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fortheloveofwonderland · 11 months

Note

🎵 But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like you’ve been here before? - Pompeii by Bastille

Hi can i request and spencer reader for scarlets concert please

# milestone celebrations

Hello lovely Anon! Kind of a rewrite of 15.04 Saturday I guess. Artistic liberties were taken in that the Jeid confession never happened (like we all wish it hadn’t). Also the way Spencer talks about Pompeii is actually how the lead singer of Bastille described the meaning of the song in an interview.

I am still taking song lyric requests for my milestone celebration 🎵

Pompeii

Gif does not depict the appearance of the reader.

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - Spencer Reid is stuck in a rut, bored by his mundane life. But one conversation with a stranger prompts his whole life to change. And he knows he’ll never be bored again.

CW - slightly miserable Spencer, therapists, a lot of talk of Mount Vesuvius eruption and death, Spencer and his uncomfortable info dumps, self depreciating Spencer, one swear, mostly silliness and cute dog interactions.

WC - 4.3k

Spencer Reid was, for a lack of a better word, bored. Unfortunately for him, given his incredibly high IQ and his brain's need for constant stimulation, it was easy for him to feel this way.

For a long time now he’d felt like he was living a Groundhog Day. His life became a series of tedious events that seemed to recur over and over again in the exact same way.

His days started with coffee and the newspaper, whether he was at home or away on a case. He showered, towel dried his errant hair and dressed in some version of the same outfit everyday.

Then he went to work, taking the metro at the same time everyday he was in DC or jumping into one of the SUV’s, always in the back seat, if they were away.

The cases always seemed much the same as each other these days. People were being murdered, it was their jobs to stop the unsub.

Time and time again Spencer found himself in front of a map working the geographic profile or he was utilised if there was a lot of literature as he was the only one who could get through it fast enough.

He spoke to Garica over the phone, sometimes watched interrogations through the two-way glass, rarely conducted them. And when they had a suspect, he got on his Kevlar and piled into the SUV with the rest of the team.

Whether they stopped the unsub before it was too late or not meant very little to him these days.

And then he’d crawl into bed, sometimes his own, sometimes a random hotel bed in whatever town the team found themselves in. It didn’t much matter, they were all equally as lonely.

And Spencer was just bored of it all.

When he closed his eyes, it almost felt as if nothing had changed at all; like he’d been here before. The monotony of his days was getting him down. His impressive brain wasn’t being used to its full capacity and he felt it withering away inside of his skull.

He didn’t feel challenged in any aspect of his life. His job had grown stale and maybe if he had something else to keep his mind occupied it might be ok. But climbing into an empty bed was by far the most soul destroying part of this perpetual deja vu loop he’d ended up in.

How was he supposed to be optimistic when life kept giving him reasons not to be?

Along with the boredom, Spencer started spiralling into a vicious pit of misery. It’s not that he was necessarily depressed, but he certainly wasn’t happy.

He became snappy with the people he called his friends. He was easily irritable, quick to anger. Everyone had noticed. It didn't take a profiler to see Spencer wasn’t himself.

But much like they always did, they buried their heads in the sand, busy enough with their own lives so they didn’t have time to worry about the youngest member of their team. It was a pattern he’d grown used to, another mundane facet of Spencer’s life. They cared, he knew that, but maybe they didn’t care enough.

His days off were always the same too.

He spent the mornings with coffee and a newspaper, showered and dressed before leaving his apartment. The home he’d once loved, his fortress of solitude, had grown so impossibly lonely that he couldn’t bear to spend more time there than he had to.

Those four walls in which he’d lived for close to two decades now seemed hell bent on provoking him, reminding him how isolated he’d become.

So he went out, to coffee shops, bookstores and museums; always in that order. He hated the rut he’d found himself in but he couldn’t for the life of him snap himself out of it. As much as he hated it, repetition was something he was good at.

But something had to change. He had to find a way to banish the grey clouds that rolled over the hills, shrouding him in a constant darkness.

And that was how Spencer Reid ended up on his day office in a therapist's office.

His first three sessions went exactly the same, a constant theme in his life. His therapist would ask him what brought him here and what he hoped to achieve; in response Spencer would pretty much clam up instantly.

In their fourth session, things played out a little differently.

Doctor Santiago didn’t have her notebook on her lap when he entered her office like she had the other three times. Her hands were laced in her lap, her glasses pushed up on top of her head. Her expression was less amicable than usual.

“Spencer,” she spoke before he’d even gotten comfortable. “I don’t mean to sound callous, but is it really worth wasting your money and what precious free time you have, coming here when you aren’t going to talk about why you’re here?”

He looked at his shoes, one of which was tapping against the carpet, then he looked at his hands. He didn’t look back at Doctor Santiago when he spoke.

“I’ve been reading a lot about Mount Versuvius and Pompeii.” He drummed his fingers against his thigh in time with his foots rhythmic tapping,

“Ok…” Doctor Santiago frowned a little but hoped if she didn’t say too much so he would continue.

“All those people who were just going about their days, lost in their own vices and then boom, it’s all over just like that. Posed forever in time as the dust settles around them. Do you know that approximately sixteen thousand people died in Pompeii?” He glanced up at her, his own expression contorted in confusion.

“I didn’t know that.” The Doctor shook her head. “So you’ve been thinking about death?”

“No.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “Although I suppose that would be the more obvious trail of thought. But once you get to know me you’ll realise my trails of thought are anything but obvious.”

“I’m not sure I understand where you’re going with this then.”

Spencer huffed out a breath, frustrated even though he was used to people never understanding him.

“I’ve been thinking about stasis.” He mused and he watched as his therapist's brow furrowed. “Just imagine it, how boring must it have been, emotionally speaking, in the aftermath? Just stuck in the same position for hundreds and hundreds of years.”

Doctor Santiago’s brow was furrowed so deeply her eyebrows were practically in her eye sockets.

“But they were dead.” She stated the obvious.

“Logically I know that. But for some reason I just can’t help thinking about it. I keep having imaginary conversations in my head as if I were one of those people. Stuck in some kind of like, tragic death pose and having a conversation with the other people also resided to the same fate.” He frowned himself now as he spoke it out loud.

It sounded even more ridiculous hearing himself say it. Was he really so bored that these were the kind of thoughts he spent his time nurturing?

The doctor leant forward with her knees on her elbows, it was her job to quickly make assumptions about the things her patients told her and to read between the lines.

“You feel like one of those people. Stuck in time while the rest of the world continues to move around you.” She stated it is a fact, didn’t ask.

Spencer winced a little at her summation but nodded nonetheless.

“People always see my IQ as a blessing, but actually a lot of the time it’s more like a curse. Boredom is so much easier for me to fall into, if my brain’s not being stimulated enough.” He ran his fingers over the crease in his slacks, hoping it would work to distract him from talking about himself.

“And you feel like you aren’t getting enough stimulation?” She narrowed her eyes on him.

“Not anymore. Not for a long time.” He agreed. “I love my job but it’s just not challenging me anymore. I feel like…let’s say the BAU is a city, like Pompeii. I used to love that city, but now it just feels like all the walls are tumbling down and I’ve been left covered in rubble, left in this monotonous death pose for all of eternity.”

God that sounds morbid and very over dramatic, what is wrong with me?

“You’re stuck in a rut.” Doctor Santiago didn’t seem perturbed, she’d probably heard a lot worse.

“Undoubtedly.” He agreed.

“You’re going to do something for me today.” She sat back in her chair, a smile toying at her lips which Spencer wasn’t sure he liked. “You’re going to go somewhere you wouldn’t ordinarily go, not a bookstore, not a museum. Somewhere new for Spencer Reid.”

“That’s all?” He frowned sceptically.

“No,” Santiago chuckled with a shake of her head. “I want you to have one conversation with someone you don’t know. Don’t talk about work, or your routine. Definitely don’t talk about Pompeii or death poses.”

“See, here’s the thing with that,” Spencer swallowed. “In case it wasn’t clear, I am exceptionally socially awkward. I can’t just talk to a stranger. How about I come up with some conversation topics and next week we can discuss them and then-”

“Spencer,” she cut him off. “Today. It’s time to break you out of your rut, ok?”

Goddamnit, why did I ever come here?

***

The park was just about the least Spencer Reid place to hang out that there was, aside from maybe the beach, and he felt inherently uncomfortable.

He was a middle aged man in a suit jacket and shirt, wandering a park on a Saturday afternoon, alone. He actually found himself willing his cell phone to ring and being called into work rather than go through with this.

One conversation with someone he didn’t know. It was at its core a simple enough task. At least it would be for most people, people unlike Spencer who didn’t feel paralysed at the thought of talking to strangers.

It was different at work, where part of his job was to talk to people all the time. He had some sort of authority in those situations, his presence was helping catch a killer. In the park he was out in the wild, thrown to the wolves. He was so far out of his comfort zone it made him feel nauseous.

But for the first time in months, he wasn’t bored. And maybe Doctor Santiago had been onto something.

He scanned the area as he meandered down the tree lined path that cut through the park, in search of someone who looked normal enough for him to strike up a conversation with. Most people weren’t alone, with their families, partners or kids or both. The only other people he noticed on their own didn’t look what Spencer would deem as normal.

He spent almost an hour wandering with the bright DC sunshine beaming down on him. Eventually he started to feel sweat gathering at the base of his neck and at his temples and ambled to the nearest bench.

He shucked off his jacket and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. Feeling dejected and slightly fed up, he pulled his book on Mount Vesuvius out of his satchel and started reading it for approximately the seventy-sixth time.

When Spencer was reading, his brain blocked off everything else that wasn’t directly on the pages in front of him. He couldn’t hear the sound of people chatting and laughing in the park, he could no longer feel the heat from the sun. He was lost somewhere in Pompeii.

It was because of this that he didn’t notice the large, fluffy mutt running directly at him, or hear its owner calling for him to stop. It wasn’t until he felt something heavy pressing against his knees and his book being snuffled out of the way by a wet nose, that he looked up from the pages.

The dog with its piercing blue eyes and a soft, fuzzy face stared at him, paws on either of Spencer’s knees and its tongue hanging dopily out its mouth. Spencer stared at the mutt for a moment or two, somewhat perplexed, before it dribbled on Spencer’s slacks and Spencer groaned in frustration.

“Gross,” He grumbled, giving the dog a soft push. “Get down.”

The dog dropped back to the grass, but continued staring at Spencer while he found a handkerchief in his satchel and wiped his pants.

“Beau! Beau, what are you doing?” A panted voice caused Spencer’s eyes to snap away from the dog and up to a woman running his way.

Spencer felt his chest tighten as he watched the grace with which you chased after the errant dog.

“I’m so sorry.” You fought to catch your breath as you stopped in front of him and the dog. “He’s so much faster than me.”

“He dribbles.” Spencer tucked the soiled handkerchief away.

“Yeah, dogs will do that.” You laughed, clipping the leash to the husky’s collar.

“I could have been allergic.” Spencer stood up from the bench.

“Allergic to dogs?” You cocked a curious eyebrow at him.

“Dog saliva. A study showed that dog saliva contains at least twelve different types of allergy-causing protein bands.” He told you, stuffing his hands in pockets.

“Right, odd thing to say to someone you just met, but sure.” You shook your head.

“It was reported that a seventy year old woman had a severe infection of bacterium called capnocytophaga canimorsus, which likely came from her Italian Greyhound’s saliva.” He continued despite himself.

“When was the last time you talked to an actual human being?” You pulled a face, patting Beau’s fuzzy head and causing him to mewl happily.

“I talk to human being’s all the time.” He frowned, not understanding the question.

“About dog saliva?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Never about dog saliva actually.”

“Maybe don’t make a habit of it, it's kinda weird.” Your lip started to slowly curl up into a small smile.

“Duly noted.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Does, uh…would you say this counted as a conversation?”

Your brows knitted together, almost immediately wiping the smile from your face.

