#and a game where you feel a supernatural lack of control that's about being inside both a building and an organization

[threetrenchcoatsinatrenchcoat]

Love Control and Inside, two games that seem like they should switch titles and hit harder when you realize why they don't

[immediatebreakfast]

Dracula sees to it that Jonathan is psychologically destroyed. He wasn't content to simply take his envelopes and paper, which were his methods of sending letters home once more. Dracula, for example, knows that Jonathan is unable to escape the castle, but he nevertheless says, "Even if you miraculously made it out of the house and the mountains and the wolves, you will never be able to go far from here," after stealing his documents, his identity, and his letter of credit (money). "Everything that may have brought you home has been taken away by me. You are a stranger and destitute, so no one will help you. Give up, you can't go home."

It's truly wild isn't it?

It's the powerful image of abuse portrayed from a single journal, a purposeful attempt at breaking the human psyche. What kind of paper trail would lead anyone to Dracula's castle? The locals are terrified of him, the romani are under his control at claw point, and the castle seems to exist in a liminal standing between reality, and hallucination so what does it serve to make Jonathan a ghost in living paper? To make Jonathan spiral more inside those stone walls with doors that won't open.

Dracula is a vampire who is so human that it is scary. Who cares about the lizard climbing when he keeps invanding Jonathan's personal space, who cares about the lack of servants when the Count forces Jonathan to believe how he just fell asleep, how his sleep schedule is suited for the night, how his duty is not finished unless Dracula says it's finished. Why does any vampirism matter when the Count's greatest weapon is his understanding on human rules.

Unlike Draula, the Weird Sisters are what is the mythical notion of "monster". They are the dreamy stalkers that roam the night hunting humans, they are the strigoi, they are the shadows of the moon, what Dracula has an addition in the supernatural, the Sisters embody it entirely. They don't feel different from Dracula, the Count is the different one, how come the ones that came from the original seem to be far more merciful in their monstrousness. Why does he insist in games? Why does he let the prey stay alive one more day?

This is why he is so despicable, why he is the villain, and not a simple antagonist. Dracula is not an inhumane monster drinking blood to survive, he is a humane abuser that loves breaking down a younger and powerless being emotionally. None of his mental games are necessary to survive, or to keep Jonathan captive, he does it because he just wants to. Dracula enjoys the suffering, he enjoys those looks of despair in Jonathan's eyes as he burns the letter just like how an abusive husband enjoys breaking his wife's precious belongings. It's a power play, it's social conventions, it's economic imbalance, it's gothic gender roles breathing down on Jonathan's neck as he must smile while Dracula puts his hand on his shoulder, overly familiar and so degrading my good friend.

One could literally take the vampirism off the Count, and he still would be a terrifying person. He is a wealthy noble man in a land where his fortune, and social standing gives him free reign to terrorize anyone unlucky enough to catch his attention. Dracula is not an inhumane monster, Dracula is the most human right here in the castle as he dares Jonathan to break their challenged standing with a movement of his eyebrows, but in a way that satifies him without Jonathan actually making an attempt of breaking their new status quo, he is just a puny human, he should know his place.

[1800duckhotline]

3, 11, 14 for Mondo Vuoto ^_^

from this ask game

for context, mondo vuoto is a category on my toyhouse in which are categorized a bunch of my ocs, including sub-categories, and generally it is a contemporary-modern setting that is timeline wise encapsulated from the late 1800's to recent times. it's a very "what if certain supernatural events were caused by radiation and aliens, actually" sort of thing.

3.) any recurring images/elements?

surprisingly enough the theme of not being in control of your body, and feeling like/literally having another being "possess" you and "be part of you" from the inside keeps popping up. the lack of self-confidence and being unable to trust oneself. or the opposite on the same spectrum, being so confident in oneself and their abilities that it ultimately morphs into a hubris that will in turn cause a catastrophe and loss of self. there's middle grounds, but these seem to be recurring themes in my characters in this world.

also by accident somewhat a lot of alien-y kind of space supernatural facts, as well as VERY pseudoscientific, comic-inspired lore where "aliens have caused a lot of shit but the aliens aren't like grey aliens they're like rocks and liquids that are sentient".

I unfortunately am a fan of superhero comics, but what I love about them is the utter confidence in which some lore is written to be fun and not always to Make Sense, even if sometimes it does, just enough to give it some depth.

11.) give a general summary of the plot/world/characters.

mondo vuoto itself isn't a story but rather an encompassing worldbuilding situation, though there are some stories set in it (such as the infamous salice story, vermiculous (jenica's) and so on)

im not sure which story to pick but if youre curious to hear more in detail you can ask me about it in another ask! there's a few of them

assassin union (not a story, a group of characters)

kitschionage (specific story set in the early 70s)

vermiculous (jenica's story, set in early-mid 2000s?)

necrologio (salice's story, set in circa 1995)

a 20th century tale (story i need to revamp set in the 80s)

the angels' blessing (set in the late 1800s)

and there's an unnamed project so far where i remake a bunch of 19th century horror novel protagonists into lesbians who are NASCAR racers, one of which is Eden, but he will have at least 2-3 more "friends" to hang out with once i figure shit out

14.) whats your favorite part of this story/project?

i can kind of do whatever i want with it... and it can be comicky and a bit lame and funny... i try not to overdo it of course... but i like throwing in here some supernatural tropes and trying to remake them to make it all make sense in my mind's eye

the lore for demons, angels and witches is very fun so far from what i imagined, even though it is basically 90% in my head

[starshipsofstarlord]

All mine

liam dunbar x reader / masterlist

summary; alec, scott’s new beta has a thing for liam’s girl, and sufficed to say, liam is anything but happy about the predicament / warnings; jealousy, smut, some choking, fucking in a playground, daddy kink, mentions of masturbation, mentions of phone sex, mentions of exhibitionism, oral sex (fem receiving).

the boy with anger issues was feeling a rage boil in his veins; they were in scott’s home, he had came back from college for a break, and thus, alec had joined in meeting with their alpha, though, not all his attention was reprised upon said pack leader.

there was a movie flashing upon the screen, you sat cross legged on the couch, whilst liam had been sent to the kitchen to grab a bowl of popcorn. he could feel his hand putting amble pressure on the plastic bowl, as he watched you explain every dumb thing occurring in the motion picture film.

alec was acting clueless on purpose, he could tell, more so since when he had first joined the pack, he had made such moves on you. and spoiler, eventually they had been successful. you were the same age as scott, meaning that you too had returned to beacon hills for your half term clause in the higher education, and liam wanted you to spend every moment with him, not this stray.

it took all his supernatural strength to restrain the growl threatening to rumble from his chest, his claws bent into the flesh of his palms, drawing a pooling of blood to the tether down from the self inflicted wound. scott smelt the blood, and wrinkled his nose at the scent that invaded his nostrils; he thought liam had his issues under control, but supposedly not entirely.

he couldn’t help himself, alec was trying his best, slyly glancing down your top, and he got he was only a hormonal teenage boy, same as him, but you were his girl. a rumble, resembling the natural force of thunder echoed around the living space, drawing all eyes, human and otherwise, in his direction.

the growl that had erupted from his chest had been possessive, a warning to the young, adopted beta, who quickly adjourned his arm away from the back of the couch, and shuffled from right beside you.

“li, are you good?” in an instant you removed yourself from where you were sat, walking towards him, and smoothing his shoulders over with your palms, watching as he heavily breathed. amber eyes flickered up to you, making you gulp; you now understood what had him so relentless and blunt with his aggression.

“i want to leave.” it wasn’t a question, it was a defiant statement. in turn, you nodded, grasping anything you needed, such as you jacket, and pulling it over your arms, liam quickly heading out, without bidding either of the boys a goodbye.

“see ya.” you waved at the pair, you would apologise for liam’s behaviour later to scott, he of course understood the situation nevertheless, he had been his alpha for a long time now. a hand grasped you as soon as you exited, pillowing roughly into your skin as he dragged you down the street, his pace quick and daring.

“you think i didn’t notice that beta’s eyes drifting down to your cleavage or him practically pawing for your attention.” he had stopped the two of you outside of a playground, you gulped, listening to him with an adjacent inclination.

“liam, there’s no need to be jealous.” your words had the priority of calming his angered exterior, though it happened that you had done rather the opposite. there was a firm line deposited between his dark brows, a frown that was aimed towards you directly.

“me, jealous? oh no, i know that you’re mine, but it comes to the question, do you?” he bit his lip, tensing the bridge of his nose as he moved his face closer to your own. “for all i know, at college, you don’t even let anyone know that you’re in a relationship, it could be your little secret, so you can fuck whomever you want.”

“that’s something i’d never do, you know that!” his accusations were flimsy, that much was liable, though although knowing that all his words came out of a place of secluded insecurity, you still felt the necessity to defend yourself. if you played his game, it would make him subconsciously doubt himself, and possibly believe the things that he was saying were true.

“do i?” the beta pried. liam made directories closer towards you, taking steps to discern your defence, letting his hand ravel up, and close around the front of your neck. your breath instantly hitched, as he wordlessly stated the power he had over you; not to mention, he was stronger, and he was irked, meaning that he would go to any lengths to prove his point, or lack of one.

“liam.” your hands came up to scratch at the exterior of his, worried that he would do some prominent damage, but rather than releasing his grip, he tightened his fist, triggering a hitch in your breath, and a uncoordinated, surprising moan to fly from your lips, as though your body was inherently howling at him for more.

“does my girlfriend like that? i think she likes daddy having his hand around her throat, don’t you baby? are you daddy’s dirty girl?” his slick words made your brain disintegrate into a contortion of confusion; more specifically, riddled with uncertainty, searching for a reason as to why his mature words were affecting you so.

there was no question about the matter, he was well adorned with the specifics of how it was affecting you. the reverberating of your heart thumped in his ears, like drums of a sacred matter, telling him how your hormones crazed, thundering with potential submission, that alternately had your knees quaking, fighting to remain standing.

then, there was the intoxicating aroma that scaled up to his nose from between your legs. that alone was a dead give away, he was lucky that it hadn’t killed him in the dead of night yet. being apart from you for so long had drove him borderline insane, one touch from you had him swooning, wanting nothing more for your hands to drift and intimately pet him.

phone calls, as erotic as some of them were, was just enough. the two of you were sectioned off for education in different counties, the distance pained him, in more ways than one. sometimes he’d wake up with a throbbing appendage between his thighs, begging for attention, more specifically, yours.

his hand got by, completing the job, but it wasn’t the same as the feeling of your sweet velvet walls encasing him likes an umbrella pouch, hugging his shaft tight as he rammed his length inside of you, preening moans of ecstasy out of your sinful mouth. the thought of such scenarios would have hun instantly hard in the school showers, leaving him frustrated for the rest of the day.

and though you had returned for a couple of weeks, he remained prominently stressed, never having enough contact with your skin that he had missed so much. he wished for nothing more than to spend it in a godforsaken rut, trapping you in the confines of his bed as he thrust in and out of you, but it so happened that isn’t how your return had panned out.

the luxury of the bed was not present, in its place was the soft breeze prickling at your skin, making every lingering, and restraining touch that he gave to it that more sensual. it was like nature was biting at your skin, plucking up the courage to adorn your flesh in small bumps, coercing your nipples into being erect, although, that was admittedly not all down to the wispy air.

your boyfriend had turned you on, his methods of doing so far different from anything that he had ever embraced before. whom would have ever thought that the once youngest member of the mccall pack would not forlorn in his youth, but instead want to demean his title as something as sexual as ‘daddy’? you sure as didn’t, but you couldn’t deny, it was kind of hot.

okay, more than hot, a lot more. “answer me y/n.” that’s right, you had gotten swept away with this whole new side to your partner, to say that you were drooling was an understatement, if he pointed it out, you’d blame it on him choking you. choking you! damn, he really had been reading up on some kinky shit whilst you were away.

“i do.” it was an honest answer, traded from you to him. though, it wasn’t entirely what he wanted to hear, you recognised that as he promptly squeezed your air way, causing your tongue to dip out of your mouth as you momentarily gasped for an ounce of breath. to spare you a second to respond, he pardoned his grip, stroking down the side of your face with the back of his stern hand.

“answer properly this time babe, else, i’ll fuck you over the swing set.” gulping, you locked eyes with liam, rubbing your thighs together at his prospect, inhaling heavily, as you felt him soothe his thumb rub upon the crevice of your chin, moisturising your own saliva into your skin.

“i love you choking me, daddy.” the word had a strange affect on your body as it rolled almost effortlessly off your tongue. instantly, verbalising the phrase had you feeling meek under the cold gaze of your boyfriend, a smirk ruling his face, as he clasped his knuckles into the dips of your waist, tugging you close.

“good girl.” he ushered the words into your ear as though he were a pro at doing so, lowering his palms to grab both your ass cheeks, a shocked squeal clawing out of the colander of your throat. “but i’m still going to fuck you over it, and i expect you to grasp onto the chains like you’re holding on for your life, and wail like a banshee that you are all mine.”

a slither of a sound, radiating utter betrothal escaped your withering lips, it was something between noise of a whimper, and a small moan. liam took that, and rightfully so, as approval to proceed with his intentions, and thus, he lead you through the gravel of the empty playground, directing his footsteps to the swings, and pushing you to be in front of him.

he bent your waist a little, so that you were hunched over, offering the perfect angle to generate pleasure for the both of you, as he began to tug your jeans down, letting the tight material meet with the croons of your ankles, and remain tethered around them.

“shit, you’ve already soaked through your panties baby.” liam soothed his fingers over the wet patch that opted through the thin material, brushing directly over your sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your mouth to wantonly drop open, in a silent beckon for more. “i can smell you too, you know, and damn, do you smell fucking divine.”

“daddy please.” the beg fell comfortably from you, there was no sudden recital to saying it once more. peculiarly, it felt natural, the dynamic between you and your partner being a stable structure to begin exploring further aspects that spectated in intimacy.

“sit on the seat, daddy will help you out darling.” trailing around the side of the metal structure, you carefully strode to do as liam has said, perching your ass on the swing, it lightly swaying from the impact of your weight upon the small dipped hammock. “there we go.”

liam knelt, scathing his covered knees upon the ground, as he ran his eager palms along the insides of your thighs, plucking at the band of your panties, before shuffling them down far enough so that he had all the access that he hungered for. the brisk whim that waded through the nighttime air had your pussy clenching, feeling the cold integrate against your folds, as liam puckered his lips.

he blew hot air upon your labia, enforcing your grip around the malleable metal chains to tighten, as you lightly shuffled the way that you were sat, spreading your legs a little wider, as your toes scratched relentlessly inside your socks, digging the front of your sneakers into the tarmac below.

your boyfriend leant forwards, swiping his tongue up your folds, causing you to press your head back, as you airily sighed from the contact, loving the way that his tongue delved around the area of your clit, swirling the bud in his mouth, as his teeth gently pinched the sensitive fumble of flesh.

“li- ah, daddy.” he had nipped at your outer lips, serving his actions as a form to correct how you had labelled him. “fuck, you’re so good with your tongue- shit.” his tongue slipped down into your entrance, thrusting the part of himself in and out of you, as you almost fell out of the swing seat.

“mmh.” your so called daddy hummed, sucking once more on your clit, before pulling his head away, as he stood, dragging you with him to force you to stand, delving his saturated tongue into the depths of your mouth, giving you no other option than to taste yourself on his buds. “what do you say baby?” his hand crawled into your hair as he bit his lip, staring with heavy lids at your flushed expression.

“thank you daddy.” a strong nod, he swiftly rotated you around, giving a light smack to your ass cheek, pinching the flesh, as he hurriedly undressed his bottom half, after fishing a loose packaged condom out of his back pocket. his tongue toyed with his top lip, as he ripped open the plastic square, rolling the condom onto his erect cock, giving himself a couple of jerks, as he steadied himself behind where you had hunched over once more.

he grasped his heavy cock, sliding his length through your smothered folds, teasing you as he tapped your clit, resting his hips flush against your own, as he pressed inside of you, causing an elongated string of obscene sounds to cast out of your mouth, playing a tune out of your melodically fawned lips.

a grunt tore itself out of his chest, as he clenched his fine jaw, digging his thumbs into your ass cheeks, as he began to move; delving deep within you, before pulling out of your tight walls, and rutting himself back inside of you. “fuck, feels so good da- ah!”

your natural sounds of pleasure drowned the surrounding area in an epitome of adulterated musings. adjoined with the sounds of liam’s skin slapping against your own, it was a surprise that no one had intervened, nor walked by. though, liam would have heard if they were in a nearby radius, with his supernatural hearing, that he had gotten through a set of canines digging urgently into his wrist, as he hung solemnly off the side of the hospital.

“you’re all mine, you hear that? those frat boys can keep their pervy gazes off of my girl, otherwise i guess i’ll just have to pay you a visit, and fuck you loud enough for anyone to hear.” he began panting, flowing his breath down upon your lower back. “yeah, you like that idea baby girl, how about i take over in the lecture hall and bend you over that desk, drilling into your tight cunt in front of every one so that they know that you belong to me?”

his half conceived promises, his taunting of you had you rolling closer to the edge, backing your hips backwards as you urgently met with his thrusts, forcing him to hip deeper into your cervix, a light growl prowling out of his chest, as he leant against you, angling his waist lower as he thrust upwards, his chest flat against your back.

“yes- fuck! please daddy, i wou- love that. love for you to fuck me for everyone to see, fill me with your cum, make me cu-um.” his heated breath strained against your skin, as your eyes fluttered, feeling succumbed to a white flush inside your veins, your body halting with it’s stability, resting helplessly over the swing seat, a she kept you steady.

“all mine.” your boyfriend stated, as he made you fall over the edge, ravenously thrusting into you to chase his own high. “gonna fucking cum.” a minor roar yelped out of his mouth, as his eyes strung shut, his shoulders relaxing as he emptied his seed into the condom, pulling out of your sopping cunt, as he removed the layer of protection, throwing it successfully in a bin a few feet away.

hazily, you went to stand, liam helping you pull your bottoms up, as he did so to himself too. he held you up, as he hoisted a passionate kiss onto your lips, a satisfied smile on his face once he pulled away. “i miss you so much when you’re away, i love you y/n/n.”

an appeased expression faulted your expression, as you reached up to entwine your hands together at the back of his neck. “i’m all yours li, or should i call you daddy?” you teased, causing a blush to fathom the apples of his cheeks. he looked down, an embarrassed poise covering his face.

“shut up.” he jokingly prompted, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he began to walk you home, as you continued to tease him about his newly revealed kink, or multiple.

[whump-a-la-mode]

this is such a general thing but defiant villain whumpee slowly breaking pls :)

Thank you so much for the ask!! I hope this is slow enough. It's not exactly the traditional whumpee breaking, but I hope it's interesting nonetheless! Feel free to send in another ask if you want something different ^^

CW//Talk of mass destruction, sleep deprivation torture, brief pet whump mention, forced to eat gross food

"It's over."

There was a weariness to the newscaster's voice-- the kind that those in the profession were never meant to display. The sheer essence of bone-deep exhaustion. A body squeezed dry of adrenaline, until fight or flight turned to fatigue.

But, the fight was won.

"For the last three days, we have been running twenty four hour coverage of the battle occurring downtown. The battle began when Villain's forces attempted to overrun an R&D lab, following the occupation of their original headquarters by our city's heroes.

The destruction has been uncountable. But, it's over.

After a final assault at three in the morning, today, the last of Villain's personal guard fled the stronghold, and were taken into captivity. An hour later, the menace themself was captured.

It's over.

What exactly will be done with Villain is unclear, but Leader has assured us that appropriate measures have been prepared for their secure containment.

As for us? At long last, goodnight Metropolis."

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"And good morning, sleepyhead."

Villain could not help but wince as light washed over them in a boiling wave-- the warmth of darkness torn away from them-- as the back doors of the truck were swung open.

"You're making the biggest mistake of your life." They snapped back, hoping the venom in their voice reached its recipient, standing at the truck's mouth.

Hero.

Of course, of all people, their welcoming committee had to be fucking Hero. The biggest asshat Metropolis had to offer. The worst, most stupidly noble, stupidly loyal, stupidly-

Their fury reached a boiling point to which enraged thoughts turned incoherent. It did not matter why they hated the idiot standing before them. It mattered only that anger alone made their veins feel as though they were overflowing with magma.

"Am I?" The noble fool cocked their head to the side, mocking and arrogant. "Or are you just upset that you've lost?"

"You think I've lost?" Villain let out a hearty chuckle. "All this effort, and you've caused me a minor setback, at most."

"Well, which one of us in the cage?"

They narrowed their eyes to slits. Hero was right. They were both staring through the bars of a cage, but Villain was very much the one contained. It was a tiny, steel construction. Large enough to stand up in, and take one step in each direction, but such was all.

Loaded into the back of a truck like some kind of zoo animal. They wanted to scream!

But, unlike the heroes, they could hold back.

"Me staying here to amuse you does not equate to defeat, Hero."

"Is that all you're doing? Humoring me?"

"Do you have any reason to believe otherwise?"

"Plenty." They smirked. "For one, sitting in the back of a truck for fourteen hours doesn't exactly seem like something you'd do to humor me."

Fourteen hours...

"Have you considered that I'm simply playing a long game?"

"It'll be the longest game of your life, then. Don't plan on getting out of here anytime soon. Or, y'know, ever. That's kind of the whole point."

"You really think you can hold me forever?"

"Oh, I know so. If you knew what was coming for you, you wouldn't be taking this so lightly."

"Oh, I'm so scared. What are you gonna do, give me a donut and tell me to hug this whole thing out?"

Hero chuckled, at that.

"Why don't you come and see for yourself?"

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"You're sure this will work?" Leader cocked a brow, hoping that the teeth marks in their lower lip weren't visible. It was a nervous habit, chewing like that.

