#but this is really showing the absolute worst that our world has to offer
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I didn’t get a presale code but all these horror stories about everything happening makes me wonder if I should just wait for the camera phone videos on YouTube :/
#taylor swift#i Wanna see her so bad#but this is really showing the absolute worst that our world has to offer#resale scammers selling tickets for $20k#the website crashing for half the people#waiting in line for hours and then not being able to get tickets#hopefully they fix everything for general sale#but Im lowkey starting to give up on ever going to this concert
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Static | Alastor x Reader Oneshot
“Alastor, the radio demon, is supposedly quite a popular name in Hell. So much so that his name had somehow ventured into the human world.”
“Some people have even tried to summon the demon by giving him offerings hoping he’d show himself to them and grant them powers beyond their own capabilities.”
My friend Naomi explains to me while we walk to our class. “Don’t tell me you’ve tried to summon him.” I sigh. “You usually don’t bring this kind of stuff up before you’ve tried it.”
She’s always been into magic and witchcraft. I honestly don’t understand any of it but she loves talking to me about it.
I definitely believe that kind of stuff exists in the world but it can be so confusing, especially when people make stuff up all the time.
Naomi has said she’s experienced many phenomenons before but she has quite a creative mind.
Naomi grins as she nods her head. “Of course I’ve tried it! Would you like to give it a try? I have the instructions written down in one of my spellbooks.” She starts to rummage around in her backpack.
“It shouldn’t take long. We can do it after school gets out today.” My eyes go wide as I pull her arm stopping us from walking.
“Are you crazy? Absolutely not. No way do I want to try that.” Naomi chuckles. “You really need to learn to have some fun.”
She continues, “There’s no harm in calling out a demon and asking for powers. Besides, you don’t think he’ll actually show up do you?”
I just stare at her. She’s crazy, she has to be crazy. “No harm?” I echo bewildered. I let out a strained laugh. “I honestly don’t even know how to respond to what you just said.”
Naomi shrugs. “The worst thing that can happen is the summoning doesn’t work and your day proceeds as normal. That’s what I call ‘no harm’.” Her smile widens.
“And,” she adds. “It’s our senior year. We have to do something fun and mysterious.” I sigh again. “I guess you’re right.” I readjust my backpack as I take a second to think. “Alright, let’s do it.”
Naomi squeals with delight. “Oh! You’re not going to regret it, not one bit! This is going to be amazing, just you wait and see!” She pulls a small leather bound book out of her backpack.
“Here we are. ‘How to summon demons 101.’ Let’s see what we need…” Naomi starts to scan through a few of the book’s pages.
I see other students look at us as they walk past and I can feel my face heat up. “Maybe we should look at your book after school.” I suggest quietly.
Naomi’s eyebrows raise as she looks up at me. “Yeah… I guess that would be for the best. This isn’t exactly the type of thing you can just pull out of your backpack and flip through in the middle of a hallway without drawing attention to yourself.”
She quickly puts her book back away and we continue to walk to our class.
A few minutes later, we arrive at our class and quickly shuffle into our seats. I look over at Naomi and she’s grinning at me before turning back to face the front of the room.
The teacher quickly walks into the classroom, and class begins. The class progresses as it normally would. The teacher gives the lesson and asks a few questions here and there.
A few times, I catch Naomi looking in my direction, likely waiting until the end of class to start the summoning.
The clock on the wall slowly creeps closer to the end of class. The other students gradually lose interest in the lecture and start to daydream as the teacher keeps lecturing on.
After a few more minutes of lecturing, the teacher pauses. “That’s all the time we have for today. I’d like to end the day with a reminder of our next assignment and the due date for the project we’ve been working on all week.”
I can see Naomi jittering in her seat as we wait to be dismissed and I roll my eyes with a small smile.
The teacher makes a few more announcements before the bell rings. The class quickly rises to their feet and most students start to shuffle for the door.
As I try to make my way to the door, I bump into Naomi who eagerly grabs onto my arm in a tight grip. “Let’s go, you ready?”
I nod. “As ready as I can be.” Naomi squeals once more. “Yes, that’s the spirit!” She starts to pull me out of the classroom, down the hallway and out the front of the school.
─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───
We get to Naomi’s house after a short walk and as we walk in she checks to make sure her parents aren’t home.
“Quick, let’s go up to my room.” Naomi’s eyes dart back and forth as she leads me up the stairs and into her bedroom.
Naomi quickly shuts the door behind me and I can hear her quietly lock the door. She quickly heads over to her bed, places her backpack on it, and pulls out her spellbook.
Naomi quickly flips through the pages as she starts listing off some of the items needed. “Okay… Here’s what we need: a black candle, a glass of water, a salt circle, and the words spoken in the summoning.”
I nod as I walk towards her bed to place my backpack down as well. “Can I see?” I ask, trying to take a peek at her book.
Naomi chuckles and shakes her head. “Not now. As soon as everything is set-up, I’ll let you get a glance.” She closes her book fast.
“Now help me grab some supplies from the closet. I only have one candle.” Naomi walks over to the closet as she waits for me to join her.
I immediately get a strange feeling but shrug it off and walk towards her.
The two of us enter the closet and start grabbing the supplies needed for the candle and the salt circle.
Naomi grabs the candle and a lighter, as well as a small glass for the water while I grab a large bag of salt that’s sitting on the top shelf of the closet.
I make sure to hold the bag of salt carefully so that it doesn’t spill. I then join Naomi back in the middle of the room and she starts to pour the salt into a near perfect circle around the middle of the ground.
As she pours the salt, I can see Naomi make sure that every inch of the circle is covered.
At the very center of the circle, she places the candle and the glass of water. “What’s the glass of water for?” I ask curiously.
“It’s the vessel that holds the demon’s spirit which allows him to take a physical form.” Naomi’s eyes light up as she explains this to you.
I begin to ask another question but she cuts me off. “Oh! I forgot we also need a knife. I’ll be right back.” She runs out of the room as I process what she said. “A knife? Hmm that’s weird.” I mumble.
I have a quiet moment to myself while Naomi is out of the room. I take this moment to walk towards her book and flip through the pages quickly.
The last few cover the ritual we were planning on doing and my eyes widen when I realize none of the materials we collected were used to summon the radio demon.
Suddenly I hear her footsteps coming back up the hallway making me close the book fast. As I’m holding it I make a split second decision to shove it into my backpack.
I then quickly ran to stand back in the area I was in before she left. She opens the door, holding a small steak knife in her hand as she smiles at me.
Naomi happily holds up the knife for me to see. “Look! Isn’t it shiny? It’ll make the ritual look cooler, especially when we plunge it into... Oh well you’ll find out in no time.”
I just stare at her trying to remain calm. “That’s when the fun part starts!” Her eyes shimmer as she stares at me.
“You know,” I start off. “I don’t know if I’m feeling up to this anymore. I didn’t tell my parents I was stopping over here so I should probably head home.” I say quietly.
“Huh? What do you mean you’re not feeling up for this?” Naomi’s voice sharpens as she steps toward me.
I instinctively take a step back as I feel my voice catch in my throat.
“No, no, no. You’re not leaving until this is finished.” Naomi starts walking toward me with the knife held up in front of her.
I continue to walk back more hoping to get to my backpack. “I’m really sorry but maybe another time?” I lie hoping to sound believable enough.
Her voice grows louder as she continues to walk toward me. “Another time? What do you mean another time? No, you’re not leaving until this is finished! There’s no turning back now, we’re in way too far.”
I grab my backpack and try to sidestep her to get to her boardroom door.
As soon as I start to pass her Naomi’s arm quickly reaches out and grabs me.
She pulls me close to her and holds the knife close to my neck as she speaks in a slightly quieter voice, although she’s still angry and loud. “I told you there’s no turning back. You’re not leaving until this is finished.”
“Please let go of me Naomi.” I whisper out. “You really don’t need me for this.” Naomi grips my arm slightly tighter as she tightens the knife against my neck.
She laughs lightly as she stares into my eyes with a devious expression. “Oh, but I do. The ritual calls for a sacrifice and you happen to be the lucky one that I’ve chosen.”
I grab her hand trying to get her to let go of my arm. In response she tightens her grip even more with each time I try to pull her hand off.
“What did I just say? The ritual requires a sacrifice and I can’t have you backing out on me now. I’ve been waiting to summon this demon for months.” My eyes widen as I come to a realization.
“So, you’re gonna sit down and stay put until it’s finished. Okay?” I feel myself start to shake.
“Did you- did you become friends with me just because you wanted to use me for this…” I pause as I take a second to swallow. “For this ritual?”
Naomi’s eyes narrow as she leans in close to my ear to answer. “Of course I did. What, you didn’t think that I’d genuinely want to be friends with you, did you?”
She waits to see if she can get any reaction out of me before continuing. “I saw you standing there by yourself, like a lost little deer, and I knew that I could use you to my advantage.”
She leans back a bit to laugh at the situation causing the knife to stray away from my neck slightly. A strange static feeling in the air makes me notice the knife’s gap.
I quickly dart my eyes around the room and notice that she never re-locked the door after getting the knife.
I use this opportunity to sling my backpack off my shoulder and shove it into her creating enough distance between us.
Naomi lets out a shriek of frustration and surprise as the backpack bumps into her.
She drops the knife and I have enough time to make a break for it. I quickly run out of her room and down the stairs to the door.
I hear her shout out my name from behind me, but I don’t slow down and refuse to turn around to look at her.
Instead, I keep running down the stairs as I open the front door and sprint as fast as I can out the front door and down the sidewalk.
My heart beats out of my chest as I run as fast as I can towards my house.
I get there safely and rush inside, immediately shutting and locking the door behind me.
I sigh in relief as I lean against the wall and take a few deep breaths.
After I’ve calmed down a bit I stand up from against the door. I look around and notice my parents aren’t home yet so I head to my room.
My mind is racing as I realize what just happened. I’ve just escaped from Naomi who planned to sacrifice me in order to summon a demon.
I’m lucky to be alive, and it was pure luck that I happened to slip away. That weird static feeling in the air gave me enough courage to try and create enough space between us for me to run.
I can’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort knowing that the static feeling seemed to have given me some courage to make a break for it.
It’s like something was watching over me in that moment. Whether is was a good or bad something I couldn't care less.
I then remembered I swiped her book earlier. I immediately put my backpack on my bed and pulled out the book.
I flip through the pages, looking for anything that could give me a better idea of what kind of ritual Naomi was planning.
It’s clear it was some sort of demon summoning ritual, but I’m still anxious about what the book has to say about it.
Instead, I feel that static presence once more and before I know it I’ve flipped to the page about the radio demon.
The moment my eyes read the words “The radio demon,” I can feel my heart stop in my chest.
The static feeling in the air intensifies, making the words on the page almost glow. My mind becomes fuzzy while my body remains motionless as I try to process all of this.
I skim over the different sections describing the many reasons people try to summon the radio demon. Some of them are more selfish while others are more selfless.
The section on revenge catches my attention as I imagine getting revenge against Naomi.
It explains that one of the perks of summoning the radio demon is having the ability to exact revenge on those who have wronged you.
The exact method of how to summon him isn’t too complicated and only requires a few items, all of which I’ve got in my room.
I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t try this just for… fuck it I think. “What’s the worst that could happen?” I mock her earlier words.
“Alright. Two can play this game Naomi .” I mutter as I go around my room collecting the materials needed to summon the demon.
By the time I’ve gotten all the items set up, J can’t help but feel nervous.
What if this actually works? What if some kind of demon really shows up in my bedroom?
I feel the static presence in the air get stronger, almost as if something is reassuring me that I’m doing the right thing.
The static presence grows stronger but also warmer as it blankets over my body. The longer I stand in it, the more comfortable I feel.
That’s when my brain starts to wander with questions. What exactly will the demon do once it’s summoned? Will it just stand in my room or will it make itself home in my room?
I can’t help but feel the urge to summon him as the static starts to comfort me. As the static presence continues to grow the urge becomes stronger.
My body feels at ease and any worry or doubts I had start to diminish with every breath.
I begin to recite the words written in the book as the static grows even more.
As I continue to speak I start to hear whispers. Whispers that sound as though they are being transmitted through an old-fashioned radio.
I can barely make out any words from the whispers. They just sound like incomprehensible murmurs.
I close my eyes as I continue. As I finish speaking I keep my eyes closed and I can feel the static in the air. It’s so strong that it makes me think the static has formed itself into an actual presence.
“Well hello there dear. you’ve had an interesting day have you not?” A voice says in front of me.
My eyes snap open at the voice and I see a man, no a demon, in front of me.
He is dressed in a red and black outfit that looks like it’s from the 30’s with a cane that has a microphone attached to it.
He also has deer antlers attached to his head along with a monocle on his face.
He leans into the small microphone attached to his cane as he raises an eyebrow. “You know, I’m not that used to getting summoned by a young lady like you, but I must say your reasons for summoning me are certainly… interesting.”
He notices my stunned expression and lets out a hearty chuckle. “I take it this is your first time trying to summon a demon? And to think that you did it to get revenge on that Naomi girl. Very interesting indeed.”
I gain some of my courage back and speak up. “How did you know I wanted to get revenge on her?”