“What would you class as a conversation?”

“An informal talk between two or more people, in which thoughts, feelings and ideas are expressed.” He quoted the dictionary definition of the term.

“Well, this seemed pretty informal. I shared my thoughts about you coming across as weird, as you shared your ideas about my dog’s saliva and my feelings towards it are discomfort. Seems like a conversation.”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.” He sighed to himself. “My therapist wanted me to have one conversation with one person I don’t know today and I guess I achieved that so please, don’t feel like you need to stand here and humour me any longer.”

“I’m your homework?” The smile spread back to your lips.

“I mean, that makes it sound clinical.”

“This was kinda clinical.” You chuckled and Spencer’s heart felt lighter than air at that sound. “Why don’t we try again. Hi, I’m Y/N and this is my dog Beau.”

Beau barked happily at the sound of his name, his giant front paws tapping on the grass in excitement.

“Spencer.” He nodded with a tight lipped smile. “I’m sorry if I offended you or your dog.”

“Luckily for you, neither of us are very easily offended.” You smirked, sidling past him and sitting down on the bench.

Spencer faced you with a soft frown.

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting, isn’t that obvious?” You crossed one leg over the other and unclipped Beau’s leash again. “Off you go boy.”

Beau did as he was told and joyfully bounded away, but made sure to stay in your field of vision. Spencer looked between you and the husky as he started exploring trees with the use of his nose.

“You aren’t worried he won’t come back?”

“He’s very well trained. And besides, I have his favourite treats.” You patted your pocket.

“Fair enough.” Spencer nodded and reached down for his things. “Well it was nice to meet you I guess. Have a good day.”

“Where are you going?” You stopped him before he could walk away.

“I, uh, was going to leave you to it?” He cradled the book and his satchel under one arm.

“You said you needed to have a conversation, so I sat down so we could have one.” You chuckled again and it was quickly becoming Spencer’s favourite sound.

“Oh. Oh. Really? You want to have a conversation with me? After I talked about the bacteria in dog saliva?”

“Yeah, I don’t really understand it either. But you seem…” You trailed off, unable to find the right word.

“Lonely? Creepy? Pathetic?” He tried, again causing you to laugh.

“Oddly endearing.” You corrected him.

It wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever been called, and he’d take what he could get. He slid back down to the bench, ensuring to keep a comfortable amount of space between you and placed his bag and book in his lap.

“Uh, just as a forewarning, I am not very good at small talk.” Spencer raked one hand through his hair.

“Oh don’t worry, I already gathered that.” You glanced away from him towards Beau briefly before looking back at him. “So, can I ask why your therapist is making you have conversations with strangers?”

“I’m stuck in a rut, I suppose.” He confessed, finding it strange how easy it was to want to open up to you. “My job, my personal life; it’s the same thing day in and day out. I’m just a little bored of it all.”

“What do you do?”

“If it’s ok with you, I’d rather not talk about it. I’m trying not to focus all of my energy, all of my personality into what I do for a living.” He rolled his lip between his teeth.

“Ok.” You shrugged. “What are you reading?”

Spencer looked down at the hardback in his lap and turned it over to display the cover. He ran his fingers over it remembering Doctor Santiago’s specific instructions.

Definitely don’t talk about Pompeii or death poses.

“It’s about Pompeii and the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.” He blurted out.

“Oh, just some light and cheery reading then.” You laughed and if you kept doing that Spencer may very well fall in love with you.

“It’s…meditative in a way.” He shrugged. “I was told

I shouldn’t talk about it.”

“Your therapist told you topics of conversation?” You raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“More like she told me topics of conversations to avoid. Specifically, my thoughts on the boredom that must have been felt by these people trapped in these perpetual death poses after the eruption.” He mentally scalded himself as the words tumbled out his mouth. “Yet here I am, talking about it anyway.”

You glared at him, noting your dog nearby out of the corner of your eye, but focusing on Spencer. He drummed his fingers awkwardly on the book cover.

“Wow,” you inhaled sharply. “That’s gotta be one of the most depressing things I’ve ever heard.”

“Probably why I was advised not to talk about it.” He sighed.

“You’re a pretty dark dude.”

“In my line of work it’s hard not to be.” He shrugged, he’d already gone against one thing Santiago told him not to do, he may as well go for broke. “I’m an FBI Agent. A profiler. I use psychology to track down serial killers.”

Your expression didn’t change much, something which surprised him. You quickly glanced over at Beau again who was now making friends with a much smaller dog, before looking back at him.

“That’s the same thing day in and day out?” You frowned.

“Not physically but mentally I guess. I, uh, I’m pretty smart…no that’s not true, I’m a certified genius. And that means I can grow bored easily. I guess I need a higher level of stimulation than most people.” He shrugged, noticing the way your eyes started to sparkle.

“A higher level of stimulation, huh?” The smirk adorned on your lips and the way you spoke the word stimulation made his ears turn suddenly red.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his mouth dry and he had to look away from you. “Mental stimulation. Jesus Christ.”

You smiled to yourself at his obvious embarrassment, enjoying the way you’d made him blush. You decided to change the subject, as much as you enjoyed it, you didn’t want to make him too uncomfortable.

“So, a certified genius?”

His eyes snapped back to you and he swallowed with a nod of his head.

“Yeah.”

“Well I can’t be very stimulating for you then? Mentally speaking of course.” You couldn’t help yourself.

As predicted his blush spread to his cheeks and neck and he fidgeted with his bag on his lap. What you didn’t know was that he was trying to conceal the fact your words were causing a bulge in his pants he desperately wanted to hide.

“Are you trying to fluster me?”

“Is it working?” Your eyes sparkled again.

“Very much so.” He confessed. “For the record I find you utterly stimulating. Mentally speaking of course.”

“Good to know.” You nodded, looking back across the park and spotting Beau staring at you. “Beau, heel!”

The large and playful dog immediately started in your direction, bounding delightedly towards his owner. When he reached you, he slumped down on the grass by your feet and you popped a treat in his waiting mouth.

“So usually after our walk I take Beau to a little cafe where they sell doggy cupcakes and I grab a coffee, unwind.” You pushed yourself to your feet and clipped Beau’s leash in place once again.

“Oh, ok.” Spencer nodded, tucking his book inside his bag. “Have a nice time.”

You narrowed your eyes on him, trying to ascertain if he was really this clueless or if it was just an act. You were quick to realise it was the former.

“It was an invitation, dummy.” You chuckled. “Do you want to come with me? I love my dog but he’s not exactly…stimulating.”

Spencer had to take a moment to compose himself before he stood as his legs trembled a little. He inhaled sharply and pushed himself up.

“You want me to join you?” As asked by way of clarification.

“Correct.”

“Even after I talked about Pompeii and death poses?”

“Even after that.” You nodded with a smile.

“You don’t have to invite me. I was only strictly required to have one conversation so I think you’re off the hook now.” He slung his satchel over his shoulder before stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Are you really so naive that you don’t understand when a girl is asking you out?”

“You are?” His eyes widened dramatically.

“Yes!” You laughed. “Surely you’ve been asked out before?”

“No, never. I mean, I didn’t know you were asking me out so maybe I have and I didn’t realise it.”

“You are utterly precious, Spencer.” You shook your head. “Come on, let’s go. Unless you want to go back to your rut?”

“No, no. I am happy to be rut-less.” He nodded and the two of you, plus Beau, fell in step with one another.

He let you lead him through the park, stealing glances at you as he did so. He’d never felt more outside of his comfort zone before and it was exhilarating.

So many of his days had fallen away with nothing to show for them. Days upon days of the same, tedious tasks again and again. Nothing had changed for so long, every had felt the same, every time he closed his eyes.

But finally things had changed. Letting you into his life would bring with it a shake up of his previously monotonous routine.

He didn’t know it at the time, but his future would hold walks in the park whilst learning to enjoy the company of a dog. Random two am phone calls when you couldn’t sleep. Waking up next to your sleeping form, deep, meaningful debates in the middle of the night which would end up with lips silencing the other and body parts entwining.

He had to look forward to your surprise visits to his office with baked goods and coffee. Sending flower arrangements to your work just to say he was thinking of you. Unplanned weekend trips to New York or Baltimore or wherever the two of you ended up. Spur of the moment date nights and spontaneous adventures, just you, him and Beau.

But all of that was yet to come, the great unknown unfurling before him. All because he had one conversation with one person, and finally Spencer’s predictable life didn’t seem so predictable anymore.

Much like the citizens of Pompeii, who had to grow and adapt to their new city in the wake of the eruption that had destroyed so much, now it was his turn to embrace the new and uncharted.

And quite honestly, he’d never been more excited.

You glanced at him as you walked, a soft smile on your features and you boldly reached out and took hold of his hand in your free one.

Spencer felt his chest explode at your touch and he already knew he never wanted to let you go.

“So, tell me,” you asked as you strolled hand in hand. “Are you still bored, Spencer?”

He couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips and he gave your hand a soft squeeze.

“I can honestly say, I’ve never been less bored in my entire life.” He sighed in content, slightly disbelieving how much his world could change just from a simple conversation.

Today was one kind of Groundhog Day he would happily repeat over and over for the rest of his life.

#milestone celebration #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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red-dead-do-over246 · 1 year

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Hi~🌻 Can I request a Javier x Reader story? Got an overflow of ideas right now. 😆😁

Cold sweat on the forehead, goosebumps on the back of the neck. Hand pulls out the revolver and shoots the revolver out of Dutch's hand. Before he could shoot Molly. It's in my head that Reader, like everyone else, hung on Dutch's lips. but chapter by chapter their eyes opened. And Reader, too, sees the spectacle that Dutch is trying to keep up. Reader is then shown in seconds which side Javier is on. Just think, you start a friendship with Javier and maybe there are also feelings but then in the last chapters until the end you notice how he slips away. I'm really curious what you do with the idea. You can make what you want out of it. 😚💖 Thank you ~

No problem! Hope it's a good one!😂💖

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

The Coming War

You weren't blind to Dutch's motives anymore. The question is: will anyone else be brave enough to stand by your side?

Your eyes were opened that day.

When Molly came back drunk, ranting and raving about exposing the gang to the Pinkertons (which would later be proven false), you were shocked. Things were tense right now, sure, but to go as far as murdering one of your own was a motive that you never thought you would see Dutch use.

He was going to shoot Molly.

It was like time slowed for you as the man you once trusted blindly was ready to kill someone he said he loved. You eyed his movements, sweat dripping down the back of your neck as goosebumps moved up your eyes, causing the hair to raise in fear. A decision would have to be made and fast. Your reflexes moved faster than you could think based on some innate reaction to save the life of another person. You pulled out your revolver and with a loud bang, you shot the gun out of Dutch's hand.

Arthur looked relieved, but Dutch looked furious. You returned the glare just as coldly, feeling uneasiness creep up your spine like a coming cold. This wasn't the man you knew, not anymore. But Dutch said nothing, just gripping his hand where his gun once was.

Bang!

But your good deed meant nothing. Grimshaw shot Molly anyway. She knew the rules.

After the whole depressing scene was over, everyone went back to their depressing ways. You were sitting on the edge of camp, contemplating your entire life from up until this point. You and everyone else trusted Dutch blindly, his words being pure hope and poetry for the whole gang.

But then Hosea died, many more people died. I guess the real Dutch was coming out.

"Nice shootin' back there Y/N." Javier's unmistakable voice sounded, and you turned to see him sitting next to you. However, he looked a bit unfazed. Not like you, who was rather shaken up.

"That's all you have to say? Molly just died." You couldn't help the anger in your voice. You always did feel pity for the woman who was clearly played by Dutch, just like you were starting to feel like.

But Javier looked taken aback.

"Sorry. But she knew the rules...I don't know what else to say." The man tried to defend himself, and you mumbled out an apology. Truth be, just as you were starting to wonder who Dutch was, you were also starting to wonder about Javier.