"Certain." Scientist had a chipper tone to them-- a student having solved a math problem. "We've been developing this method for months. Trust me, they have no chance."

"None?"

"None. Even better, this technique is more than a simple containment method. It has a progressive weakening effect. Within a few months, they'll be like putty in your hand."

"You know we're talking about Villain here, right?"

"Precisely!"

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Villain had expected high security.

Of course they had. They'd quite frankly expected something ridiculous. A cell suspended over a pit of lava. Or a shark-infested pool. Or maybe they'd simply contain them through the power of sedatives.

None of the options sounded particularly enjoyable. But, all three sounded better than the room they stood in front of at that moment.

Six guards stood around them, each heavily armed, and not afraid to display this fact. Two stood on either side of them, each holding a chain attached to one of the twin manacles that adorned both their wrists-- they'd expected handcuffs, but two shackles per wrist seemed a little excessive. The two remaining guards stood with one in front and one behind. Their chains were those connected to Villain's feet. One tug, and they'd be face-first on the tile.

The restraints didn't make them want to flee any less. Not when they saw that room. Even chained as they were, they squirmed at the very sight of what stood before them.

It was rather large, though not ostentatiously so. Though, its size was accentuated by the complete lack of furniture lining the walls.

No. There were only two things inside the chamber.

The first stood at the center. A massive, metal ring, perhaps ten feet in height and the same in width. Four cylinders of the same material extended into the circle's center, looking terribly like hungry mouths.

One for each wrist, one for each ankle.

They were going to be splayed out like a bearskin carpet. Not to mention the vulnerability... With their limbs spread in every which direction, everything would be exposed. Their stomach, their back, their head. And they would be without a hope of retaliation.

It was a terrifying thought, but the elaborate restraint was nothing compared to the other thing inside the chamber.

Light.

There must have been a thousand of them. Shimmering, dazzling lights. On the ceiling, on the walls, some even on the floor.

It had not been since Villain's childhood that light had truly affected them. The manifestation of their abilities had coincided with the appearance of their acute sensitivity to the sun. Such was to be expected' a supernatural ability to move through places dark and shadowed, to control the shroud as though it were a thing rather than an absence did not exactly leave one looking forward to the sunrise.

Yet, they were not a vampire. Through gradual acclimation, they had learned to become comfortable with normal levels of light exposure. Spending a few hours under the sun's rays was not a problem, nor was existing within an indoor space, dominated by artificial lamps and LEDs.

But that room...

Villain could not take it. In desperation, they pulled, tugging on the restraints that dangled around them like tails. But, even they were no match for six men.

And, thus, they entered.

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"Now, I can see you weren't lying!"

The voice startled Villain, sent a jolt through their chest, but it did nothing to raise their head or open their eyes. Not immediately. Lifting their gaze was a task accomplished with a considerable amount of effort, and unveiling their eyes from their lids made their corneas feel to have been pierced by searing blades.

They could hardly see Hero, through the blazing lights.

"You really were trying to humor me. This is hilarious!"

It was with a terribly uncomfortable feeling that they felt fury overtake their fatigue.

"It's only been six days. I can play the long game."

"Is that why you've been hanging around?"

Though they tried, in their manacles, it proved impossible to ball their fists. The metal fit too closely around their fingers, contoured to not allow the slightest shadow of movement.

"Maybe it is, Hero. Maybe it is."

"Maybe." The Hero took a step forth, then another, until they were mere inches from their captive nemesis. "They've really done something here, huh? Ya' can hardly move an inch."

"There's a difference between not being able to and not wanting to."

"Is that so?"

Hero placed a chilled hand on their nemesis' side-- just above their hip, where their range of movement was the most limited by their splayed limbs.

Villain's heart leapt as they felt a tiny spark, jolting through their chest.

Suffering a direct blow from their nemesis was a fate they had only endured a handful of times. Now, there was nothing to protect them from it. Not even the adrenaline of battle.

"They say you're gonna give up, y'know." Hero trailed their hand, up and down Villain's taut skin. "I think they're betting on it, up in HQ. It's only a matter of time. We can all see you're getting weaker. Tired. You aren't great at hiding it."

"What I'm good at is acting."

"You're saying this is all an act? So you won't mind if I do... this?"

That time, the feeling was more of a spark.

Villain's scream echoed throughout the chamber, but there was no one to hear them but the light.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Hey! Get up. Can't you hear me?"

Of course Villain could hear Hero. They'd been hearing their stupid voice every single one of these last...

How many days had it been?

They couldn't remember. Too many.

"There's a difference between hearing and listening."

"I thought this whole breaking you thing would be more fun."

"I'm sorry that I'm not entertaining you."

"Nah, I don't think seeing you strung up like this will ever get old." Like a child, Hero laughed. "Anyways, I brought you some food. It's fish!"

Villain hated fish.

But, struggling would mean opening their eyes. Looking at the light.

And, thus, they ate.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Come on."

A sharp vibration rattled through the restraint frame, and, consequently, to the cores of Villain's bones. But, they did not move.

"I know you can hear me. So get up!"

Hero kicked the frame again, but received the same reaction.

"I thought you were playing the long game. I'm looking for some payoff, here. This new Villain is boring."

Maybe.

Maybe they were boring.

But they didn't have the energy to be anything else. Not anymore.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━���━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"What did I tell you?" Scientist smirked. "Like putty in your hand!"

"I still don't understand how you did it." Leader shook their head. "The biggest threat to the city..."

"Oh, it was easy. They've got those weird dark powers, yeah? So they aren't hurt by the light. Not exactly. But, when there's lights on, they can't sleep! Not a wink. You could leave 'em outside and give 'em the keys to your own car, and they still wouldn't be able to escape."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. By the way, who won the betting pool?"

"Engineering department. They said three months, they were the closest. You're saying they haven't slept in three months?"

"Yep! There's not much left of the old Villain anymore, though. So... I mean, now, they can be whatever you want them to be. Do you have any ideas?"

"Hm..." Leader drummed their fingers against the wall. "I have always wanted a bodyguard."

"I thought you always wanted a dog."

"True, true."

"So... why not both?"

"You have a technique for that too?"

"Yep!"

[kpoptrashlord-007]

Hide && Seek;; YHW

Word Count;; 3.5k

Genre;; HORROR

Pairing;; Hwanwoong x Reader

Summary;;

Inside this grand, lavish hotel and its sparkling veneer of respectability, you find yourself playing the role of the feline in a little game of cat and mouse. Your opponent? Hwanwoong, the man with the angelic smile and carefree eyes. The further you chase him, however, the harder it is to settle your nerves. The line between predator and prey is blurring and you can't help but wonder who exactly is pursuing who.

Warnings;;

TW// Blood, Character Death (random side character), Supernatural and Dark Themes!! Graphic depictions of violence! I’m serious here! It’s a bit intense. NOT for the light of heart (or stomach). Oh, and explicit language.

Please be mindful of these warnings as this features EXPLICIT violence.

Notes;;

Day Nine of the Halloween 2k20 Prompts! ~Monster~

My Masterlist

   You've had too much to drink.

   With a cloudy mind, you stumble after your companion. Your feet drag as you lag behind him. You pass many doors but he doesn't stop. Further down the hall and deeper into the building you travel, long past the area of the hotel reserved for guests.

   His silky hair bounces every time he turns to you. After what feels like an eternity staring at the back of his head, you appreciate the fleeting glimpses of gleaming eyes and that cheeky smile he flashes your way. He's keeping an eye on you, making sure you don't wander off in your drunken haze. That much is obvious but you don't mind, not really. In return you are dutiful in your pursuit of him.

   You can't recall where he is taking you. With half a mind to ask, your mouth falls open only to snap shut - he's looking back at you now with such an intensity that all you can do is stare in return. There's something swirling deep within his eyes but you can't pinpoint it; you can't put your finger on what emotion is prevalent in his gaze as it bears into your soul.

   Seconds crawl by.

   One foot in front of the other, you're on autopilot as you follow him without a thought of your own, your mind zeroing in on the burning intensity of his stare. He pulls you deeper into his hypnotic, hungry eyes with every step all the while leading you deeper into the bowels of the hotel. For some reason you trust him and you don't question the dubious situation despite this being the first night you've met.

   There's a familiarity about him that lures you.

   You come across a red sign and some yellow tape. He steps over it so you do too, tripping over your own feet to catch back up to him as his pace quickens. He disappears around a corner and you chase him. You're always hot on his trail and yet you remain so far behind.

   Your hand slides down the wall as you round the corner. Chips of paint slough off and embed within the soft flesh of your palm. With a hiss of pain, you look down. Tiny beads of blood well around the points of impact, each marked by stiff, sharp shards of paint.

   If you pull them out now, sure, it'll sting, but leaving them in will only cause misery later alongside a possible infection.

   With your mind set, you get to work. It's a struggle to remove the tiny pieces but you try nonetheless. They're small and fragile, breaking before you have a chance to remove the whole fragment but you don't give up. Piece after piece, you pick and scrape into the tender, sensitive skin.

   Blood flows more freely now. It's hard to see the paint when there's so much blood leaking out of the growing gashes but you're stubborn. You don't leave jobs half-done and you can feel more of the tiny shards just beneath the skin, taunting you. They slip deeper the further your nails chase them.

   As if they're makeshift pliers, your middle finger and thumb stretch open the skin while your pointer finger digs deep, blood and flesh pulsing from the assault.

   "Having fun?"

   You stop dead in your tracks.

   Rubbing your eyes in an attempt to clear away the alcohol-induced haze, you frown. Hwanwoong is nowhere to be seen. You squint as you scour, searching up and down from the cracked floor to the peeling ceiling, but find no clues as to his whereabouts.

   Brushing it off, you look back down to your palm and the involuntary shiver that rocks your whole body leaves you trembling.

   It's sobering.

   The complete lack of blood, paint splinters, and cuts is sobering.

   "Funny, isn't it?"

   "What the fuck?"

   It's a whisper meant to be consumed by the thundering silence and yet you know he heard it. He's lingering. Nowhere to be seen but everywhere at once, Hwanwoong is both near and far. You can't wrap your head around it.

   Then there's the shift in the hall that is plain inexplicable. Up is down and down is... gone. You haven't any proof, just a gut feeling, but it's enough and you worry that if you do check, there will be nothing at all. Will you fall, then, like a cartoon character who has just realised they're running on air? Will you plummet right through the floor, tumbling out of reality in your pursuit of Hwanwoong?

   Where did he go?

   Dropping your hand out of view, you consider it lost to you now. Anything below the waist feels numb, as if it has merged with the darkness you suspect 'down' has become. Eye level seems safe enough so you gaze from side to side.

   It isn't how you remember it to be.

   The wall is pristine. There are no cracks. The paint isn't sloughing off. Nary a blemish marks the white, clean walls on either side of you. It's dangerous to let your eyes wander and yet you have no real control over yourself. They drift up and down, still cautious of the ceiling and floor but eager to solve this mystery all the same.

   Turning your head, you gaze back at the corner where you had injured yourself. At least you thought you had. There is no bend or corner there, just a straight pathway leading you to…

   You gulp, taking a step backward.

   At the end of the hallway there's a room you wish to avoid.

   At the end of the hallway there's a door that beckons to you.

   It whispers the promise of death.

   Snapping around once more, you run. You run and you run and you run until your lungs cannot bear it any longer and your heart threatens to burst out of your chest. No matter how far you go, there's no exit.

   Gulping down air while resting against the wall, your nails dig into the plaster in an attempt to keep your body from collapsing down into the void. It comes up to your knees and the longer you stay still, the harder it is to move. Your head wobbles and shakes with every breath before your eyes flutter close.

   Just a quick breather you tell yourself, knowing full well that if you don't snap out of this reverie, you'll fall headfirst into the madness consuming you.

   "Should we play?"

   The gasp bubbling free from deep within dissipates beneath the constriction of your throat. Nails impale themselves into the tender flesh of your neck. The higher you're lifted, the stronger his grasp becomes. Blood pools in your feet. Your body shakes. Your mind screams. Your eyes open.

   But there's nothing.

   Checking your neck for blood, you find it isn't even sore to the touch. Before you is that endless hallway but not a living presence is nearby. Hwanwoong is nowhere to be seen, though this fact doesn't surprise you any longer.

   When your senses return to you, you're gazing at the floor. The same floor you feared mere moments ago. The carpet is ugly but otherwise harmless. There's no hell awaiting you and there's no darkness devouring you inch by inch. Releasing a shaky exhale, you risk turning back to face it.

   Your nightmare.

   The door.

   Carved out within the wall at the end of the hall, it waits for you. Despite how far you've tried to run away from it, it remains just where it has always been. From beneath the threshold you see the edge of the refracted light, its pattern dancing and shimmering. It's a taunt handmade for you.

   You take a step forward. Unlike your futile attempt to escape in the other direction, the gap shortens. You take another step. There's several indents in the wall lining the way. They're the perfect size for a door and yet when you run your hand along the edges, there's no air nor light seeping through. A solid wall greets your shoulder when you try to force a new entryway.

   While inching closer to the final door and its kaleidoscope of sparkling light, you pound against the hall and all its false doors. Nothing budges and nothing gives. It isn't until you turn to cross the hall, intent on scouring the other side for a hole or error in the design, that you notice the infinite shards of reflective light and how they flood the hallway. Splashes of bright light dance across your skin. Eerie silence follows.

   The door is ajar.

   Reaching out, the tip of your fingers graze against the metallic overcoat. It's old and rough to the touch. You want to pull back, to turn around and escape this personalised hell, but the room is summoning you. It's a call to judgement and you daren't ignore it. You must atone.

   The door creaks once your palm meets it. Though it looks heavy, it flies wide open with a single push. A tidal wave of light bursts through. Your heartbeat escalates.

   It's impossible.

   What you see is impossible and yet your past is here in vivid detail. From the view of the snow-capped mountains in the distance and the much closer fog over the outdoor jacuzzi to the soft jams of his radio and the desperate splashing of water to the stinging chlorine that, even now, burns your nose. It's all the same - right down to that fucking shimmering pool and the woman in it.

   "Should we play some more?" Hwanwoong purrs.

   His body presses against your own and you can feel the way it shakes with every syllable, as if he is brimming with excitement. For once, you know he's truly here with you. Whether 'here' is within the halls of the hotel or back inside that rich psycho's mansion isn't clear to you, however.

   Perhaps you hadn't been the one to walk away after all.

   "Have you been bad? Should I punish you?"

   There's no room between your bodies but that doesn't stop you from trying to push past him, to squirm around him, to force him out of the room with the sparkling, refractive light and the secret it holds.

   "Nah-uh, not so fast cutie." He smiles at you and your feeble attempt to move him. "Let's play a game."

   "No!"

   "Huh?"

   "I don't want to! I need to get out of here, you don't underst-"

   "But you don't even know what the game is yet," he pouts, gripping a fistful of your hair and stopping you dead in your tracks. With how tight his hold is, there's no doubt that the shearing burn exploding outward from the roots is your hair ripping from your skull. You can't silence the scream that escapes your quivering lips.

   There's a voice in the back of mind that tells you to endure, to experience firsthand what you put her through.

   Whether from blood or sweat, you feel a sticky dampness forming along your hairline. He loosens his grip once the tears flow down your face like a broken faucet. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he shakes his head and murmurs something. You can't make out the words over the pounding of blood within your ears. It takes a few minutes before you're able to think straight and he waits for you the whole time, content to just watch.

   "What-" you hiss through the dulling pain, "-game?"

   "You're so resilient. I like that about you, sweet cheeks. Let's play… hide and seek. Do you know how to play?" He waits for a response and the jerk of your head suffices. Satisfied that you're paying attention, he grins. There's something ethereal about him and the way his skin glows and his eyes shine. It's no wonder you had followed him so willingly. He just seems so safe. Angelic, even. "Then go hide, silly."

   With a push, you find yourself stumbling into the room with its giant pool and hypnotising effects. Unable to remain upright, you slip. The poolside puddles turn red when your cheek kisses the ground and blood spills forth from the piece of your tongue you damn near bite off.

   There's a sharp stinging pain in your thigh. Deep within your pant pocket is a solid, round secret. It digs into your leg, bruising the skin down to the bone, and you wince as you stand. From pure reflex you grasp it and hold it in place, scared to lose it.

   "I didn't think it would be us," the woman cries, sliding down the white walls and crumpling to the floor.

   "Better us than the others," you mumble out of instinct, following along with the memory.

   "I don't want to hurt you!" She's full on bawling now, tears and snot flowing down her face. You stand and wipe away the blood seeping from your split lip and torn tongue before spitting the excess into the pool. The water looks beautiful. It's gleaming and bright, unlike the last twenty-one hours.

   "Better you than the others."

   Dragging your injured foot, you approach her. She ignores your towering presence and focuses on staring into one of the little black cameras that have been watching the event unfold. You're running out of gas but she isn't faring much better.

   You can finish this.

   "Just let us go! Please, I don't want to die," she sobs, pleading with the red, blinking light on the camera. "We don't even care about the money."

   Whether it's because of the trust born from a promise made hours prior, back when the odds were tilted in a much more dire direction, or because she thinks she can bargain for her life, she continues to ignore you.

   What a mistake.

   There's killing intent in your aura. It consumes you. Even you can tell and you're quite new to this murder business. And if you can tell, she can tell. After all, before the event your lives were quite similar. Parallel, even. If you could adjust this fast, so could she.

   And yet she's crying on the floor and ignoring you, you with eyes devoid of empathy.

   You with a pool ball in your grasp.

   You with blood on your hands.

   You within striking distance.

   "We just want to live!"

   "Better me than you."

   Her desperate mewling ceases. Instead, her attention snaps to you. She can no longer ignore the threat you possess, not when you've released your weapon of choice from the soft material of your pants. Fear spreads across her dainty features like wildfire. Trying to escape the animosity spiraling over your form with your every step, she forces herself into a corner.

   "But we agreed not t-"

   Physics works in your favour. Velocity, force, and all that, but the semantics don't matter - all that matters is that the impact leaves a splatter and her body is limp. You discard the pool ball and it rolls away, leaving a trail of fresh blood in its wake. Red seeps deep into the grout between polished tiles.

   Relief strikes seconds after the realisation of your success dawns upon you.

   It is soon, however, drowned by the overwhelming sense of guilt.

   You may have won but at what cost?

   Her blood on your face stains you much deeper than the man's had. His attack had come as a surprise. It had been a fight for survival after a helping hand turned feral. You had no choice, not if you wanted to live, and by God you wanted to live. Not just to exist, but to explore and to enjoy and to possess.

   Avarice paints your skin in the darkest shade of red.

   Shooting two birds with one stone, you drag her to the poolside. Blood gushes from her forehead. It fills the room with an unmistakable and distasteful scent. Resisting the urge to recoil, you drop to your knees. Water soaks through your pants until dark wet spots cover your whole lower half. It's an uncomfortable sensation but you push it aside, instead focusing on the slight bobbing of her chest.

   She's the last of them.

   She's the final obstacle in your pursuit of wealth.

   And she's still fucking breathing.

   It takes a few seconds for her consciousness to return after you submerge her head beneath the surface. Her resistance starts immediately thereafter. She contorts and she struggles, pulling away from the iron-tight grip scarring her skull only to sink further into the depths of the pool. Your nails deep into flesh as you seek a more steady hold but you soon lose your footing to the slippery, polished tiles and topple onto her back.

   There's a loud crack and you know between your weight and the position she's found herself in with half of her body in the water and the other half flailing behind her that it is too much pressure for her fragile bones. Her ribs crack one by one, fracturing like the snap of a twig. She screams but the water consumes the sounds, rising bubbles the only evidence.

   From a deep shade of red to a soft pink, the water dilutes outward from the nonstop stream of blood gushing from her growing wounds.

   "I'm sorry, but I've come too far to care about you."

   The words are a reassurance to yourself. They serve as a reminder: this isn't who you are. You're a victim of circumstance. Someone had to do it so why not you? You've come too far to chicken out now. You've come too far to pity the ones that had to fall in order for you to rise.

   Your soul is malleable beneath the corruption of sin.

   Once her struggling ceases, you hold her down for a bit longer. When enough time passes that even an Olympic swimmer's lung capacity would fail them, you hold her down for a bit longer. Even though the blood no longer rushes forth and she's cold to the touch, you hold her down for a bit longer.

   It isn't until the room floods with light that you release her. Strands of her hair twist around your fingers as her body sinks into the depths. The further she descends, the deeper the darkness that consumes her becomes. You cannot see the bottom and soon she is lost to you, claimed by the cold void.

   A hand rests on your shoulder and you jump.

   This is when they escort you off the grounds, give you the money, and remind you of the contract.

   This is when the nightmare is supposed to end.

   For the first time, your memory alters. No blanket is wrapped around you nor is anyone calling your name, ushering you out of the battlegrounds. Instead the hand on your shoulder lifts to cradle your chin, tilting your head back to face your companion. A playful smile greets your widening gaze.

   "I found you," Hwanwoong coos, petting your cheek. "I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on you that guilt was eating you alive but this is always better than I could ever imagine."

   "Please let me go," you stammer, fear settling in the gut of your stomach.

   "Let you go? Do you not want me to clear you of this burden?"

   "No, please, I only did what I had to!"

   "Do you not want me to free you of this sin?"

   "I did nothing wrong! Surviving isn't a crime!"

   "Unfortunately for you, your opinion doesn't mean anything to me. 'I've come too far to care about you'," he mimics with a smirk. "I found you, just as I always do. And now…

   "The dawn of judgement is upon you."

   His palm meets your chest in a harsh push and you tumble. Even though your foot catches on the edge of the pool, it's much too slippery, too wet from your prior confrontation and you find yourself falling backward.

   '-just as I always do.'

   With widening eyes, you watch the ceiling blur above you. It's not what you expect of a pool room. In fact, you know it's not. Rather it's the white speckled panels of the hotel you had been stumbling around at three in the morning in a drunken haze as the years of guilt culminate in another reckless search for trouble, another desperate attempt to feel something.

