#;; my emotions are a bit all over the place

[ylangelegy]

After MAMA awards I'M VERY PROUD OF MY BOYS and seeing Woozi crying, nooooo my mannnnn

So can I request Woozi or anyone after awards, all members celebrating with their partners hehe LOVE YOUUU!!!

PLEASE PLEASE 🛐🛐

🍑 i will really live the rest of my life repaying you.

you don't see seungcheol until the next day. such is the life of the general leader, it seems— the never-ending heralding, the non-stop worrying. he deals with his boys, first, then the fans, then the staff. but once that's all done, he's at your front door, collapsing into your arms before he's even past through the entryway. it doesn't matter how many awards its been. he is still overwhelmed by it every single time, and you are a soft place to land. he comes home to you and whispers the sweetest nothings in your hair. i'm so proud of them and they did so well and they're so happy. as he holds you tight— like you're the only thing keeping him upright— it's your turn to let him hear those words. i'm so proud of you. you did so well. you get to be happy, too.

the jeonghan on the other end of the video call has been quiet for the most part of the past half-hour. you'd be more worried if you hadn't already predicted where his solemness was coming from. "hannie? still with me?" you prompt gently, and he finally tears his gaze away from the ceiling to look back at you. "yeah. yeah, i'm with you," he answers. a beat. there are some things you no longer have to say out loud. how he wishes he was there. how he misses them and tries not to let it show. instead, you give him a reminder that's quiet and firm. "this is yours, too," you say. this award. this moment. these boys. all still his. there's a ghost of a smile on his face as he mumbles, "right. of course. how could i forget."

joshua likes keeping lists. a running one he has with you is that of gratitude, where the two of you try to end each day with acknowledgements of what you're grateful for. you're expecting a whole essay for him after tonight. he surprises you by keeping it short, sweet, and straight to the point. in no particular order, he types out into your shared note. music, the boys, you. hours later, he adds a footnote like it'd occurred to him as an afterthought: i'm always grateful for those three, but especially so today.

"look at them!" jun shrieks. his video call pixelates, either from spotty connection or his sudden burst of enthusiasm. you have half a mind to warn him that he may get a noise complaint again, but this time it'd be completely warranted. he's positively vibrating with excitement, his eyes glued to the livestream of his twelve brothers ascending the stage for their second award of the night. "look at them," he repeats, and this time his voice is more reverent than anything. you could comply, could do as he's asking, but your eyes are trained elsewhere. and look at you, too, you want to say. look at you and all that you've done to get this far.

even though it's been an exceptionally long day, soonyoung comes home brimming with adrenaline. he does dance routines in your living room. he jogs around your block until you beg him to just come back. he sings in the shower before collapsing onto the bed next to you, where he suddenly becomes boneless. the glow of pride stays even as the exhaustion hits. he pulls you against him and cuddles right into you. to soonyoung, this is as good as any trophy: the peace that comes with falling asleep next to you.

wonwoo has no destination in mind. he has a car with a full tank, and a playlist of all his favorite songs, and you in the passenger seat. that's more than enough. you pass through tunnels with warm lighting; expressways where he keeps the windows down so the wind will whip at your hair. occasionally, you'll stop to grab a snack or take a photo of something interesting on the side of the street. after hours of just going in circles, he'll ask, "should we keep driving?" even though he knows you'd never deny him this. this. his little celebration in the form of getting 'lost' with you.

nobody hears from jihoon for the next couple of days. the managers are worried, but the boys all just shake their heads and say that he's in good hands. which means: he's wherever you are. the two of you don't talk about his speech, about his public breakdown, because both things make him want to hide forever. instead— he sleeps in. he watches movies from months ago that he promised he'd get to. the two of you go on walks at night, and have breakfast at lunch time. the vicious cycle will soon have to begin again. jihoon knows that. but for a few, precious moments, his heart is not a heavy burden because it's safe and sound in your capable hands.

seokmin takes you on the textbook definition of your perfect date. a shopping spree? here's his black card. an amusement park? he'll rent out lotte world for the day, if he must. you're understandably baffled. he's the one who just won big, and yet you're the one being treated like royalty. try to resist and he'll only push back on you. seokmin already spoils you enough as is, but this is just a little more over-the-top than the day-to-day stuff. at the end of it all, his rationale is as sweet as it gets. "you keep me going," he tells you. "and so you deserve just as much credit as i do."

mingyu has always liked to celebrate with a meal. you'd expected his usual fare of some swanky restaurant or high-end café, but, this time, he asks for only free reign of your kitchen. he props his phone up against the salt shaker and pulls up a youtube video before flashing you his best 'just-trust-me' grin. your trust is not misplaced; the two of you do manage to bake the celebratory cake, though whether it's any good is an entirely different story. the end result doesn't matter as much as the process. mingyu is happiest about the flour marks on your cheeks, about the kisses he steals while you whisk eggs. it's not a birthday cake, but you light up a candle for him anyway. just for the hell of it. "make a wish," you tease. he's looking straight at you as he blows at the flame.

minghao asks for a beach day. the two of you set out for the nearest one. maybe the sand is a bit rocky; the shore, lacking in shells. he doesn't care. he only seeks out the sun beating on his back, the saltwater clinging to his skin, the first punch of air after emerging from the water. as the stolen weekend winds to a close, the two of you sit at the point where the water lap at your toes. neither of you have to speak. here, minghao lets the tide wash away the ache of homesickness. here, minghao redefines 'home' as a future with the boys of his youth, with the music that is as constant as the waves— and with you, of course.

the ferry ride to jeju is about four or so hours long, but seungkwan doesn't mind. there's just something so right about getting on the first vessel that will take him back where he has family waiting with a homecooked meal and a play-by-play of the award show. besides, the ferry means having four hours of uninterrupted leisure time with you. the pair of you literally have nowhere else to be except this boat and this point in time, which seungkwan is a little guilty to be so happy about. he's a glutton for your time and attention, and these ferry rides— these trips home— remind him just how much he likes taking the scenic route.

vernon treats it almost like it's just another day. almost. you're thrown off by his initial nonchalance, by the lack of utter fanfare in the way he asks you out to lunch and the two of you barely discuss the recent accolades. when you prompt him about it, you realize it's not because of arrogance or ignorance. "we're just doing what we always do," he says with an expression of mild confusion. winning?, you almost inquire half-jokingly, but that's only part of it. he elaborates, "we were just ourselves, y'know?"

when chan suggests a rage room, you're understandably confused. the wrath-based activity doesn't seem like the most optimal celebration, but you're not about to cramp his style. the two of you queue the angriest songs known to man before smashing some defunct appliances and throwing empty bottles against a wall. once your time is up, chan looks at you with that familiar spark of fire in his eyes. that dedication you fell in love with, that passion that has always burned bright. "again?" he asks, and you know it's not just the rage room that he's asking for.

[remembrancersticky]

I had a shower epiphany a few weeks ago and have just been working on cranking out this oneshot. Oh, I had so much fun with this. Thanks to @squishyowl for the dividers! They are very pretty!

You get dragged along for a fishing trip, scent a space wolf, and he carves your name onto his (metaphorical?) heart. Fenrysian is just Norwegian here for the sake of simplicity. Very fluffy given this is 40k. TW for hunting, non-sexual nudity, and cannon-typical violence. Asmundr art here and here.