He smiles as he leans in closer to me, his voice a low hum as he answers. “I knew the moment you started the ritual. Those words of revenge are exactly the reason I answered your call. Revenge is one of my specialties, after all.”
I take in his features some more as he leans towards me and I feel my face flush. For a demon he’s not bad to look at.
My face flushes more as I process that thought. Something is definitely wrong with me to be thinking that.
He takes notice of the blush on my cheeks and raises an eyebrow curiously. However, he doesn’t speak up about it and instead continues to speak.
“And to think, all you wanted was to take revenge on dear little Naomi. What did you plan to do? Stab her?” I shrug and I glance away.
“I figured you’d just have a plan.” I mumble slightly embarrassed that I didn’t think this all the way through.
He nods as he looks me over momentarily. “Of course I have a plan. I’ve been doing this for quite some time now.”
He pauses for a moment. “So, are you ready to go and get your revenge? All you have to do is sit back and let me take care of the rest.”
I nod and his grin widens making the static feeling in the room intensify. “So it’s a deal then little deer?” He asks, extending out his hand to me.
I look down to his outstretched hand and feel myself hesitate despite wanting to take it.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that I’m actually making a deal with a demon. Like this is actually happening and I’m not just dreaming it.
On the other hand, he seems fairly well-mannered and he did promise to take care of the entire thing. Plus, that voice of his is quite hypnotic.
I grab his hand and shake it. “It’s a deal.” A laugh track starts to play from his microphone and a chill goes up my spine.
I look at him straight in the eyes before the room starts to spin and I feel myself blackout.
─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───
As I regain consciousness the first thing I notice is the blood on my hands and a static feeling in the air.
I hear a laugh track play from behind me and as I turn around I’m greeted with by the radio demon’s eyes.
“You did a wonderful job my little deer. Not the cleanest job but a wonderful job nonetheless.” He says while gesturing to Naomi’s lifeless body in front of my feet.
I realize what the blood on my hands means as I see Naomi’s lifeless body as I look down towards the ground. She appears to be lifeless and unmoving, not even seeming to breathe.
I start to take shallow breaths as my body shakes. “We need to…” I begin before taking a shaky breath. “We need to clean this up. Hide this-”
I don’t want to get caught. I don’t want anyone to find out I think as I am still shaking.
You can hear him chuckling softly in the background. “Relax my little deer, nobody will be finding this body anytime soon.”
He looks around and I can see his eyes shine as a thought comes to his mind. “Besides, we’ve got bigger plans to take care of now.”
“And those plans are?” I ask barely above a whisper. This causes his grin to widen.
“Why what I shall do with your soul of course.” He chuckles as I stare at him wide eyed.
“That’s exactly right my little deer. You summoned me and made a deal with me, and the moment I completed your little revenge the deal became sealed.”
He leans into his microphone as if he was addressing a crowded room of people. “The contract is signed, now all I need to do is collect my prize.”
My mind races on what he could mean by that. Is he going to kill me? Will he just take control of my body?
He chuckles as he reads the look on my face. “I know you’re thinking a million things right now. How about I get rid of that uncertainty for you and just get straight to the point.”
I gulp as I just continue to stare at him. “You’re an interesting one. So, I shall let you live out the rest of your human life.”
He pauses as more static fills the room. “However, the moment you die and come to Hell you are mine. Your soul is mine. And I will be able to control you like a pawn whenever I please.”
His voice shifts to more of a demonic tone as he finishes speaking. While I know I should be utterly terrified and live the rest of my life in unresting fear all I can think about is how I wouldn’t mind being a pawn to him.
I have a feeling this won’t be the last I see of him before I eventually end up in Hell.
His grin grows wider as he senses that I’m not feeling as frightened as most people usually are when confronting a demon.
Instead, it seems to him I’m enamored even. “I must say, my little deer, you aren’t like anything I’ve seen before.”
#fanfic#fanfiction#pre hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#alastor x you#alastor the radio demon#alastor imagine#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#alastor#x reader#x you#x y/n#reader imagine#reader insert#reader input#romance#tw murder#attempted murder#eventual romance
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another rec list for those of you seeking more audio drama for your ears!! this one is made up of audio dramas that made me want to make audio dramas, and which i reference in the show I make.
The White Vault still holds the title for the only show to ever make me yelp in terror. I fell asleep in the middle of an episode and woke up at the worst possible moment. This show has spectacular writing and performance and is definitely one for those people who find the vast expanse of nothingness at the poles of our planet equally fascinating and terrifying. This show has some queer rep but it's very quiet; everyone is too busy shitting their pants to talk much about their personal lives most of the time. There are five seasons, each with something unique to offer, and it reached it's spectacular conclusion earlier this year. It's available across platforms.
Limetown begins as a sort of fake true-crime documentary about the titular Limetown. If you like your horror with a side of conspiracy, this is the show for you. It's short at just two seasons, and fun fact: I accidentally listened to season two before I listened to season one and had a very wild time. I have since listened to it beginning to end and yes it did make more sense in order. I cannot recall whether it had any queer rep. It also had a facebook visual adaptation, but I have never watched it so I cannot comment on its quality. This show has been around for some time, but it's still a gem, and you can find it wherever you listen to podcasts.
Welcome to Night Vale, a true titan of the audio fiction space, Night Vale has had an influence on so many newer shows that you can feel its echoes everywhere. Queer at heart, and offering a soft, mundane sort of horror, for me what makes Night Vale special is the way that it highlights one of the most terrifying traits of the human race; our capacity to get used to pretty much anything and accept it as ordinary. After ten years, the show is still going, and has over two hundred episodes. You can listen beginning to where the story has reached so far, or take a more eclectic approach and dip in and out as you please. Both listening methods have something to offer. I've listened to Night Vale on and off since about six months after it originally started airing, and it's available in all the places you might expect to find it.
The Magnus Archives, another giant of the audio fiction space, much beloved by many listeners and inspiration for countless fanworks still despite the fact the show has now finished. The show begins as an anthology of horror stories told as reports of sinister happenings to the Magnus Institute, but quickly it becomes much more. The show is a shining example of what can be done with the framing device of a character sitting down and recording himself in semi-private. By the end of its run, the show accumulates a fair amount of queer representation, and all five seasons of the show are available across platforms, ending at the spectacular MAG 200.
I Am In Eskew. I love a story about a world just out of sight. This show has an abundance of subtle weird horror done right, shot through with more straight-forward horrors. It moves slowly, the horrors at hand growing and changing as you listen. There's a quiet calm to the delivery throughout this show which really emphasises the strangeness of the story. The folks who made this show went on to create the Silt Verses, which is another absolutely spectacular ride. It's a fun, unsettling time, and a complete story you can find wherever you listen to podcasts.
The ways these shows influenced the way I made @spiritboxradio are massive. I spent a lot of time thinking about what I loved about each of them and learning what I could about how each of them is put together. There are references to them all scattered through the show, but most frequently I end up making references to the Magnus Archives, mostly because I had severe TMA brainrot at the time of the show's conception in August 2020. It cannot be helped. If you end up tuning into the show, I shall answer you in advance: yes the Tim thing is deliberate, and so are the other the ones. Have fun reference spotting!!
#tma#the magnus archives#wtnv#welcome to night vale#the white vault#twv#i am in eskew#limetown#the silt verses#tsv#horror audio drama#audio drama#podcast#pod rec#podcast recommendations#recommendations#spirit box radio#sbr
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Hell Bent Spoilers!! Very many of them
Okay, so the characters! I am a character driven reader and Miss Bardugo always delivers on character-driven plots. I was initially disappointed with Hell Bent because I felt that the breakneck pace wasn't allowing room for the deepening of characters that I was expecting (I had definitely formed some expectations based on the trajectory of SoC and CK and how CK comes with more backstory and development for almost everyone). But I think that we did get more insight into our main cast--it just happened as part of The Horrors that were plaguing them. Not-Hellie and Not-Blake and the others were really clever ways to maintain the action but add some emotional torment and give us some insight into these characters' worst thoughts about themselves.
I was absolutely broken by Not-Hellie's haunting of Alex and her flashback to Babbit Rabbit. Alex wants to be a protector of innocents. She might scoff at that if you said it to her outright, but she has the tendency. She carries a righteous anger against people who prey on the weak and the societally vulnerable. It is her self-identification with Tara and her anger at how easily she was disposed of that leads her to investigate Tara's murder. The same righteous anger shows up when she defeats Belbalm and extracts the souls of her victims. So to see her wracked with guilt about all the innocent people who have died "because of her" destroyed me. We see that there's a part of her that believes that she is just like Belbalm: selfish, willing to leave a trail of innocents in her wake to survive. We also have further variations on the theme of Alex Is Not A Good Person; when Mercy learns about Alex's murderous past and her lack of regret she does not offer absolution. Golgarot wants to take her soul in exchange for Darlington's because unlike Darlington, she belongs in hell. The first time I cried in Hell Bent was this sequence: the Babbit Rabbit flashback followed by what initially looks like Alex offering up her soul because she, too, believes that she deserves this. She deserves it not because of her five kills at Ground Zero, but because of the one that she didn't kill. Because of Babbit Rabbit, because of Hellie, because of Darlington. Because she fails to protect the innocents, and in the wake of her failure they are doomed. I let you die. To save myself, I let you die. That is the danger of keeping company with survivors.
But that isn't what happens. Alex is not offering up her soul and she never planned to. Because that's the other key to Alex's character: And wasn't that the worst of it? she did. She did want to live and always had . . . I want to survive this world that keeps trying to destroy me. Alex is desperate, Alex is stubborn, Alex has lived most of her life subject to the power of evil men who try to manipulate her understanding of herself and her place in the world (Len, Eitan, Sandow...). Her power is her rejection of those narratives and her stubborn, stubborn survival. Instead of giving in to the guilt of those that she could not save, instead of accepting her place in hell, she offers Eitan's soul. She saves herself and her friends. There's something so deeply meaningful to me about Alex's persistence. That's really all I have to say about it.
I also meant to write about Dawes and Turner and Tripp and Michelle and Darlington, but Alex stole the show as she always does for me. I will say that Alex and Darlington's new dynamic is fantastic. Leigh really wasn't joking when she said slow burn, huh? We'll just have to subsist on Alex calling Darlington her gentleman demon for the next few years. I would also like to note that as soon as Dawes said that to descend into hell they would need a soldier, scholar, priest and prince I knew that Alex would be the soldier and Dawes the scholar.
#my dearest darlingest fucked up murder woman#hell bent#hell bent spoilers#alex stern#darlington#leigh bardugo
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[VIII - Strength] ; What makes them weak in the knees?
Dante:
In general, people who are able to enjoy the joy de vivre of everyday life, the ones that face difficulties head-on and are genuinely cheerful and warm have a special spot reserved in Dante’s heart. He himself is joyful most of the time and appreciates a person who is able to project this type of energy back at him. Dante’s life is often chaotic and unpredictable, so someone who has a zeal for adventure and is able to things in stride would be a dream come true. He often masks his inner thoughts and feelings, and he masks them well. When you push through that veil gently and insist on taking care of his wellbeing it touches him deeply. The next step is that he talks a serious talk with you. You’ve taken aback when you see this somber side to Dante, but you’re grateful at the same time. If Dante can be serious around you, it means you are important to him. Words hold bigger meaning to Dante than he realizes, so when his partner compliments him, swoons at his strength, or genuinely finds his jokes funny, Dante is over the moon. He shamelessly spurs on the flattery and preens with delight. Another thing is, that Dante is a talkative guy. When you listen to his rambles it actually surprises him since no one listens to him very much. Truth is Trish and Lady often poke fun at him or scoff him off. So he was often caught in these situations where he talks fast and long about the topic he was excited about, and then he caught the looks of people he talked to or see their lack of interest, and immediately shut up, ashamed (my ADHD folks out there knows). When a person listens to him, actually listens to him, and he can talk away without restraint, it makes him all soft. Speaking of soft, our man is a cuddler. No surprise here. Dante’s very physical towards people in general, and the closer you are to him, the more physical he gets. Naturally, he receives any kind of physical touch very well. Scratching his beard, kissing his cheek, patting his back appreciatively, hugs of all kinds, holding his hand, ruffling his hair, you name it. At the beginning of a relationship, Dante doesn’t let go of his partner once and always touches them in some way. Whether it be his bear hugs, affectionate butt taps, or scratching you with his scruff. This man’s a love machine.
Vergil:
If you haven’t noticed, Vergil was quite busy surviving, fighting insanity and corruption, striving to obtain absolute power, and suffering Dante’s jokes to think about romance. Any matter of kinship was foreign to him not so long ago. His pompous demeanor betrays the fact he deems himself an unsuitable partner for anybody. But you make it so easy for him to fall for you. Started chatting to him right away when sensing the awkwardness in the van where everyone sat in pensive silence. The only one who noticed the look in eyes of a person who desperately wanted to initiate a conversation but has no idea how. That was the first spark that pawed your way to a relationship. Soon enough, you were patiently explaining to him the peculiarities of the world around him, showing him around town instead of letting him be cooped up in his room. What really melted his heart is your sweetness and hopefulness. Being such a cynic who experienced only the worst the world has to offer, Vergil is a total sucker for someone who’s above all else optimistic and kind. Those few people who offer hope instead of the multitudes who offer excuses? Well, that melts his stone heart. Life can be cruel, but Vergil cherishes those who have the power to rise above that.