   Is it still that same morning?

   Has time passed in a blink or has it frozen altogether?

   'I found you-'

   Just as he always does, he found you hiding within that same memory, stuck inside that single slice of hell. Just as he always does, he uses your weakness against you. He plays with you for a time until he gets bored of it all and sets you loose within the hotel.

   And then he plays with you anew.

   In this moment of falling, he allows you to remember. It's the final squeeze of pleasure he can extract from this iteration and he squeezes it dry. He watches fear born of knowledge contort your features and he indulges in it for as long as he can.

   Hwanwoong's soft, angelic face etches into your mind, replacing the gift of truth with a lie of familiarity and trust, and soon a fog covers your mind. Despite your unending descent, you close your eyes and embrace the calm washing over you in waves. Of your own volition, you forget.

   After all, the knowledge of one's eternal damnation is enough to destroy even the strongest mind.

[abirdonalilactree]

First gay ship I watched that actually became canon. (kinda toxic tho-)

Y'all remember the first time you saw your gay ship become canon? I suppose for many of you it was Supernatural. 

For me it was back in 2013 when the series finale of Rules of Engagement came out, which is pretty early if you are talking about gay stuff. Not only did we get a slowburn spanning over several seasons, it also ended in a gay wedding.

In this essay I will talk about why this ship is so important to me and why it also was toxic as feck.

The show is about two couples and their single friend, all at different stages in their relationships, deal with the complications of dating, commitment, and marriage. From season three on, there kinda is a slow burn until season seven ends with the two unmarried couples getting married as well.

What started as a horrible boss messing with his assistant turned into a surprising love story.

 I'm not sure why I came back to this series after so many years in the first place. Some of the jokes are quite offensive so here is a warning for that. But on the other hand, all episodes are up on YouTube for free soo… Right now, in the September of 2021 we have exactly 20 fics on Ao3 by amazing authors. We are a really small fandom. The show ended in 2013 but like three or four people are still here.

Let me introduce the main characters:

The married couple consists of Jeff and Audrey Bingham. Jeff has been a financial manager and husband of Audrey since 1995. He has a rather deadpan, cold and sardonic personality and sense of self, particularly when dealing with Russell and Adam, but he is not sadistic or unkind, thereby rendering these traits as merely ironic and biting humor. He loves sports, shuns anything that might resemble sensitivity and often views his marriage as a competition or war, refusing to let Audrey "win" the upper hand at anything.

Audrey is an editor at Indoor Living magazine before later resigning and the assertive, modern wife of Jeff. She tolerates her husband's insensitivity because she knows he is not malicious and will do whatever it takes to make the situation right once he realizes his mistake. As a couple, they both can be very condescending and manipulative towards each other, in order to gain the upper hand, and typically don't like to concede to the other that they were wrong.

Adam Rhodes, a sensitive and well-meaning, but extremely naive and super extremely stupid, co-worker of Russell and Timmy, and Jennifer's fiancé throughout the series until they are married in the series finale. He is a neighbor of Jeff and Audrey, looks up to Jeff, and often acts on Jeff's relationship advice -This usually results in making the situation worse for himself. Jennifer Morgan is the fiancée and eventual wife of Adam, who endures his faults because of his good looks. She is very self-conscious of him, and will often try to spare him from embarrassment.

Timir "Timmy" Patel was introduced in season 3 and became a season regular from season 4-7. He first appears when Russell hires him as his assistant.  Although he is fluent in seven languages and holds an MBA, Timmy is often forced to do menial work or to solve Russell's trivial problems which often annoys Timmy. While many of Russell's schemes disgust him, Timmy will often see them through so that he can enjoy Russell's deserved penalty. 

Russell Dunbar on the other hand is wealthy, only due to his trust fund, which he uses to impress and seduce women. He is presented as a seedy and sleazy man who only cares about how many women he can get. However, it is shown that he has a softer side. His relationships within the group are seemingly conflicted, many of the group dislike his behaviour and mock him, as they do everyone else, but it seems that he expresses just as much distaste for them as he does not choose to invite them places unless he needs them to. Through Timmy, he is analysed by a psychiatrist to have sociopathic tendencies which explains his destructive behaviour.

He is also self absorbed and immature.

...But the thing is sometimes he isn’t.

While all three relationships show a lot of signs of toxicity, Timmy and Russell’s relationship is certainly the most destructive one. Which is mostly Russell’s fault.

But let me show you.

From a psychological point of view, their relationship ticks most of the boxes of a toxic relationship.

Toxic communication

Instead of treating each other with kindness, most of their conversations are filled with sarcasm, criticism, or overt hostility. Yet sometimes kindness is in fact seeking through.

Jealousy

There is so, so much jealousy going on. Russell really does everything to not allow Timmy to get together with a woman. Although only as the show goes on, it becomes clear that Russell is jealous because he has fallen for Timmy.

Controlling behaviors

Russell is questioning where Timmy is all the time or becoming overly upset when he doesn’t immediately answer texts are both signs of controlling behavior, which can contribute to toxicity in a relationship. And it gets so much worse than that. But more to that later.

Resentment

Yes.

Dishonesty

Yes. ALL the time.

Patterns of disrespect

Being chronically late, casually “forgetting” events, and other behaviors that show disrespect for each other's time are a red flag. This makes it red flag number six. 

Constant stress

A normal amount of tension runs through every relationship, but finding oneself constantly on edge is an indicator that something’s off. Yet another red flag.

This ongoing stress can take a toll on the physical and emotional health of a person. Which is one hundred percent happening.

Ignoring needs

Going along with whatever one partner wants to do, even when it goes against the wishes or comfort level of the other one. From his first episode in the show on, Timmy is forced to do absurd stuff he doesn’t want to do and honestly no one should do for their boss.

Lost relationships

Stopping to spend time with friends and family, either to avoid conflict with a partner or to get around having to explain what’s happening in the relationship.

Hoping for change

One might stay in a relationship because they see the other person’s potential or think that if they just change themselves and their actions, their partner will change as well. And it’s the little moments when Russell shows for only moments the tiniest bit of being a good person that make Timmy stay with him.

Walking on eggshells

One worries that by bringing up problems, they’ll provoke extreme tension, so they become conflict avoidant and keep any issues to themselves.

Lack of support however is arguably not always one of their problems. But we’ll come back to that.

And still, they share their sweet moments.

The following clip, made by CBS itself shows really well how it is for them to work with each other.

https://youtu.be/GfPI3HgMYoI

And then there is character development. Here the group of friends talks about Jeff lying to his wife about another friends bachelor party because he doesn’t want to spend time with her aunt.

https://youtu.be/LQPIFcrBltQ

Russell doesn't want to get married, clearly. This clip also conveys pretty well how horrible those people are. 

There is this tension and the gay jokes. This clip also shows really well how manipulative Russell -tries- to be.

https://youtu.be/XkdycXzX4ag

And then there are moments like these: In season 6 Timmy wanted to impress a woman who only wants to date singers so Russell teaches him how to play the guitar with the ulterior motive of Timmy embarrassing himself in front of the whole company. This idea backfires when Russell realises that he can’t watch Timmy suffer like that and he joins on stage and they start this duet that’s like super gay.

https://youtu.be/UH3P_LfBBQo

To be with you by Mr Big is an interesting choice of song. -Not only because it’s quite romantic but also because the lyrics seem to be surprisingly fitting at second glance.

Let’s analyze it because Music is an important aspect.

“One of the great unrequited love songs, "To Be With You" has a true story behind it. Mr. Big lead singer Eric Martin wrote the song when he was still a teenager - 16 or 17 in his estimation. The girl was Patricia Reynolds, and he had it bad for her.

"We were really, really good friends," Martin said in a Songfacts interview. "I was totally enamored with this woman. She was beautiful. Smart. I mean, brains, beauty, break down the walls, made me crawl on my belly like a reptile!

I just loved this woman, but she just wanted to be my friend. She'd have tons of boyfriends, and maybe she misconstrued promiscuity for love. But I wanted to be the knight in shining armor. That's what I was, a knight in shining armor. But basically, I didn't get my feet wet. I wrote it about how I would have done anything to just be more than a friend and a confidante."”

-https://www.songfacts.com/facts/mr-big/to-be-with-you

So much to the history of the song. Do you see the parallels? Do you see them? Do you?

Anyway. When Russell joins Timmy on the stage, he starts with the lines:

Build up your confidence

So you can be on top for once

Wake up, who cares about

Little boys that talk too much

I think this has to be taken literally. Not sure how much I should go into detail here. 

This however brings us back to the point of support from our list earlier.

I've seen it all go down

The game of love was all rained out

So come on baby, come on over

Let me be the one to hold you

I'm the one who wants to be with you (I'm the one, yeah)

Deep inside I hope you feel it too (feel it too)

Waited on a line of greens and blues (waited on a line yeah)

Just to be the next to be with you

That’s kinda Gay.

There are jokes all over the seasons that Timmy and Russell are gay but it becomes most clear that Russell is in love with Timmy, in the last season, when Timmy leaves to go on vacation and Russell misses him so much that he gets a girlfriend and turns her into a copy of Timmy.

Things get worse when Timmy finds out that Russell completely lost his marbles and chipped him to always know his whereabouts. This finally makes Timmy leave the company and get a new job where he finally gets treated with respect. It is shown how they miss each other despite everything. But then Timmy loses his work Visa which turns out to be completely Russell’s fault.

Right after Jenn and Adam marry in the last episode, Russell proposes to Timmy so he can stay in America but it becomes clear that there is more than his conscience that made him do this.

Russell turning his girlfriend into Timmy. (There is no heterosexual explanation for this):

https://youtu.be/sX1xTybc6vI

Timmy finding out how much Russell really stalks him. (like. he is totally in love with him):

https://youtu.be/jPWKdwpXCLU

Their Wedding (seems pretty gay to me):

https://youtu.be/Ymp-zaTmnD8

 You need to see the whole show as it is. A bunch of horrible people that are made fun of.

Furthermore you could argue that they don’t actually kiss. But maybe marriage is even more meaningful. 

I suppose that since we get so little representation, we like to clasp onto everything we can get. Because when I watched this I was too young to understand how offensive the shit they talk about really is. But after all it meant a lot to my gay little heart.

So many years later I gotta say that it needs to be said that it’s a toxic relationship after all. Don’t try it at home. Don’t try it with your boss or assisstant.

In the end it’s a green card marriage. But there is this whole arch of Russell falling in love with Timmy. Most clearly in the last three episodes but also starting a lot earlier. It’s a slow burn after all. It’s never said out loud but we got two bisexual characters right there.

Now I’m asking around my friends what their first gay ship was that became canon. The results really show that we don’t get enough representation in series. Just wow.

Hannigram became canon. kinda. They jumped off a cliff together instead of kissing. That one dude from supernatural you guys keep talking about got sent to super gay hell after confessing.

What I want to say is I just wanna see a healthy gay ship become canon some day.

Thanks for reading!

...So what was your first gay ship that became canon? 

[new-sandrafilter]

Behold Dune: An Exclusive Look at Timothée Chalamet, Zendaya, Oscar Isaac, and More  

Timothée Chalamet remembers the darkness. It was the summer of 2019, and the cast and crew of Dune had ventured deep into the sandstone and granite canyons of southern Jordan, leaving in the middle of the night so they could catch the dawn on camera. The light spilling over the chasms gave the landscape an otherworldly feel. It was what they had come for.

“It was really surreal,” says Chalamet. “There are these Goliath landscapes, which you may imagine existing on planets in our universe, but not on Earth.”

They weren’t on Earth anymore, anyway. They were on a deadly, dust-dry battleground planet called Arrakis. In Frank Herbert’s epic 1965 sci-fi novel, Arrakis is the only known location of the galaxy’s most vital resource, the mind-altering, time-and-space-warping “spice.” In the new film adaptation, directed by Arrival and Blade Runner 2049 filmmaker Denis Villeneuve, Chalamet stars as the young royal Paul Atreides, the proverbial stranger in a very strange land, who’s fighting to protect this hostile new home even as it threatens to destroy him. Humans are the aliens on Arrakis. The dominant species on that world are immense, voracious sandworms that burrow through the barren drifts like subterranean dragons.

For the infinite seas of sand that give the story its title, the production moved to remote regions outside Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates, where the temperatures rivaled the fiction in Herbert’s story. “I remember going out of my room at 2 a.m., and it being probably 100 degrees,” says Chalamet. During the shoot, he and the other actors were costumed in what the world of Dune calls “stillsuits”—thick, rubbery armor that preserves the body’s moisture, even gathering tiny bits from the breath exhaled through the nose. In the story, the suits are life-giving. In real life, they were agony. “The shooting temperature was sometimes 120 degrees,” says Chalamet. “They put a cap on it out there, if it gets too hot. I forget what the exact number is, but you can’t keep working.” The circumstances fed the story they were there to tell: “In a really grounded way, it was helpful to be in the stillsuits and to be at that level of exhaustion.”

It wouldn’t be Dune if it were easy. Herbert’s novel became a sci-fi touchstone in the 1960s, heralded for its world-building and ecological subtext, as well as its intricate (some say impenetrable) plot focusing on two families struggling for supremacy over Arrakis. The book created ripples that many see in everything from Star Wars to Alien to Game of Thrones. Still, for decades, the novel itself has defied adaptation. In the ’70s, the wild man experimental filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky mounted a quest to film it, but Hollywood considered the project too risky. David Lynch brought Dune to the big screen in a 1984 feature, but it was derided as an incomprehensible mess and a blight on his filmography. In 2000, a Dune miniseries on what’s now the SyFy channel became a hit for the cable network, but it is now only dimly remembered.

Villeneuve intends to create a Dune that has so far only existed in the imagination of readers. The key, he says, was to break the sprawling narrative in half. When Dune hits theaters on December 18, it will only be half the novel, with Warner Bros. agreeing to tell the story in two films, similar to the studio’s approach with Stephen King’s It and It Chapter Two. “I would not agree to make this adaptation of the book with one single movie,” says Villeneuve. “The world is too complex. It’s a world that takes its power in details.”

For Villeneuve, this 55-year-old story about a planet being mined to death was not merely a space adventure, but a prophecy. “No matter what you believe, Earth is changing, and we will have to adapt,” he says. “That’s why I think that Dune, this book, was written in the 20th century. It was a distant portrait of the reality of the oil and the capitalism and the exploitation—the overexploitation—of Earth. Today, things are just worse. It’s a coming-of-age story, but also a call for action for the youth.”

Chalamet’s character, Paul, thinks he’s just a boy struggling to find a place in the world, but he actually possesses the ability to change it. He has a supernatural gift to harness and unleash energy, lead others, and meld with the heart of his new home world. Think Greta Thunberg, only she’s a Jedi with a degree from Hogwarts. Paul comes from a powerful galactic family with a name that sounds like a constellation—the House Atreides. His father and mother, Duke Leto (played by Oscar Isaac) and Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), take their son from their lush, Scandinavian-like home world to preside over spice extraction on Arrakis. What follows is a clash with the criminal, politically connected House Harkonnen, led by the monstrous Baron Vladimir (Stellan Skarsgård), a mammoth with merciless appetites. The baron, created with full-body prosthetics, is like a rhino in human form. This version of the character is less of a madman and more of a predator. “As much as I deeply love the book, I felt that the baron was flirting very often with caricature,” says Villeneuve. “And I tried to bring him a bit more dimension. That’s why I brought in Stellan. Stellan has something in the eyes. You feel that there’s someone thinking, thinking, thinking—that has tension and is calculating inside, deep in the eyes. I can testify, it can be quite frightening.”

The director has also expanded the role of Paul’s mother, Lady Jessica. She’s a member of the Bene Gesserit, a sect of women who can read minds, control people with their voice (again, a precursor to the Jedi mind trick), and manipulate the balance of power in the universe. In the script, which Villeneuve wrote with Eric Roth and Jon Spaihts, she is even more fearsome than before. The studio’s plot synopsis describes her as a “warrior priestess.” As Villeneuve jokes, “It’s better than ‘space nun.’ ”

Lady Jessica’s duty is to deliver a savior to the universe—and now she has a greater role in defending and training Paul too. “She’s a mother, she’s a concubine, she’s a soldier,” says Ferguson. “Denis was very respectful of Frank’s work in the book, [but] the quality of the arcs for much of the women have been brought up to a new level. There were some shifts he did, and they are beautifully portrayed now.”

In an intriguing change to the source material, Villeneuve has also updated Dr. Liet Kynes, the leading ecologist on Arrakis and an independent power broker amid the various warring factions. Although always depicted as a white man, the character is now played by Sharon Duncan-Brewster (Rogue One), a black woman. “What Denis had stated to me was there was a lack of female characters in his cast, and he had always been very feminist, pro-women, and wanted to write the role for a woman,” Duncan-Brewster says. “This human being manages to basically keep the peace amongst many people. Women are very good at that, so why can’t Kynes be a woman? Why shouldn’t Kynes be a woman?”

 As fans will know, there’s a vast menagerie of other characters populating Dune. There are humans called “mentats,” augmented with computerlike minds. Paul is mentored by two of them. There are also the bravado warriors Duncan Idaho and Gurney Halleck, played by Jason Momoa and Josh Brolin. Dave Bautista plays a sinister Harkonnen enforcer Glossu Rabban, and Charlotte Rampling has a key role as the Bene Gesserit reverend mother. The list goes on. In the seemingly unlivable wilds of Arrakis, Javier Bardem leads the Fremen tribe as Stilgar, and Zendaya costars as a mystery woman named Chani, who haunts Paul in his dreams as a vision with glowing blue eyes.

The breadth of Dune is what has made it so confounding for others to adapt. “It’s a book that tackles politics, religion, ecology, spirituality—and with a lot of characters,” says Villeneuve. “I think that’s why it’s so difficult. Honestly, it’s by far the most difficult thing I’ve done in my life.” After finishing this first movie, he’ll just have to do it all over again.

[realityshiftingandblogging]

Explaining My DR

⚠️ Before you read, please keep in mind my DR is based from a lot of mythology. Please do not feel offended (I mean you can feel offended but I mean please don't feel like I'm purposely trying to offend you) if your group is not mentioned (such as magic users) or if they are misinterpreted. It's a DR based from the past and from old mythology and lore. It isn't going to be the same as the present. We are also using old terms and meanings. It's also based from an anime too. ⚠️

⚠️I'll also be updating this from time to time if I find more information I want to place. So if you ever get bored, just head on back and see if anything is new! ⚠️

Click read more to see~

What is my reality based from?

Mine is heavily referenced from an anime called "The Ancient Magus Bride." The anime itself is beautiful, and based off of many legends and mythology and it somehow blends together beautifully.

My reality is going to be somewhere in the 1700's (but without slavery and a few wars) because I am sharing my DR with my online friends (and those I classify as my online "Family") and we decided we wanted to see how much history we could change.

So far, we have decided to save Marie Antoinette.

The reality itself has "fae" who don't like to be called "Fairies" and would rather be called "neighbors." They are friendly, in their own way, though some can be aggressive but we have decided that we are safe from those and won't fight them. But here's a catch - you can't see them unless you have "The Sight." Some people do have the sight such as mages (a rare form of magic user in our reality) or "Sleigh Beggy" otherwise known as "Slay Vega."

Slay Vega's have the ability to see and attract fae. As Wiki put it:

--------

Sleigh Beggies are a type of human who have a natural affinity towards the fae and other supernatural entities, drawing their kind towards them unintentionally. Because their bodies naturally absorb magic but they typically lack the means of controlling it, they die fairly young. This is why, despite the fact that there are more Sleigh Beggy than natural-born mages, their numbers are few and far between. Sleigh Beggy are highly prized by both other sorcerers and fae. The former because their organs naturally absorb magic and so they can be used as batteries for magic and the latter because they are naturally drawn to them as they view Sleigh Beggy as being closer to their kind. This often brings them misfortune as well, because the fae drawn to them will act against their wishes, more so for those who are not gifted with the Sight and cannot see the fae. The fae's goodwill does not always result in the happiness and, when left to their own interpretation, their love and loyalty manifests into both luck and ill fortune. Sleigh Beggy unconsciously absorb a lot of magical energy, but lack the means of expressing it unless they are trained in magic or other methods. As a Sleigh Beggy draws attention from Fae, they will have little difficulty becoming mages if they find a mentor to train them and be capable of powerful magic.

--------

I will be a Sleigh Vega/Beggy but I will also have immortality, so I won't be hurt by this magic absorption; because of this the fae will be attracted to me and I can help my s/o with his magic too.

Other than Sleigh Beggys, what are there?

Well there are many magic types. For my DR we have

Sleigh Beggy: The rarest of all the types, even to the point they are even unheard of. They have the abilities of both a mage and sorcerer. They passively absorb and exude magic energy. Almost unlimited. However, their bodies are still human and they will eventually have pain from the constant strain. Fae are attracted to this type but their friendship isn't always beneficial to Sleigh Beggies. A Sleigh Beggy without a mentor or teacher may feel cursed being around them as they can't understand the world around them or why the Fae behave as they do.

Mages: Are magic users who absorb magic and cast spells using it or they borrow magic from Fae. However, this is draining for the caster.

Sorcerers: They are different from other magic users. They turn their own energy into magic to perform sorcery. Unlike the Mages, they don't contort or use the Natural Laws by breaking them, instead they study these laws and manipulate said laws.

Witches: Are magical users similar to mages, but the difference is they dive into more forbidden arts and choose to gather in groups known as covens.

The History Of Magic:

In the new age of mankind, some humans could perform what we know as "miracles.' They could see beings known as fae. Or live fairly longer than others. As time went on, these people passed on techniques, knowledge, skills and shared with each other what is now known as "Magic." Those who could possess it were known as "Mages."