Space Wolf OC(Asmundr) x Serf!Fem!Reader - SFW - 2.8k Words

The world of Silġ was not the coldest you had ever been to. But it was still the thickest part of winter on this side of the planet, and you could feel the moisture of your breath catch and freeze against your eyelashes when the wind shifted.

You waddled behind the three wolves you served today, waylaid by the heaviest furs and boots you owned and the sled-cart you pulled along behind you. The blizzard that had raged for the last month ended a few days ago, though the warp storm that trapped your ship here had not. The sky still sputtered out a sporadic scattering of snow, powdering the dense ice on which you tread.

The three in front of you wore no more than training armor and pelt. You were envious of their enhanced thermo-regulation as you flexed your fingers to stave off the chill that had seeped through your thick mittens.

“Here,” the venerable veteran, Ægir, announced, stabbing his chainsword into the ice.

You slowed as you caught up to the group and looked about. You were the only thing besides flat ice for several kilometers in any direction.

“Finally!”

The youngest, Asmundr, was not known to keep his opinions to himself at the best of times. He was brash and stubborn in every aspect of his life. He was the one that insisted you join them on this venture.

The company and ship’s crew were trapped on Silġ until the warp storm passed. You had already been stuck more than several weeks and many of the younger warriors were antsy for activity beyond their regular training. And, while rations were not depleted, it did no harm to secure supplementary provisions while they were available. Ergo, the Wolf Lord had allowed the formation of a few small hunting parties.

While you assisted the entire pack as your services were needed, Asmundr had all but named you as his personal serf. Not that he had asked anyone in particular, nor would he ever be granted a personal serf given his rank and status if he had. He was simply dogged in requesting your time, specifically. Not that you minded spending so much time with him; he had grown on you quite a bit, and you enjoyed the stories he would regale you with as you cared for his armor.

And so, here you were. Accompanying the small expedition on their fishing trip. You had given up on getting an explanation for exactly what you were meant to do beyond ferry equipment or attend to whatever unfavorable task may arise. Frankly, it was simply a nice change of pace from the monotony of the last few weeks, nice to be away from the stagnant air of the ship, and you were thankful to have been allowed to attend.

Hodr swiped his boot along the ground to disturb the thick layers of snow and reveal the solid ice beneath. Though not as old as Ægir, the scars upon his face told a story of numerous battles fought with unfettered ferocity. He was cold, stoic, but on occasion you glimpsed something wild lurking deep within his eye.

After stomping solidly on the ice without so much as a crack, Hodr gave a nod to Ægir, who activated his chainsword.

Still stuck in the ice, the blade began throwing up shards of ice and compact snow. You turned slightly and covered your face with a mitten to prevent anything from lodging in your eyes. You felt the pitter patter of debris against your form suddenly disappear. Looking up, it seemed Asmundr unthinkingly shifted his position to effectively shield you from the onslaught.

“Mortal,” Hodr called, as the roar of the sword died down. “Bring the pick and shovel.”

You pulled the tools from the sled and made your way to the hole-in-progress. In order to support the weight of three space marines (and especially the earlier stomping), the ice was undoubtedly thick. This pass with the chainsword had not even been close to reaching the water below. Hodr reached down to grapple with the large slab of ice that had been cut away while you worked on extricating the smaller shards. Once the site was cleared, Asmundr gently pulled you a step back as Ægir began his next series of cuts. This process repeated three times before a sufficient opening was formed.

Standing, you wiped the snow off of your knees and pushed the ice shards nearest the opening away with your boot. Suddenly, you felt something thick and heavy land across your back and weigh down on your shoulders. You were almost embarrassed about the surprised yelp you let out, but it was worth it to hear the youngest of the wolves let out a full bellied laugh.

“I trust you to keep this warm for me, vennen min!” Asmundr’s voice bounced with mirth behind you. You rearranged the large pelt he had thrown on you as you turned to face him. And quickly decided to look anywhere else as he undressed to the fullest extent possible.

“O-Of course, my lord.” You elected to keep your head pointed towards the sky as you extended your hands to take the remainder of his clothes. You could clearly hear the other two wolves snickering behind the sound of blood rushing through your ears. It did not seem nearly as cold out as it did just a few minutes ago.

Asmundr placed the wad of clothes in your hands with a smirk before leaning into the sled to fetch his polespear.

“Be ready, brother,” Ægir said as he nudged Hodr bodily. “You’ll have to make up the pup’s slack.”

The young pup bristled in agitation before he sharply pivoted on his brothers with a note of forced laughter. Coincidentally, you suddenly received a full view of all his glory.

“Ha! Afraid you’re not gonna be able to keep up, old man?”

You forced your eyes not to wander below his ribs, which was very difficult as he stood with his chest puffed out and fists confidently resting on his hips. Your face felt so hot that you thought the ice would melt under your feet and swallow you whole.

Despite your years in service to the Vlka Fenryka, you doubted that you’d ever understand just how…comfortable they seemed to be in their plain skin. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact they were Astartes, specifically. You’d imagine it would be difficult to feel vulnerable in any state with the physique of one of the Emperor’s Angels.

“Worried that you’ll drive the best game away in your haste.” Hodr’s voice sounded suddenly closer than you anticipated. Your heart jumped when you felt his hand reach around from behind you, lifting your chin to look Asmundr in the eyes and gently squishing your cheeks together. “It just won’t do if there isn’t enough to go around.” The narrowing of the younger wolf’s pupils was almost hidden by the steam billowing from his flared nostrils. “We can’t have thralls of skin and bone.” His whisper tickled your ear, sending a shiver shooting up your spine.

“I do not leave her wanting,” Asmundr snarled, closing the distance and gripping Hodr’s wrist tightly. You could hear something creak beneath your chin, but the grip on your face never tightened.

“Prove it.” You could hear Hodr’s grin as he finally released you.

Oh, something in Asmundr’s eyes sparked as he threw his brother’s hand away. He spared you a brief glance as he squared his shoulders and quickly cracked his neck.

“Time me!” Asmundr yelled back to Ægir as he raced to the opening and jumped into the abyss.

The air was pregnant with silence for a moment.

“Well,” Ægir laughed, rough and gravelly, “He should be plenty motivated now!”

Ten minutes. It had already been ten minutes.

A space marine could hold his breath for approximately twenty-five minutes, or so you’d been told.

You had heard from one of the company’s Kaerls that she had once heard a story of a chapter that regularly held their breath for the better part of a standard hour. You thought it sounded a bit outlandish, but you prayed now it was true as the minutes continued ticking on.

The first several minutes were spent in a bit of an awkward silence. Or, at least, you felt it was awkward. You busied yourself by meticulously folding Asmundr’s clothes and running an inventory of the little equipment in the sled before cleaning the hole of any lingering debris. You noted that Hodr’s gaze seemed to return the distant tree line frequently while Ægir whittled away on a piece of bone.

“It’s been ten minutes.” The booming voice of the veteran seemed to rattle through your chest, and you nearly lost your footing at the sudden announcement.

 The undignified sound you made as you recovered your stance drew a chuckle from the eldest wolf.