Nero:
Nero is a giver. He’s always trying to help everyone around him without asking for anything in return. No matter how much he’s angry at you, he will fight an entire horde of demons if it helps you. Or drive to the next city to get something you need. Or watch after your dog. He will cuss the entire time though. Nero is always surprised when the same amount of attentiveness is placed on him. Despite his selflessness, he’s not used to being treated the same. He often refuses any assistance, assuring everyone and himself he can handle anything, even when he does not. It’s difficult for Nero to ask for help, feeling like he has to constantly prove himself. So when you help him out it really means a lot to him, even if he won’t admit it. Including him in important and personal matters is a gesture that he likes to return in kind. Whenever you ask his opinion on something and make important choices based on his advice it means you respect him, and that gives Nero an enormous amount of gratification. Another big thing for Nero is your willingness to support him and stand by him in difficult times. Listening to him rant or sharing a somber silence, he feels your warmth whatever he goes through. If you go as far as defending this young devil, and stand up for him in face of prejudice and rejection, it touches something deep inside him. Something no one else ever touched before.
#Dante Sparda#vergil x reader#devil may cry#dmc imagines#dante x reader#Nero Sparda#Vergil Sparda#devil may cry vergil#dante devil may cry#nero x reader#devil may cry nero#character x reader
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Cyrus was wrong for his methods and for depriving people of choice, but was he really wrong about much else? Life is painful. Most days you’re unhappy pretty much every second you’re awake, trying to enjoy yourself is a waste of time because you feel just as bad the second it’s over, and anything that does make you numb for more than an hour hurts your health. Emotions are important to make sure we survive and care for our young, but is it worth it? If Cyrus offered everyone the choice to join his perfect world, I think a lot of people would take it.
this is why i genuinely connected with cyrus in many ways tbh, because i saw the worst of my depression reflected in a character with desperation i could understand. in those times, all you want is safety, you want things to just stop, and your emotions get so bad you think, in fact, it would be better to trade both happiness and pain away. and when you're grieved (as i believe cyrus is), it brings out this constant, awful anticipation where you're always waiting for the other shoe to drop. something terrible happened, and something terrible will happen again because now you've lost your sense of safety. it's wild how much that eats you up inside, and that's what i saw in cyrus - this guy is only in his 20s and he's just barely hanging on because he's been so badly hurt, he feels so alienated from his own emotions AND no one's ever been able to connect well with him (nor him connect with others) and like. OOF did i get that!!! at the end of the day, cyrus's motivation was literally just to see no more pain. he was done with all the hurt inflicted on both humans and pokemon, and i think you're right in saying many probably would actually see it his way because we've been hurt too, we've been in so much pain and so isolated that we understand this in a way some other people can't.
BUT i do just want to say i totally understand where you're coming from anon and i know life is hard, especially right now. my mental health has been suffering, i've been feeling my depression more and more, but i want you to know you're not alone in what you feel. honestly i'm so grateful we have characters like cyrus to connect with because it shows, through media, that someone else gets it - i've said over and over i'm a sucker for happy endings, which is why i'm so happy he got that in pokespe. cyrus has so much love in him (so much gratitude at being proven wrong!!! like!!!) and when it was recognized by shaymin, it hit me so hard i wanted to cry!! he gets to live, to take care of his team (his friends, really) and he gets the ending he actually deserved because there isn't truly evil in cyrus imo, just pain and desperation. so i want to hope we can be happy too, that life will get better, and i think that's absolutely true no matter how hard it can be to believe at times. i hope you can take good care of yourself anon <3
#SORRY if i got sappy but i know how you feel#that's why cyrus is one of my favorite characters like.#his whole internal struggle hits hard#and im really glad he gets development in extended media#bc he's a very interesting villain and its clear he could easily be redeemed#like it's hard to describe but im glad so many narratives connected to him acknowledge his pain#rather than demonizing him for that pain like so many other pieces of media seem to do with similar characters#cake answers#cyrus
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I had what I felt was a clever idea.
I was going to start this off by saying "alignment charts within the death of media literacy in the modern era despite unprecedented access to literature and literacy enabling tools have been a disaster for understanding character motivation", and then it hit me that what I thought was clever was just straight up a by-product of being raised during the GWB, post-9/11 horror show of western media.
I'm from a generation where the worst people in the fucking world, who don't blink at bombing civilians or killing as many innocent people as they can or butchering children swore up and down they were the good guys. That their cause was just, and that theirs was a divine fury mandated by god. That, in my personal perspective, the people screaming the loudest they're "the good guys" are actually the most blood thirsty people you can ever meet. Absolute fucking ghouls masquerading in human flesh.
I wouldn't know a self-proclaimed "good guy/hero" if it hit me over the head. Even the phrase garners swift distrust from me. I eye the person up, I gauge how dangerous they genuinely are.
Thus, it's utterly warped my impression of who a "good protagonist" is, and has forever altered my creative process.
I don't have heroes in my works.
I have inherently broken people. I have absolute, bumbling buffoons who fuck with things they don't understand. I have the most capable people be the most depressed, the most immovable because of their depression. Folks who, to them at least, feeling numb is better than feeling endangered.
I don't have heroes, but I have really, really great supporting cast members. I have empathetic people who will risk absolutely fucking everything (including their own lives) to uplift their friends. I have people who, rather than run when our lead snaps at them out of anger, pulls them closer. I have characters who for no other reason than earnestly believing every single person deserves happiness will cross the entire fucking universe to get back to that one person that needs them most.
I don't know if these people are "heroes", because I earnestly don't know what that looks like. I don't know if you could even place them on an alignment chart.
But in pondering all of this, I realized that the reason I write my leads and my supporting cast like this is because it's a mirror for what my life has felt like. Being broken and being saved by good people, regardless of how strong the adversarial forces against us may be.
Even in the dark, hope.
I still think alignment charts are whack for the reason I stated. But I think it's also important to do so by framing that alignment chart to our unique experiences. For me, that means someone that would lockpick the gates of heaven so they could see a loved one again. It means the strongest person in the room, the real hero, often won't be clad in chainmail or holding a massive sword. They're the person that offers to listen more than they speak.
It means always, always take the hand of that friend when they offer.
Your alignment chart might be different.
But, that's the fun part, ain't it?
Never knowing who the hero really is?
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The Marvels (2023)
Watched: 11/09/2023
Format: Alamo Drafthouse
Viewing: First
Director: Nia DaCosta
Marvel has been having some issues, of late, with quality and maintaining a fanbase. I'm not sure why having a fanbase for sci-fi/ fantasy stuff means eventually that the absolute worst people on Earth feel like their opinions should dictate what the rest of the planet sees and what constitutes a "good" Marvel, Star Wars or whatever movie. But I suppose it's the same reason that people think they get to tell other people they're the only *real* Americans.
I don't want to define the film Captain Marvel or TV show Ms. Marvel by the audience that manages to mix misogyny and racism into rocket fuel for social media, but I will say - in the event of this year's strike by SAG-AFTRA, it's been tough to get much in the way of promotion out there for The Marvels other than dropping trailers, and that's left a gap in the conversation those folks have filled. It's more likely we'll see the occasional hit-piece by a major industry publication looking for clicks than Disney doing anything worthwhile to actually promote the film on their own. We coulda really used the lead cast hitting Hot Ones and Good Morning America.
Look, I agree: Marvel has put out too much content since Endgame, and that's had a deleterious effect on the overall quality of the material. Even I have been asking "will this be necessary?" as I hear about each new Marvel thing still in the pipeline. And sometimes you're watching, say, Loki Season 2, and you're thinking "I literally do not care what happens here" because something like "oh noes, the timelines will all collapse" is both meaningless, up it's own ass of the story being about itself, and insanely old hat to us aging comic nerds who've seen timelines and multiverses collapse and expand over and over for our *entire lives*. And, yes, Superman will still get printed every month.
Movie superheroes still have to have an antagonist, and they still have to wind up in a big crescendo of a finale, but we've seen this dozens of times in the past fifteen years. You can polish it, put a new coat of paint on it, but eventually it's someone in a slugfest with their evil opposite who has the advantage on paper (but not the heart of a hero).
So what you have left is what you can do with characters.
And that brings us to The Marvels (2023), Marvel Studios' latest offering.
The movie has mediocre reviews and is tracking to open badly. I haven't read the reviews, because (a) I already had tickets and was going, and (b) I kinda wanted to write this before I saw what Chris Spectacles of the Akron Observer thought of the film.* And I didn't want this review to be me addressing the concerns of reviewers.
I saw it in a 2/3rds full theater on opening night, and with not a child in sight. I will say the following up top:
First - there's no post-post-credits sequence to wait for. Go home after the first couple of them. This is not a trick.
Second - Before watching this, yes, you will have to have seen Captain Marvel. You should see Ms. Marvel. You will want to just skip Secret Invasion, which this movie pretends didn't happen, and that's fine, because that show was quite bad and more confused the MCU than helped it along.
SPOILERS
The Marvels (2023) is not going to change the world. This is also not going to "save" Marvel Studios, if, indeed, Marvel Studios needs saving, or the *idea* of saving the studio that means anything at all.
What I'll argue the movie does is provide a fun time at the movies with characters that are a good hang for the movie's speedy, non-stop runtime. If Guardians of the Galaxy taught Marvel that what you need is a mix of action, comedy, space and family issues, this movie is absolutely a product of that line of thinking. The Marvels isn't trying to copy Guardians (despite the fact the villain is a version of Ronan who is a mean lady instead of a mean man), but clearly those items were on a whiteboard somewhere while this movie was getting sorted out.
The movie knows that the villain's plot is going to fail, and knows we, the audience, are just following the beats on that score. And so it does the unthinkable of late for Marvel: it uses the plot as an excuse to tell a three-sided story with three solid characters thrust together an inextricably linked, thereby creating a movie that's character driven. The problems it addresses are personal in nature as much, or more!, than the need to stop Kree Hammer Lady.**
We catch up with the MCU as Kamala Kahn has settled a bit into her role as teen-hero, Ms. Marvel. She's still very much a kid living with her family (Marvel understands when they've struck character gold). Meanwhile Carol is in deep space, living with Goose and part of a network of folks helping keep peace across the galaxy, one supposes. And, working aboard SABRE's orbital base, Monica Rambeau (I think last seen in WandaVision) is putting her powers to some use and being a scientist/ astronaut type.
But it seems since we checked in during the 1990's, the Kree had a civil war that somehow: (a) messed up their sun? (b) evaporated their oceans and (c) ruined their atmosphere, creating a permanent state of planet-wide nightfall. Not-Ronan has taken up the mantle and is trying to restore Hala, the Kree homeworld in a very Kree way - by murdering people. She's obtained the second Quantum Band (Kamala having the first one we'd seen - there are two) and she's using it to open worm holes to...
Look, the plot is the villainous plot from Spaceballs, and our villain is MegaMaid. There's really no way around it. It's not what *I* would have done as a writer, but Spaceballs was also 40 years ago, so... we may have to let this one go. What's important is that MegaMaid is targeting planets in which Carol Danvers has an emotional investment and stealing their water, air and sun, and that's personal and mean. But why? Well, thereby hangs a tale.
But, like I say, it kind of doesn't matter. She could be unleashing cooties on those planets. She exists so our heroes get together and figure out their personal stuff. And that's what the movie is about.
Monica has to figure out what it means that Carol didn't come back for Monica when Maria fell ill, both the why's and the impact. Kamala has a parasocial relationship with Carol that Carol feels she has to live up to, even as it inspires Kamala and Carol doesn't feel at all like that hero. But Kamala's hero-worship is kind of the unspoken opposite of how Monica has reacted to learning she has powers of her own. And Kamala and Monica are complete strangers, navigating knowing each other while also seeing each other's relationship with Carol. It's complicated stuff! You could have made a similar indie movie about a movie star, her old friend and a fan, and gotten much of the same effect.
But this one is in space, action-packed (I mean VERY action packed) and manages to balance the sincere moments with the incredibly silly moments with the pathos of inadvertently causing the self-immolation of Space Nazis. And, in my opinion, it all worked.
I liked the singing planet (but they did need to hold to the concept through the battle), I liked the kitten Flerkens and the absolute chaos of the evacuation scene. I liked Kamala's family dealing with the nonsense of superhero/ SABRE life. I liked the kooky three-way fights and the "we gotta synch up" montage. The fight sequences are very well choreographed and work well despite what absolutely should have been a lot of confusion for the audience - ironically, only the audience is in a position to get what's happening. And I very much liked that our heroes *tried* to reason with the mad despot once it was clear they had the upper-hand and offer a way out of this.
In general, I was already in the bag for Brie Larson's take on Carol, and it's interesting to see a version 30 years older and with a lot of new, self-inflicted baggage. Iman Vellani's Kamala Kahn is an absolute delight and can't wait to see her again. And Teyonah Parris is very pretty great as my first Captain Marvel, and with decades of baggage to sort through with Carol, the blip, super-powers and how to be a superhero, which, frankly, she doesn't want to be.