But as time went on, less and less humans were born with this ability and due to the "Great War" many magical users died. Ever since then, it was unusual, rare, and strange to find humans with this ability. Eventually, this was hidden from the world to ensure the safety of the magic users.

Overview Of Magic

Magic is a result of using the energy inside your body or using the energy of the world around you. This is a process that is referred to as "Magic" or a "Miracle." While magic users can use the worlds natural laws or the use of magical beings they can also use magic with chants or wands.

For some sorcerers, they have a magical core that can "act" as an internal organ which generates magical energy. It can pass on through generations genetically. Sometimes there are some born with non-magical parents.

Magic can be used in many ways. The results vary depending on the use such as shape, form, or requirements needed. It can be used for teleportation, purification, and giving life to inanimate objects. It can also be used for attacks like summoning spikes, thorns, using shadows or light, or breathing fire.

Magic can also be used by Artificers, like Angelica, who makes magic tools such as rings or wands.

What Are Fae?

Fae, or Neighbors, are a race of magical beings who can use, conjure, or absorb magic for themselves or other beings. They can be found everywhere around the world, but they are most commonly found in Tir Na nÓg which is ruled by Titiana and Oberon.

This silly couple:

There are many different types such as Ariels, Banshees, Church Grims, Brownies, Changelings, Elfs, Fire Sprites, Muryans, Selkies, and Vodyanoi!

Each fae is capable of something different and some are friendly, and some are aggressive. Similar to humans XD.

Random Things About My DR

➭ Even though it's set in the 1700s we have plumbing and pipes for baths, phones we can use to contact eachother and see media from Jean's reality (a very close friend of mine), and we plan to make some technology early. Because why not???

➭ We plan to mess up history a bit because we want to see how much we can change. And before you say "that's forcibly changing lives" technically no. It's not like the CR. Period. It's the 1700s where magic exists. We're not forcing a change in anyone's life. We're just going to mess with historical events that were bound to happen one way or another. #and they literally could've changed with or without us.

➭ There's a magic library where fae can exist alongside humans without any issue. No one can harm eachother within the library. It's also a rest good place to nap and it's really cozy.

➭ We live in a small cottage away from the village, it has a small pond and a garden. And just along the path in the back there's a forest. Keeping going down the path and you'll find a passage to Tir na nÓg.

➭ What's Tir na nÓg? It's an old legend of a place where you never age, that is, if you can get there. It's a place full of fae and where the king and queen of fae live. The plants never wither or die and it's always lively.

➭ My DR backstory is that I'm born as a king's daughter. I have a brother and a sister. That's all. Father and brother are Castelios which is a family that was given powers by the demons or fae from the Great War. They tend to scare everyone, due to their aura, except close family. Not even close friends are used to the aura. Though my sister and I didn't develop this, which is rare. I'll shift around the time I first meet my dad and brother after my mother left me and my sister with them. (No it won't be traumatizing, it's just my choice.) I'll grow up within the castle walls and learning magic from my brother and sword fighting from my sister. I'll eventually convince my dad to let me go outside the walls, to which he agrees, where I'll try to mess around with history a bit. On my 16th birthday I'll meet Elias Ainsworth in the greenhouse outside the walls when I snuck away at night. A huge chunk of years later I plan to already be a mage under his mentoring and be married by then, and the cottage is just our choice despite having an estate somewhere else. I only have until age 18 scripted so far but if you ask in like.... a week from now I might have something fjsbdjsnskssm

➭ There's a hunting event where any knight (male or female) can enter and so can royalty. A person from their familiy (or really anyone) can give them their handkerchief and whoever's handkerchief they had will recieve all that they hunted. It's a way to symbolize popularity, typically you'd want the biggest game or the most. For example if I have my s/o my handkerchief then whatever he hunted will go to me. Similarly if he gave me his then whatever I hunted will go to him. The more admired a person is, the more handkerchiefs a person has to give out and they have more game.

(If you're anti-hunting I am very sorry if this just offended you so please don't @me djeanjss please.)

➭ We have a room in the library that has many windows leading to different DRs. There's a wall full of keys that open the windows because the windows can't be broken or opened without a key, phew. When you look through each window it has a different scenery because each is a different DR. They are usually labeled and if you want to enter that reality you have to open the window and to right through. That's how Jean and I get to eachothers realities and also contact eachother. We decided to connect our DRs in a way.

My Desired Reality Members:

First, my DR husband!

Elias Ainsworth!

He is a mage who is both fae and human, though no one knows why he was this way and it was hinted that he was cursed. He also my mentor who will teach me magic.

Appearance

He's taller than most humans, reaching around 6'7". Because of the curse, he doesn't look human though will take a human form using magic. He likes to decorate his horns with gold string that holds a red cloth to cover his face.

A Mood board of him:

Personality

He's very kind and polite (to most) but he's... not antisocial but not social either. He has a hard time relating to people (big mood) but he's like that because he has no understanding of the emotions he feels nor does he remember anything of his life before. Because of this, he's extremely fascinated with emotions. He decided to adopt a "gentleman" mannerism to seem more friendly. He closely studies others but finds it a bit hard to follow their example. He doesn't tend to lie - but if he doesn't know you or knows you slightly then he leaves out any bit of information and tries to hide things. Once you get to know him, he's not so secretive and more child-like. But despite that, he's very willing to make up for, amend, and apologize for any childish behavior that was out of line.

Jeans comment on Elias: "Elias: nice, tall, protective and sweet from what I know, lowkey shy and is trying to understand humans and in the anime is learning emotions AND AJJSJDJSJD thats so SWEET, has lots of money-"

His Magic Abilities

He can manipulate the shadows and he leans toward destructive magic. He can hide in the shadows and create thorns. This gave him the name, given by the fae, "Child of Thorn" or simply "Thorn" as well as "Pilum Murialis." He can also shapeshift and remove memories.

Myself! Online, I go by a few names but in any DR it's Estelle.

Appearance

I'll have waist length black hair, styled in either a braid or simply let down. I have pale skin, blue eyes, and a small birthmark on my collarbones.

Mood board of myself:

Personality

I'll have the same as I do here but I felt really weird typing it out so I'm going to use how my friend described me!

Jeans opinion on Estelle: "Estelle - very soft and caring, maternal I’d say, great listener, really fun to talk to, shy and introverted but SJDJJDKFODOSOSOD when she comes out of her shell, has lots of nice memes, overall a good person to talk to about problems or just to have fun with and MEME, video game and reading nerd HAJDJDJSJKS, sympathetic and empathetic, smart, understanding"

Skills

Mental link: An ability shared with Ruth. We have a shared mind and memory.

Shapeshifting: I can shapeshift into a Pheonix which I'll mainly only use for fun.

Healing: I can heal, either by a chant or with the help of fae or tools

Light manipulation: I can manipulate light and use it against or for people

{Before I get onto the subject about my kids. Yes, I do know them in the CR. I have raised Adam and Asher despite us being close in age, I've always been the more "motherly" figure in my friends and relatives lives. (And I have recently became a mother figure for Nutmeg for about three years now.) I've organized the appointments, cook, cleaned, been there emotionally and so on. I am Asher and Adams aunt as well, so before you ask "Isn't that weird?" In my opinion, no. There are many people I've met who are the same and just straight up become the mother figure in someone's life. I am young, but I've been doing this job for years and a few comments aren't going to stop me from my job.}

Artificer: I have artificer abilities that I typically use to make a creature called a "Maker." They simply like making things. They're smart but really emotional and made from fabric similar to a doll. They like to swear masks and they basically look like a fabric version of a Korok.

Nutmeg

Nutmeg will be my daughter in the future. She is also a person from this reality who sees me as a mother figure and I see her as a daughter. So we agreed this is something we wanted to do. How it will work is she will try shift to the future of my DR after i've been married for a few years. (And before you say "That's not possible!" or "That won't work!" Let me make it clear I said "try." We are going to try this and we have a code to and we scripted that if this isn't possible, the other us wouldn't know the code.) Nutmeg is the youngest of all of my kids.

Appearance

Nutmeg has hazel eyes with a yellowish color and freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. She likes styling her brown and reddish hair into pig tails and she's typically seen in yellow.

Mood board of her:

Personality

She is very kind and doting, especially towards her siblings. She's not big into typical school but wants to go to the magic college for magic users. She likes baking and flower picking! She's very sweet towards fae and tries her best 100% of the time. A hugger and also someone who would bONK you if you upset her brothers or really anyone she cared about.

Jean's comment on Nutmeg: "Nutmeg - I’ve not talked to her much BUT SHES THE CUTEST WITTLE ANGEL BEAN, she’s super nice, worries/panics a lot for people from what I know, extremely caring, big gay and we love it (i once said to Estelle nutmeg can be a cottagecore lesbian and I just JSKSKSJDJDJ), loving towards y’all and it just makes me JSKDKDKDMDMMFJF"

Her skills

She has more celestial and healing magic that she got from my side. She can manipulate light, heal others, and manipulate the stars or use them as guides.

"Hey sweetie can you please not move that..."

Asher, Adam, and Her who secretly plotted to move the stars to prank astrologists with Jean's kids:

Adam

Another person who's shifting with us. He's the oldest of the siblings and he's a person I've actually raised in the CR from an early age.

Mood board of him:

Appearance

He has red eyes, taking after Elias and black hair that takes after me. He's the tallest of all the kids and typically has the more "mature" fashion by wanting to wear suits or formal attire.

Personality

He's typically the type to be stern and distant but once you know him he's more open and kind. He doesn't like people who judge and he's usually the type to do stuff he most certainly shouldn't jump into it. Adam to Asher in our Discord server: "Hey so LETS INVENT BOMBS."

Jean's comment on Adam: "Adam - smart, literally what the fuck, he’s really nice and a big home dog,,, literally like a big brother like I feel like he’ll be there when you need him, SMART DID I MENTION SMART, has an exterior shell but thats why you have to take things with him at a pace, super fcking sweet like with his stupid ex but god dammit that was sweet"

Skills

He can destroy things like Elias, summon fire, and can summon thorns. He can teleport and he has his artificer abilities that were taught by Angelica and I.

Asher

Asher is the middle child and also someone I've raised. Asher and Adam are related to me and each other in the CR as well.

Appearance

Asher has white hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. He likes the color blue and green so he typically uses it in any piece of clothing he owns. He mentioned he will wear blue more often to compliment his eyes and make his darker horns more apparent.

Mood board of him:

Personality

He's really sweet, caring, and attentive. You tell him once you like one small thing and he will remember it for years. He's really hyper and full of energy unlike his other siblings who are much more calm than him.

Jean's comment on Asher: "Asher - chaos, chaos, chaos okay anyway tbh really funny, has funny ass memes and random ass thoughts that are funny, loves affection, caring as well since I see how you care for nutmeg especially, loving and sweet, smart and retains random info like JFJDKEKDKDK-, space boy and religion boy, meme, sarcastic, 10/10 humor, energetic and extremely fun, someone you’d want at a small party with friends to hype everything up, loves kids and animals"

Skills

Asher can manipulate fire and electricity. He has super speed and super hearing, along with enhanced strength.

Silver Lady!

Also known as Silky or Silver! She was a former Banshee before being transformed by Spriggan (Titiana's bodyguard sort of speak.) She's our housekeeper.

Appearance

Silver likes to wear a, pink, Victorian dress with a matching shawl and bonnet. Her hair is blonde and short and her eyes are a shiny pink.

Mood board of her:

Personality

She doesn't chat much and often has a stoic or deadpan facial expression. But despite that, once knowing her you learn and are exposed to her emotions. She tends to dote on guests that she likes but will simply ignore those she doesn't trust. If someone she doesn't like enters the house for business, she will hover over me or the other residents and simply ignore the guest. Silver also has a sense of humor and enjoys playing pranks every now and then. She likes sewing hearts into clothes where we won't notice. Silver tends to only stay within the house or near the house, due to her past home being ruined she fears that if she leaves she will be forgotten or left behind.

Her Skills:

Silky/Silver is able to do housekeeping magic. She can change details of the house, including wallpaper or the floorboards using a simple spell.

Ruth, A Church Grim

Ruth is my familiar who can shapeshift between being a Church Grim and Human.

Appearance

Ruth can shapeshift between his two forms. A Church Grim, which is a large black dog which reaches to my rib cage in height. In this form, he has red eyes. In a human form however, his eyes appear brown or somewhat red. With he has light brownish skin and black hair. He likes to sweat striped shirts :D

Mood board of Ruth:

Personality

Ruth is very doting and diligent. He uses our mental link which causes a shared memory, feeling, and lifespan, to tell others how I'm feeling if I can't put it into words. He's also protective and won't hesitate to b0nK someone across the head. He's more of a big brother to those he's close with.

Skills

Familiar skills: He shares a lifespan with me, can share dreams, and be summoned from long distances through a mind link.

Shadow: He can hide in my shadow if needed.

Angelica Barley

Angelica is a mage and artificer. She owns her own magic shop that is hidden behind her book shop.

Appearance

Angelica has sharp features, and typically braids her hair up to show them off. She's commonly seen wearing sleeves when working because of the crystals that were embedded in her arms from an accident.

Mood board of her:

Personality

She's kind but stern. Typically, to new mages she acts as a distant mentor. She takes pride in her work but she's also cautious due to her accident. She's possibly one of the only people that can tell Elias off, and she won't hesitate to do it.

Skills

Angelica has the sight similar to that the mages possess. Just like mages, she can borrow magic from fae and she's quite knowledgeable about it too. As an artificer, she embeds magic within tools or makes them with the purpose of magic. She had a Vodanoi named Hugo who is bound to her, he's a prankster but sweet nonetheless. Hugo and Angelica have longevity. This means that they both have increased life spans and she hasn't aged much at all.

Lindel

Lindel is a mage and the current care taker of the Dragons. He was both Elias and Adolf's first master.

Appearance

Lindel is a human and despite being a thousand years old, he looks to be in his 20s. He has pale skin and blonde hair that be ties or braids that frame his face and blue eyes. He typically wears a hood and robe with odd designs on the hood and back piece.

Mood board of Lindel

Personality

Before he became a Mage and Keeper Of Dragons, he hated fae. The fae caused him many problems which caused him to isolate himself. But now, he is calm and playful and he takes pride in his job as the dragon keeper. Despite his usual demeanor, when it comes to the dragons he isn't so kind to poachers.

There are many other people I'll be getting to later such as my dad, my brother, my sister, my friend and her kids and s/o, other important people, etc. But for now I'm tired ainjsndjwsn

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 211

211

Feeling Lance getting out of bed, Keith felt for his lover, Lance’s hand finding his after he’d half slapped him on the lower back

“Babe?”

“Getting a drink”

“Dun’ be too long”

“I won’t”

Coran was a bad loser. Pidge had annihilated him in Mario. Keith and Lance coming downstairs just as Coran started accusing Pidge of cheating. Five rematches later and Matt had taken the controller off Coran who started on a tangent about everything wrong with the game. To soothe the piece, Hunk suggested they do the cake now that Lance was awake to enjoy it.

Hunk had outdone himself with the cake. Keith had no words for how nicely decorated it was, nor did he have words for how big it was. As they were choosing not to know the sex of their twins, Hunk had used soft pastels to bring colour to the cake with fancy twirly things and edging that he didn’t know the name for. Comprised of three tiers, the top tier had two foot pints made from edible chocolate, coloured purple, circled by “Kogane-McClain Twins”. The second layer read congratulations. The third being just cute pastel icing. Had he not been embarrassed over his lack of baking knowledge, he probably would have asked Lance what all the decorations were properly called. The inside of the cake matched the outside. Pink, purple, blue, green, and yellow, comprising the layers with buttercream frosting between them.

Apparently their Sunshine Hunk couldn’t help himself, Lance crying on Hunk’s shoulder as he thanked him. Hunk crying on Lance’s shoulder as he assured him he knew he was grateful. Taking the top tier for themselves, they shared a plate, knowing there was no way there would be anything left once Matt and Rieva started. Having never eaten a “foot” before, Keith was impressed Hunk had managed to mould white chocolate so well. The man had skills. If he were to open a bakery, Keith’s bank balance wouldn’t be staying in the black very long.

After the cake came the presents. Their twins had to have a set a record for the most blankets and onesies. Lance kept saying they didn’t need anything else, everything making him cry... except for Shiro who would forever be the lamest big brother in history. Someone out there made custom onesies. Keith would like to meet them and strangle them. Four bloody onesies. Four bloody supernatural themed onesies that had passed Curtis’s tick of approval. Two vampire print and two werewolf print. Why did everything Shiro touched always have to come back to that? Curtis earned some point back with him by gifting them a box set of documentaries that he and Lance had watched half of when Curtis lived there.

Coran, now over his loss and perked up with sugar, gifted them herbal teas with a long lecture on which teas were best for which moods. Being tea, it all went through one ear and out the other. Allura’s gift of coffee made it clear she knew what a werewolf needed in his life, especially with the sleepless nights to come.

Krolia... Krolia’s gift was a set of tiny little blades for their twins. Keith confiscating them before his mother could get any ideas about training the twins to be hunters. That wasn’t the life they wanted for their kids. They wanted to watch them grow and explore the world, finding their own passions to chase. Lance politely thanked Krolia, but the look on his face said those blades were to disappear somewhere where their twins would never find them.

Shay had found “emo” baby blankets. Lance found them funny, as they reminded him of Keith. Keith couldn’t deny that they weren’t his favourite gift because they were kind of nifty with their black and white skull patterns and the green one had a really cool dragon pattern on it.

From Matt and Rieva, almost entirely most definitely Rieva’s idea, they were gifted a set of second hand Berenstain Bears books. She’d started secretly collecting when she’d found out Lance was pregnant. Mami gave a little help with the gift choice. Matt’s gift to them was taking Pidge home and spending a couple of days in Platt so they could have more alone time before the birth. Keith had a new favourite present.

Pidge drunkenly praising her skills over “suping up” the pram she’d gifted them. The thing now sporting wheels that “would make Lance’s dumb bronco cry in jealous”. Lance wasn’t sure about it all, but Pidge wouldn’t be dissuaded that the pram wasn’t now at its absolute best. Though no one argued with her directly about it, she was mid-rant when she threw up rather violently onto the rug. Krolia taking her to the bathroom, while Lance excused himself to throw up in the kitchen sink. Now there was two vomiting people, it was a mutual decision to start winding things up. Matt and Rieva in charge of getting a drunk Pidge home. Shay and Hunk also deciding maybe it was best to head off before Pidge came out the bathroom again. Their gremlin very loving and loud about it between throwing up and being soothed by Krolia. Coran and Allura were catching a ride back to Platt with Krolia, and with how green Shiro was looking, Keith sending them home.

Keith didn’t realise until everyone had left, that they’d been left with the mammoth task of cleaning everything up. Still, for all it’s ups and downs, it’d been a good party, though the pair of them did breathe a sigh of relief when silence descended over their home. Chores were done. Dishes washed. The rug scrubbed. Everything else outside could wait for another day as they climbed into bed together, both too sleepy for the night of promised passion. Lance still had moisturiser on his nose as kissed Keith goodnight. Keith smearing it out for him, thinking how lucky he was to have Lance... and how their friends had spent way too much money on them. He didn’t think he’d ever be used to such thoughtful gifts without waiting for a catch.

Dozing off, Lance’s spot was still empty when he woke up again. There were some nights was more out of their bed than in, but Keith couldn’t hear him in the bathroom. Trying not to panic, the werewolf climbed out from the mound of blankets on their bed. Most nights he’d find he’d kicked them off, too hot and too sweaty to sleep peacefully, like Lance did. Jogging over to the bathroom, he found it empty. Vaguely he remembered Lance saying he was his thirsty. If his fiancé’s insomnia had kicked in, then Lance was most probably sitting in the living room watching the TV on mute so Keith could get some sleep.

Sleepy and stumbly, Keith missed the bottom step of the stairs, hand flying out and denting the wall as he felt himself fall. Had the overwhelming scent of blood not been in the air, he might have paused to examine the damage he’d just done to the same spot Lance had repaired at least a dozen times since moving into his house

“Lance?! Babe?!”

Getting no answer from his fiancé, Keith’s heart started to race as his mind went to the worst possible situation. Lance could have slipped. He could be bleeding out. There was so much blood in the air, the werewolf’s stomach felt queasy.

Checking the rooms along the way, Kosmo had made himself at home in Matt’s and Rieva’s room, an interesting fact, though useless because Lance was on his mind. Reaching Lance’s office, the door was slightly open, the space illuminated by his computer screen. Flicking the light on, Lance hissed at him. Keith’s eyes widened in shock at the sight in front of him. Lance covered in blood. His fiancé hadn’t been kidding about being thirsty. Blood ran down his chin, and from his hands down his arms, not caring about how much of a mess he’d made feeding on blood bags he’d torn apart rather popping the cap on them. A quick count came to 8 bags scattered around Lance’s feet.

Watching Lance throw down the blood bag he’d just finished, the vampire tore into the next one, literally. His hands trying to push as much blood from the ripped bag down his throat as he could

“Babe? Babe, you feeling okay?”

Raising his head, Lance’s eyes were blank. That warm spark that always seemed to sparkly that just little bit bright for him was dull

“Babe?”

This couldn’t be good. Lance said he was thirsty. Not that he hadn’t fed in a year and was now making up for it. Keith felt revolted, and guilty for being revolted. His ego shocked into shutting up as they stared

“Baby, I think you’ve had enough blood. Here, let’s go back to bed? How does that sound?”