“I’m curious,” Ægir said, pointing his knife in your direction. “What do you suppose the pup’s hunting for right now?”

You stared blankly at him.

“Fish, my lord?”

That veteran laughed, tried to control himself, and began laughing some more before he started coughing.

“You’re not wrong, thrall,” he conceded. You watched a flock of dark birds chitter and flee their roost in the distance. So far away they were like a smear against the sky.

“You know,” he started back up, dropping his gaze to return to the bone figure he was making. “I was out on campaign with the pup.” A thin flake fell away from his hands. “And it was fierce, to be sure. Well, while we were holed up in some throne-forsaken pit, the daft boy starts singing. Badly, mind you, and quiet, but singing nonetheless. And so, I ask him ‘Boy, what do you think you’re doing?’” Ægir looked up and you realized that you’d thoughtlessly drifted closer as the veteran continued. “And do you know what he tells me?”

“No, my lord.”

“He says, ‘Well, that little serf sings this when she’s in the armory, and I thought maybe it would help me focus.’” Another flake fell from his hand as he scoffs, “Focus, my missing big toe.”

Ægir looked like he was about to continue, loudly, but shut his mouth and looked past you a moment before you heard it.

A loud wet thwacking noise echoed across the empty plane and time seemed to pass slower than usual as you saw a vibrant, gleaming, blue fish that could rival the stature of terminator power armor surge out of the icy depths and caress the grey sky, before making its arched decent like an angry torpedo with needlepoint teeth.

You hadn’t survived this long in such a cruel galaxy without any wits at all, and ran to give the beast a wide berth upon its impact with the surface. Its furiously flailing body splashed little droplets of water against your form, which froze solid in the cold air.

“Ha! No wonder he likes you so much,” Ægir ribbed at you, as he seamlessly stabbed the wriggling thing through the back of its head, piercing whatever brain it could have. “You scurry about like ei lita kanin!”

The burning retort that had definitely been on the tip of your tongue was tragically cut short by a sudden series of muted vibrations that traveled up your legs. Something was hitting the ice…

Your feet were moving before you could think. What help could you realistically offer Asmundr from here? You could not dive into the freezing water, you could not drag him back to safety, you could not even pull his body up onto shore without dislocating your shoulder in the attempt. But you knelt stupidly by the hole anyways; you had to be as close to his side as possible, in case he needed you. Because you would do all those useless things if he so much as hesitated in telling you not to.

Not long after, the surface of the water began bursting with bubbles of air from the depths, bringing with them deep oily blood. You called out to him, as if he would be able to hear you meters away and underwater.

“Mundi! Are you okay?!”

Time seemed to drag on for an eternity as the bubbling died down and the water remained still.

You had just started to loosen the straps of your outermost layers to dive in yourself when a crimson streak began racing towards the surface. You could feel your heart fall back into place.

Asmundr’s red hair clung to his forehead and neck as he beamed at you in pride. Or, as best he could.

The spear he lifted out of the water held four native fish, each easily as long as your arm and thicker around than both of your thighs. A massive bony fish with pearlescent armor still wiggled in his maw, cracked where his fangs dug tightly into its flesh. He threw the spear up onto the ice before hefting his bulk out of the hole.

Sitting on the ledge of the ice beside you, he pulled the fish from his teeth. His smug smile showcased the gleaming red that clung to his canines and dripped down his chin. He glanced about briefly before his expression morphed into one of confusion.

“Where’s Hodr?”

Oh. You hadn’t even noticed he’d left.

“Not far,” Ægir said. “He picked up a scent while you were out.”

“Are you okay, Mundi?” You had been keenly looking him over for any obvious injuries he may have sustained since he surfaced. He didn’t seem any worse for wear, but maybe he just rammed the ice with his thick head. You stood up to get a better look. “It sounded like you hit the ice pretty hard.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t near the ice at all.” Rivulets of water trickled down Asmundr’s body, his core temperature just enough to keep the water from freezing against his skin in the cold air. “Are you sure you’re not the one that hit the ice?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed by his teasing tone. You were just relieved that he was okay.

Asmundr’s gaze turned sharply from you to the horizon at a noise you could not hear.

“Finally done batting that pest around, Hodr?”

You turned towards Ægir’s call and watched as Hodr dragged along an enormous, white-feathered land-shark behind him.

“Six minutes,” the wolf bellowed, shaking the leg of his kill. “How long was the pup?”

“Thirteen minutes!”

Something rumbled deep in Asmundr’s chest at the veteran’s announcement and he huffed in irritation. If you hadn’t just been willing to throw yourself into the icy void after your companion out of shear worry, you would have found his pouting cute.

“Mundi,” you started softly as he plopped himself away from his brothers to work on his kills. He did not look up. He was still wet and bare and the wind was still so cold and you did not think you could handle the implausible thought of him catching a chill.

“Mundi, you need to dry off,” you chided as you unwrapped the outermost fur you wore from your waist. It would be warmer and drier than the one he placed on your shoulders, which had kept you plenty warm, but also collected a non-insignificant amount of flurries.

He grumbled something as he continued to work on dislodging his kills from the spear.

You pursed your lips before running the fur across his shoulders and up his neck, before tousling his hair the best you could. You left the fur draped across his shoulders, which he gripped closed across his chest with one hand. He remained incredibly tense before in-taking sharply and shaking his upper body vigorously. You did not escape the resulting splatter.

He tilted his head back to look you in the eyes, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you recognized amusement and joy in them.

“I’m keeping this!” Asmundr announced, sounding very pleased. “But you have to hold onto this,” he tugged slightly at the pelt that still engulfed the entirety of your upper body, “for me, in return.”

The request turned something in your chest.

“Of course,” you agreed, and you couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

 He smiled up at you in turn, his eyes softening as his gaze lingered. In that moment, it felt as if something in the universe had clicked into place. After a few seconds, he abruptly looked back down and dragged the armored fish over to him.

“And,” he drew the word out for a long moment, as he began carving familiar runes into the pearlescent plating with his spear. “You need to make good use of this.” He passed you the fish barring your name, and you had to steel yourself to keep from tumbling under the weight of it.

[galadriel-blue]

Why is the TROP fandom so toxic all of the sudden?

(Rant in the tags and spoilers for S2 E7 of TROP)

[phantom-thieves-official]

something I really like about p3p compared to p5 is the extra bits of narration. I don't know if it's because the game doesn't have scenes with animated models or if regular p3 is like that, too, since I haven't played it. But like in Junpei's rank 10, when he's talking about going to see his dad, you get an extra text box that says 'Junpei's hands are trembling.' and in Shinji's rank 10 you get a few of them, one saying he toys with the pocket watch and one saying he looks down at his feet for a long time. Idk. They're nice. In p5, they use pretty much only the talking sprites and the character model animations to show emotion but things like trembling hands or staring at their feet are little things that probably wouldn't be animated but that add a lot to a scene I think.

[batsplat]

The reigning World Champion got the drive out of the final corner, but not enough to make the difference over the line. So Stoner did the smart thing, attaching himself to Rossi's tailpipe, never more than a breath behind the Italian, turning The Doctor's usual tactics against the old master. Flattered by such attention, Rossi returned the compliment, looking positively Stoneresque in his obliviousness to what was happening behind him. There could have been one Ducati behind him, or a thousand, Valentino Rossi seemed to be riding in blissful, and willful, ignorance of what was going on to the rear.