You've known him since you've joined the gang, and yeah, you guys were friends. Back then, it kind of was all fun and games until...well...until you started to develop feelings for him. Javier was too charming for you to ignore, but again, back then things were easier. Now, sides were having to be picked.

And you didn't know which side he wanted to be on. You saw him talking to Micah earlier...and it didn't make you feel good.

"I just...I need some time to myself." You said, rubbing your legs a bit in a nervous manner. Normally, you would feel a happy fuzzy feeling when Javier was around you.

But now you just felt disappointed.

Obviously, this wasn't the same man you fell in love with because he didn't even sound understanding. He just mumbled something in Spanish before getting up and leaving you, making your heart break more.

Perhaps he never really cared. Or maybe he just changed too much. A few days later was even worse.

A train robbery went way wrong, and Dutch proved once and for all that he wasn't the leader you all thought. He left John to die, as stated by the man himself when he returned. Not only that, but Arthur revealed that Micah was the snake all along. This was it. This was the time.

Sides needed to be picked.

You, Arthur, and John were on one side, you now clearly understanding how you were feeling. Micah, his associates, and Dutch were on the other. However, stragglers like Bill began to move towards their side.

Javier among them.

Everyone was pointing their guns at one another, but you couldn't bring yourself to point your revolver at him. You raised your gun in the air, unsure, and you noticed he was doing the same. Perhaps he was aloof this whole time, trying to act like things were normal during periods of high tension.

But he was still beside Micah and Dutch...so he picked a side.

Your eyes locked, and there was nothing but remorse. You should've said something about how you felt instead of putting it off, believing there would be a better time. But it was too late now. Things were too torn to ever be repaired.

But that didn't stop you from mumbling the words, them rolling off your tongue with only your ears to hear. Your heart wanted you to scream and shout, make them listen and to be a family again.

However, there was no coming back from this. It was only going to end bloody.

The men you knew were gone, and the gang had finally broken.

Your story afterwards is up to you.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #rdr2 javier #javier x reader #javier imagine

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hollybell51 · 2 years

Text

I promise

Masterpost

Corinthian x gn!Reader

The Sandman (2022 Netflix series)

Word count: 4814

Summary: having been alone in the Waking World since your departure from the Dreaming, you’re glad to see a familiar and sorely missed face. So is the Corinthian.

Content: no use of (Y/N), use of pet names (“sweetheart”), canon-typical horror elements and referenced violence, referenced murder/gore/violence (it’s the Corinthian guys), drinking (as in drinking a grand total of two alcoholic drinks each), reader is a nightmare, weirdly deep ruminations on the nature of love, pseudo-love confessions (you’ll see). Smut (because I feel like this needs its own category of tags): smut with feelings, oral sex, making out, hickeys, slight possessiveness, slightly pervy Corinthian I guess (???), slightly dom-y reader, slightly dom-y Corinthian, they kinda swap around, maybe I should have just said “switch”, but I mean slightly when I say slightly so I don’t really even think it’s worth labelling, penetrative sex

Notes: I am so attracted to this man it’s actually kind of depressing. Thank you Neil Gaiman and Boyd Holbrook. Also I was quite torn writing this because obviously he's a gay man in the comics which is a huge part of him and very deliberate decision (I really recommend checking out this post) but also the pansexual element of the show, so I've done this as a gender neutral reader so I guess you can take it where you want... anyways, enjoy!

Also I literally could not decide which of the many gorgeous GIFs of this man to put because holy shit he is just so hot in literally everything he does but I like his little "hmf" kinda smile near the end in this one so it's what you get <3

Your phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a notification from the news network.

“Anything good?” the bartender queried as you idly opened it, skimming the headline. You smiled. The Corinthian strikes again, police warn local citizens to exercise caution.

“Must be something,” he continued, seeing your smile.

“No,” you replied.

“So what’s got you smiling?”

“Nothing, really.”

The bartender shrugged, deftly wiping a glass and sliding it into place behind him. You idly spun the plain band of metal that circled your little finger – your promise finger – as you continued scanning the article, looking for anything that might be a clue to you. Apparently the body wasn’t found too far from where you were now, but that wasn’t helpful. He could move fast, and he did. The whole thing was riddled with the usual useless vagaries, police stating that they were working hard and that everyone should just be careful when going out at night. Everything they always said, none of it any more helpful than any other time.

It had been too long since you’d last seen the Corinthian, somewhere around half a century. You’d stopped keeping track of the years when it got to thirty. You hadn’t realised at the time that you wouldn’t be seeing him again, you’d laughed off his talk of the two of you leaving the Dreaming for the Waking World as nothing more than that; talk of grand plans as you lay wrapped in each other's arms, bodies pleasantly exhausted from the night’s activities. He’d held you close, kissed you very gently, then said nothing more on the matter. It wasn’t until you went to look for him later that it sunk in. He’d been serious, and he’d left.

Then, of course, there had been the whole debacle with the ruler of your home simply vanishing one day. You’d thought of the Corinthian, wondered what he was doing. You’d tried to look for him in people’s dreams, but you were a small nightmare and didn’t possess the power he did. And with Lord Morpheus gone, the Dreaming had begun to crumble as people succumbed to what the humans were calling “the sleepy sickness”.

There came a time around the twenty year mark of your king’s absence that you’d caved as many dreams had and slipped quietly into the realm of humanity, sliding through them like a snake through long grass. They fascinated you, and after a while you’d started to see the appeal of living among them. You didn’t exactly see their best side – you were a nightmare, after all, and like attracts like – but nonetheless you gulped every drop of their lives you could get.

You’d become aware of the Corinthian’s little hobby purely by chance, the random drop of a hat – or newspaper, since it was a dirty and battered tabloid blowing across the street in front of you just around a decade ago that had set the ball rolling. His name stood out to you like it was glowing, the description of the crime tactfully vague yet somehow more horrifying because of it cementing in your mind that it was him, that it was your Corinthian. You’d followed it like a hound follows a deer ever since, scouring every discussion, every article, every word printed on it with a comb so fine it was surprising anything at all could even get through. Yet something must have, because here you were, still searching.

“Can I get you something?” the bartender was asking someone, not you. You could feel them slide into the seat beside you, despite the bar being almost empty. Whatever, you wouldn’t be here much longer anyway.

“Whiskey, on the rocks.”

You froze. What were the chances, now, after all this time? You’d always imagined you would be the one to find him, had played out the scenario in your head to no end. You’d find a clue, follow it, everything would fall into place and there he’d be, sitting in a dark corner of a bar or pub, watching people around him through those dark glasses he always wore. You’d slip into the seat beside him just as he was now doing to you. He’d be shocked to see you, he’d give some wonderful explanation as to why he hadn’t come looking for you, then he’d laugh that beautiful laugh of his and shoot you that special admiring grin he reserved just for you. Maybe you’d be coy, maybe you’d give in and slip right back into his arms as if he’d never left.

“Reading something interesting, sweetheart?”

A smile tugged persistently at the corners of your mouth, your stomach flipping at the familiar accent, the beloved pet name. No, it looked like coy was off the table. “Something that reminds me of someone who’s been gone way too long.”

“Cut ‘em some slack,” the Corinthian said, humming appreciatively at the whiskey, “they’ve been busy.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed, finally looking up, “they certainly have.”

He looked the same as the last time you’d seen him, exactly as you’d imagined he would. Dark glasses obscuring his eyes, pale coat, neat swathe of blonde hair cast in gold by the yellow lighting of the bar. And he was smiling at you as he took another sip of his drink, a wide grin that made your heart soar. Shit, you’d missed him more than you’d realised.

“Do you–” you started, just he said “what do you say–”

“Sorry.” You stopped, gesturing for him to continue.

“Should we get out of here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

He nodded, downing the last of his drink and paying the bartender. He glanced from the money to you, then back to the Corinthian. As the realisation dawned, you quickly started to tell him that he didn’t have to pay for you, that you could buy your own long since empty drink, fumbling in your pockets for the money you knew was there but seemed to be eluding you almost deliberately.

“My treat, sweetheart,” the nightmare said, watching you idly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You don’t have to–”

He held up a hand, stopping you mid sentence. “Consider it an apology. For being gone way too long.”

You sighed, giving in. “Alright.”

He nodded, pleased with himself, and offered you his arm. Casting a hasty farewell to the bartender – smiling at what must have looked like a dream couple – you slipped your hand into the crook of the Corinthian’s elbow and allowed him to lead you out onto the dark street. He may have been a nightmare, but nobody could say he wasn’t a gentleman.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“I’m taking you home with me.” Then, at your laugh; “something funny about that?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “The real human experience, huh? Picking someone up from a bar and taking them home.”

“Not just anyone,” he corrected. “Someone real special and real pretty.”

“You do this a lot?” You tried to keep the question light, but something of your thoughts must have come through in your voice.

“Jealous?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shrugged, fighting the heat you could feel creeping up your neck. “No, just curious.”

“Well let me tell you this,” he said softly, bending down close enough that his whiskey scented breath brushed your cheek, “no one can even come close to you.”

“And no one can come close to you,” you replied, ignoring the bolt of warmth the words sent through you. Yep, you’d missed him way more than you realised.

“Do you do this a lot?” he asked, his ever present grin dancing around his mouth.

You shrugged, your hand drifting to his own, much larger one. “The novelty tends to wear off a bit.”

“Oh,” he laughed, “that sounded like a yes to me.”

“Has all your time in the noise of the Waking World clogged up your ears, Corinthian?”

“Maybe, but it’s cleared my head.” The mirth had fled from his features, his brows drawing together seriously. “I didn’t realise how much I’d miss you when I left.”

“Why didn’t you come and find me?”

“I tried. For about the first twenty years or so. I even went back to the Dreaming, but I guess you left before I got there.”

You sighed, bringing your hand up to pull his arm across your shoulders. “I didn’t realise you were serious when you asked me to leave with you. If I knew, I would have come with you.”

“You’re here now,” he shrugged. His fingers stroked yours, hesitating momentarily as he felt the cold metal on your littlest one.

“Yeah. You were right,” you added. “It’s nice to have more than just people’s minds to explore. I like seeing the real things that dreams only echo.”

He hummed in agreement, drawing you closer to his side. He smelled the same as he had when he’d left, dark and woody and if you had to describe it in a word, like something expensive. He smelled like home. If you were uncreated right then and there, you thought, you’d go happily.

“This is me,” he said after a few blocks traversed in comfortable silence. The building wasn’t new, but it wasn’t old either. It wasn’t exactly large, but it wasn’t small. It was just an apartment building in the city, nothing about it really stood out. Except that the Corinthian was opening the door and holding it for you, inviting you inside. And you were going inside, following him into the elevator as you imagined countless humans had done before you. The thought might have disturbed you if it had been anyone but him, but you trusted the nightmare with your very soul and knew that he trusted you in the same way. He would never hurt you, and you would never hurt him.

The elevator dinged, you followed him down the corridor. He opened the door, you followed him inside. He took your coat, the strange intimacy of the gesture sending shivers down your spine as you watched him hang it beside his own, letting your eyes linger on the perfect way his muscles moved under his skin, the smoothness and preciseness of each movement. Even if you didn’t know it was true, you’d have believed anyone who told you he was hand sculpted by a God. More than a God, in fact; an Endless.

“Take a seat. Can I get you another drink?” he asked as he moved to the kitchen, his fingers trailing lightly over the bench top.

“Sure,” you said, settling yourself on a stool. “Surprise me.”

He shot you another grin, deftly pouring a glass of wine as red as blood and sliding it across to you. You didn’t catch the label, but something about it made you think it was probably the fancy kind. The Corinthian loved fancy things, and he loved giving them to you. You remembered the Dreaming, how no matter where you went you were sure to find beautiful little gifts left for you in his wake. What you wouldn’t give to relive that time, when it had been you and him and nothing between you but space, which could easily be crossed.