Lance didn’t reply. Keith forcing himself to slowly edge towards Lance. This was his Lance. His Lance wouldn’t savage him as he’d done with the blood bags. Nope. No. He was totally safe. Yep. Just a normal day in a vampire pregnancy. Nothing to see here

“Babe, come on, you’ve had enough for now”

Lance threw away the bag he’d drained, Keith using his speed to grab the bag he’d been going for out of reach. Watching the bag, Lance bared his bloodied fangs

“Baby, please. I know you’re in there. It’s me. It’s Keith. Come on, babe. Don’t let your ego push you aside”

Oh... oh. He was crying now. Keith didn’t know when that started. Had Lance not eating this much contributed to him feeling so ill? Was this how much blood a pregnant vampire needed in their final weeks of pregnancy? Placing the bag on the desk, Keith shifted the bags on the floor away with his foot, making it to crouching in front of Lance safely.

With shaking hands the werewolf reached out. His left hand going to Lance’s forehead as his right hand cupped his fiancé’s face. Blinking at him, Keith’s touch seemed to “wake” his lover. Warmth and confusion filling Lance’s eyes

“K-Keith?”

Looking down at his bloodied front, Lance’s gaze flicked back up, eyes welling with tears

“Wha... what happened?”

“You got a bit thirsty”

“But... h-how? The... party...?”

“The party ended hours ago, baby. You’re okay. You didn’t hurt anyone”

“I... I don’t remember”

The pain in Lance’s eyes was crushing

“Pidge started throwing up. Matt and Rieva took her home. Are you okay? You don’t feel warm”

“I don’t feel very good...”

“Okay. That’s okay. Do you think you can stand up?”

Lance went to look down his chest again, Keith holding his head up so he forced to look him in the eye

“You’re okay. It’s a just a bit of blood”

“I don’t remember”

“That’s okay. We were both exhausted when we went to bed. Just focus on me, baby. You can do that right?”

“I always focus on you”

Moving a stray lock of hair back, Keith gave Lance the best smile he could manage around his internal freak out

“Yeah, you do. You’re so good to me, babe. Let’s get you cleaned up and back into bed”

Lance nuzzled into his palm

“I’m sleepy”

Normally that much blood would turn Lance into an ego driven wanker

“I bet you are. You had a huge day and our friends are idiots. Let’s wash up, then we’ll snuggle”

Lance closed his eyes, sniffing sadly

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry I don’t remember coming down here...”

“That’s okay, baby. That’s okay. You’re okay”

*

Putting Lance to bed, Keith couldn’t sleep. Lance passed right out, but Keith was worried. Once the scent of blood had finally been cleaned away, a strange scent cling to Lance that left him feeling on edge. He didn’t like. The scent had him all muddled up inside, almost as if it’d given him a dose of adrenaline and he simply couldn’t sit still. Leaving his fiancé sleeping, Keith first headed to the bathroom to fetch Lance’s bloodied shirt and underwear, before heading downstairs. The one night he could have done with someone else there to tell him what to do, their house stood uselessly empty. Cleaning. That was about all he could do.

Crying as he scrubbed at the blood split in Lance’s office, he wondered how the heck he was supposed to deal with this. Lance had climbed into bed without prompting, even skipping getting in one last apology before zonking out. His fiancé needed his sleep, but should he have been waking him and taking him to Coran? Was he overreacting? It wasn’t like Lance had had a bleed, he’d checked when he’d towelled him down. Now that he was back to being himself, he’d been affectionate... but he couldn’t get the image of all that blood out of his head.

The torn bags thrown in the trash with Lance’s clothes, and the clothes from cleaning, the bin then dragged out to the road at Lance’s gateway for collection. Coming back to the house, Keith could hear Lance snoring, yet found himself unable to head upstairs with so much in his head. He needed coffee... and he really needed a fucking hug... Coffee at least was home and never failed at settling him, if he didn’t think about the times it had.

Settling himself on the edge of the sofa, Keith didn’t remember grabbing his phone when he’d left Lance sleeping. Kosmo coming quietly padding into the room, dropping himself to sit beside Keith’s legs with a soft whine

“I know. I’m worried about him too. Should I call Coran? Or am I thinking about this too much?”

He was so damn good at that. At his mind jumping to the worst case scenario. He’d always hate that about himself. He needed Shiro. They’d talked a little over lunch, but right now, Shiro was the only one he felt would understand his stupid fears. He loved Garrison, but the house felt so isolated that he felt truly alone. If the world outside had been destroyed, he’d be the last to know. God. He wanted his brother.

Resting his elbows on his knees, his right palm dug into his right eye as he held his phone with his left. The ringing continuing so long that he thought it’d ring out. It must have been the last ring when the call finally connected, Shiro’s voice groggy

“Keith?”

A fresh wave of tears hit. He’d woken his brother up...

“I’m sorry...”

In the background was the rustling of sheets, he picked up on the sound of the switch on Shiro’s lamp flicking on

“Hey, kiddo. What’s going on?”

What wasn’t going on...

“Keith? Hey... What happened? Is it Lance?”

“Shiro... I don’t know what to do”

Kosmo whined softly at his distress. Keith’s right hand moving to hug his best boy close

“I’m sure it’ll be okay. What happened?”

“I... I walked on him feeding... and there was so much blood. He was covered in blood. He wasn’t even... even aware of it. He didn’t remember coming down. I don’t know if he even remembers the party... I put him back to bed, but I don’t know what to do...”

In the background Curtis asked it was Keith, Shiro covering the bottom of his phone as he replied it was. Now he’d gone and disturbed Curtis too

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called...”

“Hey, no. No. You’re my little brother. I want you to rely on me. When you say you walked in on Lance, was he acting differently?”

“It was like he wasn’t even there. No. It was like I wasn’t there... He was so hungry...”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. The moment he realised I was there he started panicking because he was covered in blood”

“How much blood are we talking about?”

“I threw out 10 bags... well, the remains of 10 bags. He tore into them as if he hadn’t eaten for ages”

In the background he heard Curtis asking for him to put Keith on speaker phone. He wanted to talk to his brother, not so much Curtis

“Hey, Keith. Does Lance have any other symptoms? Any bleeding? Changes in temperature?”

“No. No, I checked...”

“Okay. That’s a really good sign. Let him sleep for now. If his temperature drops or if he develops a fever, then call Coran”

Right. Curtis had originally been Lance’s babysitter. He didn’t doubt Curtis was lying to soothe him, but the curse would have handy right now

“Okay”

“Good. I know you’re worried about him, but he’s honestly better when you’re with him. I’ll let you get back to talking to Shiro, you don’t need me eavesdropping”

Keith instantly felt bad all over again. Shiro the one to the leave the bedroom, instead of Curtis as he told him to go back to sleep. A few moments passed before Keith heard the sounds of Shiro sitting on the sofa

“Sorry, kiddo. You know how much he likes Lance”

“I’m the one who’s sorry... I woke you up”

“Keith, you’re my brother. I’m glad I can here for you. What are you thinking?”

“That I could really use a hug right now”

“Oh, kiddo. This is Lance, he’ll be okay”

“But what if he’s not? He hasn’t been feeling well”

“I’m sure if it was serious he would have gone to Coran...”

“This him, he doesn’t want a fuss...”

Lance was so stupidly pigheaded about his desires not to be fussed over. He’d been so strong... now he was weakened

“Stop letting your head get the better of you”

“I didn’t say anything”

“I know you, kiddo. If he’s not better by the morning, bring him to Garrison. I know you’re going to worry yourself sick, but being there is the best thing you can do for him and your twins”

“Is... am I enough?”

“Keith, you’ll always be enough. He adores you. I might not have approved to begin with, but Lance has proven time and time again that he loves you. I know it’s tough, kiddo, but soon you’ll be father to your twins. You and Lance are going to get through this”

“God, I hope so...”

“You will. Now, get some rest. Lance is going to worry about you if look shitty in the morning”

“Lance always worries”

“Maybe we should get him a trophy for that?”

Keith gave a wet snort. If they were to do that, they’d constantly be trading the damn thing back and forth..

“Let’s not. Shiro... I’m worried for him”

“I know, kiddo. But this is Lance. He’s stronger than he looks. If he’s not better by morning, follow your gut instincts”

“I don’t know what my instincts are saying”

“They’re saying you’ll make the right call. Try to get some sleep”

“Yeah. I will... thanks, Shiro”

“Anytime, kiddo. Let me know it goes?”

“Yeah. I will”

Ending his call with Shiro, Keith tossed his phone to the other end of the sofa. Kosmo patiently sitting, still hugged close

“What do you think I should do?”

Trying to lick at his face, Kosmo wanted pats, not to be giving out life advice

“Yeah. I guess I’ll try get some sleep. The last two days have been a lot”

Training with Lotor. His talk with his mother. Seeing his father again. His talk with Lance. The party. Lance covered in blood. Yeah. He really should go to bed. If anything happened, he’d be there for Lance... hopefully making the right call in waiting until the morning.

[nelllraiser]

cat burglar | sasha & nell

LOCATION: a warehouse in the bend. PARTIES: @sasha-r-blog​ & @nelllraiser.  SUMMARY: sasha takes it upon herself to stop a break in, and nell is on the wrong end of the matters.  CONTAINS: gun use, gun violence

Another day another dollar was all the witch could think of as Nell lurked outside of an oversized warehouse in The Bend. The human bounties were especially boring to go after seeing as they lacked any upper hand in comparison to magic. At least when she was on the tail of someone supernatural she knew there was an element of surprise- or at least something to keep her on her toes. But money was money, and she still enjoyed bringing in the assholes who skipped out on their bail. Tonight was no different as she peered into one of the windows that paneled the outside of the building, just barely clearing the edge of it so that she might duck down if her quarry glanced her way. Thankfully, he seemed far too busy with counting the pallets that littered the place, scratching his head every now and then while he jotted numbers down in a notebook. All it would take was a simple sleeping spell and he’d be out like a light. But first she needed to get closer, perhaps get a better idea of what exactly it was he was doing in this shitty warehouse. If he were up to no good once again and repeating his criminal past, she wanted to know it about it. Carefully, she pushed her palm against the glass of the window before uttering a quiet spell, and in a moment it had melted away like water, pooling in a puddle on the ground beneath her. While the liquid glass settled, she hooked a leg over the frame of the window as gently as she could, being careful not to make a sound as she made her entrance.

The Bend seemed like the perfect place to look for crime, or at least Sasha assumed it was. In all the movies she’d watched it was usually run down places like where all the criminal stuff happened. So with her makeshift costume on and her change of clothes tucked neatly into her backpack, she made her way there. It didn’t take long to find a good place to perch and keep a lookout. There was a tall, flat roofed brick building at the corner of the block that seemed abandoned. And with a few well placed jumps and some careful footwork she found herself alone at the top, with a good amount of the Bend visible to her. So that was a good start to the night. Unfortunately, it seemed like the promising vantage point wasn’t leading to much. The neighborhood was surprisingly quiet. Sasha did spot a few people, some teenagers meeting up before heading into an alley. But upon closer inspection they were just making out, and Sasha decided to keep her lunch rather than continuing to watch to make sure some murderer didn’t jump out at them. They were probably fine.

It wasn’t until an hour or two later that another bit of movement caught Sasha’s eye. Across the street, next to a large warehouse, was a woman. Sasha moved to the edge of the roof, watching as the woman peaked through the window. Okay, that was suspicious. There were plenty of buildings here that from a quick glance seemed abandoned. But this one, despite seeming run down, at least had intact windows. So probably still in use? Maybe Sasha should have done some research before coming here. But either way, the way the woman was glancing in was clearly suspicious. If it was just some abandoned building to sneak into, why all the weird snooping? Sasha was about to lower herself onto the fire escape for a better view, when she felt a buzzing against her back. Shit. Fumbling with her backpack, Sasha quickly grabbed her phone and turned it to silent. 

Stupid rookie mistake, she should have just left her phone at home. When she turned back toward the woman, the glass in the window was gone, and the suspicious woman was lifting herself into the frame. Cool, good to know that the phone had distracted Sasha so much she completely missed the woman breaking the glass and almost getting inside. That could have been useful info. What if the woman had a crowbar on her to break the glass? Or a gun? Okay, Sasha was pretty sure she would have heard a gun go off even while distracted, but still. She took a deep breath and steadied herself before heading down the fire escape. When she was half way down she took another deep breath, and vaulted over the edge onto the street below, trying her best to land just as she practiced. Classic superhero landing pose, though more Spider Man than Iron Man, she wasn’t about to fist bump the pavement and break her only weapon. 

Despite Sasha’s strangely quiet landing, her clearing throat as she held the pose was likely audible. 

Nell couldn’t help but be paranoid as the hairs of her neck prickled directly before the clearing of a throat sounded behind her. The sound made her jump, though it wasn’t out of fear so much as a gut reaction of defense, head whipping around to look at whatever it was that had disturbed her. In the same movement, she drew a knife from it’s concealed hiding place on her body, brandishing it in front of her and placing it between herself and...what the fuck? Was there some sort of convention in town that she didn’t know about? That was the first thought in the witch’s mind as she took in the rag-tag ensemble before her, eyes not even sure where to land first on the strange mixture of clothing choice. Raking her gaze over the overflow of tiger printed spandex and fake leather, somehow the most confusing thing about the get-up were the razor-sharp teeth that were printed where the person’s mouth should be, stretched over the features that they hid. Where even to begin? “You know if you need some more quality cosplay my dad has an Etsy and worked the professional costume circuit in Vegas for years,” was the only thing she could think to whisper in the direction of this newly appeared enigma. Nevermind that she wasn’t exactly speaking to her father at the moment. 

The rustling of the man moving inside the warehouse was what pulled Nell’s attention away from the knock-off cat-man that had spawned from seemingly nowhere, and she was quickly reminded of why she was here. “Look- can you go play somewhere else?” she hissed under her breath towards the newcomer, not particularly keen on having her bounty disturbed. The words weren’t meant to be demeaning, as Nell truly and simply had no idea what to do with the train wreck that had stuck their nose into her business. What a cosplayer was doing in the middle of the Bend, she hadn’t the faintest idea— but she wasn’t going to let them get in her way. “I’m kinda busy.”

As the woman turned around to look at her Sasha began to rise to her feet and- oh shit, she had a knife! Sasha froze up at the sight of the suddenly brandished weapon. But it was fine, it was cool. Sasha had her own set of knives too. Or rather, The Claw did. 

The woman’s whispering sounded loud and clear in Sasha’s sensitive ears and made her stop right before making her heroic declarations to put down the knife. “I-I’m not a cosplayer and this isn’t some sort of game...”

That sounded cooler in her head, but Sasha continued to stare down the woman. If she was randomly pointing a knife at her that had to mean she was a criminal. Sasha put one of her hands out to the side, fingers curled, ready to summon her claws at any moment. Come on, you can do this.

“I’m The Claw, and I’m here to put a stop to your break in! What’s in there? Money, valuebles, a stockpile of illegal weapons? Whatever it is, you better make your peace with never getting your hands on them.”

Yeah... yeah! I’ve got this! She’s gotta be scared now. 

The somewhat puzzled yet exasperated expression on Nell’s features only grew more scrunched as the mysterious figure spoke. It was a girl. That much she could initially tell from the voice. She’d already parted her lips to ask what exactly the masked interloper was doing here when the knock-off Catwoman spoke again, and the witch’s eyebrows shot skyward in disbelief. “The Claw?” she echoed, a hint of unshared delight entering Nell’s tone. Who the hell ran around in spandex calling them themselves the Claw? She couldn’t stop the quiet chuckle that pressed past her lips as the rest of the girl’s words sank in. “I’m not breaking in. Well- I am breaking in, but I’m not the shitty person here. Make my- make my peace?” Nell sputtered in her continued amusement. “Babe- I hate to be the one to tell you this- actually I don’t really hate it, but-” Her sentence wouldn’t find it’s end as another voice rang out, Nell’s target apparently having overheard enough of their shared noises to finally take notice of the two young woman loitering in his warehouse window.

“Hey!” He called out, already taking angry strides in their direction. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” he demanded, reaching for some unseen weapon that resided in the inner pocket of his jacket.

The woman was...laughing... at The Claw. Sasha's heart sank, but she tried to replace the feeling with annoyance. The Claw wouldn’t get upset, so Sasha wouldn’t either. She would prove this woman wrong. This woman who apparently didn’t know what a superhero was. This woman who also just admitted to breaking in, as matter of fact! So yeah, even if she laughed at her that wasn’t going to stop Sasha from stopping this criminal. 

Sasha opened her mouth to speak, to cut off whatever excuse or taunt the stranger planned to throw at her, only for another voice to cut both of them off. In the window frame appeared a man, mid 30ss, not exactly friendly looking. Okay so that guy didn’t seem super happy but he also probably just didn’t get that Sasha was trying to help.

“Don’t worry!” She said, putting out a hand, her words faltering slightly when she saw him reaching for something in his jacket. “I’m here to stop this robber from breaking in. I’ve got it under control.”

Truly, Nell hadn’t intended to laugh in a malicious manner, but it was simply too bizarre to witness a self-proclaimed ‘hero’ running around White Crest, fighting crime and toting names such as ‘The Claw.’ She supposed in concept it wasn’t too bizarre. After all White Crest was in desperate need of as much help as it could get. But a masked do-gooder was a far cry from those she usually cleaned up the messes around this town. After all it wasn't as if hunters were running around in capes and hoods. Or...herself for that matter. Of course she’d never consider herself a hero in any sense of the word. She was fairly certain the people that Sasha was trying to emulate didn’t go around torturing sacrifices to bring their loved ones back from the dead. 

Nell’s head whipped around as Sasha and the man’s eyes met, and a frown was quick to turn her lips southwards as she saw him reaching for whatever he was concealing beneath his jacket. While Sasha spoke, Nell did her best to stay between the bounty and The Claw, a threatening and far more serious tone coming from her lips. “Don’t,” she commanded, the words meant both for the criminal and the attempted hero. 

“Or you’ll what?” The grungy man replied with a rough tone as he pulled a gun from its hiding place, training it on both the girls- dipping back and forth between them. “What are two little girls gonna do about it?” 

Nell kept her eyes trained on the man before saying, “Or I’ll start with breaking every finger in your hand, and then see if I wanna start on your other one.” As for The Claw… “You’ve got it wrong- he’s the piece of shit. I’m here to collect his bounty.”

Sasha froze at the sight of the gun, and just as quickly as it was pointed at them the woman moved between her and the man. It took too long for her to process, she should be quick on her feet, she knew that. What hero let someone come between them and a bullet?

“Bounty?” Sasha hated the way her voice squeaked up an octave, but to be fair, this was the first time she had seen a gun in real life and they were about two seconds from getting a much closer look if things kept up. “But you-”

Sasha may have misinterpreted things here. Were bounty hunters even legal? She guessed they weren’t any more illegal than a vigilante. She didn’t really have a good concept of them outside of action movies, and things were getting pretty actiony right now. 

She had barely heard the man speak, barely processed what the woman said either. But suddenly the man moved his hand again, a glint of metal catching in Sasha’s eyes. In hindsight, maybe it was just another threatening motion to get them to back off. But in a panic Sasha felt herself rushing past the woman. She wasn’t thinking. Maybe she should have. The next thing she knew one of her clawed hands was digging into the forearm of the man, the jacket sleeve torn and likely the skin under it as well. She didn’t hear the man's reaction, just an ear shattering bang as the gun hit the ground and misfired into the sidewalk. Sasha could only hear high pitched ringing after that, but she could see the man shout in pain and her grip on his arm tightened reflexively, as if he might pick up the gun somehow or draw another. 

“No!” Nell yelled as The Claw darted towards the man, eyes wide as she watched the girl make her attack, certain she was going to hear a gunshot pop off at any moment. And then a matching red would bloom on The Claw’s costume, staining the stripes as they seeped the girl’s life away. But no such thing happened. There was a bang, and Nell flinched as the bullet ricocheted to god knew where, and then it seemed The Claw was firmly latched onto the man’s gunarm. Had the girl brought hidden knives as well? But Nell hadn’t seen her draw them. The speed and high stakes of the situation didn’t allow for a closer look before she too was moving in on the man, fast and controlled in her approach as she kicked the man’s legs out from under him while he was distracted by The Claw. He landed hard on the warehouse floor, a grunt of pain falling from his as Nell planted a firm kick in his side once he was down. “I said, don’t!”

In the next moment, Nell tugged at her magic, using it to bend the man’s fingers into unnatural angles and making good on her promise of breaking them. While his yell filled the concrete walls, she grabbed at his wrists, taking special care to press down on the digits she’d just snapped, drawing a pair of handcuffs from a pocket and clicking them soundly around him. “Alright- okay,” she began, turning towards The Claw with a frown now that the man was no longer a threat. “Do you believe me now?” Gone was any of Nell’s previous amusement. 

Sasha only had her claws dug into the dude’s arm for a moment before the woman kicked his feet out from under him. Sasha didn’t try to keep her grip. She watched him fall and felt the sticky blood coating her hands. Oh god, gross. Her first instinct was to try to wipe the stuff off on her pants, but she really only had one of these costumes. So instead she held her clawed hand away from herself awkwardly as the woman kicked and cuffed the man.

Wait, how had she broken his fingers? Sasha blink, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Maybe like the bang had messed with her ears, the flash of the fallen gun had messed with her vision. It looked like they had just snapped by themselves. But she didn’t have much time to think about it. When the woman turned and spoke it sounded as if her voice was coming through water, but Sasha could still make out the words. 

“I-I didn’t realize there were bounty hunters here. I just saw you trying to break in and I thought...” Sasha's heart was beating hard in her chest, but as the adrenaline faded she started to feel anxiety creeping in, past the normal confidence that she tried to show as The Claw. “I didn’t realize.” 