(x) kinda cute if u think about it. both of them taking on the role of the other in their most infamous duel. casey turning valentino's tactics 'against the old master'. valentino 'returning the compliment' by acting like casey. the line between the pair of them blurring in the heat of battle. 'flattered by such attention'...

there's an ask I am attempting to answer rn where I'm slapping my hands not to start using agassi/sampras quotes to talk about the rossi/stoner rivalry. so I'm just gonna do it here instead. this sampras quote is not not relevant imo:

and to ME this agassi quote also works as a description of laguna 2008:

(see here for more about the agassi/sampras rivalry)

the challenges of a rivalry forcing both sides not just to adapt but also to imitate each other... the tension causing this blurring of the line between the two of them, despite how defined this rivalry is by their differences... no hope of justice, and everyone will blame the victim...

also. not to be too bold here. but this bit is also sort of valentino/casey, wherein they both have a very different understanding of what constitutes 'best' and 'worst':

casey IN SOME WAYS low key valentino's favourite rival solely during the years where they were actually competing for titles, because he's super challenging and tricky to beat and forces valentino to get creative but isn't emotionally messy and is instead kinda fun to play with. valentino switches to casey's tyre in 2008 - he has to learn to do what casey has already accomplished and succeed on the bridgestones, because that's the only way to compete against casey. valentino is a better rider in 2008 for having had to figure out the casey stoner puzzle!! admittedly he'd prefer to have done all that in a season where he spent a LITTLE more time actually racing w2w with his competitors in a way that would've played more to his strengths as a rider, but that's mostly not casey's fault... and crucially they have their One Defining Battle where valentino forcibly wrenches casey and their rivalry from casey's comfort zone to valentino's. and it's not just one race, right - the whole point of that battle is that implicitly it's valentino threatening casey by suggesting he will always do this when given half a chance. valentino learns from casey and adjusts his approach and then takes control of the rivalry by dragging casey down into the dirt with him

and then you've got casey, who very much did not love this rivalry. who is always talking about how much he learned from valentino, how he learned about having to stand up for himself on the track, with the media, had to learn to treat some riders with less respect, to suck up to the press, to race more aggressively, to sell himself better - and crucially NONE of these things he would want to be doing in an ideal world!! he doesn't want to have to ride aggressively and he CERTAINLY doesn't want to be a pr merchant. but he gets pretty good at all of these things... because he has to. because that's the sort of challenge valentino poses for him. and. again. not to get too bold here. but what's also interesting is how... there is just this sense that casey's development doesn't just help him in fighting valentino: the rivalry makes him an all-round better competitor. casey doesn't just talk about having to race valentino differently due to valentino's aggression - instead it's "after two years of racing people who don't worry about you", he's had to change. which, yes, is obviously mostly indirectly slagging off valentino, but in that same answer he's also saying EUROPEANS simply do not understand what he's talking about - this IS a grudge that extends beyond valentino, even if it's always focused around him. (obviously europeans are not inherently more aggressive riders than anglos but... let's not even touch that.) laguna is a turning point of his CAREER, not just of that particular rivalry. it made him realise he had to race only for himself, which is an ethos he carried with him even when they weren't direct rivals anymore. likewise, casey was already constantly feeling misrepresented by the media long long before valentino began working his dark magic. casey came to realise that refusing to engage with the media simply wasn't going to work for him... it's a process valentino jumpstarted, but its effects on casey's approach went beyond the immediate scope of that rivalry, eventually transforming casey into a far more effective communicator for it. casey learned valentino's tricks because that's what it takes to succeed in the sport - both in the literal sense of succeeding on-track as well as the more abstract sense of getting people on your side, selling your story to people. winning them over. even to casey, valentino remains the ultimate point of reference

and these are the parts of the sport casey wishes didn't exist, and they're all so closely connected to valentino. and THAT is where the tension comes from, because casey hates valentino in one breath and learns from him the other and always has to reckon with how much he is willing to cross his own lines to succeed. and it helped him be a better rider! but not in ways he actually liked. this grim tone in which he talks again and again about having had to learn to respond to what an arsehole valentino was... he did not want this. he did not want to have to learn these things. and yet casey ended up becoming a little more like valentino than he had been when their rivalry began. and so his discomfort with valentino becomes his discomfort with the sport becomes his discomfort with himself. and thus even for all the obvious contrast between the pair of them, the line that separates them would occasionally still be blurred

[haru-chi]

Reading the 5th vol of 7th time loop LN .. still on chapter 2 but I gotta say ...

The way both Rishe and Arnold is like "I don't care what anyone says about me but I won't allow them to cross the line nor say something bad about you" then get angry and defensive for their sake is just killing me you had no idea 😭🩵

It has such depth to it that I wanna dig up ugh .. it also reflect both their life and personality or the way they led their life till this point ....

What I mean is ... it's kinda painful and tragic that both of them don't care much about their self-value although showing in different ways/meaning .. that it stems from different circumstances yet the end result is the same ...

Having someone be angry for you and show they actually see the real you is ... liberating .. that everything you did till this point wasn't for nothing .. that you can be you .. the real you and that's okay .. having that one person is enough for you ... that's what it meant for Rishe this kind of action ..

While to Arnold it'll have a different meaning .. he himself will never see any kind of value in himself other than bringing misfortunate maybe, he doesn't even believe he's a kind person ... even his kindness to Rishe serve a purpose to him nothing more or less ... but even so, it's still a real kindness no matter how tainted it is .. he need to realize that deep down he actually kind despite how twisted or tainted he actually is .. his kindness is still alive in him ... Rishe gonna show it to him before anyone else ... she'll let it bloom to show its true self for sure one day ... he believe the bad things people says about him ... he himself also led them to believe most of it ... maybe also deceiving himself before those which led him to actually believe that it's the real him ..

So Rishe standing up to him .. not allowing anyone to badmouth him is just ... nothing he ever experienced that he doesn't know how to feel or react about it ... maybe even feel guilty toward it ..

While I believe Rishe is confident in herself and love herself more than anyone else thanks to all her past lives ... in her first is where she went through that self-worth depression when she thought her life has ended when that idiot prince broke their engagement .. that's why current Rishe won't be that shaken with whatever anyone else says about her. She moved on from all of that.

But Arnold doesn't have that mentality toward himself, he really doesn't see any self-worth in himself. The way he doesn't care about what anyone said about him is because part of it he believe it himself, the other he don't see himself as a good or kind person and to him he doesn't worth anything. The last one is that he truly doesn't care about anyone's opinion of him. He doesn't wanna bother.

So having Rishe defend his image has shaken him differently ...

While Rishe broke her shackles long ago thanks to all her past lives, Arnold is still shackled and not free as she is ...