Complaints:
So - did the singing planet die? I have no idea what happened there. It would be nice to know. It seemed like everyone was going to die, and no one seems to care.
They basically borrowed the ending of All Star Superman, but didn't do it as well or with much emotional resonance, which is a real bummer. Now DC can't use it, and this didn't land as well as it could have for Carol. Felt like it needed a few more beats.
We gotta find more interesting ways to dress aliens. Bright robes are very 1990's ST:TNG and it keeps happening at Marvel
Space is boring in this movie. Marvel space was defined by James Gunn, and it is beautiful. Show that candy colored majesty, not ST:TNG white stars (the new Trek knows this). There's definitely some more creative design they could have done, but maybe less is more if Quantumania was any indicator
Carol sure is good at astro-navigation and everything is apparently cosmically nextdoor in the MCU
I don't understand how the heroes became disentangled
Kamala uses her powers without her bangle, and I didn't know that was a thing
Spoilery Spoilers
It was fun seeing Valkyrie again, and good use of the character in her current role. Also, sure felt like she and Carol knew each other pretty intimately... Close to making that happen as Marvel will get, I guess
I don't know who Park Seo-joon is, but he was swoony. I guess he's a big star? Probably make the kids very happy
The first post credits scene was met with audible joy from the audience, so here's hoping that works.
The second post credits scene received an involuntary verbal response from me and a few others in the theater. I like where they're going with this. X-Men will not work in the MCU, but as close-universe neighbors, seems like a fine idea. Also, thank goodness that isn't the last we'll see of Lashana Lynch
I was led to believe Richard Ryder/ Nova would appear, he does not.
(late edit: this movie has the single greatest needle drop in Marvel history)
I don't think this one landed for me exactly as hard as the origins of either Ms. or Captain Marvel, but if the requirement was "I would like to spend time with these people, and see them together in a fun way" this managed that. It feels unnecessary only in that it only barely strives to move a universe of stories forward and is, instead, self-contained and about these three people and their family/ friends. It is very necessary as a "we should have solo stories that advance the characters but not carry the universe forward in obvious and awkward ways" sort of way.
Would I watch four more of these? Yes.
And thank god they got Nick Fury into a place where it's not a drag to have him around.
Look, I don't know what you people want out of Marvel, but I want something fun I can rewatch without feeling like I'm doing homework. I like a good adventure and fight scenes and jokes and characters to enjoy. I suppose I'll check out some reviews, and I think from my laundry list of nits to pick, it's clear I'm not giving this a 5/5, but when all you hear is "underperforming" and "mediocre reviews" in a world with ten movies about Vin Diesel driving cars fast and the general shit people get enthusiastic for, I won't even pretend to know what people consider a win.
*I swear to god, if I see one more person thinking they've got the edgy take on Marvel by saying "I don't consider Marvel movies to be *cinema*... Dude, we get it. You're very special and very smart and you can get your "I'm a very smart person on the internet" cookie on your way out the @#$%ing door
**no one is beholden to remember made-up alien names for longer than the name pass by in the credits
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I acknowledge this is a 110% Gen-X'er / Certified Old Person thing to say, but I wonder how younger generations will look back on the nostalgia of their childhoods.
I was just reading an article about Dana Hill, whose birthday is today, and some of her early work (which involved commercials and guest spots on TV shows throughout the 80s, before she eventually landed a role in one of the National Lampoon movies.
When I think back on the (especially early- to mid-) 80s, it has a very specific vibe. I was born in '76, so I don't have any real appreciable recall of even the late 70s, but up until 1983-1984, the 70s and 80s were very much a cultural, visual mish-mash of each other. It wasn't until everything started to get brightly plastic-colored and Miami pastel in 1985 or so that the 80s really broke out into what most people mean when they say "the 80s."
The late 70s and early 80s was all beige, brown, olive green, burnt orange, nicotine yellow. There was so much fucking corduroy it was a little obscene.
I spent most summers with my grandparents, and they were long days of reading book after book after book, playing in creeks, walking to the general store to pick up this or that for my grandmother (and a Matchbox car for myself). Long road trips to Lancaster or "down the shore" without seatbelts, playing with some plastic novelty picked up in a souvenir shop in the back seat of my grandfather's giant boat of a car. Sticking to the vinyl in the blistering, baking heat. Chocolate water ice. Flip-flopping noisily through the absolutely arctic air of the grocery store with my grandmother.
I don't say any of this to suggest it was better. It was just very very very different. And as mundane as those things are, they are what bring back the strongest nostalgia, the most biting and needle-sharp memories for me. But in large part because I was completely present for every single moment (excluding those I spent cross-legged on the low-pile green carpet, watching cartoons from like 6 inches away.)
What memories are today's kids going to have of being a kid? And I know it sounds like I'm saying it in a KID'S TODAY! kind of way, but I legitimately mean it. Every kid I see out in the wild has a phone of their own in their hands, or are begging to use their parents' phone, and they're watching videos or playing games or texting or facetiming.
I am not a parent. Don't want to be and have never wanted to be a parent. I would be fucking awful at it. So seeing parents shove any kind of phone or tablet into a kid's hand to occupy them, like... I get it. I would be the world's worst mother just for five minutes of sweet, sweet silence, so it's not (intentionally) a critique.
I just wonder what they'll remember. Will it be lots of books and experiences and playing in the neighborhood park until the sun goes down, or is it going to be, "Remember that summer I spent like twelve hours a day watching YouTube and then playing Minecraft?" And like... how wild is that?
What I will say, in defense of parents now, is that the ones on my block (we live on a cul de sac, which has honestly created a really nice little enclosed universe of communal child-watching / child-minding) are super involved and invested. It's kind of awesome to see.
One parent sets up a slip'n'slide and the whole damned cul de sac is out, plus kids from the ones on either side of us. Somebody decides, fuck it, and rents a bounce house. The rest of us block the street off with our cars so it's safe for them. Somebody is always bringing out toys or distractions, or offering to be den-mother on a walk down the street to get ice cream. It's actuallly great see.
But I don't know if that's everywhere. I hope it is. I hope kids are still out there doing real stuff, because -- with irony, sitting here and typing this on my stupid computer -- the Internet has become fucking trash.
I'm old, and I already have my foundational experiences stashed in my saddlebags. I just wonder what they'll end up carrying around.
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Choujinki Metalder is a very good show.
It’s outstanding for the time in just how much it gets right; using a vague notion of a Kikaider reboot as a springboard, what you end up with is a show that’s not afraid to deviate wildly from that when it needs to while still keeping to the core Sad Robot storytelling that made that original so great. While Ryuseii wasn’t going through leaps of character development every episode and he’s often played with the same gait as most other Toku protagonists of his time, there is a charm to how he begins to interact with the world around him and slowly influences the lives of everyone he touches. Like Kikaider it’s really good, classic robot-that-reminds-us-of-our-humanity stuff.
What I found myself interested in the show above all though was undoubtedly the villains. Pulling as few punches with its war merchant premise as it can given the target audience to begin with, all the darker elements give way to a set-up of competition within the villainous ranks to drive all sorts of character drama and desperate rivalries. There’s such a great variety of stories told between characters like Bigwayne, BenK, Rhapsody and Hedogross and you often find yourself rooting for them more than the heroes. The very idea of having almost all the MOTW suits in the show from the first episode and around each other every episode to bicker and compete is alone an amazing, memorable visual to the show and then they go forward and use it so well!
It’s... it’s a show that really rewards for watching every episode. It’s not one where you’re looking for a specific core plot as much as you’re wanting to see more of these characters and drama. Metalder presents a damn good concept and it demands to make good on it every episode!
It’s a show about all sorts of people lost in the tangled web of a man whose pursuit of money and power ruins the world in the worst way possible; and how those different people navigate it. Some are looking to find their way in the world for the first time; some just need to be shown the beauty of nature; some envelop themselves gleefully in that violence altogether; some just want to live the life that was taken from them; some make what small peace they can; some compromise and fight for scraps.
Metalder is a fantastic show, and one I could wholeheartedly recommend to anyone interested in a bit of old Tokusatsu and seeing some of the best it has to offer. I can absolutely guarantee you’ll find at least one or two stories that’ll resonate with you, and I’m glad I gave it a chance
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ANDOR POST
This show has been so good and I’ve enjoyed it so much that part of me is actually mad about it, purely because it proves that Disney could have been giving us this level of quality THE WHOLE TIME and they DIDN’T. Which I realize is not a wholly rational complaint because it has different directors, writers, production teams, etc. and Disney/Lucasfilm isn’t a monolith no matter how much we imagine it to be. No franchise is uniformly consistent in quality and style. But the standard of the visuals and writing and just overall execution is so much higher than the other Disney+ series—NOT TO MENTION some of the movies—that I can’t help but feel cheated. Like they’ve been gorging us on subpar fast food and then wheel out a five-star meal and it’s like whoah whoah whoah hold on, you let us eat shit and made us think it was the best you had to offer while you were cooking THAT?
Of course nothing is ~flawless~ and I’m very excitable when it comes to impressive production design and cinematography. But the production design in particular has blown my mind!!! The sets and locations, the props, the costumes, getting to see more of these lived-in corners of the universe, and all of it filmed in a way that’s genuinely beautiful and cinematic—THAT’S what I want, not just from Star Wars tv shows but Star Wars in general! WORLDBUILDING!!!!!! YEAH!!!
It gives me a similar feeling to TLJ in that it uses the existing universe in ways that feel fresh simply by virtue of having a strong visual aesthetic and solid thematic viewpoint. It may still be a prequel but it adds to and shades in details and does its own thing in ways that actually seem new and expansive. It really feels like going into “a larger world” where the other shows and some of the movies’ constant callbacks and repetition have felt reductive and constricting. One of the things that still makes me so sad about TROS is that it felt like the world got smaller, in the ways it presented its story and the ways it concluded, and that is such a horrible place for Star Wars to be. It should be BIG! Mythically, emotionally, visually, hypothetically. It’s a galaxxyyyyyy, I want it to feel that way!
It is very funny to think about how I was excited for a Cassian show when they first announced it because I loved Cassian in Rogue One, but what I was imagining was more like “oh boy we’ll get to see Cassian and K2 becoming buddies yay” and not like “the grim realities of fomenting rebellion.” But I LOVE IT. It’s like a wholly different genre, and while I wouldn’t necessarily want all SW to be this serious because I do watch most of it with the mind of a child, I’m excited to get something like this as a facet of the overall franchise.
It’s concerning that I’ve seen comments to the effect of “nobody’s talking about this show, you’re all sleeping on how good it is” (I don’t know, I’ve ignored discourse about it and enjoyed it in isolation because I’m too irritable about fandom nowadays, and I cannot gauge the popularity of anything on the internet—I’m on tumblr where people still talk about Supernatural, I have no frame of reference). Because if it genuinely isn’t popular then Disney is absolutely gonna learn the wrong lesson and think nobody wants good quality Star Wars and decide crowd-pleasing garbage for an unpleasable crowd is the way to go. (that’s how we got TROS!!!!!!!!) I’m already bummed that the initial plans for a five-season show got cut down to two. Despite being a firm believer in quality over quantity, good quality never fails to make me want more. It’s the worst. :(
My only real complaint is that I wish there were more aliens. It’s mostly been a whole lot of humans and that’s the main thing that I’m iffy on. I saw a comment from Tony Gilroy that basically said they made it human-centric on purpose so that it feels grounded and relatable, which I get, it does make it feel more relevant to our real world. But I can’t see enough of an in-universe justification for it since this is supposed to be a galaxy-wide struggle, and one of the major things that separates the Rebellion from the Empire is the inclusion of other species.
It is absolutely WILD to me how much Maarva’s send-off was beat-for-beat something that would have worked for Leia. Off-screen death, a goodbye message to her son to affirm her love for him and alleviate his regret and encourage him to move forward and become who he should be, a rousing message as a respected and beloved leader to the masses spurring them to fight against the evil that has been allowed to fester through inaction. A HOLOGRAM CARRYING A MESSAGE OF THE REBELLION, I mean, COME ON. And it was so resonant, it worked so well! Imagine if Leia’s death had been this meaningful!!!! I know I’m too fixated on connecting unrelated things back to the Organa-Solo Massacre of 2K19 and that my mind immediately leapt there because it’s always there, but the counterpoint to TROS is so stark it’s genuinely impossible to ignore. HE WILL BE AN UNSTOPPABLE FORCE FOR GOOD. THERE IS A WOUND THAT WON’T HEAL AT THE CENTER OF THE GALAXY. I’m gonna fuckin lose it
And I keep thinking how this show is so good at feeling truly tense and dark but also legitimately hopeful. It earns an emotional response because it all feels like it matters to the characters and the universe. The awful things that happen MATTER and are integral to moving forward. A dead character becomes a literal building block!!!!!! Symbolizing everyone in this story as simultaneously foundations for the future and makeshift blunt instruments in a fight!!!! Even while Cassian became a cog in a much larger machine too big to even perceive, constructing the building blocks of his own demise!!!!!!!!!!!! It feels so purposefully aimed toward telling a story with cohesive theming and messaging, not just throwing easter eggs at a wall.