For a moment Nell simply watched Sasha in vaguely concerned confusion, taking in the way she was holding her hand away from herself, apparently not all that accustomed to the blood she’d drawn. Another look towards the girl, and the witch could see something like shock beginning to grip The Claw’s body. It had been a couple of months since Nell had been reminded that not everyone was as accustomed to spilling blood and facing guns down, but as she looked at the costumed crusader— it was hard to miss the way her voice had changed, and Nell’s frustrated demeanour switched into something more sincere. “Hey- are you...alright? You can sit down or something if you need to. I have some water,” she said before turning to rummage in the bag she’d been carrying on her back, offering a water bottle soon after she located it. “You’re not hurt, right?” She hadn’t seen the man land a mark on the young woman, but what if that stray bullet hadn’t been all that stray, and Nell had missed it? WIth a quick and cursory glance over The Claw, Nell did her best to try and identify if she was bleeding anywhere. 

“Aren’t there bounty hunters everywhere?” Nell wasn’t entirely looking for an actual answer as she glanced once again toward the man they’d downed together. When he tried to open his mouth to speak, she granted him a warning growl before kicking one of his broken hands. Earning another howl of pain from the criminal. “Sorry- hold on,” she sighed at the girl before bending down to tug off the man’s beanie and stick it into his mouth as a makeshift gag. “There- now he won’t bother us, at least.” Taking some pity on the girl, she offered her name, hoping that might help set The Claw a little more at ease. “I’m Nell.” 

“I’m alright. I’m fine.” Sasha was fine. Mostly fine. She wasn’t hurt at least and the real bad guy had been taken down. But staring down a gun was a lot. Sasha took the water bottle, but realized she couldn’t risk taking off her mask to drink. Instead she poured a bit of it over her hand to clean it of blood, retracting her claws once they were no longer covered. 

“I’m not hurt I-” She stopped mid sentence as Nell roughly silenced the man. That was fine, all of this was fine. He was a bad guy after all. “I’m The Claw.” Wait, she had already told her that. “I um, thanks for the help. I’m sorry I thought you were trying the break in. I mean, you were, but you weren’t robbing anyone.”

She glanced down at the dude again. She didn’t exactly feel bad for him, not after threatening her and Nell. But at the same time she worried about how much she may have hurt him. “Do you do this a lot? Bounty hunting? I should probably know so I don’t mistake you for doing something bad when I’m out patrolling.” 

Nell didn’t intend to purse her lips at The Claw’s answer, but couldn’t help it as the other girl maintained that she was fine. The witch had heard that particular phrase more than once when it came to people reacting to the concerning outcomes of questionable experiences. If she were being entirely honest, she herself had used it on numerous occasions when she didn’t want to admit that something may not have been fine. But she wasn’t going to push the girl. “Alright.” At least she wasn’t hurt. Nell couldn’t help the way her eyes lingered on The Claw’s...well...claws as the girl poured water over them and her hand. So that had been how the damage was done? “That’s pretty neat,” she offered in a tone that she hoped was casual, nodding towards the girl’s hand. Was she a werewolf or something? What else had claws, but appeared to be human?

“Yeah, I remember,” Nell said with a tease in her voice, hoping to bring back at least a little levity to the situation. “The Claw. Pretty fitting I guess, isn’t it? Though...if you have more than one claw- shouldn’t you be The Claws?” A shrug later, and Nell was speaking again. “You helped, too. I mean you got the first hit on him.” Even though The Claw had successfully drawn blood and proven herself capable, Nell couldn't help the worry that was pooling in her stomach as she continued to watch the girl and listen to her mention attempted robbery. “You know...it’s pretty dangerous out here in White Crest. Also just in general. So what are you doing out here trying to stop supposed attempted robberies and shit?” Saving people in White Crest was an endless job, and more often than not you got hurt in the process. It was no surprise that Nell wasn’t keen on the thought of a spandexed and starry-eyed crusader making their way through the town’s problems. “But yeah- it’s my main source of income, so I’m generally sneaking around.” The word ‘patrolling’ only made Nell’s frown dip lower, concern continuing to grow in magnitude.

“It’s part of my powers,” Sasha said as she followed Nell’s gaze back towards her hand. “The Claws doesn’t roll off the tongue as much, I think my title is just fine.” Sasha couldn’t tell if Nell was making another jab at her, or just trying to lighten the mood, but at least the woman didn’t seem annoyed anymore. And that fact let Sasha relax slightly. 

“It’s my job. I’m here to protect White Crest.” Had Nell never heard of a superhero before? Even her reaction to seeing Sasha’s claws was weirdly nonchalant. “Not for money, not that there's anything wrong with helping for money. It is just my responsibility. I want to make sure the town is safe and those doing wrong are punished.” 

She tried to stand a bit taller, get back into the headspace of a hero. Like Nell said, she had just helped to take down a criminal. Maybe all the blood and guns was a bit unexpected but she had done it all the same. “I know White Crest is dangerous but I can handle it.” 

“Your powers…” Nell echoed as her gaze lingered on The Claw’s hands once more. It wasn’t exactly the word she would have used as she generally referred to the gifts of the supernatural community as ‘abilities’. Though she supposed it made sense for the girl to think of them as ‘powers’ if she was determined to run around playing superhero. “Are you...a werewolf?” Nell asked point-blank, seeing no other way around the question. She didn’t particularly feel like dancing around the subject, and they were the only humanoid creature she could think of in that moment that might employ their claws in such a way. 

“Your job?” Nell continued to question, not entirely sold on that description. “What do you mean by that? Why’s it your responsibility?” She could sympathize with wanting to make sure people were as safe as possible in White Crest, but she certainly didn’t consider it to be her job. It was just...something she was good at, and something she felt obligated to do. So where was this sense of duty coming from where it concerned The Claw? “Do you know?” Nell challenged, not entirely convinced. She couldn’t help but feel like she was somehow responsible for making sure this girl knew what she was truly getting into— the pain and heartbreak that lay down the line if she decided to take the weight of the world on her shoulders. “I know you wanna help- but it’s not always happy endings or whatever. Things go to shit. A lot.” And then years have passed and you don’t even know how you got here, but it’s too late to stop now. You can’t turn your back on people that need help. If Nell could spare someone the disillusionment she’d experienced over the last few years, and the bone-deep tiredness she felt half the time these days...she’d take that chance.

“I’m...no I’m not a werewolf.” Okay, Nell was clearly making fun of her now. “This isn’t some joke or silly halloween costume. It is my job. My responsibility. I have powers and I have to help people with them.” Sasha felt her face heat up. She wasn’t used to getting angry enough to raise her voice, and already she felt self conscious at it, clearing her throat and glancing back down at the cuffed man to avoid Nell’s questioning gaze.

“I know this town is dangerous. I can handle it. You don’t need to-” Treat me like a child. Act like I don’t know what I’m doing. Sasha clenched her jaw. She wasn’t going to argue. Nell had helped, but Sasha wasn’t going to try to explain this to her. 

“Are you taking him to the police?” Sasha motioned to the man. “Or wherever bounties go. I need to get back to my patrol.” It was a lie. Sasha was pretty sure she was going to head directly back to her dorm the moment she left Nell and sleep until she forgot about her annoyance and the gun going off and the feeling of blood between her fingers.

“I didn’t say it was any of that stuff,” Nell defended with a gut reaction, realizing she’d made a wrong step somewhere along the way. Certainly Nell had thought it to be a game at the beginning of their meeting, mistaking the girl for cosplay, but now she knew better. But if The Claw wasn’t a werewolf...what was she? Unless she simply didn’t know she was a werewolf. Maybe that was also a possibility. If that were the case, it would only fan the flames of Nell’s concern. How could the girl hope to save a world she didn’t have all the pieces of, and not get hurt in the process? “But you don’t,” Nell replied simply. “You don’t have to. Not if it gets to be too much or anything like that.” 

Nell recognized a stubbornness in the girl that was most likely mirrored in herself while The Claw defended her choices, and that only worried Nell more. But she also knew there was no sense fighting it if they were, indeed, alike in that trait. Any opposition would only be met with a stronger fight back. So if Nell couldn’t prevent the girl from taking a path that was rife with hardship, maybe she could at least help. “Fine,” was her short answer. “But if you have any questions— how can people contact you, anyway? Is there like a ‘The Claw’ twitter or something that you work off of?” If The Claw wouldn’t listen to her, then she’d simply have to settle for trying to keep an eye on the girl. 

The dismissal was obvious in the girl’s words, and Nell had no interest in overstaying her welcome at the moment. Besides, she did need to get this man back to the bail bonds agency. “I’m taking him,” Nell answered with her arms folded over her chest, not yet moving an inch. She usually utilized magic to get her bounties back to her employers, and though she’d already technically used magic in front of The Claw, she wasn’t about to do so again so openly when it seemed the other girl hadn’t noticed. “Good luck on your patrol.” She’d have to wait for The Claw to leave in order to finish her business here. 

But you were thinking it. You were thinking that I’m a joke. And you think that I can’t handle things either. But Sasha didn’t voice it. She didn’t want to get angrier at Nell, or vice versa, but it was already getting to that point. So she ignored the bounty hunter’s statement about what she knew she had to do or whatever, biting back a retort. Even the question about contacting her made Sasha irritated in the moment. She knew it was dumb, but it hadn’t been something she figured out yet since saving Connor and him asking her the same thing. Being reminded again that she had no easy way to contact someone without revealing who she was only made her worried that it would now come off as unprofessional to the bounty hunter. 

“I’m setting something up. Why don’t you give me your contact info and I’ll reach out to you if I need it.” A burner phone or some side account on something wouldn’t be hard, she just had to make sure it didn’t trace back to her. And behind the current annoyance and Nell, Sasha knew it would be smart to know how to contact her. Not that Sasha would need the help, but she didn’t want some weird bounty mix up to happen again. 

“Thanks.” Sasha said, unsure if Nell meant what she said about her patrol. At least she hadn’t detected any sarcasm in that, even if she seemed to want Sasha to get out of her hair soon.

Nell didn’t offer any more words as The Claw gave her a short answer, knowing that the peace between them was hanging by a thread. Instead she tucked a hand into her jacket pocket, magically summoning a piece of paper and pen from back home into her hand before bringing them back into sight. On the paper she wrote both her phone number, and the name ‘Penelope Vural’ before handing it over to the girl. “You can text me or find me on the town forum. Whatever works for you.” Friendship wasn’t on Nell’s mind as she offered the contact information, and instead she was hoping that she might be able to keep some sort of eye on the strange crusader. “Let me know if you ever need anything or whatever. Or have questions about who I’m after. Sometimes jobs take more than two hands...or claws, and I’m always down for action.” That was the best she felt she could do in making sure The Claw didn’t get herself killed, and without adding flame to the fire the witch had inadvertently built between them. 

Nell turned away from the self-made heroine, unable to bite her tongue any longer when the rock of dread was solidifying in her gut. She didn’t want to watch another person get hurt by White Crest, but she wasn’t about to stand by and let it happen either. When she turned to look over her shoulder, the other girl was already gone, and Nell hadn’t even gotten to give a well wishing of safety before the night air swallowed up The Claw. All she could think was that hopefully the town wouldn’t swallow the girl whole as well. 

[monkey-network]

The Glory of No More Heroes

Who would’ve thought a Wii game by Suda 51 would be the best slap in the face. Let’s not beat around the bush, No More Heroes throws you right in. When Travis says, “It’s Game Time”, he means it. The swinging of the light saber, the splatters of blood, the essence of this badass looking weeb fills me with joy every time I play. NMH is a game I cherish and I wanted to express why.

The Touchdown

Honestly when I think of a realistic take on an anime anti-hero, I immediately think Travis Touchdown. He’s basically Saitama from One Punch Man except not invincible, considerate, bald. He doesn’t have a luxurious status compared to everyone he meets and he’s fine with that. Then again, they both have this subconscious pride in either looking for a challenge or, for Travis, becoming #1. Then again, where Saitama’s story is about understanding the humility of being a hero, Travis’s story is more macabre with how far you’re willing to go with your aspirations.

Travis isn’t facing any bad guys that are out to take over something like the city or whatever. They’re cantankerous mercenaries where the job of assassin has driven them to the deep end. Travis goes down the same path, the garden of madness, but in a different light; he at first gets a kick out of facing his enemies like its a movie where he’ll get the girl at the end, but soon enough empathizes with the idea that not everyone feel the same way and everyone has their own goals in this gig. 

Beyond the finale, he doesn’t really possess a chip on his shoulder in the first game and that clashes with everyone that’s been through a lot. The game does a great job veiling the haunting spiral Travis goes through by making his attitude towards it all eclipse the harsh reality of his journey. He’s becoming a remorseless killer, but that never gets in the way of the thrill you and Travis gets when slashing down some dudes or talking shit. 

At the same time, he’s not a complete asshole in spite of how sees this game. This is generally where we have to talk about...

The Ranked Fights

Every assassin in NMH is memorably unique, some more than others but they nonetheless capture the point of the game, without ‘em this would’ve been a standard beat ‘em up all things considered. With the exclusion of one, the assassins aren’t as enthused with their job as Travis is and even that excluded one, Destroyman, takes it to a level far beyond Travis’s likeness. That is the thing, all of them are Travis yet taken to differing yet equally extreme turns as assassins. For Letz Shake and Dr. Peace, it’s a euphoric calling. For Shinobu, it’s about the honor of the fight. For Bad Girl and Holly Summers, it’s all they think they have for a life. Each believing that being an assassin was their exit to something better but, aside Shinobu who was spared, had their fate sealed until Travis showed up. It’s kinda how Batman internalizes his “No Kill Rule”, you kill one and you’re potentially going to continue until someone stops you. And really, you probably appreciate every one of them. A couple fall by the wayside personality wise, but most the assassins has their moment before and/or after that makes fighting them feel gratifying. It’s almost impossible to hate them and they each subconsciously welcome you to give it your all.

This helps makes Travis a great protagonist. Moments like when he holds the mic for the defeated Dr. Peace, when he spares Shinobu, especially when he feels remorse for not killing Holly himself are what shows the true man in him, the growing protagonist. He tends to be cocksure, but isn’t a full on scumbag to everyone and is never rewarded for his shitty moments. Travis has an ego, literally rising in the ranks, but he doesn’t consider himself so above the people he fights. He’s kinda the hero in a way of giving each assassin a humble end, a sense of satisfaction that comes with the 1v1 challenge. Travis doesn’t cheats his way to the top and the assassins aren’t stripped of their humanity regardless of the downward spiral that came with the job. 

He is no hero and the people you fight aren’t either hence the title, but at the end of the day, as badass as everyone is, everyone is human wanting that paradise. But, with that want comes...

The Work

I often think of No More Heroes as a balanced Male Power Fantasy. DMC5 and Bayonetta are ones where while the action is earnest and the cutscenes are spectacle gold, the joy lacks in everything else. NMH fixes that by making exploration genuinely fun to do. The jobs, the challenges, the training, the clothing you’re able to get, all pay just as well in investment as getting to the main event. I seriously get in the zone when I finally maxed out my combos, got the final beam katana, and get to the timed challenges where I’m slaying as fast as possible. The previous two I mentioned are already badass in their own right and it’s mostly up to you, the player, to make them dance with your gameplay. But I say NMH takes that extra step, while having simpler controls, to where it’s not just your gameplay that makes you feel epic, but taking your time to gradually make that epicness come to fruition not just with earning money but doing the odd jobs and exploring the city.

Santa Destroy feels like more of a character and you feel better integrated in that world than you admittedly do in most hack and slash games. It also helps that getting to the next ranked fight isn’t as frustrating in the grind. There are a couple stinker jobs and assassin gigs but they all pay well that beyond getting to the first event with Dr. Peace, earning money never felt like an insufferable chore. Once again, this plays well into Travis as a character. He’s not immediately given immense power locked away inside him; he earns it all. You train him, you collect those balls for the special moves, you earn money for those beam katanas, he’s strong enough to suplex and pile drive people effortlessly, but you know he’s capable of becoming better. The only thing you generally got no charge is the motorbike which honestly is the sweetest damn thing in the game. It adds up to a character that, in a typical modern environment, you make happen.

The Beauty

I say the genius of No More Heroes is its portrayal of everything. You’re not the chosen one destined for greatness, you’re an average anime lover that got his fighting skills from VHS tapes and won a weapon from eBay. You’re not fighting in grandiose locations but everyday buildings like a school, parking lot, the beach, train station, warehouse, etc. And again, you’re not fighting chaotic supernatural enemies but people with lives that just happen to love killing people. NMH makes a playground out of the mundane without making it cynical or boring; honestly reminiscent of home movies where you’d have epic battles take place in the backyard or mall lot but given that legit bloody action flare of video games. With the humor and music being the jimmies and cherry on top. 

This is why 1 works far better than the sequel but that’s for another time. 

Suda overall sets you in an believable environment to go nuts in but doesn’t sucker punch you when shit gets real. He gives you exactly what you crave but doesn’t make you out to be an emotionless killing machine. The synergy between the player and Travis is what makes NMH great, potentially underrated, and it never shames you for enjoying it. Even when there are no more heroes on every front, 

You still feel like one in the end

The Conclusion

So yeah, I love this game. It’s one where I’m just into playing it in one sitting and as I grew up, came to appreciate more than before. It isn’t the most complex unless you really dive into Suda51′s “Kill the Past” lore but doesn’t need to be. Like I said before, compared to most big titles nowadays, this one jumps right in and whether you find it deep it or not, it’s all compelling. It’s up there as a favorite with Great Teacher Onizuka where it’s an underrated celebration of the no shits given badass counter part of pop culture while having some meaningfulness in what it actually says. I’m glad I got into this game series.

[veryberrybrenda]

Just One More Bet

Pairing: Adam Du Mortain x Lucia Langford

Prompt: Guilt

Notes: I goggled the French curse words because I don’t speak French, so idk if they are 100% correct. I’m sorry in advance. This is Day 5 of Wayhaven Week 2020 by @otomefandomevents 

Respect was something that came easy to Lucia. Her work ethic in the office was what granted her the promotion to Detective after all. What people respected most about her was her ability to do what was needed. Whether it be staying late to finish paperwork or helping out Verda with his work, she was always the one who did what most people didn’t want to do. It was something she took pride in, that was the case until recently.

Adam made her question everything. He made her own body betray her. Pulse racing, cheeks flushed, voice stuttering. She was used to being the one with the cards in her hands, but the world decided her winning streak should come to an end.

But right now, she was in control. Perspiration made her bare feet slick against the blue mat. Her breathing was ragged as she kicked the punching bag. It stood its ground, barely swaying against her valley of kicks and punches, mocking her.

She had been getting better, thankfully, not a small part due to Adam. He had been sacrificing his brooding time to train her – make her stronger against those who wanted to hurt her.

Lucia hated the feeling of being helpless, having to rely on others. Being a burden doesn’t sit well with her independent nature. That was why she chose combat with Adam over research with Nate. Although she was better suited to learning about the weaknesses of supernaturals, with her unquenchable thirst for knowledge and all, knowledge itself, won’t stop a creature from snapping her arm off like it was some crispy taco.

Creak.

The sound of the door opening interrupted her assault on the punching bag as she turned to face the person responsible for the noise. Before even taking a glance, she already had a guess to who it could be.

Who else would train at 10 o'clock at night.

Standing at the doorway was a man with an approved expression, posture as stiff as always. “Your form is getting better,” Adam said, voice echoing in the large room.

“That’s progress,” Lucia panted, breathing rough from exertion.

Adam walked, his usual brisk strides, over to Lucia. His hand clasped behind his back as he eyed Lucia as though he were critiquing a piece of art. “Have your legs spread a bit wider when you punch. It will help you keep your balance better.”

A devilish grin formed on Lucia’s lips. This is too good. The man is setting himself up.

“Spread my legs. Got it,” she replied with a smirk, eyes searching for the slightest crack in his once impenetrable walls.

The flirtation only made Adam narrow his eyes, jaw clenched. “This is not some game, Detective. Your life is at stake.”

“I make fun where fun is needed. I heard it makes it easier to remember stuff,” Lucia quipped confidently as she awaited the leader’s comeback.

“Your life is no joke. It is precious to me- I mean us.” Adam’s eyes widen at his slip up, but he hastily plastered back on his stoic mask. “Besides, Agent Langford would be highly disappointed in me if something happened to you.”

His almost confession had Lucia blinking for a few seconds. Maybe there is hope after all. She just had to do what was necessary to get it out of him.

Taking a step closer, she fully gazed into his emerald eyes, searching for some sign of the real unguarded soul behind it. “Would you be disappointed if something were to happen to me?”

She saw it. The slightest twitch of his lips as he concentrated on maintaining his mask. “Yes, of course. It would be quite an annoyance to have one less team member to utilize during missions.” Although his expression was unreadable, his voice wasn’t. There was a slight pitch to it that betrayed him.

I hooked him. Now it’s time to see if the world will deal me a good hand.

This was turning into a gamble as she took another step, his eyes trailing her every move, but thankfully he wasn’t fleeing…yet. Rolling the dice yet again, she reached out to grab his hand, his fingers limp against hers. She could sense the smallest tensing of his fingers like he’s fighting himself not to hold her hand.

Lucia still gets surprised each time she feels the delicate skin of his palm. Where she expected them to be hard, rough, and calloused from his centuries of work, they were soft, smooth, and lacking any imperfection. He would make an amazing hand model.

His mouth opened then promptly closed shut with unsaid words. Adam’s pupils were blown, turning his eyes dark as the green disappeared. A battle is raging inside of those eyes. The man who wants to be set free vs. the vampire who has survived centuries of loneliness and pain. Lucia can only hope her bet on the former wins.

There is no better time than now to confront him. I just hope he doesn’t run away this time.

Her volume has died down to a mere whisper, “Adam, I want to say- “

As though he knew where she was going with this, he suddenly whips around, yanking his hand away from hers, and knocking down a wooden dummy in the process. Lucia flinches at the loud thud the dummy makes when it hit the floor. Adam just stares at the dummy menacingly as if its existence offended him.

After a few seconds of silence, Adam crouches down to pick up the dummy. His eyes still radiating hatred when he sees Lucia also couching down to help him.

“I got it!” Adam snarled, tone low and threatening.