Ummm ... I feel I went rambling without sorting all my feelings or thoughts, so if I make no sense don't mind me. Also I'm still reading through this but I couldn't contain my emotions or thoughts and had to write it down somewhere (maybe reading on either gonna change my view or confirm it too)

But anyway, I'm in pain, in love, and screaming and I'm still in the start of this vol that I don't know if I'll handle more going forward .. they're killing me 😭🩵

[ask-dices-cups]

Some of my other favorite animated characters! ><

-Vik

{First}

[Broken Contract AU Details and Rules]

[gholdengodaily]

[Reply to] [@book-of-legends]

Mac listens to Sirius's answer intently, repeating it back to himself in his head a few times until he was satisfied he had committed it to memory. After all, actually learning something here is probably some of the best encouragement Mac could give to Sirius, but Mac's painfully aware at how quickly information can get lost in his mind, and it certainly didn't help part of his attention was caught on Sirius's prior comment on his interactions with others thus far.

What kind of Pokemon did Sirius say the messenger was, again? Ah, heck... Still, at least the important parts of the story were there. Mac returns Sirius's smile at the conclusion of his answer with a wide grin of his own.

The air above Mac's hand begins to shimmer and fizzle. A warmth radiates outward from it. Suddenly, a crack! like a can being opened, and a coin appears, falling into Mac's waiting hand.

Mac drops the coin into Sirius's hand without waiting for any kind of response. The coin is pleasantly warm like the air before its creation. A slight hum can be felt hold it, and when the light catches it right, it shines iridescent. Gold, yes, but clearly not normal gold.

[horsemage]

I think we should bring back basic etiquette lessons such as shutting the fuck up when you’re watching a movie in a group that is not exclusively your friend group 🙂

[merrymissmouse43]

6 weeks of breathing clean air, I still miss the smoke…..

🏝️🤙🏄🏾‍♀️🏄🏼‍♂️💔

[unheald]

-

[notreallyuseless]

I'm going to be dramatic once again but can the qsmp admins and Quackity stop with talking about killing the eggs? No but for real, if they're tired of it or want to end the event, they have an easy way out without upsetting anyone: make the eggs leave. Go back to the "dragon". Whatever. The very first video about the egg event told them that the "dragon" would give a reward to the parent(s) who had the happiest egg. Go that route??? So that no one gets upset. I'd much rather have the eggs leave and we never know their fate afterward than to straight up kill them, just saying.

[uravityxo]

morning friends !! i am awake SUPER early :(( i am hoping i'll be able to fall back asleep,,, if not!! hellloooo~

[fgfirenation]

OBEY ME! SLENDERVERSE AU HEADCANONS!

What the Obey Me characters would do, if MC is a proxy of Slenderman, and how MC’s squad would react to them being taken away by Diavolo all of a sudden for the exchange program?

Aka – Chaos is coming.

(Also, I’m very well aware, that Masky/Tim and Brian/Hoodie are from Marble Hornets. I’m not an idiot, mostly. Same goes for Toby not being a Creepypasta anymore, but come on. You really think I’m not gonna add him?)

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

BLOOD, GORE, PHYSICAL AND MENTAL ILNESSES, ATTEMPTED DROWNING, PSYCHOPATHIC AND SOCIOPATHIC TENDENCIES, UNCOMFORTABLE SCENES, THE CREEPYPASTA AND OBEY ME CHARACTERS BEING MERCILESS TOWARDS ONE ANOTHER  (MOSTLY THO-)HEAVY TOPICS, SLENDER BEING AN ASSHOLE, STARVATION MENTIONINGS, YA GET IT.

IF THIS IS NOT YOUR CUP OF TEA OR/AND YOU CAN’T HANDLE THIS, PLEASE IGNORE IT!

MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS!

THIS IS 18+ FOR A FREAKING REASON!

I’M NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANYTHING, IF YOU PRESS “KEEP READING” OR “EXPAND”!

YOU DECIDED THIS AND NOBODY ELSE! YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!

AND NO, I’M NOT ADDING LUKE TO THIS! OBVIOSLY!

______________________________________________________________

Lucifer vs Tim/Masky

Oh boy, this is bad. Very bad!

Tim is angry and scared to the moon and down, because one of his fellow “co-workers” (and friend) vanished in thin air in front of his face and the Boss.

Masky and Tim are already trying to track down MC without a second thought. He wants his pal back and to not anger Slenderman himself (Unfortunately the Boss already knows and isn’t happy about it by a mile-).

Also yes, Masky is Tim’s alter ego, who is more violent. I don’t make the rules. Same goes for Hoodie/Brian.

While in the Devildom Lucifer already is getting gray hair from the realization, that MC works for the faceless eldritch horror monster himself and they’re part of a huge group, which consists of infamous and brutal serial killers, demons, ghosts etc.

Lucifer is ready to defend his brothers and MC from possible threat and even if he’s not showing it, deep down Luci is losing his absolute shit.

The fact, that he found out about MC’s past and how they were forced to work for the monster against their will (including the Slender sickness and the brutal years of fear, depression, physical torture and rapid mental health decrease), broke the Avatar of Pride’s heart to billions of pieces.

Ironically, both Tim and Lucifer are the right hands of a higher being (except that Tim got overpassed by Toby. Tim is calmer about it, but Masly still acts like he’s in charge and is pissed off-).

Luci – Dia and Masky/Tim – Slender. You get it.

Now when these two finally meet, you’ll probably think, that Tim and Masky are going to lose. Might have to remind you, that they work for Der Großman and just because Lucifer is one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom, that doesn’t mean the Avatar of Pride is going to get out unharmed.

Tim is more for negotiations, but Masky is all about bloodshed.

Scratches, wounds done by a crowbar and magic, burn marks, bruises. You name it.

These two are at each other’s throats on sight (especially if Masky is in charge).

Lucifer underestimates him for a moment before a good hit from the proxy’s crowbar makes the fallen angel see stars.

And one smack from Luci’s wings blows Tim away, making Masky to come out.

Uh oh.

Masky is angry and Luci receives a hit in the groin, making him bend over in pain.

One thing aside, Tim can relate to Luci at a certain degree, when it comes to power position and dealing with a hyperenergetic idiot (Mammon and Toby-) …

But this won’t stop Tim/Masky from getting their buddy back nor this will stop Luci from annihilating the proxy into oblivion.

The situation can get worse, because of one thing.

And only one.

Slenderman taking over his proxy and Lucifer shifting into his final form.

Not his demon form.

I’m talking about 10 ft tall eldritch horror with the resemblances of a goat and a peacock in Luci’s monstrous form.

Larger claws, bigger horns and sharper teeth.

Tim’s eyes going white as an ominous aura surrounds him and his vision becomes red from rage and adrenaline.

This is gonna get ugly fr.

Spoiler alert: Lucifer won-

But barely. Just barely.

Slender ain’t taking shit from some demon, even if that demon is powerful as fuck, and not getting one of his proxies killed.

Yet.

Mammon vs Ticci Toby

If you think Tim/Masky and Lucifer’s situation was bad already… Yeaaah. Think again.

These two are AN UNSTABLE DEPRESSED TOUCH STARVED MIXED BAG!

There are two ways this encounter is gonna end.

Either by the two trying to kill each other, duh… or them breaking down and venting to one another.

Toby is a broken and lonely energetic man, that adores and cherishes MC a lot, despite him being unhinged af.

 Mammon, on the other hand, feels lonely, despite his hype energy, and suffers from depression for thousands of years ever since him and his brothers fell from the Celestial Realm. He loves MC with his whole heart as much as Toby does.