He came around to your side of the bench, leaning against it with his own glass in hand. He watched you take a sip, satisfaction tugging at the corner of his mouth as you made a faint sound of pleasure. Yeah, you’d been right, this was the good stuff. He’d always liked seeing you receive things he gave you, another thing that didn’t seem to have changed.

“So,” he said after a few minutes’ silence in which you drank sip for sip, savouring the richly layered flavours and aromas.

“So,” you echoed. He was close enough that you could see every detail of him, and every detail of yourself reflected in those dark glasses, like two pools of black on his face. Even if you couldn't see his eyes – or mouths, you supposed – you could feel the intensity of his gaze, sending shivers down you spine. Then he leaned down, brushing your lips with his so lightly and quickly that you weren’t even sure he’d actually done it. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, blood rushing in your ears as he drew closer still, and this time you were sure. He kissed you with all the warmth and care that he always had, his lips silken as they’d always been against yours. The soft “clink” of his glass being set gently on the table barely registered with you as his hands slid up your thighs, over your hips, around your waist.

You pulled away softly, taking a moment to catch your breath and place your own drink far enough back on the counter that you weren’t at risk of knocking it over. The Corinthian watched you, a faint furrow marring his brow.

“Come here,” you said softly, holding out your hands to him. He pushed himself off the bench, standing directly before you in all his towering glory. You’d almost forgotten just how tall he was, but you were starkly reminded now. He let you place your hands on his face, sighing at the contact as you smiled. Just as he pressed his cheek into your palm, your fingers skirted deftly to his glasses. You hesitated, then at his near imperceptible nod, drew them away. You folded them neatly, slowly, setting them on the bench beside the two half drunk wine glasses. Then you turned back to him, smiling.

His face had been the second you ever saw, and as such, it would never be anything other than beautiful in your mind. He’d been there when Morpheus had breathed life into you, he’d been there in the beginning when you were learning how to live and he would be there at the end when you were finished, you were sure of it. Truth be told, you’d never really understood why he kept his glasses on even when it was just the two of you. When pressured, he simply shrugged and said “habit” in that nonchalant tone of his, but you saw the way he nearly cringed away from you the first time you’d removed the dark lenses. He was apprehensive even now, the idea that something in his very being could elicit such visceral reactions from humans – even you, nightmare as you were – deeply ingrained into his psyche. It wasn’t fair, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t resent Morpheus just a little. He hadn’t given either of you a choice in what you were, but at least you didn’t have to hide a part of yourself that was so significant as your eyes. They were the windows to the soul, after all.

“Beautiful,” you whispered, stretching up to place a kiss on each of his little mouths, then returning once more to his real mouth. He was smiling too, you could feel it. The whole thing was slow and warm and soft as your hands ran over his jaw, his cheeks, his neck, finally fixing in his soft hair. He was pulling you towards him, so hard you were almost entirely standing on the floor now, your butt just touching the stool you’d been sitting on.

“Come on,” he murmured between kisses, taking your hand. “I got somewhere better than the kitchen.”

You allowed him to lead you through a narrow doorway, down a short corridor and into a modest bedroom. You’d barely set foot through the door before he was on you again, hungrier and more insistent this time. You gave as good as you got, pushing him back across the carpeted floor until his knees hit the edge of the bed and he sat down with a soft “oof”, pulling you with him. You settled into place as if you’d never left, straddling his hips with your hands tangled in the front of his shirt.

You attacked his neck with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, fighting not to moan yourself at the sounds he was making. The muscles of his throat flexed and twitched under your ministrations, a growing hardness forming where your hips met his. You ground softly against him, humming at the heat it conjured.

“Shit darlin’,” he groaned as you sucked at a spot right over his jugular. “You’re so, hm, good.”

“Hm?” you drew back, observing the scattering of dark marks you’d left on his skin before reattaching your lips to his own. He was yours, all yours. You pulled his hair lightly, stifling his moan with your mouth. He knew exactly what his words were doing to you.

“Take this off,” he whispered, tugging at your shirt.

“You do it,” you replied.

He drew back, stilling your hands. “Stand up,” he told you. “Stand up and take your clothes off.”

You paused for a moment, then smiled and did as he asked. “This is new,” you said as you shed layer after layer of your garments until you were bare and they were in a pile on the floor, watching his face carefully.

He shrugged. “I like watching humans do it, figured it’d be a million times better with you.”

“And?”

“I was right,” he grinned. Many people, you knew, would have felt self conscious in your position. Hell, you’d felt it when taking off your clothes in front of humans you took to your bed a few times, despite the fact that it wasn’t supposed to be in your nature. You were a nightmare, a creature beyond them, and you had been crafted by an Endless just as the Corinthian had. But it had been there. Now, however, you felt a warm glow spread through you as his toothy gaze scanned your body, drinking it in like he was a man dying of thirst. You felt seen with him, for who you were.

You returned his grin, leaning forward to place your hands on his thighs. His fingers cupped your jaw, gently enough that you were still able to sink to your knees at the edge of the bed and begin undoing his belt buckle. You’d felt how hard he was sitting on his lap, and right now you wanted nothing more than the warm weight of his cock in your mouth.

“Can I?” you asked softly, your face inches from his crotch.

He didn’t answer, his gaze fixed on your hand. Or more specifically, the band of metal around your finger. “Still got it,” he whispered, almost in awe.

“Yeah,” you said, “of course I do.” The ring had been one of his many gifts, but it was perhaps your most treasured. He’d slipped it onto your finger back in the Dreaming as you lay against his chest, covering your hand with kisses. When you’d asked what it was he’d told you it was promise, though you’d never found out what the promise was for.

Now, he shook his head in wonder and smiled. You could’ve just sat and looked at that smile forever.

“So…?” you prompted instead, your hands still resting lightly on his crotch.

“Go ahead,” he told you. His fingers tangled gently in your hair as you took his dick in your hands, licking the tip ever so gently. “Stop teasing, sweetheart,” he said breathily.

“Magic word?” you murmured, your breath ghosting over his hot skin.

“Please,” he grunted. You smiled, licking your lips before sinking down on him, hollowing your cheeks and sucking.

“Alright?” you asked as he gasped, his fingers tightening in your hair.

The Corinthian nodded. “Don’t stop.”

You nodded too, going down on him again. You were mindful of your teeth, instead using mostly your tongue and your hands where your mouth wouldn’t fit. He was familiar, this was familiar, but you would hate to choke on him because you were too enthusiastic about sucking him off. But you needn’t have worried, it was like listening to a song from when you were younger, the Corinthian’s heavy breathing and hand in your hair guiding you in the familiar movements. You could never forget this, no matter how much time had passed.

You let a moan escape you, which in turn made his hips jolt. You hummed again, and his hold on your hair tightened.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he whispered. “You look so good.”

That really made you moan, an embarrassingly desperate sound to accompany the embarrassingly desperate way your thighs rubbed together in search of any friction. He was driving you insane, and you were completely helpless.

You didn’t stop your increasingly messy sucking and licking, completely enraptured by the little breaths and gasps your attention was conjuring from the nightmare, revelling in his hand in your hair and the occasional curses or words of praise he let slip. You probably could have stayed there forever, listening to him forever, feeling his hot weight in your mouth forever, if he hadn’t brought his hand to your face and gently eased you off him. He surveyed your face carefully, running his thumb across your reddened and swollen lips.

“Hm?” you asked, parting your lips to allow his fingers into your mouth. You sucked lightly, keeping eye contact the whole time.

“Come up here,” he told you, patting his lap.

“If I get to take your clothes off,” you replied. “It’s hardly fair that I’m here naked and you look like you just walked in.” That was a gross exaggeration, between the hickeys on his neck and his dishevelled hair he certainly did not look like he'd just walked in.

“Just walked in, huh?” he raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly at his rock hard dick shining with your spit.

“Maybe not just,” you yielded. “Either way, it’s not fair.”

“Cause you’ve always been so big on fair.” It came out as mocking, but there was softness in his face as he said it. Yes, you were big on fairness, something he knew very well. How many of your rants about what was fair had he endured? How many had he cut short with kisses, and how many more had he simply nodded along with until you were finished before producing some trinket or other that would distract you until the next slight of justice occurred?

Either way, he didn’t resist as you pulled his shirt over his head, and offered assistance when you eased his pants and underpants off his legs. Only when he was naked before you did you resume your earlier place straddling his hips. You ran your hands over his smooth, warm chest, down his arms, back up again and then down once more over the subtle planes of his stomach. His body reacted to your touch instinctively, goosebumps forming in the wake of your hands, his breath hitching in his throat.

Your insides clenched as he spat into his hand, adding to the wetness already coating his dick. He glanced at you, a silent “are you ready?”, then at your breathed “yes” and lifted hips, slid into you. It was like a missing piece had fallen into place. You’d had others in his absence, but what you’d said to him earlier had been true; they’d all paled compared to him. He fit inside you perfectly, a blissful stretch and familiar, beloved burn as your bodies adjusted to each other after too long apart.

He whispered your name like a prayer, lightly kissing your neck before settling in the hollow where it met your shoulder. “You feel too good,” he whispered. “I can’t believe I forgot how good you feel.”

“Me too,” you sighed, then rocked your hips over his. His fingers dug into your flesh as you moved, guiding you and bracing himself all at once. He continued to deliver the same wet, open-mouthed kisses to your neck and collar bone as you’d given him earlier, leaving a trail of dark marks behind. Shit, how you’d missed those. Nothing could even come close to how he did this with you. Just as he was yours, you were his. All his and nobody else’s.

You reached between the two of you, touching yourself as the Corinthian’s dick slid seamlessly in and out of you, every movement an explosion of pure bliss. His teeth grazed your skin and you pressed your lips together, frantically stifling the moan that threatened to burst from you.

“Don’t try to be quiet,” he said. “I wanna hear you.”

“Ok,” you panted, breaking off in another moan. The sound seemed to spur him to go harder, faster, the warmth of his mouth on your neck combined with his hands on your hips and his cock in you almost too much to bear.

The sensation built in your stomach, gradually more and more until you felt a single tear leak from your eye. The Cotinthian was holding you so close to him he may as well have been trying to absorb your body into his, his sweat and spit mixing where his face was pressed into your shoulder as he frantically delivered more hickeys to your skin. You would be covered in them come morning. He whispered your name, every syllable like a prayer as it fell from his lips. He twitched inside you, and you shivered involuntarily.

“Yes,” you hissed, reaching down once more to touch yourself. He spilled with a curse inside you, his head falling back and his eyes closed. Fuck, he was gorgeous, and you’d brought him undone.

Your own climax flooded through you, all your muscles tensing together at once, a shuddering, desperate cry of his name torn from your throat. You rode him through your combined pleasure, until your legs were no longer shaking and his breathing had evened out.

Yet still, neither of you moved.

The Corinthian rested his forehead against your chest, his arms circling your waist. You held him, his hair tickling your face and neck where it brushed against you. He gently kissed over the dark marks he’d left on your skin, soothing and warm, and you let your lips rest against the silk of his hair. Even with sweat beeding his skin and the whole room smelling of sex, he still smelled good, like home. You couldn't get enough.

Eventually, he pulled out of you, lifting your boneless body onto the bed beside him. You whined at the loss of contact, but he simply smiled and assured you that he was just getting you a towel, that he’d be back in a minute. He kept his word, returning and gently wiping over your skin before sliding onto the mattress beside you.

You wriggled sideways, laying your head on his chest where you could feel his heart beating under your cheek. This was the part where most humans fell asleep, but you didn’t. You were a nightmare, and nightmares didn’t sleep.

The Corinthian’s arm snaked around you, his fingers lacing with your own. This, you thought, is what love must be like. You’d given the matter a lot of thought since you’d arrived in the Waking World and had come to the conclusion that Lord Morpheus probably hadn’t made you to love. You were to scare humans, force them to confront their fears and darker selves, not to love. Maybe dreams could, but you didn’t think it was something for nightmares.