“I want to help.” Her tone not making any room for argument, but Adam always seemed to find a way.

Adam grips the dummy. “I don’t want your help.” His voice coming out in a single breath as he heaves the dummy up.

She desperately tried to think of something to say - to prevent his walls from rising up again as he wipes the dust off the dummy. Clenching her hands, she builds her resolve that she hopes will be enough to stand against a 900-year-old vampire.

“Tu Omnia.” It comes out as more of a command than a statement, which she hopes Adam will obey.

The phrase had Adam’s body freezing up like ice, his back, taunt as it faced her.

“You are everything.” She said the phrase slowly, afraid that if she said them a little too quick, she would’ve spooked him. This time, raw emotion spills into her voice, making Adam’s knuckles tighten over the wooden dummy, fingers white.

“Where…did you hear that?” Adam questioned accusingly.

Determination filled Lucia once again. “You told me that just before the medication kicked in after the fight with the trappers.”

“I…never said such thing!” Adam shouted defensively that emphasized his continued digging of his grave.

She crossed her arms, anger starting to simmer inside of her at the man’s lies. “Just ask Nate. He was the one who translated it for me.”

“No, you’re wrong!” An animalistic snarl escapes from his lips. The wood under his fingers finally break with a snap. “Fils de pute (son of a bitch)!” Adam curses in what she assumes is French as he chucks the broken wood aimlessly to the side. He throws it with so much force that it shatters the mirror beside him, sending shards scattering everywhere.

Without a word, she bends down to pick up the shards on the ground. Adam is still turned away from her while she silently cleans up the collateral damage, something she has gotten too used to doing.

Unfortunately for her, she made the terrible mistake of forgetting that she’s bare foot and she steps on a shard, a subdued scream escaping from her lips.

“Fucking hell!” She shouts angrily, while clutching her injured foot. Crimson drips readily from the sizable shard embedded in the center of her foot.

Maybe it was the pain of her wound or the frustration of being lied to by the person she trusts the most, but she just couldn’t take it anymore. She felt tired. Tired of pretending that it didn’t hurt every time Adam would show her a piece of his heart then proceed to snatch it away, leaving her to deal with the consequences. She knew this was no way to live her life, but if she was honest with herself, she was addicted. Addicted to seeing him smile at a joke she made or when his gaze would soften around her. Living 900 years alone had its baggage, sure, but her stupid heart couldn’t help itself. She’s neck deep in her bad habit that she just can’t bring herself to quit.

Maybe I’ll win the next round, she keeps telling herself, but the cards were slipping from her hands and she was powerless to stop it.

She would never be able to quit Adam Du Mortain for as long as she breathes.

Tears were forming in her eyes as her own walls that were meant to defend her, came caving in, trapping her under the rubble.

-

Lucia’s scream pulls Adam from his state and he instantly appears behind her in a blur, arms wrapped around her waist as he gently eases her down on the mat away from the broken glass. Her hands are coated in warm blood. The aroma of it overpowered his senses, crying out to his primal side to surface, to drink it, but he suppresses it as he tucks a piece of stray hair away from her face that have come undone from her ponytail.

Her black eyes always fascinated him and the same time, annoyed him. They gave him a hard time because he could never see her pupils that mixed with her black iris. Not that he has to of course, her hammering heart always was a telltale sign of her true feelings - ones that he tries his best to ignore, for his sake. They were two black holes, reeling him in and refusing to let go until he was consumed by them. They contrasted nicely with her bright lavender hair that set her apart from everyone else, but right now, he wishes he could see those eyes.

Lucia’s bloody hands covered her dark eyes as she chokes on her sobs. The sight of her in such a state because of him made his heart constrict in guilt.

Crying didn’t come naturally to her, so it wasn’t the glass that had tears racking her body. It was something else – something that he refuses to acknowledge because once he does, he won’t be able to stop himself. The only time he had seen her cry was when she visited him when he got injured by the trappers. Her tears had weakened his walls, which made him say those words that he wished he could take back. Tu Omnia. The DMB had made his mind weak and it slipped out before he could stop himself. She hadn’t brought it up since and he thought she didn’t hear it, but he was surely mistaken.

He admired her tenacity. He would shoo her away and she would still find a way back to him like some lovesick puppy. Her fighting spirit reminded Adam of himself. He would sacrifice anything for his team – and for her. So the sight of her broken and beaten in his arms caused him to feel like a failure. He failed to protect her from danger – failed to protect her from himself.

I wish you could see how much you deserve someone better than me.

Adam laid a hand under the back of her head to hug her closer to him, hoping that it would offer her some peace in her battle to find the shadow of the man that had been lost to time. Her head instantly tucked into his chest, and so he did his best to shield her from the dangerous world that threatened to destroy who she was. He was glad that she wasn’t able to look at him because if she did, his walls would’ve instantly came crashing down.

Sliding one hand under her legs and the other under her back, he lifted her up bridal style in his strong arms. Her cries had turned into small whimpers now as she struggled to regain her composure. She felt lighter than he expected – smaller, more fragile. Her tendency to project strength, just like her mother, almost made him forget how delicate humans actually are.

As Adam was in the process of carrying her to her room, he passed by Nate, who instantly rushed towards him, expression worried as he took in Lucia bleeding and whimpering in his arms. Adam had hoped that no one would notice, but everyone must’ve heard her cries by now.

“What happened?” Nate asked, brows knitted in worry.

“Please, not now Nate.” Adam pleaded. He hoped that his old friend can understand the look in his eyes to back off.

Nate must’ve understood. “Okay. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Can you clean the broken glass in the training room?”

“Of course.” Nate replied softly. He quietly walked away, something that Adam found oddly strange, given his size.

With no more interruptions, Adam arrived at Lucia’s brightly decorated room. He was glad that the lights were off because the bright colors made his sensitive eyes hurt.

He slowly eased her down onto her bed, her hands stubbornly refused to let go. He had to peel them off of his waist, which wasn’t difficult since her lack of energy meant her resistance was weak.

He was no stranger to treating injuries. During his time as a human, he was an expert at stitching himself up, a skill he learned growing up as a knight. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom, running it under the tap. He also knew where the first aid kit was.

Under the sink cabinet and next to the shampoo bottles.

He memorized this detail when he helped Nate set up the room for her first stay at the Warehouse. With her being so clumsy, it was an extra precaution that had paid off.

He came back to Lucia, quiet and staring at the white ceiling, eyes swollen and glossy from crying. She slowly sat up when she saw him, black eyes still in a state of distress. He tried to ignore the way her sad eyes followed him as he began his work.

He gently grasped her ankle, glancing at her when it was time to pull the shard out. She understood his look and slowly nodded as she turned her gaze away from her foot. Adam firmly gripped the shard in his fingers and with one swift motion, yanked it out causing a whimper from Lucia. He quickly stopped the fresh flow of blood by cleaning it with the wet towel, her muscles tensing from the pain. After all the blood was cleaned, it was time for the most painful part. He poured the alcohol on a cotton ball and did his best to be quick and efficient. A few hisses signaled her pain. He was now wrapping her foot in gauze, careful not to make it too tight so the wound can breathe.

Once he finished, she still refused to look at him, her jaw clenched tightly.

It’s better for you to hate me. That makes it easier.

Thinking that there was nothing else he could do to ease her suffering, Adam stood up from the bed, but a small, weak hand gripped his arm, still fighting to keep him from walking away.

“Please, don’t leave.” It was mixture between a whisper and whimper that had Adam retreating back to the bed, Lucia’s hand still clutching his arm as though it was a life preserver in a stormy sea.

“I’m here, Luc.” He reassured her, eyes softening. “I won’t leave you.” He surprised himself at how naturally the words flowed from his mouth

“Can you lay next to me until I fall asleep?” She whispered, eyes pleading.

Even if Adam wanted to, no words would have come out of his mouth, so instead, he nodded and laid back on the bed, pulling the quilt over Lucia and tucking her small head in his chest. He could sense her heart slowing down as she drifted away from reality, but what he didn’t expect was his heartbeat to slow as well, synchronizing with hers. The familiar rhythm combined with her comforting scent of cherry blossoms lulled Adam to sleep, one where his nightmares wouldn’t dare touch him.    

[therealtsk]

okay so i think before I really start delving into this fandom I wanna give my thoughts on the game itself.  so MUCHO SPOILERS FOR CONTROL. IF YOU WANNA EXPERIENCE THIS AMAZING GAME YOURSELF DO NOT READ THIS POST.  You good? Alright, let’s go. 

So. First, I wanna talk about the game-play of CONTROL.  It’s fucking amazing. In a year where I played five incredibly strong games (Bloodborne, Uncharted 4, Red Dead Redemption 2, God of War and of course, CONTROL), it was my favorite game. In fact, I think it might be my favorite game of 2019.  It has something that all of the other games lacked, with the possible exception of U4...the core gameplay was inherently fun. The word “Next-gen” gets tossed around a lot in the gaming world, but this was the first thing I played that truly felt like it. The gameplay of CONTROL is at once simple and wildly different: I think I speak for most people when I say that the Launch ability is my favorite gameplay aspect: it just feels amazing to use, even after a year of playing it. It’s the closest I think a game has ever come to truly come (for me) to making me understand the sort of power the character wields in a way that isn’t superficial. From the sound design to the rumbles of the controller, to the superb animation, all of it comes together to make you feel powerful.  It’s amazing.  Okay so now that’s over, let’s talk about the world, characters, and story, the biggest reasons I love this game. As a long time fan of the more surreal and ethereal types of the supernatural, CONTROL immediately stood out to me with it’s central location: The Oldest House. What an incredible setting for a game, but also just what an incredible setting in general? When I walk through the hallowed halls of the House, I never feel at ease. I think it’s a fantastic combination of visual and audio design, but the House has a way of making you feel both unwanted and watched: even with all of the human touches the Bureau has scattered throughout the map, The House feels starkly inhuman- the ceiling too high,the doorways slightly too broad. Even after centuries of co-existing with humanity, the House has not quite adapted to humans. And yet there’s something also irresistibly compelling about wandering a place you know, logically, you probably shouldn’t be. It’s a fantastic way of putting you inside Jesse’s shoes: you feel both her fear and the powerful call of the unknown that beckons her to the darkest corners of the House.  The Altered Items themselves are also just...fascinating. The twisting of the mundane into the paranormal- there’s a word I’m looking for, but I can’t find at the moment. I know some people got annoyed with all of the reading in the game, but personally, I loved scanning through every document, case file, and correspondence. Dead Letters in particular caught my imagination: I’ve never stopped thinking about the woman trapped in the phone since I read about it, I even turned it into an original short story. CONTROL’s world feels very much lived-in, like it has history and activity outside of the game’s story, which is crucial to the livelihood of any setting.  Now, for the characters: Jesse Faden is perhaps my favorite video game character to date. I love her so much, words can’t describe, but I’m gonna try anyway. I love her sass, her jump-down-and-figure-out-a-plan-on-the-way-there attitude, her frustration and quiet sadness, her anxieties and ultimately- her love. Jesse Faden loves her brother so much that she literally threw away any chance she could have had at a normal, peaceful life and risked everything for him, not even knowing if he was still alive. As a proud brother of two siblings, It’s nice to see familial ties being just as strong in games as romantic ones.  Speaking of romantic ones, Emily freaking Pope am I right??? The minute Jesse and her sat down at the table I was like :eyes: “these vibes...the chemistry...the delivery...” I don’t care what anyone says Jesse and Emily are gay for each other and you cannot tell me otherwise, just look at all of their interactions. Remedy thank you for giving me another ship to stan until i die  The other characters are also amazing! I love my bois Simon Arish and Fredrick Langston, adorable dorks that they are. RIP Marshall but damn you were badass- also your long coat. Remedy make merch so I can buy it pls.  As for the more supernatural characters: Polaris.  Oh my god I love Polaris. My first assumption was that Jesse was speaking to us, the player, but learning the truth about what Polaris was and her own character was so fantastic- I would literally watch so much of just Jesse and Polaris communicating, the idea of humans and these...ethereal life-forms co-existing is just fascinating.  And then there’s the Hiss. I have been obsessed with the Hiss since I first heard those words. You are a worm through time. Like...the idea of a malignant radio wave, burring into your mind and planting itself within you, overriding your thoughts with song...just fucking chills. I can’t wait to write about this audible horror. 

Also just something I wanna note before I wrap this rambling thing up: CONTROL was not a game I expected this from, but I love how they handled representation in it: they never call attention to it or try to get clout for it, but they have a wide scattering of nationalities and a very even split of women and men: it was just so nice to have a game that didn’t feel dominated by dudes, you know?  Anyway: the story. I think this is where the game lost a lot of people, but I thought the way that it unfolded was fantastic, and every ending (Base game, Foundation, AWE) has left me excited to see more. I think my favorite plotlines thus far comes from the DLC’s: The Astral Politics and, of course-  Alan.  Fucking. Wake. 

But more on that in a bit. I think The Board and the presentation of them was fantastic: It’s so hard to for humans to write utterly in-human mindsets and persons, but I think Remedy’s team did a truly amazing job with The Board. Down to the method of communication alone, blasting divided concepts into Jesse’s thoughts that are literally shattering into synonyms because they don’t quite understand human language is just...aaaaaaahhhh, so good. And then The Foundation, my favorite DLC out of the two: So much expansion on the lore of both The Board and The House itself. The implication that The Board may, in fact, be just as much of an intruder as the Hiss are is chilling, and of course, The Foundation gave us even more Emily/Jesse ship fuel and development so like come on. As for the AWE DLC: I know a lot of people were disappointing with it, and I get that! Don’t get me wrong, when it ended, I literally went: “Wait, that’s it? That can’t be it.” I was expecting something roughly around the same length as the Foundation, and I think other people were too. Once I got over the initial surge, though, I sat down and really thought about it.  Story and content wise, Foundation is 100% the better DLC. But gameplay-wise? Oh man, AWE was so much more thrilling. I think this lends to Remedy’s incredibly atmosphere building, but after spending hours of Control feeling like an unstoppable badass, for them to completely turn it on it’s head and make me feel like a rat trapped in a maze, desperately lunging for any light and being utterly terrified of the dark: god, what an amazing fight the entire Third Thing was. The Service Tunnel in particular had me shook, man.  Was AWE short and felt more like a teaser trailer for Alan Wake 2? Yeah. Was it still really fun? Yes. And also, I think people missed out on how much lore we got for CONTROL, as well! Two words: Chester Bless.  So, to sum this completely chaotic post up: I adore CONTROL, every bit of it, and I can’t wait to talk to you y’all about theories, fics, and the like. 

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 38

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse.

NEW WARNING - fictional police brutality. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Masterlist on my profile!

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen @emberbent @leo-writer @silver-stormy . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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

Hot rage surged and Rhonda slapped a palm on the plexiglass wall. The force made her shoulder flare in agony, but she ignored it. “FUCKING GODDAMMIT!” she screamed. “He fucking brought the girls!” A cluster of guards was closing around the whirling blue sparks and the orange forcefield growing like an angry bubble. The team had splintered throughout the yard and mess hall. Battered as she was, with gashed arms, a ruined shoulder, and something wrong with her ribs, Rhonda was filled with enough rage to fight even the Juggernaut if she had to. She kicked off her shoes and yanked the grimy socks off her feet.

“Um, Rhonda?” Wade asked, “What are you doing? I know you’re a little cracked, but this isn’t the beach.” He looked around the office, as if confirming for himself that this was indeed not the beach.

She rounded on Wade and said, “Stay here and watch these two. Make sure they don’t do anything stupid.” With a glare at Mimi and Robinson, she demanded, “Let me out.”

Mimi flicked her tongue, clicking her teeth and raising her brow. She gestured with her palms up. “Okay, bitch, give them hell.”

She waved a finger and Robinson beeped the door open for Rhonda to slip out. She took two of the discarded collars with her, clicking them closed.

Rhonda threaded through inmates. The ones strong enough to fight had either joined Colossus and Beast against the DMC or had decided to settle their own grudges amongst themselves - or against the X-men, ignoring the warnings from Mimi and Guestbook. As she ran on the metal walkways, each time her foot met the surface, she sent a strong electric pulse. Anyone close to her took a nasty shock, stunned and needed a moment to recover. It kept everyone from getting close to grab her.

When she was as close as the network of walkways would allow, she was above the guards attacking the young women on the ground floor. Rhonda threw one of the collars like a frisbee, and shot a spark after it. The explosive in the block detonated over their heads and as they looked up and around for the source, she shouted to get their attention. 

Yukio and Negasonic almost faltered in their guard at the sight of their friend, Negasonic’s unofficial adoptive mother. She had a wide, sinister grin as she antagonized the officers into following her. Her hair was tangled and frizzy, one sleeve completely torn away, and splattered with blood in a few spots. She looked every bit like some kind of supernatural monster.

The guards, faces obscured in their gear, shouted and tried to clamber up the stairs to a spot where they would be able to hit her with a cattle prod or a new collar. Rhonda dodged and maneuvered through the railing, landing on the concrete floor with a roll. She tossed the other collar and sent a spark to detonate it at the guards’ feet. It was so cold she could hardly feel her fingers, toes, or her bare arm, but she felt the glass in her feet as she darted across the yard toward the solitary unit, drawing the guards away from her girls. 

Her lungs burned, her feet burned, her eyes burned, but as long as she was still conscious, it didn’t matter. The Department of Mutant Control would burn too.

--

Screams of combat and death echoed through the Icebox, a grim chorus in a cathedral of carnage. Cable and Domino had no qualms about killing anyone who attacked them. Nightcrawler and Storm did their best to use non-lethal means, but certainly they had a few fatalities among the officers and inmates. Yukio and Negasonic Teenage Warhead seemed to be the ones most careful to follow the X-Men’s first rule.

From the office, Wade cheered at the top of his lungs about X-Force. Mimi regarded the scene as if she were watching a casino floor - a multitude of individual games making a greater mosaic of risk and reward, all the while calculating her own chances of escaping alive.

“I think that’s Knowles,” Robinson pointed at a guard who had lost his helmet and took a hard hit to the head with Nightcrawler’s sword hilts. “Haha, he’s a prick!” The turncoat guard was maybe a little too giddy as his coworkers fell one by one to the attacking mutants.

Wade was only too happy to share Robinson’s glee. “Oooh, heyyy,” Wade drawled. “We got a plan for the free mini grenades?” he turned and jerked his thumb at the pile of collars. “‘Cause I have an idea.”

--

All the lights in the Icebox flickered, and in bursts the light bulbs throughout the whole complex started shattering. The screens in the office went dead for a moment, before emergency power kicked on, along with pale green emergency lights. Spilled blood looked black, living skin looked sickly, the Icebox looked utterly alien.

When the electricity went haywire, Colossus froze. His gaze wildly swept up to the office, and across the yard and mess hall. Rhonda was nowhere in sight. For the X-Men’s part, the fight was handled. The remaining inmates made it clear they wouldn’t fight. Storm, Cable, and Domino dragged unconscious and handcuffed people into a pile to save warmth until someone came for them. Yukio and Negasonic caught up with Colossus, tripping over their own words to tell him something had happened, Rhonda had done something.

“Slow down,” he told his rising panic as much as he told the young women. “Where is she?” 

“She ran that way,” Negasonic pointed down the far end of the mess hall. 

He was already running, with his mentees following closely as he asked, “How many guards followed her?”

“It was hard to tell,” Yukio’s breath came out in little grey puffs of steam. “At least five.”

As they got closer, wailing and howling echoed down the dark halls to them. Fearing the worst, Colossus followed the screams until he saw flashes of light from behind a door that stood ajar. Above the door read bold lettering, SOLITARY HOUSING UNIT. He bolted for it and threw it open. 

The scene of bodies made him stop short. Someone closer to the door was shrieking in agony before they fell to the ground, convulsing as threads of blue-green electricity danced and laced over the body. In seconds, the screams stopped. A few other bodies lay on the floor, smoke rising from their corpses. Any skin that was visible was charred, blackened. The room was dark, except for the dim emergency lights, but Piotr could make out the figure further down the cell block, where the lightning was coming from. They wore a filthy jumpsuit that should have been yellow. One arm was completely bare and littered with tattoos.

“Rhonda!” he called. 

Surprised, the forks and spears of lightning retreated until the figure was wreathed in jagged bright lines around their shoulders.

“Is she alive?” Negasonic asked behind him.

“Wait here,” he said breathlessly. Carefully, slowly, Colossus entered the unit. He could hear his wife’s ragged, heavy breathing, and saw her shoulders heaving. He saw numerous dead inmates on the floor stretching through the whole unit. Those looked like they had died of stabbing or blunt trauma. What froze his heart was the six bodies of officers on the floor that had clearly been electrocuted with Rhonda’s abilities. It made him sick, but after seeing other areas in the Icebox - the chaos, the raw ferocity of the inmates and the cruelty of the guards - everything inside him screamed to get his loved ones out of this place. “They can’t hurt you anymore,” he said loudly. She was breathing so heavy he thought she was sobbing. She still emanated lightning from most of her body, and her lack of response was worrying. The floor around her was streaked with blood and she was barefoot.

“Rhonda,” he tried again, softer, “You don’t have to fight anymore.” He took slow steps forward. He had to step over a dead inmate.

Between the heaving breaths, Rhonda managed to rasp out, “You see what I am now.”

Colossus was finally close enough to make out some details in her face - bruises, busted lip, blood-matted hair at her temple, scratches over her cheeks, paler and greener that she should be, or was that the emergency lights playing tricks on her skin? “I see you are injured and sick,” he answered simply. “The jet is waiting, let’s get out of here.”

She took a step back, extending one palm to lean on the wall beside her. “I killed these people.”

“Self defense,” he said numbly.

Rhonda shook her head and her eyes briefly rolled back before she answered, “Not all of it.”

It was dangerous to touch her while she was electrified like this. Colossus could do it, but it would hurt and if anyone else touched him, all the more dangerous for them. He had to get through to her and get her to come along. 