On top of all the Avatar of Greed’s constant mental and physical suffering, along being insulted and hurt by his brothers 24/7, hits Toby too close to home. The proxy can’t feel pain, because of his C.I.P.A., but he can definitely see or feel the emotional wounds the second-born carries. Seeing him get hurt actually makes Toby’s tics more violent, because of his own emotions triggering them. (Why’s this actually cute-)

It reminds Toby of his past…even though his memory is blurry and distorted, because of amnesia, and he only remembers slightly from images from his nightmares, that often include his dead sister, who he misses so much.

There’s a chance these two will try to kill each other and blood be raining left and right.

But let’s be honest…these two want their constant hells to stop and everything to feel right again.

Ironically and most surprisingly is that these two have the highest chance to cooperate and get MC away from the upcoming shitshow.

I can write about these two for hours ngl. TT

They both need a hug and I think they’ll be good friends somehow.

It was supposed to be angsty, when it comes to them both, but FUCK IT!

They’re their own emotional support and MC is their therapist. I don’t make the rules.

They’re friends now. (You see how much I still adore Toby after all those years and how much Mammon needs comfort, love and THERAPY! LUCI, I’M LOOKING AT YOU! MASKY, I SEE YOU TOO!)

Toby and Mamms are protecting MC with their lives and doing shenanigans together.

Just hope Slenderman doesn’t take control over Toby, because…angst all the way AND I’M NOT READY FOR IT!

(After writing this headcanon I need somebody to make a hurt/comfort fic with these two RIGHT THE HELL NOW! Please, tag me, if you do. I live for this AU now. TT)

Leviathan vs BEN Drowned

If you really thought I wasn’t going to add BEN in here, then you’re so wrong.

Yes, we do have Lost Silver, Sonic.exe, Glitchy Red etc., but I couldn’t resist. (Please, don’t hate me, guys! TT)

When it comes to BEN, it really depends about which one we are talking about. The canonical one, where BEN and Ben are two different things. Or the fanon one, where things can go haywire.

 So, for the sake of not tiring myself further, I’m choosing the fanon one. (But the canon BEN will always be my favorite oop-)

Now in my canon BEN is VERY, VERY competitive, calculative and sadistic.

One of the people he has a soft spot for is MC and when they disappear out of thin air… Sparks of electricity start flying around and he almost causes a fire, that could’ve destroyed his cabin.

(Yes. The Creepypasta live in cabins and not in the mansion. Even the proxies.) Once BEN finds the culprits behind MC’s disappearing thanks to his amazing hacking techniques, motherfucker is ready to throw hands and spill some blood.

On the other hand, Leviathan has dealt with MANY cursed video games before, example in the canon lore. But he has NEVER dealt with or seen something like BEN Drowned himself.

Don’t get me wrong. Levi 100% knows who the entity is. His knowledge about cursed video games in the human realm is enormous and he has definitely heard of the cursed Majora’s Mask cartridge and its host.

The problem is that Leviathan thinks he can beat BEN and destroy him, if it means the demon serpent can keep MC away from being hurt.

Except that he’s totally wrong about the competition he has.

The Avatar of Envy is the best gamer in the Devildom and he can annihilate his opponents in no time, but the drowned Creepypasta he’s facing is something far stronger than what Levi expected.

Like Lucifer and Masky’s situation the moment these two beings meet it’s on sight.

But they take it on a whole new level. They try to kill each other in a digital world they both created, so it can be more fun. It resembles the Devildom, but if the apocalypse happened.

Leviathan, as the sea serpent, uses the water environment to his advantage, hurting the video game entity. He slashes on BEN’s skin and surprisingly blood starts to spill down.

Soon flesh starts to fly around and the demon serpent attempts to drown the undead Link-look-a-like by holding him under the waves, Leviathan is fully aware that Devildom’s sea can actually kill supernatural creatures, if they aren’t careful enough. (Levi can’t be harmed in the waters, because he’s literally the demon serpent from the myths and his element is water. Idk, if it makes sense.)

The envy demon thinks he won, but the moment BEN’s fear of water fully steps into the scene... It’s all going downhill.

Bloody tears sip down on the undead elf’s face with the rusty chains on his limbs moving around like the heads of a furious hydra.

Sparks flying around with cables wrapping around Levi.

The 100 000 voltages aren’t actually the most dangerous part, but the currents, that are passing through Levi’s nervous system and heart, have him screaming and tears running down his face.

Demons can withstand huge amounts of electricity.

But not only BEN’s electric powers are stronger than a normal electric shock, Levi being in water makes it worse and knocks him out immediately, his body still convulsing. The demon got outsmarted.

BEN isn’t here to kill him surprisingly, but to take MC back home with him.

The others may be blood-thirsty, but the undead elf has more braincells than what the others think.

Hey, it could’ve been worse. A controlled proxy maybe.

Except that BEN now needs to deal with angry Lotan and Henry 1.0-

Somebody, help him before he gets thrown around like a ragdoll-

(I did not just make this so angsty and Levi being a dick- TT. Sorry not really. I also went wild mode on this. Levi’s my fav and I always wanted to write a fight between these two-)

Satan vs Jeff The Killer

Do you really wanna question why I choose these two for this?

The Avatar of Wrath and the always angry smiling cuckoo killer?

Yeah, it’s self-explanatory.

Cat person vs Dog person-

When Satan finds out, that MC works for the Slenderman and about their past, his rage goes up to the sky.

“Nobody is allowed to hurt my MC!”

He almost sounds like Mammon, when saying it out loud.

But he isn’t the only one, that is overprotective of his darling.

Jeff, despite being a piece of shit, is somewhat fond of his MC. (Considering the fact, that he’s 24/7 angry at everybody-)

When he learns, that they were taken away by some demon lord… God forbid the chaos, which will come next.

He was doing so well at not showing, that he’s so head over heels for MC.

Acting all macho and bullshit etc.

 But the moment the news reaches his ears, the walls are crumbling down.

 Chairs, cupboards, beds, KNIVES, hatchets, axes, tables, consoles – you name it.

It’s all either broken or almost completely broken/destroyed/shattered.

Fuck the killing spree he was gonna do and the guts spilling with his maniacal laughter!

Jeff’s legs are already marching towards the Devildom.

 (Dumbass doesn’t know, that he’ll face the most powerful demons next to Zalgo. Dunderhead doesn’t know, that he needs a portal to get there, but leave him to bash his head against a rock-)

Jeff gets eventually to the Devildom, luckily, he’s adjusted to the darkness from the constant nightly human hunts he does for a living,

But gets immediately yoinked into the air and into a wall, leaving a freaking dent into the structure.

The amount of force used to yank him away leaves Jeff with a blurry vision, pounding headache and blood already running down his chin.

The next thing he knows is a tall greenish figure standing above him.

He confuses it at first for BEN and ready to curse him out, but the neon green flames finally catch his attention and wake him up completely.

Jeff has quite the huge phobia of fire, thanks to his past, and almost immediately freaks out, while yelling his lungs out.

 By instinct his infamous knife swings at the figure and leaves a small cut on Satan’s left cheek.

The Avatar of Wrath’s eyes turn completely black with green pupils in the center. The rage overtaking him.