Still, you’d devoured all the resources on the subject that you could. Humans didn’t seem to know what it was either, and had very different opinions on the matter. You wanted to love the Corinthian, and some would say that in itself was the real thing. Others would say that you loved him because you’d missed him so much, others still would say that you couldn’t love him because love was what made them human and you certainly were not human. Maybe it was love, maybe it wasn’t. But anyone who saw the two of you now, twined together so tightly you were nothing more than a mess of limbs would have thought it was.

“If we can…” you started, licking your lips, unsure of yourself. “If we can love, I love you.”

He was quiet for a moment, then he drew your hand to his lips and kissed it softly, running his fingers over the ring. “And I love you. I promise.”

“I don’t want you to leave again,” you whispered.

“I won’t.” The Corinthian leaned over, flipping you onto your back and pressing your still linked hands into the mattress. “I promise,” he said, kissing you softly. “I promise I won’t ever leave you again.”

“Alright,” you replied. You kissed him, softly and sweetly, basking in the warmth of his body pressing down on you and pleasant heaviness of your own. If he ever asked you to go somewhere with him, you told yourself silently, you would. You’d never let him go again.

HOW HOT IS HE AND WHY IS HE THIS HOT it's genuinely unfair

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blackstarchanx3new · 6 months

Text

Creations AU, But I obnoxiously over explain it PT 10

Pages 271-300

Mike you're making your hatred obvious tone it down.

Also, oh.

Afton's got a blood issue??? X'D

What a trait for a serial killer...Hmmmm.

I didn't mention it before but since it's brought up here:

Afton is covered in scars. Yeah those things on his face aren't wrinkles they're scars.

Same with his hands and neck. Everywhere that's exposed to us is covered in scars. We can only imagine what's covered.

I drew him goofy here but I was also struggling to draw this scene hah.

We know William lives like, right next to Freddy's so it makes sense he'd go here to look for help lmfao.

Hah takes a depressed person to know one eh Mike?

Hah. William's sus of you uh oh.

Guess stalking people is an Afton family tradition.

William rolling his chair over to bump Mike's is smth I just find funny. And Rude.

Also that Ennard incident is brought up hah.

Mike says what I would have pointed out.

William's always watching.

HAH.

HE FOUND YOU OUT.

NOT THE THING YOU WERE WORRIED HE'D FIND OUT BUT HE FOUND YOU OUT.

Again: Takes one to know one. Afton and Mike got a lot in common in the spotting depressed suicidal people skill.

William just dumped a bunch of shit the audience didn't know.

What's more disturbing is he dug this shit up on Mike. Presumably because Mike's close with his son now.

So apparently EVERYONE knows now William assumes Mike is suicidal. That's...NICE of him to warn everyone? I guess. Wonder who "everyone" is...The robots? The workers? When were they informed? He didn't recognize Mike before the night he spent the night so presumably afterward he watched the cameras and looked into Mike's past.

Or he was doing a bit of trolling.

Also: Mike mentioned his mother. She's got dementia and attacked Mike. Makes sense why he's not living with her despite needing help with his living.

Conformation: Jeremy was Mike's husband, so he's living with Jeremy's sister.

Wonder what William feels knowing one of his murder victim's family members is here... We don't get much insight into that for now.

This little convo only furthers Mike's rage considering Afton is basically spitting right in his face by bringing up Jeremy at all.

Also William only cares because Michael is Mike's friend now.

Ouch. It isn't out of direct concern as we saw William act uncomfortable around Mike just because he had an illness.

William tries to deter Mike from dying here through, persuasion, Freddy's is a personal hell, which is a sentiment Cody also repeated funny enough.

William is very selfish lmfao.

Mike's stance is clear: He just wants to take Afton down with him.

Also. Hell of a question coming from you Afton considering you turned his husband into a ghost.

Why do you aaaaaask?

Hehehe.

Pff. Afton sure is a character alright.

Your mind tricks won't work on Mike Mr. Afton.

He's such a smug bitch about it.

But this does bring up a lot: WHY THE FUCK CAN HE DO THAT???

I'm sure this isn't important-

He really had to fuck with Mike first before showing THAT off.

Because Afton's a cheeky bastard.

Also backstory: Afton's gift made him an outcast. Hmmm...

DAMN MIKE OKAY EXCALATION MUCH???

Just a reminder he's still carrying that knife around. To kill Afton with.

And if you're wondering what EXACTLY he's waiting for: Confromation.

He's judge jury and executioner in this situation.

Mike's waiting until he's fully convinced it's Afton. As we've seen he has SOME reasons to think there's more things going on here.

CHICA! :D

Excalibur face because Soul Eater's influence has to show itself in all my work lmfao.

OH.

OH MY.

in the script Mike's expression direction was literally just this emoji:

😳

Freddy switches immediately upon seeing Mike lmfao. He's STILL salty about him slamming the door. XD

Also- HAHAHAHHAHAHHA Freddy and Bonnie are fuck buddies-

Freddy has zero patience for Mike.

The oddly specific threat of "Or I will kick you like a football" is just funny to me. Like why a football specifically Freddy??? XD

Mike pivots and decides talking to Freddy for now is a good idea.

Quick thinking from our boy.

Freddy no-

He just has to rub in that him and Bonnie are doing shit.

Apparently Freddy thinks this place is "Boring" which is amusing to think about like...He's literally the most interesting thing in this place in his narcissistic head. I love Freddy.

Yes this is a refence to Freddy hiding in the lady's restroom in FNAF 1.

Freddy is possessed by a woman. And he's AWARE of that.

He's still alright being called "Freddy" and "He/Him" so you can take that however you want.

If you want a label for what Creation's Freddy's gender identity is: The closest I can like, describe would be nonbinary/genderfluid.

I've been brainstorming the backstory for the character who possesses him...And I'm not entirely sure if she was APOSED to being a male animatronic.

Any pronouns work for Freddy is what I'm getting at.

I mostly call his ghost by She/Her but call Freddy himself He/Him. Because Freddy isn't a 1 to 1 with the person he was before he became an animatronic as are MOST of the animatronics.

But the notion ALL the animatronics are some kind of trans metaphor can get REAL MESSY considering a lot of them were...FORCED into this. So let's not go there is what I'm trying to say that was NOT the intent with them.

This metaphor would really only work for like MAYBE 2 characters in Creations and not be PROBLEMATIC to say the least..

Freddy being one of them since again: I think the woman who possesses him WANTED to be Freddy because he's the star. XD

Also there's a cannon trans character in this comic that has no metaphors attached soooo...Idk.

Gender and sex and sexual orientation are touched on a LOT in this comic cause: Holy shit when you half hazardly shove random souls together into suits gender don't always binary lmfao. Also I relate to not having a strict "Girl" or "Boy" vibe and I write what's relatable to me.

SO: If you wanna view Freddy as trans you're perfectly fine to do so. Freddy's case is WEIRD so I'm really open to whatever you want with him. If you relate to Freddy in a trans way I'm not gonna take that from you. X'D He's very gender.

Anyway going away from Freddy's gender for a second:

There's a hanging corpse in the men's bathroom. Spooky.

Freddy describes it in detail so I don't have too lmfao disturbing.

I do have a comic idea for showing how it ended up there...but I'll refuse giving spoilers for now. It'd be the "Into the pit comic" for future reference.

Freddy got traumatized from using the men's bathroom. Poor dude.

Obligatory "Mike is a freak" joke. X'D Poor Mike.

The funniest thing: Unlike Cody Freddy wasn't THERE for that convo...Meaning Bonnie has told Freddy in private he thinks Mike's a freak lmfao.

Casual shit talking your bud oof.

There's 3 bathrooms lol.

My favorite genders.

Chica, Bonnie and MANGLE-

Freddy's a wuss and it's funny.

"I don't think he can get you if he's dead..."

MIKE YOU OF ALL FUCKING PEOPLE KNOW HOW STUPID YOU SOUND RN.

Poor Freddy.

Mike can't see shit though which interesting.

Mike isn't exactly spiritually inclined it seems. Which just makes Cody's fuckery even funnier.

Page limits prevent the rest of this scene so Creations will return.

#fnaf #fnaf comic #fnaf creations au #creations au #freddy #tw horror #mike schmidt #freddy fazbear #william afton #tw blo0d #fnaf chica #chica the chicken

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sarahivess · 11 months

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WARNING: LONG RANT AND EXPLANATION

I feel like I have to stand up for myself now when I’ve seen the way some of the people in this fandom have been spreading rumors about me on Twitter.

I’m going to take this from the beginning.

In November, I was kinda new on Twitter. I remember seeing a tweet in my feed, it said “Let Robin say lesbian in season 5” and to me, who lives in Sweden, the word lesbian isn’t a very “bad” word. It’s actually a very common and normal word here, and we have a bunch of movies and tv-shows when lesbian girls and women simply say: I’m lesbian! So to me, I had NO IDEA that in the US, it’s seen as a “bad” word and that’s why the fans wanted her to verbally say it. I totally get that now, but I wasn’t aware back then. Silly me then made a comment, because a very cute and funny little moment popped up in my head and I felt like: AH I need to write this. It was something along with:

“Or gay, because imagine how cute it would be if Will came out as gay, and Robin would say “I’m gay too”, and then a stunned Dustin (or someone) would say “Okay, so while we’re at it - does anyone else want to come out of the closet?” And then Mike slowly raises his hand.”

I didn’t think much more about it, and the next time I logged into Twitter I had gotten like 50 qrts with: LOADS of death threats, gifs with people murdering people, people calling me lesbophobe, people mocking my grammar, my age, people saying weird things to me about Will etc. I was in such shock, I deleted the tweet right away and had a panic attack. What the hell just happened? How did that made me a lesbophobe? I’m bisexual myself, and I LOVE lesbians. I have also a bunch of wlw ships that I love. But all that shit just because I didn’t know that the word lesbian was very uncommon for americans to say in American media and how they wanted to change that.

Anyways, I deactivated my Twitter because all these horrible rumors about me triggered my suicidal thoughts (I suffer from depression), I made a new one and people figured me out right away so I changed alias and pfp/header but people still figured out it was me.

I blocked every single toxic person I came across, a few months passed and one day I was on Twitter again. This time, it was about an analysis of a scene in Stranger Things. Me and an iconic Byler here on tumblr were analysing the scene when everyone says goodbye at the end of season 3. First, Mike looked uncomfortable af when El kissed him, and later on he looked uncomfortable when she was close to him, hugging and touching and making a forehead touch. In one of the gifs, to ME it looked like the hand movement from El was kinda harsh when they made that forehead touch and I just couldn’t understand how people thought it was cute. It was a personal opinion and just a harmless analysis. Both me and this other person were also saying “Nothing against El though, she’s a kid, but I guess if the roles were reversed - if Mike would be the one to kiss El with her not kissing back, with open eyes, looking uncomfortable and shocked, I guess people would have accused him for SA or something. Not that we did, but we know that it would look a lot more bad if Mike was the one who kissed her and not vice versa simply because of the statistics. WE NEVER ACCUSED EL FOR SA. We both love her and she’s my favorite female character in the show. I just don’t like the SHIP Mlvn and I didn’t get how people thought that scene was cute. It was simply an analysis, nothing more. Not an accusation. Not a hate post. That post had over 200 likes and LOADS of reblogs with people who thought the same. But still only me and my friend were attacked. That also lead to ANOTHER accusation: of me being antisemitic. Why?