“What’s happening?” Yukio was barely audible from the hallway.

Throat tight, Piotr locked eyes with his wife cited their wedding vows in Russian, “[I will love you until all the stars go dark, and after.]”

Her brows lifted and she exhaled a shallow breath. “[You love who I used to be.]” Piotr heard hopelessness and defeat in her voice.

“Can we talk about this at home?” he urged, “Will you please come home with me?” He was close enough now that he held out his hand, expecting her to pull herself together and take it.

She shifted, and there was a sticky, wet sound under her feet. “You know no one will let me stay there, and they shouldn’t.”

“Rhonda!” Piotr pleaded. “That’s not true!” He thought of one last thing that he hoped would get through to her. He focused on every memory he could recall of holding her, any time he was touching her skin, and in a few seconds his armor melted away to reveal his own skin. “I’m not leaving this place without you. Please, let’s go.”

Even in the dim emergency lights, Rhonda had no trouble making out his soft, dark hair and bold blue eyes and the short, thick beard framing his face. How many times had she envisioned his face during her captivity? Her head hurt, she felt like she was in a strange dream. His long, muscular arms extended toward her. He was her home, everything good in the world. Hope sparked in her soul - hope that her worst fears were wrong, that Piotr could still be her home and that maybe there was a way she could move forward from the horrors of the Icebox--

There was movement in the corner of her vision, a silhouette rising from the floor and holding something sharp.

Without a thought, Rhonda sent a powerful spike of lightning surging through the air, just past Piotr's elbow and striking the figure behind him. The body fell, twitching and smoking, and a long shiv made from a piece of sheet metal clattered on the floor. 

In the split second it had taken Rhonda to fire off the bolt of lightning, Piotr had armored up again out of reflex. He looked down at the fallen inmate, a man with crusty blond hair, who had gotten within inches of being able to stab him. He quickly looked back at his wife, who had furrowed her brow, electricity finally under control. 

She wouldn't meet his eyes, instead looking down and away. “Are we going?" she asked with a hard edge. 

Taking a few hobbling steps, she struggled to breathe evenly and was leaving bloody footprints. Piotr heard a sickening crunch in each step. “Sladkaya, what happened to your feet?” It would take too long to reach the jet like this. Piotr swept her into his arms, ignoring her pained grunt, and sprinted for the way out. 

Negasonic and Yukio followed on his heels, running for the main area where the rest of the team was. Beast, Cable, Domino, and some of the inmates had already headed back down the tunnel to the jet, while Storm and the others waited in the mess hall to make sure everyone was accounted for. As Colossus reached her, Storm asked, “You found her?” She gasped when she saw her friend’s condition.

“Where is Beast?” he asked urgently.

Storm shook her head, “He took some of the injured in the railcar for the jet.”

“KURT!” the Russian shouted. At the bamf sound, he turned and begged, “Please, can you take her? You can get her to Hank faster than me, please!”

Nightcrawler gave a hurried affirmative as he took the wheezing, barely conscious woman in his arms, and disappeared to catch up with Beast and the first wave of injured mutants.

Wade and two more inmates ran up to Colossus, each holding an armful of collars. “Hey, big guy!” he beamed. “You found Little Miss Rampage?” He shared the same bright grin with the younger mutants with him, “Hi, Yukio!”

“Yes, and we have to go,” he answered impatiently. He was already heading for the way out and ushering everyone else along. 

Negasonic frowned, “What’s with the collars? What the fuck are you doing?”

Wade’s shoulders bounced in a playful shrug. “We’re going to put them in a nice pile by the door so we can wreck this shitbox on our way out.” 

The inmate beside him, a thin woman with dark grey scales, added seriously, “We just need a way to detonate them.”

The crazed mercenary raised his brows pointedly, “I’d use a gun, but NOBODY WILL GIVE ME ONE.”

Negasonic pursed her lips, then said, “Fine, I can do it. But we have to go, now.”

When the Icebox was clear of everyone who was leaving on the X-Jet, Wade, Mimi, and Robinson piled the collars near the main entrance that DMC personnel used. Yukio led Mimi and Robinson down the tunnel, while Wade and Negasonic waited a short delay before she sent a wave of energy that set off all the collars’ explosives. Each individual charge wasn’t much, but together it was a significant blast. The structure around the entrance crumbled, and cracks radiated in the rock along the tunnel.

“Fuck,” Negasonic spat. She and Wade sprinted headlong to catch up with the others, shouting for them to hurry because the whole tunnel could collapse.

“We did pretty good,” Wade huffed. “This went great. Let’s make an annual prison break tradition, huh? Good team building! Like an escape room, but extreme.”

[marshmallow-phd]

Lies Untold

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Luhan x Reader

Summary: For generations, your family has been the protectors of mankind. You were considered one of the best and due to that reputation, you were sent on what could be the most important mission for the organization. Going under cover in a college to sniff out a particularly large and threatening wolf pack seemed easy enough. But when you meet one of the members, everything you’ve known since birth will be overturned and your loyalty to your family and heritage will be tested.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final

**

Paper was strewn everywhere. A corkboard full of photographs and strings and sticky notes that would make any sane person think that a major conspiracy theorist lived here was currently leaning against a wall. And maybe that’s what you were, a person losing grip on reality as you tried to tie everything together. You still weren’t sure of the pack’s size or ranking even after another week of following them around. Confirming who was apart of the wolves was proving more difficult than you’d first imagined. Innie tended to hangout with the same group and they would mention others in brief conversation, but you couldn’t find faces to go with the unknown names.

One thing that you were at least ninety percent certain of was the fact that the professor – named Kim Junmyeon according to the university directory – was the alpha. How he was able to control such a large pack all by himself was something you couldn’t fathom, but somehow he managed it. You’d witnessed the others going to him for advice or permission for things and he just had that alpha aura radiating off of him. He wasn’t genetically an alpha, from what you observed. God, you hoped you never had to encounter one of those. Even with all your training, you didn’t think you could survive that fight.

Standing in front of the board that was currently giving you a headache, your eyes kept lingering on one wolf in particular. With his long, forehead-covering hair and soft, welcoming eyes, you found yourself in a strange struggle that you’d never experienced before. Granted, this was the first time you’d ever been this close to a pack before that wasn’t on a hunt. You were forced to be around them in their fake forms, their human forms, and you were pretty sure it was messing with your head.

No. You were strong enough for this. You could keep your focus. You would not fall victim to the façade that was their human shapes. They were monsters that shouldn’t exist. Your family’s history was enough to prove that.

But even now, your skin tingled where Luhan’s fingers had brushed up against your hand. The night before, he even made a brief cameo in your dream. You couldn’t remember the exact details of the dream; you weren’t even sure if there was a plotline or if it was just a bunch of random images. You do remember Luhan’s face making an appearance, though, and it was aggravating you.

Feeling your blood beginning to boil in your veins at your frustration, you swiped up your bag that was carrying your surveillance equipment and threw it over your shoulder before stomping out of the apartment.

You needed to get back in the game. You needed to focus on finding a way to get to the book and give your family the upper hand it had always been lacking. That’s why you were sent here. This was no time to start questioning your world view.

The only thing you could think of doing at the moment was taking another trip to the museum. Last time you were staking the place out,  you’d noticed the curator and the girl who’s name you figured out was Kita disappear into a hallway guarded by a locked door. The only way in was with a key card. Perhaps spending another round in the building would help you create a game plan for getting one of those key cards without leaving a trail and checking out if the book was hidden in one of those off-limits rooms.

Instead of taking the bus this time, though, you decided to walk off the pent up energy in your muscles. It was a couple miles and would take you through the central business district, but that was just another stroll through the park for you.

Walking down the sidewalk, you had your headphones in your ears with no music playing to give off the illusion that you were not to be disturbed while you were able to keep your eyes open for anything suspicious. Many families and friend groups were taking advantage of this beautiful day, milling about among the shops and little locally owned restaurants. They all looked so happy, unaware of the secret world around them.

According to another faction among the organization - one that’s job was to keep an eye on any witch covens - there was a group of witches in the neighboring town. This college city used to have it’s own for several generations, but something happened about two years ago and they were all stripped of their magic, leaving the area to be completely controlled by the wolves. And every single human in this place was completely unaware of the transition.

Sometimes, you wondered what it would be like to be one of them, to not have been trained since the age of four on how to fight, to kill, to keep those you loved safe. What did that blissful ignorance feel like? Was it as happy as everyone seemed to make it?

You didn’t hate being a hunter. Never would you say that you loved it; that might sound a little sadistic and you saved that description for Johnny. It was simply your life and you’d never thought about trading for the other side for it before. You didn’t know what that other side was like. Not like your mother, who knew it very well. She came into this life after meeting your father. Well, more like she met your father because of this life.

She’d been walking home from an evening class at her university one night when an omega attacked her. Your father had been tracking it down and lost the trail for just a few minutes, but it was enough for the omega to find it’s next prey. She never went into detail about it, but to this day your mother carried the claw marks on her stomach. As your father nursed her back to health, they fell in love and she vowed to be apart of the fight. She acknowledged that she got lucky and that there were others that wouldn’t be. It was now her mission to make the number of unlucky ones decline as much as she was able to.

Your mother had always stated she never regretted her decision and she’s never looked back, missing her old life. So, that had to mean that you had the better end of the deal, right?

“(y/n)!”

No. Keep walking. Pretend you didn’t hear.

But the last person you needed to see right now kept calling after you. By the direction his voice was coming from, you knew he was behind you. You didn’t stop. You couldn’t speed up either, because that would be acknowledging the fact that you could hear him. Maybe you’d get lucky and he’d give up.

That was not the case. He caught up to you quickly, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder.

Instincts kicked in and you grabbed his hand, twisting it as you turned around. You weren’t using your full strength and so you weren’t surprised in the slightest when he didn’t show any sign of pain like any ordinary human would. But you faked the surprise, mostly to keep up the act that you hadn’t heard him.

“Shit, you scared me,” you said breathily to add to the charade. You took out the earbuds and stuffed them in your pocket before he could pick up on the lack of music.

“I guess I should have yelled louder,” Luhan chuckled. You let him go and he ran his fingers through his blonde hair, still smiling at you. There was no way that hair could be natural, right? And why was he always smiling around you? You didn’t exactly give off the vibe of sugar, spice, and everything nice. “Are you feeling better?”

You blinked at him, confused. That day at the pizzeria was nearly a week ago. And he was genuinely asking you about your health? “Um, yeah. I think I just ate something weird that day for breakfast.”

He nodded. “Good, good.” Bouncing from foot to foot, he gave off a sense of nervousness. “Are you busy right now?”

“Oh. Um.” You frowned, biting your bottom lip. Was he about to ask to spend some one-on-one time with you? Would that be a good idea if you said yes? The museum would still be there to check out again on another day and you could gain some helpful insight on his pack by speaking with him. Shaking your head, you turned your frown upside down. “No, I’m not. Why?”

A laugh escaped him as if he was taken by surprise by your answer. “Do you want to grab a cup of coffee? With me, that is.”

“Sure.”

Did you just freaking giggle? That wasn’t even you acting as the sweet one. It just… came out after his self-correction. What the hell was going on?

Taking a breath, you pointed to a coffee shop just at the corner of the block and started for it. “There’s that one-”

“No, not that one!” Luhan shouted as he stopped you with a grip on your upper arm. You stared at him wide eyed at the sudden outburst. Clearing his throat, he started to tug you to another shop across the street. “Their coffee sucks. And I know one of the staffers. She’s really nosy and we’d hardly be able to talk because she’d be hovering the whole time.”

“Really?” You looked over your shoulder at the reject shop, mentally notating it in your metaphorical files. Was it a mate that worked there? That could come in handy later.

“Yeah, this one’s much better,” he replied as he pulled you through the crosswalk, careful to keep an eye out for any runaway traffic. His hand had slipped down from your arm to your exposed hand and that fiery tingle was back in full force. Your heart was pounding in your chest and this time… you didn’t think you could completely blame it on your curved fight or flight senses.

Once inside, he let go to which you were both relieved with and aching for more. You shoved your hands in your pockets to keep them under control. Luhan asked for your order, but you shrugged and told him to surprise you. He got a cheeky look in his eye and ran to the front, leaving you alone to scan the area. An empty table for two was sitting in a corner near the front of the store, but right when you took a step towards it, Luhan was back.

“Let’s sit back there instead,” he suggested, nodding towards a booth that was mostly hidden from the rest of the shops patrons.

You really wanted to laugh. Luhan’s attempt to avoid running into or being seen by anyone he knew was painfully obvious and amateurish. Maybe someday you could give him some pointers at subtly.

You blinked, stopping in your tracks. Why did that thought cross your mind? There would never be a someday. Once your mission was finished, you’d never seen him again. The world might never see him again.

Why was that hurting your heart?

“(y/n)?”

Luhan’s voice pulled you out of your mixed up thoughts. “Yeah?”

“You okay?” he asked, his head tilted to the side in a studying manner.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you insisted as you quickly slid into the booth.

Before he could sit down across from you, the barista at the counter called out, “Order for Luhan ready at the bar.”

He took off, coming back a few seconds later with two plastic cups of cream colored liquid, the sound of the ice cubes clinking against each other filling the silence that was settling between you two. Unsure of what else to do, you took a sip from the cup he’d set in front of you. The strange flavor mixed in with the coffee took you by surprise, strangling a weird sound of you.

“What is this?” you asked, your face surely twisting into a look of disgust. It wasn’t necessarily that gross, it was just… not normal.

“It’s raspberry mocha,” Luhan answered while laughing at your reaction. “If you don’t like it, I can go get you something else.” He reached out for the cup, but you scooted it closer to you instead.

“No, it’s fine,” you sighed. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” For a moment, you just tapped your finger against the thin lid of the cup. You were searching for something to say, to get the conversation rolling, but you didn’t want to come off as digging a little too much, raising his suspicions. “So, do you-”

“Why did you-”

Luhan had started speaking at the exact same time as you and the two of you stop simultaneously as well. Short, awkward laughs came from both of you.

“Go ahead,” Luhan waved at you, palm up.

“No, you go ahead,” you insisted.

Lowering his head, Luhan sighed. He lifted his face again, sitting back in the booth, a half smile pulling up in the corner of his lips. It wasn’t even a full grin, but it was relaxing you where you sat. Whatever was going on inside of your chest, you still didn’t have a sane explanation, but you had a feeling it wouldn’t be going away any time soon. Especially if you kept letting yourself be around Luhan like this.

“Why did you come here?” he asked very bluntly.

The way he stated the question took you by surprise, almost like…. No. There was no way he could know. He wouldn’t be sitting across from you so relaxed like this. He would have told the rest of his pack and you would be dead. Besides, you’d been more than careful with your identity. Not even Innie knew the truth.

You shrugged. “I needed a change of pace. I’m from… I guess you could call it a compound, but that makes it sound a bit cultish, doesn’t it?” Yeah, some might say the organization could be a cult, based on the definition. “Basically, I’m from a small town and needed a faster pace in my life. Unfortunately, I’m not brave enough for the really big cities and Innie was here so that gave me a small foundation to start with.” Even as the lies came smoothly out your lips, it was leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

“And you do freelance design graphics, right?” he urged on.

“Yeah,” you nodded, a grin lighting your face up a bit. Playing around on photoshop had been a nice, unrelated-to-the-supernatural outlet that helped you unwind. You didn’t actually do any sort of business with it, but it was a fun little hobby where you kept all the end results to yourself. “It’s all online so that makes it easy to work my own hours and stay home.”

“That sounds nice.” Luhan took a long sip form his own drink before leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table.

The space between you was at its smallest that it had ever been. You could see the flecks of ember in his dark brown eyes. They were so kind and inviting, practically begging for you to come closer. Your muscles were having a tug-of-war within themselves: closer, father, closer, farther, closer.

Farther won and you leaned back away from him, crossing your arms to recreate the barrier that he was doing a very good job of cracking.

Luhan looked a little disappointed at your response, but he just let it roll off of him. “So, what were you going to ask?”

“Oh, just if you enjoyed living here,” you answered nonchalantly. It was getting tougher to pretend this wasn’t affecting you in some way.

“I like it a lot,” Luhan said happily. But that initial joy slipped a bit. “I was gone for a little while, but being back has been the best decision I ever had.”

“You left?” Since when could a wolf leave a pack and then rejoin it?

Luhan nodded, turning his eyes down to his fingers and picking at his nails. “Yeah. My brothers kind of… got in a fight, I guess you could say. One of them decided to break out on his own, thinking it was best for everyone. I didn’t want him to be alone, so I went with him. But I missed this place every day I was gone.”

“Why do you love this place so much?” It was the first sincere question to leave your mouth. He spoke with such a nostalgic undertone, it was almost like a poet or a songwriter trying to describe their favorite color without saying the name. You found yourself leaning forward again, hands securely in your lap to avoid any accidental contact.

Luhan shrugged as he twirled his straw absentmindedly. “I don’t know if I can describe it, the reason why. Ever since I came here as a teenager, it just felt like home. Like I was always meant to be here and it would help me meet the people that were meant to be in my life.” At that last comment, his eyes flickered over to you just for a second before falling back down to the now empty cup.

“So, you didn’t grow up here?”

“No, I spent most of my childhood a couple hundred miles away,” he explained. “My family traveled a lot and it was kind of pure coincidence that brought me here.”

A nomadic pack. You’d encountered more than your fair share of wolves that chose to live that way. They were easier to spot than the ones that stayed put. That guilty feeling was starting to bubble in your stomach again. Had you run into his old running mates in the past?

You’d never been on hunts like that before. You were never old enough. The only times you went with the older hunters was to track down killer wolves, the ones who’d attacked defenseless humans. Those were deemed “safer” since it was normally a group of hunters verses one or two wolves. You’d never been the one to deal the killing blow, but you certainly had shot more than your fair share of injuring arrows.

“(y/n)?” Luhan reached out to your, but had nothing to hold onto with your wringing fingers resting on your thighs. “(y/n), are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied a bit shakily. “But, uh, I think… I think I should head back home. I’ve got work that’s piling up and I really should get started on it.” You jumped up to your feet and Luhan followed suit.

“Do you want me to see you home?”

“No!” you exclaimed, waving your hands in front of you. A bit calmer, you added, “I’m fine really. But… thank you for the offer. Really. Um, I’ll see you around.”

You didn’t necessarily hightail it out of there, but you certainly walked at a fast pace, hoping that he wasn’t following you. Once you hit the first crosswalk, you glanced behind, but Luhan wasn’t anywhere in your line of sight. That let you release a deep breath.

Back at your apartment, you locked the door up tight behind you and tossed your bag down on the couch before collapsing beside it, your face in your hands.

You can’t do that again. That stupid, blonde wolf was doing something to you. He was messing up everything you knew and… you didn’t know if you were strong enough for this inner conflict.

Ever since you were a child, you were told over and over the story of the beginnings of the organizations. You knew them by heart so you could pass on the knowledge to your own children someday. It was what drove you and kept your fundamentals stable. But how true was it?

Centuries ago, when hygiene was still questionable and kings and lords ruled the lands, there were a nest of little villages in a valley. They were all friendly with each other, trading goods and lending a helping hand when hard times fell over them. But the skies wouldn’t stay blue forever.

One night, a monster came into the midst of the smallest village, killing any human it came across. Innocent blood was shed and the villagers didn’t know what to do. The following night, the monster came across the next village, except this time, it had company. Over a week of hell, the five villages were destroyed, only a few families able to survive the massacre.

After banding together, the men of the families set out to track down the monsters so they wouldn’t hurt anyone else. When they found the monsters, they were frozen with shock. They’d witnessed the dog-like monsters transform into men, laughing and joking with human lips and human lungs. With surprise on their side, the men attacked the monsters, eliminating the threat for good.

Or so they thought.

As the five families traveled to find a new place to settle, they heard stories of giant wolves attacking defenseless villages. These stories were new, recent happenings and they realized that the threat was not gone like they thought and there were more out in the world. So they decided that since they knew the secret of the monsters, they should be the ones to stop them.

Over the years, they trained their children, occasionally bringing in others to help their cause. Once they deemed themselves big enough, they split to stretch across the globe to rid every country from this scourge. To this day, the five families, now factions of the singular organization, still fight to erase the supernatural from the world, to protect their fellow man.

But did every wolf deserve it?

Tradition told you that their human forms were just disguises, that they didn’t know what it was like to feel real emotions and that all they did was hide until they were ready for their next attack, their next killing spree. But in your research, the reports of wolf attacks were few and far between in this area. And it’d been decades since the last one was recorded. Then there was Luhan.

He didn’t seem like a killer. None of the boys did. And Innie seemed so happy with Baekhyun, hormones telling her to be like that or not. What was going on in your world?

Grabbing the bag beside you, you threw it across the room, not caring in the slightest if you broke the camera inside as you released a wordless yell.

You pulled back your sleeve to expose the tattoo that you’d proudly let yourself be branded with. It was an honor to be inked with the arrowhead triquetra. It symbolized that you’d passed every test and had dedicated yourself to the cause. But was it all a lie?

No, you didn’t believe it was a lie. There were plenty of legitimate reasons for the organization to exist. Your mother’s scars were proof enough for that. But maybe… maybe it’d gone too far. Maybe there needed to be a distinction between the ones that attacked humans and the ones that just wanted to live their lives in peace.

You scoffed to yourself. Look at you, thinking radical ideas and off of what? One conversation and a few interactions with a single wolf pack? They could still be dangerous, they could still be a threat to humans. They could lose control and hurt someone. Baekhyun could hurt Innie whether it was intentional or not.

A battle was beginning to brew inside of you and you had no clue which side was going to win.

Just focus on the book, (y/n). Once you get that, you can leave and go back to the organization. Go back to your family. They’ll get your head back on straight.

God, you hoped that was true.