And shit hits the fan quicker than Usain Bolt.

Satan has a death grip around the killer’s neck, trying to choke him until there’s no more oxygen in his lungs or to break his neck like a tiny twig.

Jeff’s legs are kicking desperately and he barely manages to free himself, thanks to the adrenaline entering his body fast.

Trying to regain his breathing, the smiley man barely avoids a firey blow coming from the demon.

His knife hits Sat and actually manages to leave scars on him, blood dripping down onto the ground.

This continues for awhile before the Avatar of Wrath fires out a green fireball and it colliding with Jeff’s body.

In the last moment the killer’s weapon plunges into the demon’s back and the blonde falls on the ground, unconscious and limp.

Jeffrey barely sits up, the adrenaline slowing down and the pain from the burns and wounds hitting his nerve system like a trainwreck. Followed by a scream as he tries to calm himself down.

Jeff may act or look stupid most of the time, but he has braincells, that he knows how to use.

He doesn’t really have time to rest as his eyes widen more (if that’s even possible) in horror, when Satan’s body twitches and the demon’s wounds start to heal up. The criminal’s weapon still in Sat’s back.

Jeff feels for the first time scared and anxious (in his life as a Creepypasta) as he stands up, bare and bloody hands next to his body, reading himself for a gory round 2.

Asmodeus vs Bloody Painter (Helen Otis)

Two beautiful narcissistic beings fighting each other.

MY KNEES ARE WEAK-

Look, guys. I’m a HUGE certified simp for Helen (even tho he looks like a Twilight-look-a-like dude-) and I have a soft spot for Asmo…

I’m not okay. THESE TWO-

Also, I’m using the canon version of Helen from 2017, because YES and because some people forget, that canonically he’s born in 1980- (If you don’t believe me, look it up on his Wiki page.)

He’s still an introvert, but not your typical weak and shy one. Bitch can bend your back like a stick like fuck-

Back to the topic.

We have Asmo  - the Avatar of Lust, the most beautiful demon in the entire Devildom, a narcissist, a huge flirt and overprotective of MC, a captivating being, perfectionist (especially when it comes to his looks), touch starved (Like Helen), needs real love and comfort (Like Helen) and loves beautiful things.

Then we have Helen – literally everything I said about Asmo, but remove the demon and Devildom parts. And just add serial killer, who’s an artist and a hunter-

(In one of his canon animations a guy compliments BP for the deer head, that he got from one of his “beginner” hunts-)

Bloody Painter is also described as a jerk with the front of a gentleman, who also seeks only benefits.

Helen is also canonically agender. (His creator confirmed it in a reblog on Tumblr.)

Helen is VERY self-aware, that he’s good-looking, please.

So having somebody, who’s more beautiful than him, ticks him of slightly. (a lot)

But the glass overflows, when his dear MC vanishes in thin air.

Somebody’s gonna become part of his gory paintings and sculptures REAL SOON.

Unfortunately for our painter, Asmo is pissed off at him thinking, that he can take away MC and be as beautiful as him. NOBODY IS MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN HIM AND NOBODY WILL EVEN LAY A HAND ON AND HURT HIS SWEETHEART!

To say that Asmodeus is pissed off is an understatement by a hundred miles.

The narcissistic killer eventually gets sent in the Devildom, but like Jeff he gets ambushed almost immediately. And his plans go to shit.

The Avatar of Lust puts him under a strong charm and makes him walk towards a tall cliff, under which lay dozens of sharp rocks.

Somehow by pure luck, Helen gets free in time before he can fall to his death and get impaled.

People often mistake him for a slow man in his early forties, but holy shit. He’s flexible and fast as fuck.

Also strong, because in canon Delu (his creator) confirmed, that he has some muscles on.

His fast punches, kicks and knife slices do a fair amount of damage to Asmo and BP’s gun contributes to it.

But the moment Asmo notices, that he ruined his perfect face, Helen better prays to however is out there, because of what’s coming next.

Asmo’s true, TRUE demon form comes out. An eldritch horror mix between a demonic humanoid bat and a scorpion now stands at 9 ft over the serial killer.

Holy shit-

 The demon’s tail wraps around the man’s body and drags him through the ground like a ragdoll left and right. Kicking, stabbing and trying to claw out Otis’s eyes.

The killer feels something plunging into his left leg and notices Asmo’s scorpion tail impaling it and injecting him with venom.

Out of fear, the killer’s usual collected self absolutely breaking apart, he stabs Asmo in his chest and ripping a huge chunk of flesh, blood flowing down like a river.

Otis kicks Asmo in the groin and makes a run to hide somewhere.

The egotistical and confident Helen Otis, The Bloody Painter, is hiding for his life now and trying to think of a plan as Asmo’s angry screech pierces his ears, along with the venom starting to take effect on Helen’s body.

He needs to act quick or things will get even uglier... 

Beelzebub vs Eyeless Jack

The Avatar of Gluttony and the cannibalistic eyeless demon.

Lord, have mercy on me.

I can’t see Beel and EJ killing each other, because golden retriever and grumpy cat energies.

But for this AU I have to. (Yes, Mamms and Toby are an exception… OK. I’ll add ONE fluff part for Beel and Jack’s part. Ok maybe more… Ok! They’re an exception too-)

If these two were friends, Beel will 1000% try to find a way to either turn EJ back to human form (In my headcanons Eyeless is disgusted by his nature and wants to revert back to his human form. “Thank you”, Jenny bitch-)

Or he’ll try to stop his hunger for humans with a spell or a potion with the help of Solomon.

Buddies-

But unfortunately for both of them, this situation requires a bit of…violence.

Let’s get this out the way first: Both are walking brick walls. Both towering over most Creepypasta, humans, angels, humans and other beings at the height of 7’7-8 ft. Both are quiet and don’t speak a lot, except when they’re required to speak.

Both are stoic, but soft on the inside (Except that Beel shows this fluff side of him WAY more-).

And both are scary af, when angered.

So, imagine the chaos, when Eyeless Jack finds out you were kidnapped. HIDE, EVERYBODY! SOMEBODY IS ABOUT TO GO APESHIT!

Now imagine the rage Beel feels, when he learns about your past. RUN, RUN, RUN!

Who said we need Godzilla vs Kong. Beel and EJ fight is gonna destroy everything around them.

The moment these two meet you bet, that the ground is gonna rumble from their force of fighting.

Fuck. It’s not even a fight. It’s a freaking war.

They’re both extremely strong demons and their muscles ripple from the sheer amount of power they have in their bodies as they collide.

Don’t forget, that Beel is the best at the sports in the Devildom, where they’re even harsher than the ones in the human realm.

But Jack is also connected to Chernobog, to who he was sacrificed to, when he was in college. (Fuck you, Jenny.)

So, both have way more strength, speed, stamina, flexibility and agility than everybody else. (Except Diavolo, Slender and some other supernatural creatures of high power.)

Beel uses a death grip on EJ like an anaconda would do and the eyeless demon feels his bones cracking like sticks.

But one headbutt is enough to send Beel onto the ground on his ass.

Never has ever he seen somebody, who can knock him on the ground like that with just their head. Dia is probably the other demon, who can hurt him, but Beelzebub is still baffled by Jack’s strength.