In year 2006, I first started my YouTube channel. I was very interested in learning how to edit, so thanks to tutorials I learned by myself how to edit. I was 14 years old when I read Anne Frank’s diary for the first time and I saw so much of myself in her. I also loved the way she described her relationship with Peter in the diary, so I watched “Anne Frank: The Whole Story” from 2001 and thanks to my family I could get that movie on my computer so I could make tribute videos of her since she inspired me so much, to never give up on my dreams and to ALWAYS follow my heart and believe that every person is truly good at heart. I made my own trailer for the movie, because there was none to be found on YouTube. My edits became very popular for being back in 2007, and soon loads of people found them. 90% was so happy I made these tributes, that I let the memory of her and all the people who tragically was murdered by the nazi’s back in the 30/40’s live on. But there was also a bunch of REAL antisemitics who called Anne a bunch of horrible stuff in the comments, people who claimed the holocaust never happened etc and I was defending her and the other victims for dear life. I was so proud of my edits, like I said: I was 14 years old and she was my biggest inspiration. My parents also watched these and they didn’t think they were problematic in any way so of course I trusted them and their moral.

And yes, I also made two tribute edits of her and Peter (I didn’t even knew about the term “shipping” back then) but this person on Twitter said I was making “ship edits” about Anne Frank. I have made all of my old videos private now, mostly because of the bad quality but also because of this person who now made me embarrassed of them instead. I wouldn’t make these edits today. Here’s a glimpse of one of them:

Is this antisemitic in any way?

Anyways, because of this person + a lot of others, this made me and my friend to eventually deactivate our tumblr accounts. I hade SO much going on in my personal life back then too, so this was just too much. They found out things about my family situation and that made me freak out, I was threatening them with the cops just because they were attacking and stalking me and my family on a personal level. They were harassing me on TikTok. On DM. On Twitter. People were leaving me and I felt like shit. Luckily there was a bunch who still were standing by my side through all of this and I am SO grateful for you all. Never forget that, you guys made me come back here.

Also, now when one of my tweets became popular on Twitter, of COURSE these people found me and started spreading these rumors again. I found that out from some of my friends here, sending me ss.

I just can’t fucking believe these people. All because of a silly little tweet which ended up in a total DISASTER.

End of rant. I hope at lease some of you understand.

#angelwithnightmares #byler blog #priv rants

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shuttershocky · 2 years

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Hello Shutter! I was hoping you could help clarify something about Talulah's arc. So, Kashchey could not make her do anything that she didn't want to do. After she reached her breaking point, she began to lash out more and being less kind, falling into step with the theme of the cycle of abuse and her fulfilling how Kashchey wanted/groomed her to be, in spite of her previous best intentions. Kashchey strove to break Reunion apart from the inside out to hurt her. (1/2)

When Kaschey says that, he doesn't actually mean that Talulah is now cooperating with him in murdering her own movement and literal found family, because if he needed her cooperation he would have had a different approach. He means that if she chooses to resist him and fight for control, he will lose. Kaschey already knew that Talulah was proud, and years upon years of fascism brainwashing would not change her belief in the power of little people. Thus, his approach was never to make her think like him. The indoctrination was to plant the seeds of his mind into her, and once her will was crushed by despair, he could take over.

Despite Wei Yenwu being Kaschey's archnemesis, it's actually Fumizuki who correctly assesses that Kaschey's abilities are psionic Arts, and also rightly worries about what sort of emotional torture Talulah must be subjected to under Kaschey.

Basically, Talulah couldn't resist him because her mind and will had been completely broken. She will never believe that people were born to be ruled, but she could be made to lose hope that her fight would ever amount to anything. At that point, Kaschey could take over her will and kill everything she holds dear, nothing matters anyway. I guess you could call it a sort of ego death. She was so depressed and suicidal she didn't even resist when Kaschey held her own body hostage via a blade to the throat during the battle with Amiya and Ch'en.

Funny enough, you can say Amiya and Ch'en actually use a much more straightforward version of Kaschey's methodology against him to restore Talulah; the application of extraordinary amounts of pain until the current active ego passes out. Except rather than mental and emotional torture over years, they just beat the shit outta him, caveman style.

Kaschey is unable to control her again afterward because seeing Kaschey actually lose gave Talulah a new mission to keep her going: she will find a way to permanently kill Kaschey and destroy every piece of his influence and power, then she will atone for all she let him do by killing herself.

TL;DR - Talulah was so deep in despair that Kaschey could do whatever he wanted without any resistance. Resistance then came from the outside in the form of a teenage bunny in her emo phase, who proceeded to beat his ass up and down Chernobog until Talulah woke up.

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kitkatopinions · 1 year

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ALrighty!

Spoilers for RWBY ep.... 8 I think? Below the keep reading as well as criticism:

So I was wrong about the Cat. I wish it had turned out to be a morally dubious good guy, but whatever, guess the writers wanted yet another 'the person guiding you is actually not trustworthy' plot.

Here's what I'm gonna say - Neo got fucking taken over and possessed the moment that she actually started getting a spotlight as a villain? HATE that shit. I want Neo, not just some conglomerate taken over by the cat? And I don't like that she talked at all. It should've just been the cat's voice.

Idk if Little is dead or not, but I really don't care about or like Little, so if they are dead, okay??? Better than having to see them again tbh.

Seeing people 'resurrected' but all wrong was kind of dissatisfying? Torchwick was the only one of them who was actually used well (because rwby is going through plotpoints at the speed of light in fourteen to sixteen minute eps so of course we can't sit with things,) but his voice acting was off and so it messed with the immersion some. I don't blame them for not being able to get an exact copycat and I don't think they tried very hard since they didn't need Roman for long, but still, I wish his voice actor had done better. The animation of him was pretty good though.

Ruby ascended? Fuck that shit! I have hope that we're actually going to get 'Ruby down in the tree realizing what 'ascension' actually is, but first off, I wanted Ruby to have a breakdown and struggle, not to be full on suicidal and decide to basically kill herself. Second of all, if this means 'no more Ruby' I am going to be so pissed off. This is Ruby's show, right? Or it's supposed to be! Even if this means that we don't get much Ruby for the next two episodes, I'm still gonna be mad. The 'development' we've gotten so far is just Ruby being in pain, and then seemingly dying? I'm trying not to count my chickens before they hatch or whatever, but this could be worst case scenario, people.

The moment where Ruby was getting attacked by everyone who was dead was... Well, first off, it was weird. Because A. Why would Neo bring in Clover, Leo, and Ozpin? Was she just bringing in everyone she thinks that Ruby may have sort of known who died? Second off, why does Neo think Penny cared about Ruby most in the world? When did she have access to that information? How did she know to use Penny that way? Third off, I liked the 'Ruby strikes out at Ozpin, only for Neo to replace him with Oscar' thing in theory but I would be wrong if I didn't point out that once again the only member of Team RWBYJNOR with dark skin gets the most violent things happening, which is a bad pattern. I get that it may be because Oscar is actually more like Ruby's friend than the rest of her team atm (which is sad,) but I just think the writers should be aware that this is a thing they do that they maybe should correct. Maybe they could've had it be Weiss or Yang that Ruby 'accidentally killed' in these visions? Just a thought. Fourth off! I liked how Neo transformed people into Ruby's alive friends and family, judging her for the 'murder.' Fifth off, I just gotta say the combat was not good for me once again. Neo literally has several people there fighting for her, and they all shot like stormtroopers? Ruby's discombobulated and depressed, so her going down without much fight isn't the problem, the problem is that Neo alone by herself should have been able to easily bring her down, let alone with her clones there to help her. Maybe she only knew Roman well enough to really replicate his style, but Neo and Roman? Tag team of the century!

On to... Team WBYJ. I'm not even gonna get into the fact that Blake and Weiss were more sympathetic to Ruby's struggles than Yang was (I am really frustrated with Yang this season,) but they all just stand there and do nothing while Ruby drinks down poison? What the hell? That is not a freaking good look, guys.

Anyway... I don't know how to feel about this episode, but I'm mostly frustrated and disappointed. And on the other hand, I guess we got good pics of Roman and Neo? I'm gonna have to wait to form a concrete opinions on this ep until we can confirm what the frick actually happened next ep, but for now, it's looking like another 3/10. I got some enjoyment, but overall a bad experience once again.

#rwde #anti-rwby #rwby-crit #mention of suicide #tw; suicide #trigger warning; suicide #hate that I have to tag those

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theduckofindeed · 4 months

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An Overly Long Rant Concerning Sun from FNAF: HW2

I don’t normally do these kinds of rants, but I wanted to get something very silly and unimportant off my chest. When I found out that Sun was going to be in Help Wanted 2, I was both super excited to see more of my favorite boy and nervous that they would make some…undesirable changes to him. I mean, I already knew Moon was going to be in the game, and I wasn’t concerned too much about him, as he’s already aggressive. And then there’s Sun. He has a whole minigame dedicated to him. And I know how these minigames end if you get a game over. So what…are we finally going to get an actually fatal jumpscare from Sun? Is my dear, sweet ball of sunshine going to finally outright murder someone when he’s remained one of the only animatronics in the series that never kills you?

Well, in Sun’s jumpscare, he has red eyes, so maybe Moon’s starting to take over at this point? I dunno…even Glamrock Freddy kills you, and I still love him, so maybe that’s fine. Plus, one of his quotes implies he remembers you, so canonically, I guess you can lose the game and not die. Anway, what bothers me the most is Sun’s personality. I just feel like something is…off about him, y’know.

Most people like that Sun has become more sassy, but I seem to be one of the few people who isn’t too fond of the changes they made to his personality. I want to make it clear that I don’t have a problem with Sun having depth. In fact, I prefer it that way. It’s just that a lot of Sun’s appeal to me was that he was sweet and kind. He just struggled with anxiety and could get a bit crabby when people don’t follow the rules. That’s not a flat “perfect angel that can do no wrong” type of character. It’s just a character with a good heart and good intentions who also has flaws. Moody and sassy is one thing. In fact, a lot of this new side of Sun’s personality matches my headcanon for him fairly well.

I mean, I’ve always felt that Sun was the type to give someone the silent treatment if he was especially mad at them. It would probably be short-lived, but I don’t think he’s exactly above being childish and grumpy, like a normally well-behaved kid who’s had a particularly bad day.

In HW2, Sun getting aggravated when you do a bad job or purposely mess with him makes sense. That fits the Sun we already knew. As an example, he gets very aggravated at Cassie if she reaches him in Ruin without turning on even a single generator, saying, “No, turn ON the generators! Why aren’t you listening?” (Not to mention an even more obvious example…angrily banning Gregory from the Daycare, an action I have always strongly defended.) He clearly doesn’t like when his instructions are ignored, which makes sense for someone who needs to keep naughty kids in check. I mean, of course he’s going to get pretty ticked if he tells a kid not to eat glitter glue, and they do it anyway, just like a parent would get angry at a child for running into the street after being warned a million times not to do so. It’s his job to keep the kids safe, so if someone is thwarting his efforts to do his job properly, he’s going to get mad, both because he cares about the kids and because it reflects poorly on him. (Plus, he has the added stress of possibly getting decommissioned if he does a bad job, but the implications of that don’t fit with the scope of this post, so...)

I’m also okay with Sun telling you to go away, both in his sad little song in Ruin and in HW2 because he’s depressed and just wants to be left alone. Again, that doesn’t make Sun a bad person. Some people just don’t want to be bothered if they’re upset or in a bad mood. And a little bit of rudeness is understandable under certain circumstances, and I’d say Sun’s situation, where he’s fighting with a second, very aggressive personality that has full control when the lights are out, makes this behavior very justified.