It’s done such a good job of conveying scale and making the universe seem populated and alive, and I think the use of actual locations subliminally makes it feel like a real world in a way that the Volume and totally CG sets just don’t do. There is something oddly restrictive about cheap-looking visuals and obvious artificiality that makes a story look and feel small. There is so much in the other Disney+ series and even TROS that looks like a soundstage with bad lighting and it just yanks me right out of what’s supposed to be happening. Whereas everything in this show conveys a sense that it EXISTS and life is happening even beyond the edges of the frame. In any case, Rogue One is next to TLJ as the prettiest of the new era of movies, and I’m thrilled they put so much effort into maintaining its visual aesthetic.
It’s gotten to a point with Disney Star Wars that I recoil in disgust from the way fanservice is incorporated (or, you know, what they think fanservice is—the lowest common denominator “I understood that reference” shitty callbacks and cameos), and the complete lack of anything blatant like that in this show has been AMAZING. The post-credits stinger is the only part that got close to that type of thing and even that was effective because a) I think most people guessed they were building Death Star parts so it’s nice to confirm it, and b) I LOVE that perspective shift of being so entrenched in a ground-level story that then zooms way out to show a glimpse of the macro scale that is imperceptible to the people within the machine. You’ve been watching all these tiny moving parts adding up and working together and building toward something, only to see how truly small they are and how much of an uphill battle they have to match this inconceivably massive system they’re working against. It’s such a great gutpunch that I think it transcends the stupid “teehee hey nerds look it’s the Death Star like in the movie.”
What I loved about Rogue One and its depiction of the Rebellion was how much it emphasized the smallest actions of the individual as being important to the whole. The final relay race with the Death Star plans and how tenuous their success is; the entire climax of the film giving each character a linchpin moment where if they weren’t there, everything would have failed. It showed what a delicate chain reaction it was to ultimately get to Luke firing those torpedoes into the exhaust port. And now on Andor with its ensemble, once again there’s this great sense of all these small parts that are integral to the bigger picture that they’re a part of, and approaching something inevitable but doing so in a way that still feels precarious and uncertain.
Ironically without a Jedi storyline the concept of Empire vs. Rebellion = Sith vs. Jedi stands out even more prominently than in the stories where both aspects of the war are present. The conflict here is structured with such weight on fighting against darkness that it becomes glaringly obvious to extrapolate it into “JUST LIKE THE FORCE!!!” Of course Luthen’s speech brought this to the foreground, but Nemik and Maarva’s speeches really drove the point home. The light side and the dark side have obviously always been a metaphor made literal, but in a story that’s more centered on humanism than spiritualism it’s interesting that those concepts from the more fantastical side of things are still right there in the language, hidden in plain sight—like the Rebellion, like Luthen in the crowd passing unseen by the people who are hunting for him, like the shape of the Imperial insignia subtly repeating everywhere: all of it is apparent if you just know what to look for. “Oppression is the mask of fear.” Like. LITERALLY. THE MASK. OF FEAR. There is no Vader in this story and yet Vader is in this story. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. This narrative is haunted!!!!!!!
Miscellany:
There wasn’t much spaceship stuff but the little we got was SO GOOD. The escape in The Eye and the visuals of the meteor shower were amazing, it was so stressful but totally thrilling at the same time. And of course Luthen running from the cops HOOHOHHOHOHO GOOD SHIT. Rogue One has THEEEE best space battle so getting to see that practical model-like lighting again is so cool, and it was just FUN fun in a little more of a traditional Star Wars way. Spinning! That’s a good trick! Also I got a kick out of Luthen’s phony “hi lol I’m just a regular guy! lol! sorry officer!” voice. Big Han “we’re all fine here :)” vibes
Something I’m delighted to now be able to say about Star Wars is that I love Mon Mothma’s lesbian cousin. :) The reveal that Vel is related to Mon gobsmacked me, I enjoyed the way they held that off for so long so your impression of Vel kept changing. “So she’s a grumpy gay freedom fighter. Oh she wears fancy clothes too? Oh her family is rich? OH SHE’S RELATED TO MON MOTHMA?!??” A wild ride!
BEEEEEEEEE new best droid friend!!!! Has a stutter, takes a lot of effort to do anything, has to spend huge amounts of time recharging at home: most relatable droid of all time??? LOOK AT IT IT’S GOT ANXIETY
😍 Brasso 😍
TV news!!!!
SPACE FOODS!!!!!!
The living spaces oh my god I’m so excited. I know the Karns’ apartment is supposed to be kind of depressing but the modular design and ‘70s retrofuturistic accessories are SO GOOD. Syril’s sad little room with his action figures. Maarva’s house and her plants!!!!!!! Mon’s beautiful gilded cage of an apartment, aahhhhhhhh. By nature of being an adventure story there isn’t usually downtime in Star Wars to spend in homes or bedrooms, but it’s something I’m always wishing for so I’m particularly delighted that a longer-form series has finally allowed us to see more of those everyday details. SPACE HGTV
MONNNN MOTHMAAAAAAA. She’s the best and I am just so pumped that we’re finally getting more of her. It is, however, hilarious to think about her hair and wardrobe downgrade once she’s fully with the Rebellion.
The score has been great—between this and Mando and the final run of Clone Wars it’s awesome that the music is really getting outside the box in terms of what Star Wars can sound like. Synths!!!
Cassian with the sky kyber... matching crystal necklaces with Jyn........ ;____;
Those blue pelicans on Niamos!!!!! CREATURES
Andy Serkis was excellent but it was pretty bizarrely funny to hear Snoke’s voice making a good guy speech instead of a bad guy speech
“The first spark of the fire,” Canto Bight name drop... TLJ relevance for the sophisticated palate 🥂
One thing about Cassian Andor is that he’s always gonna have a shitty time at the beach
UGH I CAN’T BELIEVE WE HAVE TO WAIT SO LONG FOR SEASON 2. I hope it maintains quality and I hope it doesn’t feel rushed with how they’re planning on covering the time period. Since they’re starting production now I think it’s unlikely that they’ll suddenly change course and give us an extra season, but... I really wish they would at least add one more season on there... but then even if they could do that it just makes it less likely that they would be able to keep up the quality and budget. I guess we’ve just gotta savor what we get. ;___;
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🔱 Om Namo Bhagavathe Sri ArunachalaRamanaya 🔱
Photo by Guy Gonyea
🕉️
The Paramount Importance of Self Attention, by Sri Sadhu Om, As recorded by Michael James
Part Three - Mountain Path: April-June 2012 - Excerpt
Note of 29th December 1977
🕉️
Sadhu Om (in reply to my question whether he was doing any sādhanā in the years before he came to Bhagavan):
I was longing for grace and always thinking of God. That is sādhanā enough!
Some people say that the light seen at the time of Bhagavan's passing was him returning to Skandaloka [the world of Skanda, the younger son of Lord Siva]. First they try to limit him as a body, and then they try to limit him as a light. Their minds are so bound up in limitations that they have to limit even the illimitable. Bhagavan always said:
'Do not think this body is me. I am shining in each one of you as 'I'. Attend only to that'.
How often and for how many lives have we fooled ourselves thinking that our social service is selfless? We did it only for our own self-satisfaction or glory. It is natural for each one of us to love ourself. We are all naturally selfish, so we should first find out what is self. When we knοw ourself as we really are, we will experience everything as not other than ourself, and thus our selfishness will then be the highest virtue. Only a jñāni knows how to be truly selfish, because without knowing self we cannot knοw what real (unlimited) selfishness is.
In the path of surrender saints sing, 'Send me to heaven or hell, but never let me forget you', as if heaven and hell really exist. Their prayer only shows their total love for God alone. They teach us the right attitude, but they know that heaven and hell have no real existence. All these dualities — heaven and hell, good and bad, God and individual — exist only in the mind. So ultimately we must learn to make this mind subside.
When I first came to Bhagavan and heard him repeating constantly that everyone must eventually come to the path of self-enquiry, I wondered whether he was being partial to his own teaching, but I soon understood why he insisted that this is so. The final goal is only oneness, and to experience oneness our mind must subside, which will happen entirely only when we attend to nothing other than ourself.
So long as we attend to anything other than ourself, our mind cannot subside, because attention to other things sustains it, since that which experiences otherness is only this mind. When the mind subsides completely, only self-attention remains, and self-attention alone is the state of absolute oneness. Bhagavan used to repeat this teaching every day, maybe ten or twenty times, but still we didn't change. He didn't change his teaching either, because to him this truth was so clear.
The basic mistake we all make is to take a body to be 'I'. This deeply entrenched feeling 'I am this body called so-and-so' is the root of all our trouble. If this tape-recorder is not working, we must attend to it and not to other things, because then only will we be able to repair it. Likewise, to rectify this mistaken identity, 'I am so-and-so', we must attend to it in order to knοw what it really is: what or who am I?
Only when we thus investigate ourself will the false adjunct 'so-and-so' drop off, and what will then remain is only the reality, 'I am'. 'I am so-and-so' is the naivedyam [the food to be offered to God] [1], and when Bhagavan has consumed the adjunct 'so-and-so', what remains is only 'I am', which is his prasadam [the purified remnant of God's food, which is shared among devotees as a token of his grace].
'I am' alone really exists, so it is the true form of God and guru. To treat and cherish this filthy body as 'I' is therefore the worst kind of idol-worship. If we give up this idol-worship by knowing the truth of ourself, then we can worship anything as God, because we will know that nothing is other than him, our real self.
_________
[1] Refer to Guru Vachaka Kovai, V.486
The flame of Bhagavan burns timelessly.
Photo by Guy Gonyea
#Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi#the paramount importance of self-attention#Sadhu Om#Michael James#self-attention#self-attentiveness#self-surrender#surrender#detachment#'I-am-the-body'-idea#self-investigation#self-enquiry#who am i?#oneness#union with God or the reality#naivedyam food offered to God#gvk v.486
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One of the worst days in racing Wolff says Mercedes need to be radical after Bahrain reality check
Toto Wolff has offered a blunt evaluation of Mercedes’ performance across the Bahrain Grand Prix weekend, admitting that early pace-setters Red Bull are “on a different planet”.
Mercedes entered 2023 aiming to right the wrongs of the W13 with their revised W14 – albeit sticking to the ‘zero sidepod’ concept – but found themselves behind Red Bull, Ferrari and Aston Martin in the pecking order at the season opener.
READ MORE: ‘We’re the fourth fastest team now’ – Hamilton offers honest Mercedes assessment as he admits the team are ‘going backwards’
With Lewis Hamilton and George Russell coming home fifth and seventh in Sakhir, almost a minute away from race winner Max Verstappen and adrift of the third-placed Aston Martin of Fernando Alonso, Mercedes boss Wolff was left to ponder where his team goes from here.
“Well, one of the worst days in racing – really not good at all. We’re just lacking pace front, right and centre. That’s the reflection of the tests. The Aston Martin is very fast, they deserve that, and Red Bull is just on a different planet,” Wolff told Sky Sports F1.
Given the dominant nature of Red Bull’s one-two result, Wolff added: “I think that is what hurts, because they are so far ahead. It reminds me of our best years where we would just put a second [per lap] on everybody else.
“That is the benchmark, but we need to put one step after the other to just come back, and we can do that – absolutely we can.”
When asked about Mercedes’ development plan, and whether it is simply a case of waiting for a rumoured update at the sixth round of the season in Imola, Wolff added: “No, I think it needs to be much more radical – much more radical in the steps than just hoping for a three-tenths upgrade.”
READ MORE: Mercedes have been taken ‘back to reality’ says Russell after P7 finish in Bahrain
One positive Wolff took from the 2023 opener, though, was Hamilton’s post-race radio message to boost spirits in the Mercedes camp, with the seven-time world champion stating that “I believe in you all” as the squad look to make up ground.
“It shows the leadership. There must be a lot of suffering in there, because the car is just so unstable, but he’s fantastic. He’s been a massive performance contributor, not only in the car,” said Wolff, before the pair embraced in the Mercedes garage.
Mercedes left Bahrain sitting third in the constructors’ standings, behind Red Bull and Aston Martin, but ahead of Ferrari following Charles Leclerc’s retirement from a podium position.
via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com
#F1#‘One of the worst days in racing’ – Wolff says Mercedes need to be ‘radical’ after Bahrain reality check#Formula 1
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I am staggered by how completely so much of the left has blown this moment, both in lining up with the overtly imperialist authoritarian whose self-proclaimed fascists architected this war, and in missing the raw political opportunity offered them on a goddamn. silver. platter.
I mean... all they had to do was look at the reactionary authoritarian whose regime extinguished democratic elections, routinely jails or assassinates political opponents, legalised domestic abuse (YES REALLY), REALLY hates the queers, and who launched an explicit war of conquest and genocide against a small neighbour whose territorial integrity they guaranteed in exchange for surrendering their nukes, and NOT go, "oh man, he's definitely our guy!"
IT'S NOT A HARD CALL.
But they blew it!
There are leftists who didn't blow it. I'm QTing one who absolutely didn't! I hope they're the future of the US left, because WE NEED ONE FOR REALS KIDS. But NOT the tankie clowncar making most of the noise.
At least they're cleanly sorting themselves apart.