 However, EJ soon receives a harsh punch to the lower jaw + the nose and surely dislocates the jaw, black blood spilling down from his mouth and his nose.

On top of all, the azure ceramic mask, that he had on, is laying down in his feet, broken into many pieces.

Jack exposes his eight tongues, giving Beel a chill down his spine and sinks down his teeth in Beel’s left arm and rips out a good chunk of it. The Avatar of Gluttony barely suppresses his urge to scream.

Jack’s black tar-like tears, that ooze from his empty eye sockets, burn the ginger’s hands and he quickly retracts them back, giving EJ the advantage.

But the dark ashy-grey skinned demon doesn’t take it.

He’s standing there and heavy panting leaving his lungs.

Heck, EJ didn’t even have the chance to use his scalpel, which now lies broken onto the ground. He didn’t even notice when, that happened.

Here’s the thing. Eyeless Jack isn’t dumb at all. He’s one of the smartest people in the entire Creepypasta squad.

And even if he appears cold and apathetic, he can see, that Beel only thinks and does the best for MC and is just protecting them.

“I know, that you want the best for them, giant. I’m the same, despite not showing it, “says Jack, his deep and rumbling voice slicing the silence like a sharp razor.

This makes Beel stop in his tracks, his body freezing like a deer caught in headlights.

“What?”

Even the Avatar of Gluttony can’t process what was just said to him.

“You heard me. This whole fight was stupid and I had to realize that after my face almost got smashed…MC won’t like us getting hurt and you know that. I can sense your overprotectiveness, if that makes sense.”

Beel just nodded, still waiting for EJ to continue his talking.

Jack returns the nod and proceeds. “I’m giving you a choice. Help me get MC away from this shitshow. And to stop this madness. Us killing each other will only hurt them… And I’m saying that as a cannibalistic serial killer demon, who works for the tall noodle arms.”

The ginger thinks for a moment. What Jack offered was something he can’t refuse. If it means MC and his brothers will be ok, then he’s all for it.

“Ok… What’s the plan, um…”

“Just call me Jack for now. Your name, giant?”

“Beelzebub.”

Belphegor vs Kate The Chaser

This one gave me a headache. I didn’t know who the fuck to put for Belphie.

At first, I thought about Jeff, but this option was discarded quickly.

I literally spent two hours thinking about this. No joking.

Then I remembered, that in my headcanons Kate is a freaking insomniac, that wants to sleep desperately.

Being up for hours and working to exhaustion for the Slenderman has messed up her sleeping schedule badly throughout the years.

So, I guess this works too??? Idfk.

But our Kate The Chaser needs more attention, because she’s so underrated. I’m adding her whether you like it or not.

The proxy has been following Slenderman and absolutely despises him, because he took everything from her and her freedom.

Even when she’s so close to drop onto the ground from how tired she is, the insomnia kicks her in the gut.

She’s one of the first ones to find out about Mc’s disappearing and immediately sets off to find them.

She’s not losing another one of her friends. Kate lost way too much already to allow this.

Despite her exhausted state and broken mental health, she puts MC and everybody else before her own needs.

She’s so quiet, that people thought she was mute at some point. She doesn’t show it, but this cold on the outside proxy cares so much about her MC and her friends.

Kate will take an arrow, a bullet, hammer etc. to protect them all.

The proxy in my headcanons has troubles with expressing her emotions and still holds onto that tiny bit of humanity, that she still has inside of her.

Even after years it gives her hope, that she can escape and live a normal life again.

Slenderman’s influence is also the only thing, that keeps her from fainting and the harsher side effects of her insomnia, but ironically makes them worse, because Kate often suffers from splitting headaches.

Unfortunately, her senses have been wonkier, because of her sleep deprivation. She’s still just a human, but slightly enhanced by eldritch powers. Just slightly.

So, when Kate enters the Devildom, the woman doesn’t register, that somebody is already waiting for her and to stop her from approaching MC.

The Avatar of Sloth himself has made an appearance, ignoring his needs to sleep.

Katy isn’t afraid tho, since she has dealt with all types of supernatural shit.

But she’s even surprised at how slowly her body reacts this time, but not that slow, of course.

Again - she’s still average than most humans, thanks to Slender’s influence.

And for Belphegor, if some people still think he’s too tired and weak for this shit… I have two words to say.

Lesson 16.

Happy war flashbacks! :)

Belphie learned from Beel about Mc’s past and the Slenderman…and if you think angry Beel is scary, well…

Belphie might overpass Slenderman and EJ, when it comes to being scary, when angered.

The dark aura around him gives Kate chills down her spine and even makes her take a few steps back.

He does try to knock her out, but even at the edge of collapsing her body reacts quite well.

A stab wound finds itself inside his chest and a guttural growl escapes his lips.

Blood, his blood, covering her hands.

After a bit of dodging his attacks, unfortunately for her, Kate’s balance betrays her and meets face first with the ground.

Using the last bits of strength she has, her arms push her up, but only for the proxy’s body to collapse in the dirt again.

The Avatar of Sloth has her pinned down and his arms quickly go around her neck to choke the living shit out of her.

Kicking, scratching and struggling to get off of the demon, Kate finally makes a proper eye contact with him and he finally sees the absolute breaking point of her will.

Her mask tossed aside, revealing her dark eyebags and the exhaustion written on her face.

Her strength failing her and Kate’s body screaming for rest and for this madness to stop at last.

Belphie can notice, that her will is small, but still there, while fighting to continue.

Her bravery, despite being human, but slightly enhanced.

 The demon can easily crush her ribcage, neck, skull etc.

But he, for some freaking stupid goddamn reason, can’t do it.

Kate claws at his hands and coughs, because of the grip around his neck, while tears are threatening to spill down her face.

She must look so defenseless and dumb like that.

The next thing though surprises her a lot.

He puts his hands around her tightly, resembling a snake’s grip, but not too tight at the same time.

Her legs hit him in the groin, which he ignores, despite the pain, that comes with the impact.

The proxy’s body starts to slowly calm down as his aura shifts to something more non-threatening.

It feels nice.

Her eyes going heavy and the whistling of the wind around them lulls her to a deep slumber.

As much as her brain wants to fight it, her body gives her up and Kate’s eyelids close after a minute.

Her breathing steading in her sleep, along with her heartbeat.

Belphegor lets go slowly off of her body, leaving her on the ground gently for the proxy to lay properly.

He’s the Avatar of Sloth and her situation was a desperate cry for help.

For even a tiny moment to rest.

To which he answered.

His own lungs are starting to calm down as he lays down next to her, the Devildom’s all-night sky covered in stars above them both.

Belphie doesn’t realize, that his eyes subconsciously go back to her finally peaceful place.

And he wonders, if the rest of the beings with her are this desperate for peace deep, deep down into their souls.

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Here ya go! Part 1 of... whatever I created.

I have absolutely NO idea what the fuck I wrote.

But I love these two fandoms and want to provide content for them!

Yeah. The characters are probably very OOC, but fuck it.

My sleep deprived head was capable of writing ( and rewriting ) only this during the ungodly morning hours.

Sooo... Enjoy!

(Please, don't kill me Obey me and Creepypasta fans-)

Part 2 is coming up... Idk when.

[randomingoftherandomness]

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