And sure, I can understand that Sun might be more rude and impatient with staff (though he calls you a “bad kid”, which seems odd as you shouldn’t be a kid, plus I don’t see Sun yelling at the kids and calling them “bad” like that). I like to think that Sun is sweet and (mostly) patient with the kids (the ones who don’t really push his buttons). Nevertheless, while some of his dialogue can be dismissed as being annoyed at a grown adult for messing up or doing dumb things that an adult shouldn’t be doing, I can’t get over the fact that some of his comments feel outright…

Mean. Yes, mean. I’m okay with Sun being moody, childish, and easily irritated when he’s being ignored or mistreated. But I never, not in a million years, ever thought that “meanness” would be a trait I’d ever associate with Sun. But that’s seriously how he came across when he tells you that your art is “bad”, or it “stinks”, or how it makes him “feel dumber” just by looking at it. That just feels totally uncalled for. Or his random little line at the beginning of Moon’s carousel level (dude, stop hogging the spotlight; Moon deserves some love, too) where he says that, if it was up to him, he would have fixed the carousel by now. I know that’s certainly not the worst thing for someone to say. It just felt totally unprovoked and out of nowhere. I mean, you had just started the minigame at this point. Where was Sun’s crappy attitude even coming from?

He’s also rather pretentious in this game, as well, another new trait I'm not too fond of. I don’t think Sun has to be super humble or even self-deprecating, but this level of arrogance seems more befitting of Roxy or Monty, not Sun.

Maybe I’m nitpicking over a few lines of dialogue when the majority of it doesn’t even contradict the Sun I’ve already had in my head. It’s just that those certain lines of dialogue feel so very out of character and make Sun look like a mean-spirited, cold-hearted creep when the Sun I thought I knew was sweet and kindhearted and gentle. (It would be like Glamrock Freddy getting really mean out of nowhere for 10% of his dialogue. It would be really confusing and jarring!) I mean, I sure hope he never says any of those things to the kids! He’d make them cry!

Sun was just my little ray of sunshine. Even in my headcanon, he was definitely not a perfect angel. (If you’re interested in a little bit of insight into a fan fic I’m writing, please check out another post I’m writing soon.) And considering some stuff I’ve been going through in recent months, I really needed a sweetheart like him in my life, even if he’s fictitious. Now it feels like I’m seeing a decidedly ugly new side of a close friend, making me question who this person was this whole time.

I just read another post that I reblogged where someone was concerned that we’d lose the softer, sweeter Sun that many of us had grown to love. I had the very same fear. Just before, I scrolled through countless pieces of new fan art where Sun is being unkind to children over their mediocre art skills. I know people are just interested in this new side of Sun that we’ve never seen before, but I hope sweet Sun isn’t going away.

This is why I was concerned about Sun’s inclusion in HW2. Before, we had just a small insight into his character, leaving plenty of room for interpretation. Now, I feel like his personality is becoming more set in stone, and soon enough, there won’t be any wiggle room left to fill in the gaps unless someone wants to outright ignore canon. Sure, I can write Sun any way I want, but I prefer him to be as accurate as possible to the games, and now I no longer like canon-Sun as much as I used to.

On a more positive note, a lot of Sun’s new dialogue is very funny, and Kellen Goff delivers them perfectly! I love his adorable giggles and I'm particularly fond of the lines related to you getting ulcers and indigestion from eating the supplies. I'm also happy that Sun stands up for himself when you mess with him. It's good to see he doesn't let people take advantage of him. I guess I just find it so weird that Sun is surprisingly polite (even if clearly annoyed) when you're purposely bring a jerk to him, and then he gets randomly mean when you simply paint a picture wrong. Seriously, did someone else write this portion of the dialogue?

Okay, the way I see it, my Sun’s still a good boy. He’s just not as oblivious as we all were led to believe, as he’s probably more than aware of how crappy adults can be and deeply dislikes them. I'm just going to believe that he was having a bad day in HW2 and leave it at that. Because I really want to believe that Sun is genuinely a friendly and sweet guy who loves the kids and just can’t stand adults. I mean, his little sad song in Ruin definitely implies that he misses the Daycare and doing arts and crafts with the kids. He himself has clearly drawn a bunch of pictures in glitter glue (I just don’t see those being Moon’s) and has kids’ drawings hanging up in their room. That doesn't sound like someone who hates working with kids or who would look upon a child's drawing, no matter how bad it is, with disdain.

TLDR: Most people prefer Sun’s new sassy personality in Help Wanted 2. I just felt like he came across as mean, and I don’t feel like it matched his personality in Security Breach and Ruin. I know Sun can be anxious, childish, and bad-tempered. I don’t expect him to be a perfect angel. I just don’t like how mean he can be in HW2, especially when it feels unprovoked.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf help wanted 2 #fnaf security breach #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant

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creativeafterdark · 7 months

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Chapter 9 and 10

Heyo folks taking a @journeythroughjourneytothewest

Had to take a break from book club last week, burn out was very bad. But I've had a week to relax, celebrated my birthday and slept most of the day lol. Let's get back into Journey to the West

First: Chapter 9.

We finally meet our Monk and learn the story of his family!

We don't spend a lot of time learning about them (minus his Dad, gets a thumbs up from me. Kind to all and easy going enough to be like "I got hit by a ball-- oh I'm married now? Okay cool". Like talk about a shotgun wedding), but we do see little bits that remind me of our Monk. He does share his kindness with his Dad, and I genuinely think his anxiety is from his mom. I'll talk about her in a minute because she is a whole other thing.

My one question is... wouldn't other officials notice that Liu Hong, essentially becoming Chen E, had no idea what he was doing??? He went on business trips, did no one recognize he wasn't who he said he was????? I mean you would think anyone who took the exams with him who got positions would be like "uh... that's not him tf??". Or they just did not care. Who knows at this point. Apparently he had Six Eared Macaque level disguise skill, rolled a nat 20 in bullshitery.

Now. Lady Yin. The poor lady went through hell for over 18 years. She had to watch her husband get murdered, had to abandon her baby, and had to play wife to a murderer. Even when her husband came back... I'm not surprised she still ended up passing. That's a lot of guilt (and I'm sure Liu Hong was not kind to her) on her mind for a LONG period of time, nearly two decades. I wish there was a happy ending for the family but I get why it ended how it did, knowing what depression and anxiety can do to people.

Now our baby Monk. Our Xuanzang. I am so proud of him for being as brave as he was. This recently turned 18 year old did everything he could to help his family. Licking his grandma's eyeballs was...a choice. But it was for a good cause so good on him. I can see why he was a good choice as the Scroll Pilgrim.

And as promised, a sketch of Xuanzang

And as a bonus baby Monk with a doggo

But now we move to Chapter 10.

...I legit got annoyed going thru the debate between the fisherman and woodman. Like it went on far longer than it should have. I'm sure there was a profound moment that we're supposed to glean from it but I just wasn't receptive to it. Maybe I'll read it again.

Anyway.

I have been doing some looking into of Chinese historical heroes (I desperately want to read Romance of the three kingdoms, and I need more reading material about folk heroes and heroines) so seeing some references to the stuff I learned made me happy. There was mention of Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang and the painting of The Emporer's Generals on the doors (supposedly the Tang dynasty is where this practice was first used. A few three kingdom folks also get this treatment as door gods, or menshen, along with other important heroes and deities. Makes me wonder if the Emperor essentially deified his Generals and Wei Zheng. How does Heaven handle that?)

Fun fact! In my jttw x mythology story Wukong will work with Asena, mythical wolf mother of the Ashina Clan of Gokturks. Guess which dynasty of China had to deal with them a lot? :)

Anyway.

I've also come to the conclusion that Dragons just like to fuck around and find out. Like, the Dragon King just goes against heaven's orders to spite a very accurate fortune teller, does not even THINK of the consequences, and is surprised Pikachu face when he gets in trouble. Also not sure why he thought appealing to an earthly emporer would save him from THE SUPREME DAOIST DEITY'S JUDGMENT. Like, y'all, I'm beginning to think dragons just don't give a crap or just don't think. Got what he deserved for being dumb. Did the emporer make promises he shouldn't have? No doubt, you don't promise supernatural beings anything because it will make you want to die if they catch wind of you breaking promises, regardless of nationality. Did he deserve what he got? .... I mean historically probably but in the sense of this story, no.

I find the Tang dynasty interesting (because it gave us a certain Empress and had some fun female warriors, like Taizong's sister, who helped her father found the dynasty) and I can definitely thank jttw for getting my attention about it.

I think that's all I have as far as thoughts. And I apologize if my rambles just jumped around too much lol.

Over and out ✌️

#journey to the west #jttw book club #jttw tang sanzang #jttw Xuanzang #xuanzang #slight mention of #jttw x mythology #the more you know

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episodeoftv · 7 months

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Round 2 of 8, Group 4 of 4

propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)

Sandman: 1.06 The Sound of her Wings

TW death, I guess, but it's treated in a very lovely way

Feeling a bit rudderless, Morpheus shadows his hard-working big sister, who offers him advice and encourages him to reconnect with an old acquaintance.

I've watched this episode like 4 times and the rest only one, that's how good it is. It also has the quality of being pretty independant from the rest of the show, so it's easy to only watch this one without rewatching all of them. It's divided in two parts: the first one is Dream following his sister Death as she collects the souls of dying people, it's a very poetic-looking episode, you can see the people embracing her and Death being really nice to them, it's incredibly lovely. By allowing Dream to follow her around, Death is also trying to show him that they exist thanks to humans, and that humans are their purpose and it's an honor to be there for them when they need it. Dream really needed that, because he was in a quest during the first 5 episodes and had a "and now what?" moment that made him a bit depressed once the quest was over. Anyway, the second part of the episode is the slowest burn you've ever seen. It shows Death giving immortality to a man, Hob Gadling, in 1384 (I think?) and Dream meeting him every 100 years to check if he still wanted to live. It's extremely gay, they keep having sex with their eyes (it's not canon that they're in love, though, but it's nice to imagine). Anyway, if you don't want to watch the whole show, I would advise to just watch this one episode, it's really great

Star Wars: The Clone Wars: 6.04 Orders

Fives believes he's uncovered a major conspiracy regarding the mysterious actions of clone trooper Tup, and finds himself on-the-run after he's falsely accused of attempting to murder the Chancellor.

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #the clone wars #poll #polls #round2 #r2g4

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noddytheornithopod · 1 year

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Alright, gonna post some more Despair Time rambles because we're now on hiatus and gosh I need the copium

With David proving to be as deceptive as he is, many are understandably questioning if he's actually exaggerating his "evil" persona. I don't have strong opinions yet, but I do think this is an interesting idea. It kind of appeals to me because it does kind of have that Kokichi element of struggling to learn his true intentions, and I love those kinds of characters. When I was expecting a reveal/breakdown, I kind of WAS expecting something like Kokichi but more charismatic.

Granted, IDK if he's exactly like Kokichi besides being unable to trust anything he says, I actually see many comparing him to Syobai from SDRA2, and while I do see it, Syobai seems more apathetic with his cynicism, while David actually seems bitter about something. Something I saw that could tie into the idea his depression could still be true is that there's an element of self loathing, and maybe he hasn't just given up on everyone else, but HIMSELF too.

I bring this up because people seemed to think his breakdown over Arei last episode was genuine. He also seemed genuinely shocked when Arei hugged him, IMO. Also just contradictory things he says about her and in general. So if this all ends up being the case and we follow this train of thought... what if David actually envies Arei? If we assume he believes people are set in their ways and can't change, what if Arei deciding to try and make that effort touched a nerve in him? And I mean, he was kind of a catalyst for that too, with her breakdown and confession, so dude must have a lot of weird complicated feelings there.

Another thing I was thinking about is possibilities if Hu ISN'T the killer. Like, I still think she's most likely for reasons I've said, but to entertain the idea she isn't... I see people focusing a lot on Levi, especially if he potentially has the murder secret. This is mostly my gut, but even if there's potential there, it's not my first guess, mostly because I just feel like there's less stakes and build up than if it were say Hu, especially after her getting pissed at David after seemingly confiding in him.

I had a weird thought, and I honestly don't even really believe it... but what if Nico IS the killer, for whatever reason? My thing with Hu is that her breaking down seems like something that would have the most impact if she's the killer... but Nico could also hurt her. Like, I finally get why Hu has been so weird and coddling towards them: she feels the need to be that motherly figure for everyone, and Nico is someone she feels she can easily step in and protect because they seem shy and defenceless.