Seriously this is a great guide for the future. "Were they FOR or AGAINST the extermination of Ukrainians?"
Very simple test! Very straightforward answers! Really, really rare in politics, too. Convenient.
And staggeringly appalling.
Alexander references '56; I can definitely see that. But to me, this is worse. This is '39-40, the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact and the would-be partition of P/o/l/a/n/d/ Ukraine.
Putin has rehabilitated Stalin and wants to restore his empire. You're either for that or you're not.
And before you accuse me of trying to turn this into a low-resolution rerun of World War II, I strongly advise you go look at what Putin has been saying, in his own goddamn words.
Because that's what he wants it to be, domestically, and is not afraid to say so. Only he's the one quoting Hitler without irony, and it's his architect of policy who went around saying the only thing wrong with Nazi Fascism is that it was Germans doing it, and not Russians.
And they picked this guy as their hero.
Christ.
Just imagine if they hadn't been this fucking stupid. This fucking dumb. Oh my god the opportunity here.
Being actually anti-imperialist, loud and in front, actually opposing an actual forthright war of conquest by a country which explicitly wants to restore an empire they lost and exterminate a culture... with EVERYONE EXCEPT OUR HOMEGROWN FASCISTS AGREEING WITH YOU.
For the first time in their political lives, everyone except our own fascists actually might want to hear what else they had to say.
The opportunities lost. My gods. The opportunities lost.
But now, no, they're the tankie magat wanna-bes in bed with Putin and spouting nonsense to support imperial religious wars against queers, women, and self-determination, and for bonus points, you can be damn sure nobody's gonna give up their nukes ever again after this.
I've said more times than I can count that the American left is in love with failure. Not all of it, but a lot of it. Success is anathema to so many of them.
This also shows up in condemning imperfect successes and flat-out blunt refusal to celebrate ANY wins of ANY kind.
This opportunity is SO clear and SO obvious I have a hard time seeing missing it as anything less than a combination of puritanical dogmatism ("the US / west is ALWAYS the worst actor") and out-and-out self-sabotage.
These last couple of years have kinda driven it home to me. "In love with failure" started as a quip, turned into a hypothesis, and as far as I'm concerned, it's now a pretty robust theory.
They're in love with failure, because successes are always imperfect and incomplete and therefore not successes and celebrating them is selling out.
But failure - oh, sweet failure - shows purity was retained.
And so, they cannot let it go.
And that... that is one hell of a political pathology.
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Gta san andreas mod download android
The south has always been portrayed as a region that didn’t have “lyricists” or “conscious” sounding artists for many years. “Again I ask heaven was hell or vice versa/would you start doin’ evil in order to nurture” -Pastor Troy Yet Pastor Troy, a southern rapper, questions everything from the beginning of his long verse on this classic record. As we got older we were able to develop our own beliefs based on life experiences, world events, and many other things (religion is always a circus freak show to talk about between my brother and my mom at Thanksgiving). It wasn’t necessarily the notion of us questioning if it was the right thing to believe in, moreso the demand of going so many times that we opted not to attend once we were able to make decisions for ourselves. My brother and I were in church three times a week while living with my mom. Any sort of a challenge is looked at as disrespectful rather than discussion on why someone’s belief system is like this. What if heaven is really hell? Could you imagine believing one thing for your entire life that’s supposed to be good, only to end up being lied to and it being the worst fate you could imagine for the after life? We’re brought up to believe what we’re taught at young ages are absolutely right but aren’t taught to question them. “What if heaven was hell and vice versa? If I told you go to hell would you tell I cursed ya?” PT Cruiser begins the Carl Mo produced record, offering a thought provoking question.
The Atlanta, GA rapper didn’t garner much commercial success during his career but ‘Vice Versa’ will go down as his Mona Lisa. Unless you’re a Hip-Hop enthusiast or a fan of southern Hip-Hop you may have never heard of Pastor Troy. ‘Vice Versa’ is a record that is criminally slept on.
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Part 17
a/n: tbh, this is the longest chapter so far but idek if it makes sense lol it jumps from having an actual plot to Yoongi humping mc lol oh well
Warning: 18+
________________________________
To my brothers and my little one, my newfound pack,
By the time you find this, I’ll be long gone. I don’t know how long it will take for you to wake up again but I don’t have much time to wait. It’s been three days now and my time is up. Nothing wakes you. I’m just grateful that you’re all still breathing. It looks like you’re sleeping. The absolute fear, the excruciating pain I felt when I watched you fall one by one are things I would never want to experience again, would not wish it on my worst enemies. The thought of losing you forever, all of you at the same time, just knocks the breath out of me. And knowing that it’s partly my fault, my flaw as a leader, is like a knife that has been twisted through my heart. I took too long to find a way to keep you all safe. I failed you.
I’m sure you can deduce why this is here. I leave you with this map. Yoongi-hyung, you were wrong (I really wanted to say this to your face) It’s not really a house but I guess you knew that now. It’s a 20 feet underground bunker, but I doubt he built everything. This place dates back to World War II but it has been updated and maintained recently as you can see on this CAD. And baby, I hate to say this, but you’re also wrong. It’s not a blueprint or a house plan. Just an ink blotch on a CCTV system design, a CAD to mark out all the cameras that have been planted throughout the bunker. Cameras and their LINES OF SIGHT. I have faith that I don’t need to explain how to use it. You’ll know how when you study it. My only advice is: commit this to memory and then burn it. Destroy any proof that you’re gaining moves on him or else…I don’t dare to think what will come next.
You see, that electrocution was a warning and as much as you were the victims, his true target was me. He wanted to scare me, show me what he’s capable of. He knows how to manipulate me and he was successful once before; when he threatened me with your lives to keep me quiet and to keep you away from any escapes. It worked because I was too late to warn you. You are all my weakness. My desire to protect is now my Achilles heel. So that’s why I’m leaving. To keep you safe. It’s the only way. I hope you forgive me and won’t hold it against me the next time we see each other. IF we see each other again, that is.
Yoongi-hyung, I trust that you will take over as pack beta. I wish I had taken your advice so I hope you lead differently from me. I’m sure Jin-hyung will support you. So will the rest. Trust in each other, have faith in each other, lean on each other. I couldn’t do that because I was too blinded by my own fears. Seven is a lucky number, our number so I’m putting all my bets on you seven to pull this off. To my little one, trust your gut, your instinct, your omega. As much as we fight against them, the animal part in us has a keener sense. Listen to it. It's the one gift he unwittingly gave us.
Hoseokie, sorry for the bump on your head. It’s tough to move six people into one place. To my baby, I couldn’t help but to steal you away for one last private moment with you. I can’t apologise enough for the hurt I caused you. As I held you in my arms willing for you to wake up before I go, I’m glad your pretty little face is the last thing I see. You’re so small, so fragile I wish I had been a better protector. But I leave you with my six brothers, the safest place I have to offer.
Teamwork makes the dream work, right? Get the hell out of this hellhole.
Your leader, signing off,
Namjoon.
p/s: DON’T TRY TO FIND ME
Yoongi’s eyes run over the last line multiple times as if he’s waiting for the letters to rearrange themselves to make a different, more acceptable message.
He watches you wearily as you run out of the bathroom only to fall into Jimin’s waiting arms. Hoseok has turned away too, leaning over the sink as if he’s going to be sick. Taehyung is staring blankly at the kitchen paper the letter had been squeezed into, Namjoon’s handwriting getting smaller and smaller as it reached the bottom, trying to utilise as much space as possible until the words are all bunched up together, some even running up and down haphazardly. Yoongi can feel his heart beating in his chest and with all the turmoil running through his head, he’s actually surprised that it’s not going any faster than usual.
He reads it again, going slower this time, word by word as if trying to decipher a coded message that Namjoon might have incorporated in but nothing particular jumps at him. The postscript is written in big letterings but due to no space, it’s been fitted to the bottom corner, sideways. And why a kitchen paper? Why not a normal paper that he could’ve written on more comfortably? Every fibre of Yoongi screams to look harder, closer to find the clues in Namjoon’s words but his heart sinks with the knowledge that the letter is what it is: a goodbye note. Namjoon had left them.
“I’m going to punch him so hard when I see him again,” Hoseok growls, the anger so clear it almost seems like he’s on fire. "I'm going to fucking kill him."
Yoongi doesn’t answer, his mind and heart at war with each other between what he knows about Namjoon and what he’s feeling. He waves Taehyung over to him, Taehyung who looks like a lost puppy right now, big, wide eyes, mouth turned down. “C’mon. We’re in here too long. Taehyungie, grab some of those shampoo bottles.”
Taehyung turns slowly and reaches out for the bottles lining the tub. He pauses, then turns. “Hyung, one is a conditioner and the other is a body soap. Do I take them, too?”
Yoongi gives him a sympathetic look. The boy is still in shock, his brain is barely functioning. “Take them all, Taetae.” Taehyung nods, picking them all up in a hug and leaving the bathroom.
Hoseok stares at the stuff stuck to the wall. “What do we do with them?”
“Not now.” Yoongi reaches for Hoseok’s arm and pulls him along. “We’ll talk to the others first. Come.” Hoseok doesn’t budge at first, fighting against Yoongi. The older man’s grip hardens. “Come, Hoseok.” He finally relents.
Downstairs, Yoongi catches the sight of your hair whipping around the corner towards the kitchen and he heads in the same direction, his fellow rapper’s arm still in his, dragging him down the stairs. In the reading corner that connects the living room and the kitchen, he runs into Jimin who’s standing just by the kitchen’s entryway, hands in his pockets, a hard look on his face. Yoongi gestures with a jerk of his chin towards the kitchen and Jimin goes in.
In the kitchen, the first thing Yoongi notices, apart from the sweet smell of baking, is how everything has been rearranged. The high chairs surrounding the kitchen island that serves as their dining table are all pushed into one corner in two stacks. The vase with the fake flower that had always been in the middle of the island is gone. He finds it in a corner next to the laundry room, a corner so poorly lit you barely notice the small drawer the vase is on. The laundry room door, which had always been left open, is shut. The appliances have been rearranged, too; the popup toaster, the microwave oven and the rice cooker have been interchanged, the blender put away into a cabinet. The most significant thing is the picnic mat on the floor, a tray of freshly-baked vanilla cupcakes waiting in the centre.
Jin sees Yoongi looking at the mat and he says, “A change of pace, what do you think?”
Yoongi nods quietly. “It's a little hard to sit on the floor, no?”
Jin shrugs, busy decorating the cupcakes with blue icings, sitting on the floor with one knee up to steady his hands. “We can bring over some cushions from the front.”
Yoongi nods again, wondering why the eldest didn’t just work at the island instead. He sees you talking quietly with Taehyung on the other side of the kitchen island, your hands clasp together around his back as you stare up at him. Taehyung, who is still somewhat out of it, is nodding along, his hands hanging limply by his side. Yoongi finds himself wishing that you’re comforting him instead, your hands around his waist, with you whispering sweet words while he stares into your pretty eyes that always seem to shine most, even when things are bleak. But he’s been put in charge now, he needs to play the part. If he relies on the others for solace then how will they trust him to lead? At the same the thought crosses his mind, your eyes flit over to him and he does a small take, suddenly afraid you might be able to tell what's on his mind.
Jimin stands close to him, arms brushing his as he leans in to whisper. “What’s happening, hyung?”
Yoongi almost crinkles his nose from how strong Jimin’s scent is, the uncertainty and anxiety rendering it sickly sweet it hurts to breathe it in as it mixes with Hoseok’s spicy one, Hoseok who is still fuming behind him, arms crossed to avoid being dragged around again. Yoongi contemplates explaining to them first or letting the ones who didn’t the first time, to go see for themselves but he can’t risk them losing their cool when he’s not there to regulate their emotions. Hoseok alone was hard enough. “Later,” he finally says to Jimin. “Can you go get the cushions from the front? Pick the thin ones, but comfortable enough.”
Jimin gives him a wary look before heading into the living room. He pauses when he passes Hoseok, turning sideways to assess him. “Hoseok-hyung,” he calls, “can you help me?”
Hoseok looks reluctant but he nods anyway, following Jimin back from where they just came from. Heaving a heavy sigh, Yoongi approaches Jungkook who is struggling to get the ices out of the tray, violently shaking them upside down to get them to fall out. Yoongi wrestles the trays out of his hands and turns on the tap, running water over it to help them come loose. The ice tumbles easily out into the jug Jungkook holds out, smiling gratefully at his elder brother as he starts to prepare the sweet tea.
“Are we just having sweet stuff for dinner?” Yoongi jokes as he watches Jungkook stir the tea around, the ice clinking noisily.
Jungkook shakes his head. “No, they’re for dessert. Jin-hyung made some sandwiches. He thinks we won’t be that hungry since we had a late lunch.” He looks up at Yoongi, lips pouting. “I’m making ramyeon later.”
Yoongi chuckles. “We haven’t even had dinner yet and you’re already thinking what you’ll have after?”
Jungkook laughs. “I’ve seen the sandwiches. It’s not enough.”
Yoongi looks around. “Where are they?”
“In the fridge.”