Basically, it would force her to realise Nico's agency, that even if they were being bullied and such, they're still as capable of darkness as anyone else here. But Nico would then have to die, and that would fuck her up. Like I said, I really am not subscribing to this, and I have also seen Hu does understandably make people uncomfortable with her coddling of Nico, with them being very Autistic coded and Hu reminding people of infantilisation we face.

Even if Nico proves their agency, them still dying might upset people because it's a neurodivergent coded character dying to serve another's development. Thing is, I love Nico too, but I also don't mind Danganronpa doing dark stuff, I mean people dying is kind of the whole thing. Also, with how many characters feel Autistic coded to me, it doesn't seem AS much of a loss, and while I don't want to speculate about the creator, the amount of ND coded characters makes me suspect they themselves could be ND, and that plus how well everyone has been handled gives me confidence that whatever happens will work as a story and not feel cheap.

The only other reason I'm entertaining this thought besides David calling out Hu and her coddling of Nico is... what if Ace turns out to be right? He just comes off as so hostile and unreasonable that realising he's telling the truth that Nico is the killer is unexpected.

While I'm mainly focused on Hu as my prime suspect, I am also curious about Whit. Like seriously, defending David's motive was really weird to me (combined with derailing Teruko), it makes me wonder if he has involvement that we're yet to learn about.

I also bring up more suspects because when Charles said they fucked up, I see many people suggesting it could be the time of murder, and it would possibly change the suspects.

Oh also a thought: people have rightfully pointed out that Teruko and David serve as mirror or parallel characters to each other, with their cynical outlooks on people. I totally buy that they're being set up as foils, but I also want to consider... Ace could be yet another. Like, he's the OG example of being mistrusting and paranoid. I feel like he could also serve as a mirror to Teruko in some ways. And like David, he even now is relishing in pissing people off.

Okay... that's everything for now. Now here's hoping the Despair Time creator gets the break they deserve and can recover nicely, not just so we finally get resolution to this chapter, but for their sake too, because these stories are made by people first and foremost.

#drdt spoilers #danganronpa: despair time #danganronpa: despair time spoilers #david chiem #hu jing #nico hakobyan #ace markey #okay those are the main characters i focused on i think

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angorwhosebabyisthis · 3 months

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one thing that does make me a little nervous sometimes about writing up pericles meta is that like.... quite a lot of it goes in-depth about the extent of how incredibly vile and cruel the things are that he does to other characters, and his reasons for doing them. that's Important, and i do my best not to try to cushion it, despite discussing how it plays into his trauma and the shit hand he was dealt and vice versa. if anything the juxtaposition of those things is the point of all this meta for me, and it gets to the heart of so, so much that resonates with me about sdmi. erasing that would be a disservice to him and basically every other character in the show that i'm invested in.

.....and at the same time it's always really sucked how often i see people talk about how one-note pure evil he is, how it's impossible to write him as a complex or sympathetic character without making him totally OOC, how people who genuinely like him are [insert apologist here], how you're not allowed to enjoy exploring the awful dynamics he gets into with people, how they want him to be gruesomely murdered by the protags and think it'd be funny and satisfying and the show would be better for it, and just generally talk about How Much They Straightforwardly Hate Him Because He Does Bad Things. not everyone does this, thankfully, but enough of them have over the years that i just don't really want to see it anymore.

i know i joke all the time about how 'i love him and he makes me sad but i am going to peel him like a banana,' and i'm not going to try to tell other people they can't dislike him or anything, especially since i know a lot of the stuff he does is going to be really fucking triggering for some people. i do my best to just curate and block, mute, or scroll past if i need to. but he's genuinely one of my favorite characters ever and he means a lot to me--especially since i can relate hard to a lot of the sympathetic themes behind his being a piece of shit--and when i write my meta posts about him, i do it to share what i love about his character, and maybe get some people to appreciate him in a new light. and the idea of actively adding to the torches and pitchforks instead is..... kind of depressing to me and i really hope that's not how it turns out.

basically i guess this is me asking preemptively, before i start writing up posts Really Getting Into His Awful Shit at Great Length and in Great Detail, that folks please be mindful with 'i hate this fucking bird' comments on posts i make. i do hope people enjoy reading what i have to say about him, and get something out of it, but.... yeah. he sucks real bad but please be nice.

#sdmi #scooby doo: mystery incorporated #professor pericles #this isn't a blanket ban on OH THIS MOTHERFUCKER or anything; because He is a Motherfucker and That's the Point #i just don't really want to hear about how much people hate him for being a Stinky Cheese Blorbo #especially given how often it veers into like. straight up holocaust denial tropes. that's always fun #if you don't know what i mean by that i recommend reading/watching takedowns/discussions of james so/merton's 'gay nazis' bullshit #because yeah that is uh. yeah. anyway calling him a nazi is a great way to catch a block from me #SDMItag #whosebaby talks #the salt files #holocaust mention cw #nazi mention cw

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distort-opia · 2 years

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Has Joker ever flirted with Riddler in comics? Reevesverse riddlejokes got me hyped because they seem lowkey wholesome together, but idk if there's any canon merit to that.

Well. No, and yes? It depends on how you want to look at it, I suppose.

In my eyes they're frenemies with a good amount of tension; I don't ship them, but I think they're a lot of fun to see interact. Joker doesn't always get along with his fellow villains, since he tends to be feared for his cruelty and unpredictability even by other criminals... or simply considered terribly annoying. But he seems to have a kind of villainous competition going with Riddler, at least in earlier years, for the title of Batman's greatest rival. Or rather... Riddler has it with him? Out of the two, it's Edward that seems more interested in proving his superiority, and Joker tends to dismiss him or egg him on just to get on his nerves. Joker generally really enjoys getting on people's nerves.

I ended up going through comics I remembered having more relevant Joker & Riddler interactions in a vaguely chronological manner, to get an idea of it... for my own curiosity and records as well. I'm putting the comic panels and the discussion under the cut, as always.

A relevant and relatively recent Joker & Riddler comic takes place at the end of Bruce's first year as Batman: The War of Jokes and Riddles, otherwise abbreviated as TWOJAR. Riddler realizes that Joker cannot laugh anymore, and endeavours to be the one to solve the why of it. To be the one to make him laugh.

-- Batman (2016) #25

Joker had been directing the puzzle at Batman (as usual), but then Riddler intervenes. And it... doesn't go over well. Joker shoots Riddler and then Batman pretty much leaves him for dead. Joker and Riddler then end up in a war for Gotham, each of them taking over one half of the city and recruiting different allies in a fight that's tearing Gotham apart, and that Bruce is desperate to stop. All along, Joker is not very respectful towards Edward:

-- Batman (2016) #29

In the end, it's more of a Batjokes story, tbh. It's about Joker stopping Bruce from killing Riddler, but not because he cares about Edward -- but because he doesn't want Batman to become a murderer, and thus stop being Batman. Although I guess you could argue Edward ultimately did make Joker laugh. Just not in a way he ever predicted. He pissed Bruce off so much he attempted murder (an utterly hilarious ongoing theme, Bruce seems to be deathly annoyed by Edward in particular, so many times).

But they don't seem to hold that much of a grudge, going forward :)) Such is life when you're a supervillain, I guess. Later on, somewhere around the beginning of Tim's time as Robin, Edward calls Joker first to brag about teaming up with Batman:

-- Batman: Run, Riddler, Run

They also have the same "frenemies who take shots at each other" vibe in a flashback to the earlier years:

-- Batman (2016) #90

Then they seem to be getting along in the same vein, in a story that takes place immediately after the earthquake that hit Gotham in Batman: Cataclysm:

-- Arkham Asylum: Tales of Madness

Really do recommend this little comic, it's got especially fun interactions between Joker, Riddler, Scarecrow and Killer Croc, with Joker as the ringleader (which tends to happen more often than not).

Then there's Riddler's oneshot in Joker's Asylum, a series of stories told from Joker's perspective about multiple Gotham Rogues -- which is actually pretty great and I do recommend it overall (Joker breaking the fourth wall, my beloved). We don't really get interactions between Joker and Riddler, or at least not direct ones. As Joker tells the story of Edward falling in love with a woman as with a riddle he needs to solve, and then getting depressed when he's rejected, there's one villain that shows up at his door...

-- Joker's Asylum II: The Riddler

Joker makes who the visitor was a mystery, but it's most likely him (or Riddler himself, but look, I personally think Joker was the visitor and Riddler himself tipped off the police later due to his compulsion to leave clues). And so, seeing as it's probably Joker, "Want me to snap your neck?" and "That a promise?" is really endearing to me. On the whole, it's an interesting story, since it's a window into how Joker views Riddler as much as it is a story about Edward.

Then there's this absolute gem of an interaction that takes place sometime after No Man's Land concludes:

-- Justice Leagues: Justice League of Arkham (2001)

Bruce hosing them down like two misbehaving cats is utterly hilarious. I love it. And seeing as Joker's very definition of flirting is pissing people off, I'd say that this qualifies.

[sigh] Chronologically then there's... the Hush Returns storyline from Gotham Knights #50-55, but I'm pretty sure it isn't canon. If it was, Joker's name and history should've been known to everyone a long time ago -- and it wasn't, clearly. Basically, in this story, Riddler apparently witnessed how the murder of Joker's wife happened, and he has the name of the man responsible; he's got something Joker wants, and so Joker protects him from Hush, who's after Riddler. Yeah, that's right, it's making The Killing Joke fully canon, but by having Joker remember everything perfectly. Hate it. Skip.

The rivalry vibe does continue, though, if this is any indication (yes, that's Edward, and yes, it is confusing):

-- Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #189

And during Battle for the Cowl, later on, there's this:

-- Batman: Battle for the Cowl -- The Underground

"Dear God, let the Joker not be right behind me." Lmao. Wonder how many people get this train of thought a day in Gotham.

And well, Joker certainly seems to be trying to get on Edward's good side so he can be part of his scheme in Death of the Family, in the New 52:

-- Batman (2011) #15

Love the "you keep his sword nice and sharp" metaphor from Joker. Not an euphemism at all, no sir. Still, since Joker did choose Edward as one of the four most important villains to Batman, there's truth in what he's saying; he does respect what function Riddler serves. However... it's once again quite obvious that it's all about Batman to him, much like in TWOJAR.

And well, since then, there's been this tidbit in Batman: Preludes to the Wedding -- Batgirl vs. Riddler:

Tbh, the idea of Joker tying Edward to a chair and complaining about how he wasn't invited to Batman's wedding while Edward's having his whole life flash before his eyes is quite funny. But obviously, Joker knew what he was doing by dropping that word, since it did get Edward to attack and stir up trouble, which is what Joker orchestrated thorought the whole volume (or "kicked up hornets' nests", to quote Dick).

I guess, to conclude, Joker and Riddler had an ongoing rivalry for a while, with more lighthearted banter here and there. Joker does respect Edward and his intellect to a degree, enough to both fight him and recruit him; however, at the end of the day Joker doesn't see anyone as more important or intelligent than himself. He views only Batman as an equal. And the competition for Batman's attention is more what Edward cared about, but even he's clearly scared by Joker and defers to him in different stories. And that's just healthy survival instincts, honestly.

I do want to say these are comics I can personally think of. I did not include Elseworlds, or comics not in continuity like Azzarello's The Joker because I hate it; also, it's Clayface in Batman (2016) #75 and #81, not Joker, so I didn't include those issues either. But there's certainly other interactions out there, and if anyone wants to add to this, please do! Hope you had fun going through these, Anon. And that they're allowing you to make an idea for yourself of Joker and Riddler's vibes in comics.

#chronology is a disease. I need to stop trying to fit everything into a timeline #that's a nigh impossible task with comics that'll only eventually serve as my damn villain origin story #asks #riddlejokes #joker #riddler #edward nygma #riddlejokes meta #batman #gotham rogues #my meta

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