Yoongi opens the fridge door and sees a huge platter of cold cuts ranging from chicken to beef to turkey, arranged accordingly. Next to it, on a tray, are multiple small bowls that contain sliced up carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, and green peppers, diced up olives, both green and black, and jalapenos. Underneath those, on the second shelf, are two bowls of lettuce and another bowl of peeled boiled eggs. He raises his eyebrows in amazement, straightening up and giving Jungkook an incredulous look. “I think they look plenty.”
“We’ll see,” Jungkook replies darkly before moving the jug of sweet tea onto the kitchen island. Yoongi turns away from the fridge, leaning against it as he watches everyone else in the middle of something. Jimin and Hoseok have come back, arranging the flat cushions around on the mat, circling Jin who’s still focused on making blue swirls on the cupcake, no matter how inconsistent they are. Jungkook is pulling out glasses for the tea, squeezing between you and the cabinet as you’re still talking to Taehyung who’s starting to look a little better, his eyes no longer empty and glazed over, his hands placed lightly on both of your upper arms, rubbing gently as if that motion is the assurance he needs that this is reality.
He looks around the room again, searching almost subconsciously. Where’s one more? Like a tonne of bricks, it hits him one more time that Namjoon isn’t with them and he feels himself shudder, his palms pressing against the cool surface of the fridge door to keep him from staggering sideways. And he’s not the only one having a hard time grasping this. Across from him at the kitchen island, Jungkook had taken out eight tall glasses for the tea, filling them all up, not even realising there’s one extra. And the cupcakes also have sixteen in total as Jin decided two for each person should be enough. Later, when they’ve all taken their fair share, Jin will wonder why there are two left and he will realise with dread that he had miscalculated, too. But now, he’s finishing up the last of the cupcake icing, looking proudly at his handiwork.
Yoongi takes in a deep breath, throwing his gaze up towards the ceiling as he composes himself. Right, he thinks, time to wear Namjoon’s shoes.
*~*
Jin is right, sandwiches are enough for a light supper.
So much so there’s still leftover cold cuts and half a dozen more eggs untouched. Even Jungkook couldn’t eat anymore, giving up on making cup noodles as he sits there staring off into space looking like a rabbit too full to move. I’m picking on my cupcake after having finished the icing, leaving the bottom part in my plate to which Jin had narrowed his eyes with a pout. Hoseok barely ate, one bare sandwich was his limit. Jin had fussed over him but gave up when all he got was grunts and one word replies. When everyone had slowed down in their eating, Yoongi explained what was found in Namjoon’s bathroom, including the content of the letter. He did it in a nonchalant manner as he unwrapped his cupcake and ate it one pinch off at a time, his voice low and even the whole time.
The amount of self-control, the coolness in the way Yoongi delivered the news was applaudable, even the smile he maintained was admirable albeit eerie. His retelling and explanation were punctuated with casual instructions on how he wants us to act; “look at each other” or “don’t focus on me” and “eat more” or “play with your food” and “look away” and “don’t just stare at me”, all delivered with such indifference it feels hard to focus at the disjointedness of what he was saying versus his actions and facial expression.
This is the game we will play, it seems. This say one thing, act another way; all to misdirect. It’s dangerous, even. One of us could slip up and there’s no guarantee that the Master can’t hear us fully. It's a shot in the dark, one that we are betting our lives on.
Jin and Jungkook had managed to ascertain the location of the microphone that I had hoped to be just a wild theory, thus, why the kitchen is rearranged. The flower vase. Jungkook said the flower had felt somewhat heavier, thudding a little against the vase when he picked it up. But to thoroughly check it would’ve been risky so he just casually asked Jin if he can put it aside because it ‘messed with the aesthetics of the kitchen island`. Remembering Yoongi’s warning earlier, Jungkook had moved it where it’s still somewhat visible yet might render it useless. I just hope he was right.
“Keep in mind that the more mics we get rid off, the more suspicious he will get,” Yoongi had said. “So we need to really pick and choose which ones we’ll move and which ones we’ll leave alone.”
After much discussion, everyone agreed we’ll locate and remove the one in the living room where we’re sleeping, and leave the rest alone. Now, the CCTV system design is another thing.
“Are we going to burn it?” I had asked as per Namjoon’s instructions.
Yoongi shook his head. “No. We’re not geniuses like him. I have another plan, though.”
Although a little tricky, his plan sounds valid. Time-consuming but doable. It might take days for this plan to work but Yoongi’s right. The last time we rushed, we blacked out for over three days, leaving a desperate Namjoon to deal with his own dark thoughts by himself, taking the brunt of the punishment. I cannot imagine the loneliness he must’ve felt. His note had sounded…final and I wondered what did the Master do to him but it’s a question I won’t get an answer to until this is over. A question I prefer to never know the answer to if Namjoon is…
I shake my head.
Fixing my sitting position, I look up to make eye contact with Yoongi and for a moment, Namjoon’s face as he tells me that the blinking red lights were nothing to worry about flashes across my mind and I think that’s how he had looked, exactly like that. The weariness and anxiousness of the responsibility weighing on his shoulders are swimming in Yoongi’s eyes, mimicking Namjoon’s back then. Why didn’t I notice it earlier with Joonie? Why hadn’t I looked closer instead of being defensive? Why did I get so angry with him?
“Princess.” Taehyung touches my shoulder and I look at him, my vision blurry with tears. “What’s wrong?”
“I shouldn’t have seen it then,” I say. “I should’ve seen how heavy it had weighed him down. I should’ve known that he was only protecting us. I should’ve-”
“There’s no way you could’ve,” he comforts, cupping my chin. “None of us did.”
“And we knew him the longest,” Jimin says sadly.
Hoseok smacks the floor with a resounding slap. “Don’t talk about him in the past tense.”
Jimin bows his head. “Sorry.”
My head is buried in Taehyung’s chest, a reversed situation from earlier where I had been the one talking him down from his shocked stupor, so I don’t see Hoseok nudging at Jimin’s finger, curling his index finger around Jimin's pinky in a small act of apology for raising his voice, adamantly tugging at it until Jimin looks up with a small forgiving smile. In that same moment, Jin watches Yoongi from the corner of his eyes, worrying that this one too might take it upon himself to assume Namjoon’s vacant role alone.
The CCTV map holds a lot of promise but there’s a long way to go still, but for once, the idea, the hope that there is an escape, made possible by Namjoon, is a lot more tangible. We just have to be patient, bide our time, plan our steps and pray that we don’t lose anyone else along the way.
That night, the pack scoots closer to one another, rearranging the nest more comfortably, Namjoon’s clothes from the wardrobe earlier integrated as a buffer to our cracking emotions. I chose to be in between Yoongi and Hoseok, one due to his frustrating still bubbling beneath the surface, the other because I wanted to be as close to him as possible. I wanted to be the one who catches him when he stumbles, smooths out the crease between his eyebrows, the one to remind him that he is not alone and shouldn’t make decisions on his own. The burden of keeping the pack safe is not only for him to carry, Namjoon specified this.
I inch closer to Yoongi until he pulls me into his arm, my head on his chest. He has his other hand under his head as he blinks up at the ceiling. On a whim, I slip my hand under his shirt, resting right on top of his heart, feeling it beat strongly beneath my fingertips, his skin warm and real and here. “Your hand’s a little cold, baby,” he says, making me twitch a little when he uses Namjoon's preferred pet name but he doesn’t notice my reaction, his thumb moving in small circles on my hip where his hand rests.
Behind me, I hear Jin and Hoseok conversing in low voices, talking about mundane things like what would be the first food Hoseok would like to eat when we get out of here followed by Jin mulling aloud if he can actually make it in here. It helps lighten Hoseok’s brooding, mellowing out his scent enough for all of us to relax a little bit more. To get more comfortable, I wrap my leg around Yoongi’s thigh, snuggling closer to him. I thought that with all that happened today, I won’t get to sleep but I must have nodded off in just a few minutes because when I awake again, the living room is filled with the sounds of breathing, light snoring and the slight shuffling of someone moving in their sleep.
I’m turned on my back with Yoongi’s arm still under my neck. He’s breathing evenly, eyes closed, the other hand resting on his chest. I switch position, turning away towards Hoseok who’s facing me in a foetal position. Jin’s hand is wrapped around his middle and Hoseok seems to be having a bad dream, his brows furrowed. I adjust my position, making sure I don’t shake Yoongi too much when he suddenly also turns my way, his hand automatically slipping around my waist to mirror the two opposite of us.
I pause, waiting for him to settle. I’m about to move again when I feel Yoongi’s hand tensing against me, telling me that he’s awake. I want to turn to look at him but he’s pressing up against me so tightly it’s like he won’t allow me to. I feel something nudging at my thigh and that awakens the omega, letting a small, tiny purr that reverberates in my chest. I lean back against him, wanting to feel his hardness even more.
As stealthily as I can, I reach out behind me for his member, slithering under the waistband of his sweatpants as easily as if he had been counting on it, the laces untied and loosened. I cover the tip with my palm, feeling the smoothness of it as Yoongi tenses against me, breathing heavily right behind my neck. I resume with my petting, moving down to caress his length, feel how hot he’s burning for me, feel the muscle twitch in my hand, the veins just underneath the skin, the precum leaking.
With the blanket pulled up to my chin, Yoongi’s hand moves down south. His motion is swift and deft, pulling down my pants along with my underwear just as Jimin rustles in his sleep. His finger crawls to between my thighs and I made his journey easier by parting my legs slightly, inviting him to the moist warmth that’s throbbing for his touch. He uses his middle finger to glide along my opening, upward towards my clit. He does it a few times to collect the juice but I’m so wet for him that I can feel slick on the insides of my thighs. I let out a soft moan and Yoongi froze. “Be quiet, baby,” he whispers, “don’t want to wake everyone up.”
I nod my head to tell him I understand, my eyes flitting over to sleeping Hoseok to check that his breathing is still even, his eyes still shut. Yoongi leans in again to my ear. “Be extra quiet, okay? Any more noise and I’ll stop.” I nod again, more enthusiastically than I intended. “Good girl, now open your legs a little.”
Yoongi shuffles around behind me as I wait impatiently for what he’s going to do next. My eyes are locked on Hoseok, laying face to face like this I’m caught in between anxious that he might wake up and see and a little mischievous to know what he would look like when he finds out. But for now, he sleeps just as soundly, not moving even when I let out a small gasp as Yoongi slides his cock in between my thighs. I stuff my mouth with my knuckles, my pussy so wet he slides in place easily, resting lengthwise my aching core. He maintains his head on his pillow, his breath tickling the back of my neck as his hand finds my breast. He kneads them, softly at first and then a little more roughly just as he starts to move in between my legs.
Struggling not to make a sound or any significant movements, I close my eyes, the blanket half covering my face as Yoongi uses my thighs to get off, the wetness enough to create smooth forward and backward motions, rubbing my clit with just enough pressure to make me buck a little against him for more. He pauses. I wait. He resumes again and I repeat, moving my hips against his. Again, he stops. I let out a whine and he gives my breast a hard squeeze. “Didn’t I warn you? If you can’t be patient for me, baby, I’d have to punish you.”
I bite my tongue from replying, the sweat running down my neck from being under the blanket. He starts again, moving his hips in the same slow, deliberate movement, his cock hot against my thighs; forward, backward, forward, backward, but for my bundle of nerves, it’s a constant rub, rub, rub, rub, but with nowhere near release, my weeping cunt throbbing to be filled, to be stretched open and rub from the inside instead.
“That’s it, kitten,” he hisses in my ears, “that’s a good girl. Keep your legs together. Yes, just like that.”
His pace quickens and the only sounds he’s making is this low grunting and the rustling of the blanket as he moves, his actions growing desperate as he nears his orgasm. His grip tightens around my middle and as I brace myself against his rocking, I feel him spasm against my back, his head buried in my neck, his cock throbbing with every release, wet and sticky in between my legs. His scent is pungent in the air and it’s only making my own arousal heightened as Yoongi catches his breath, slowly coming down from his high. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even let go, still and quiet apart from his breath falling on my shoulder.
I twist my neck to look at him but he squeezes his arm around me. “Don’t move. Just…let me stay like this for a little longer.” The stickiness is getting uncomfortable but at the smell of burnt chocolate that alerts my omega of a hurt pack member, I stiffen. As a beta, Yoongi’s scent is usually hardly noticeable especially when the alphas are around. My horny brain is still sort of fuddled when I feel the teardrops on my neck and the quiet sniffling, followed by Yoongi’s body shaking as he cries. Sex out of my mind, I do the only thing I can at the moment; I grab onto his arms and hug him to me, one hand slinking around his body to pull him closer to which he complies, curling around me so tight that any tighter we would be molded into one person.
I hear rustling from somewhere behind us and I see Jimin sit up, hair sticking up, eyes open in slits as he looks around, confused. His eyes zone in on Yoongi, just a lump under the blanket and without a word he crawls over, dragging his blanket along and pulling it off of Taehyung who fidgets and scoots over closer to Jungkook for warmth. He settles behind Yoongi and snuggles close. I hear Jimin whisper something to Yoongi, his hand reaching over to me as he makes a sandwich out of his older brother. “I’m here, hyung. We’re all here. See, can you feel me?”
“Yoongi hyung?”
Jungkook’s head appears from under his blanket, eyes barely open. He sits up, hair falling over his eyes and I’m wondering how is he even seeing where he’s going as he shuffles around in the nest to reposition himself at our feet, one hand resting on Yoongi’s ankle, his elbow resting on mine. Taehyung, in search of a blanket, gets up too, glances once towards us and croaks out Yoongi’s name. He spoons Jungkook from behind before settling back to sleep. I look up only to stare straight into Hoseok’s wide opened eyes just as Jin peeks over his shoulder. Hoseok reaches out for my hand from under the blanket but Jin isn’t so subtle. He throws the blanket down and reaches over Hoseok’s to rub Yoongi on the shoulder just with the tip of his fingers before lying back down again.
“Yoongi-ah,” Jin calls out sleepily from somewhere behind Hoseok. “You’re not alone.”
As everyone settles back to sleep, Yoongi’s burnt scent weakens along with his sniffling, breathing more evenly, calmer. He presses a kiss to my neck but doesn’t separate, not by much. I almost forgot that we’re both naked from the waist down under the blanket and thankful that Jimin brought his own over to us. I close my eyes, surrendering to the fact that I’ll just get cleaned up tomorrow when Hoseok mumbles, “You should get cleaned up. Kinda hard to go back to sleep.”
Jin hums in agreement and Jimin murmurs something in return, too, but I couldn’t quite catch it. My cheeks burn hot and Yoongi chuckles behind me, his usual scent returning. I elbow him and he grunts, apologising. “Come on,” he says. He pulls away to take care of his own pants before getting up and bundling me together with the blanket and carrying me up, one hand under my back, the other under my knees. His eyes are still watery, cheeks a little red with stripe marks from when he was pressed up against me. I reach out to push the hair out of his eyes and he looks down at me with a small grin.
He stops in front of my door and is about to push it open with his foot when he has second thoughts and climbs up to the next floor. I frown, wondering why he would need to go all the way when he enters Namjoon’s room and goes straight to the bathroom, switching the light on with his elbow. He gently places me on the lip of the tub, unwrapping me from the blanket, the sudden coolness on my exposed skin making me shiver. He tips my chin up with his finger and leans in to kiss me on the lips, a slow, soft kiss that warms me to my toes. He looks a little shy as he says, “Y’know, you’re my anchor,” walking away before I can say anything.
Yoongi goes through the towel cabinet and takes out a small one. “Take a look at the map,” he says, his tone changing, and I glance over at it. The letter has been moved to the side so it doesn’t cover it. Upon closer look, there’s a faded pencil line that divides the map into six squares: three that cover the top two floors while the ground floor is separated into another three, the living room all through the staircase and up to the reading room entrance, the reading room on its own, and the kitchen together with the laundry room. He turns on the hot water tap at the sink and runs the towel under it. “Pick a section, any section you want.” He pauses as my eyes roam the map, trying to choose something not too big and not too complicated.
“The reading room,” I tell him as he comes back over.
“Okay,” he answers, kneeling before me. “You’re going to memorise the area, all the camera angles, the width, everything. You are going to memorise it so well you can redraw it by heart.”
My eyes widened. “That’s impossible!”
He looks up at me. “It’s not. Not if you have enough time.” He starts to wipe the top of my thighs tenderly.
“How long do we have?”
He shrugs. “A week, but the faster the better.”
I nod, eyes still glue on the square I chose, taking in as many details as I can. The room is small and camera angles are quite wide but there are only two, one on each side of the room, noting that the corners of the room are its blind spots. Nothing else stands out so I shift my focus back to Yoongi, watching him move the towel in one direction around my legs. I open them, giving him room to wipe in between where most of the mess is and his fingers dig into my skin. He flicks his eyes up at me, a dangerous glint there. “Don’t tease me, kitten.”
“I’m not,” I respond in petulance. “I’m just letting you clean up the mess you made.”
He remains quiet, moving his hand systematically. He taps my thigh. “Turn around. I’ll do the back now.”
I comply, leaning my hands against the edge of the tub and bending forward with my legs apart. He squats down, wiping my whole legs instead of just my thighs, slowly and almost sensually running over my ass. Without warning, he grabs at my butt, spreading it open. “Is this how you let Hoseok take you? Spread open like this?”
Bewildered, I don’t answer him fast enough when he runs a finger down my slit, parting it with two fingers. “Still so wet even when I’ve cleaned them?”
“Yoongi?” I mewl, part confused, part aroused. The sudden change of behaviour is both a little frightening and exciting at the same time, making me wonder what flipped his switch. He’s trailing open-mouthed kisses on the back of my thighs all the way up to my hips. And just as suddenly as he started, he stops, breathing heavily, hands gripping my sides so hard I’m sure his nails will leave marks, if not draw blood. I twist around to look at him. “Yoongi?”
He makes eye contact and I’m slightly taken aback by how dark and dilated his pupils look. The conflict in his eyes, the pained expression, the lips turned down in a grimace, and especially the shaking of his body like he’s fighting off the cold. Then he lets go, shuffling backwards, shaking his head as if he’s done something he regretted. “No,” he mumbles. “It’s enough for tonight. I’m sorry, kitten. I’m so sorry.”
I straighten up and turn around, the T-shirt falling down just enough to cover my exposed private parts. My omega senses his distress but the human part of me is just both confused and sympathetic. Somehow, I understand what he’s going through. I reach out a hand. “Yoongi, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay.” He keeps backing away, running his hands through his hair.
“Yoongi, come here,” I call, taking small steps to close our distance. He backs into the sink, eyes fix on my hand but not really seeing it. My omega is telling me that he’s too far down the rabbit hole, his scent spiking up and down between fading and that strong burnt smell. I’ve never experienced anything like this and I’m so lost, my heart twisting at the sight of him. I call for him again, my voice firmer and louder. “Yoongi, come here.”
He jolts his head sideways to the sound of my voice but remained the same. When he doubles over heaving, my brain finally registers it: a panic attack. I’ve only ever seen it happening to someone else once, a long time ago back in high school, and experienced it myself also once in my life, in college. To be honest, I have no clear idea what to do but the omega, the nurturing side of her, takes over and instead of coaxing him to come, I cross the distance and place my hand on his shoulders.
“Yoongi, hey,” I say as gently as I can to mask the tremble in my voice. “Hey, look at me, baby. You’re having a panic attack, okay? You need to calm down, Yoongi baby.” I squeeze his shoulders a little to get his attention, kneeling down on my knees to get eye level with him as he slides down to the cold bathroom floor. “Just breathe, baby, breathe.” I tilt his face up to look at me but his eyes are unfocused. “Breathe, like this.” I demonstrate, taking big breaths and exhaling, repeating a few times. I grab his hands, cold and clammy between mine, and squeeze again. “Yoongi,” I say, trying to think of something to make him focus. Out of desperation, I ask him the one thing that pops in my head, “Do you know how many times you repeat Daechwita in the song?” I start to sing it to him, counting down on my fingers whenever the word comes out.
Slowly, his eyes slide over to me and, through his laboured breathing, squeaks out, “Fifty-five.”
“Count for me,” I say, sniffling, sitting down on my knees opposite of him. “Everytime I say it, count aloud.”
He nods and I start reciting the lyrics to him in a cross between singing it and rapping it, actually butchering the song. But he counts, through hoarse voice and in between breaths, he counts all the way up to twenty-five when his breathing finally evens out, his eyes reducing back to normal as he leans his head back against the cabinet, looking at me through slits as he finally calms down right as I come to the end of the song. I’m still massaging his fingers when I feel him squeeze me back and I look up to find him with a small smile.
“Thank you,” he mutters.
“You’re back,” I sigh, my shoulders sagging as I breathe out in relief. I throw my arms around his neck, snivelling as he rubs my back.
I hear a sound from inside the bedroom and Jin pokes his head in, concern written all over his face. “What happened? Are you both alright?”
“Yoongi,” I hiccup, my face still in his neck. “You scared me.”
“I’m okay now,” he replies both to me and to Jin.
“We’ll talk later,” Jin says. “The bathroom is cold. Don’t stay here too long.”
I break away from Yoongi to look him in the face. The colour is back in his cheeks, his eyes look clearer, too. “You scared me,” I repeat. He breaks into a wide grin. “Don’t ever do that again.”
He shakes his head. “I won’t. But if I do, will you choose a different song?”
I whack him across his chest, pummeling at him as I struggle to get up and leave him when he pulls me back down into his lap, holding me close. “Thank you,” he whispers in my ear. “I lost myself for a moment there. I just…it feels overwhelming, this whole new role I have to fill.”
“Well, deal with it like normal people do. Talk about it.” I look down at my hands playing with the collar of his T-shirt. I look up. “Namjoon didn’t.”
He stares back at me, eyes softening. “How are you so strong through all this?”
I shake my head, feeling a lump in my throat. “I’m not. I’m struggling, too. Just as much.”
He tucks my hair behind my ear. “No, baby. You’re the strongest among us. You’re dealing with so much. The changes, the uncertainties, the emotions you have to juggle between all of us. And yet here you are, rescuing me from myself so calmly when you’re falling apart.”
“It’s because I care,” I say, sticking my chin up and fighting against the lump. “I care too much. And it’s my omega’s job to take care of the pack, however way that is needed.”
“Don’t say it like that. Like you’re some kind of comfort wo-”
“I’m not saying it like anything except that this is my role, Yoongi,” I interject. “And if playing my role helps us stay alive and survive, then I’ll do it to the best of my ability. I’m not going to resist it anymore or deny it. Namjoon’s right. This animal part of us can be the key.”
Yoongi looks at me for a while, reading the resolution on my face and then accepting it. “You’re right.” He tilts his head back, taking a deep steadying breath. “Namjoon must’ve had it hard too but he never cried about it,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to me, but I smile anyway. At the back of my mind, I wonder if he meant as pack leader or the band’s leader in general, the role Namjoon played for over a decade now.
I cup his face in my hands. “We’re here with you, every step of the way, Yoongi.” He nods and I squish his face together. “Don’t forget it.”
His lips are pushed together into a pout when he says, “I like you calling me baby. Do it more, please.”
I roll my eyes as he laughs, getting off of him and exiting the bathroom to find the rest of the pack just outside the door, sitting on the bed or at the desk. I’m suddenly hyper-aware that I’m naked from the waist down (not that none of them are new to that), pulling on the bottom of my shirt. Jimin hands over a new pair of pants and underwear and I hurriedly put them on as Yoongi comes out. He looks around the room, embarrassed.
“We heard everything,” Jimin says. “Are you okay, hyung?”
“I’m fine,” he replies, scratching the back of his head. “Just a…moment of weakness.” He glances over at me and I frown. “Did you say you heard everything?”
The others nod. Taehyung clears his throat and in a deep but mock serious voice he says, “From the beginning.”
The others look away, then, training their faces to not show any expression, pursing their lips or just scratching at their noses or cheeks. But Jin can’t resist teasing. He puts his arms together, one hand on his chin. “So how many times do you repeat Daechwita?” Fifty?”
The others burst out laughing then and I groan out loud. “I hate all of you,” I shout, storming back into the bathroom without another backward look, slamming the door just as Jungkook and Taehyung start to belt out the chorus.
I hold my face in my hands, trying to get through the embarrassment when Yoongi quiets them down. The bathroom door swings open timidly and Jungkook comes in, hugging me from behind. “I’m sorry, noona. But you were pretty good at it.”
I whine, meekly pushing him off but he only hugs me tighter. “Mianhae, mianhae,” he says, giggling. “Don’t hate me, please.” He pouts through the mirror and I glare at him. “Forgive me?”
I’m about to tell him and the others through the mirror no, that they all have a lot of buttering to do when my eyes fall on Namjoon’s letter again. The sad letter that tells us goodbye so easily he didn’t even wait for us to wake up. I’m suddenly reminded of all the times he comforted me, telling me things I can use to fight my own demons, telling me not to let them drown me along with the self-sabotaging words. The way he reads me as if being alpha gives him telepathic powers over his pack, pulling me out of my dark places when he senses I’m falling.
I might not know him that long, not as long as these guys do but during that short time, I understand that Namjoon can be melancholic but he’s never one to be a martyr, never one to just lay down and accept. True, he did tell me to accept the changes but never defeat. And his letter sounds and smells exactly that: a defeated person.
That’s it.
Just the thought makes me laugh, a chuckle first before I’m actually laughing, a belly-aching, relieved laugh that shakes Jungkook along with me who’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. But I don’t care. Immediately, my heart feels lighter. Yoongi mentions in passing about thinking that Namjoon left a hidden message, a code only the pack will get. That’s it, I think. That’s the hidden message from Namjoon.
Don’t try to find me.
I wipe a single tear from the corner of my eyes, looking past Jungkook’s shoulders to Yoongi standing in the doorway with Jin and the rest looking in from behind him. “Do you think we can pull it off in, say, three days? Five, max. We need to be faster.”
Yoongi stares at me but I avert my eyes, focusing on Namjoon’s letter again and then the map he bequeathed us, feeling just a tiny bit more confident. The CCTV system design that’s now our last hope to getting the fuck out of here and finding our leader and bringing him back to us.
Next part: here
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