#basically I can’t do much about the yelling sounding weird

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

I have been exporting the audio wrong this whole time I- anyway. All posts from here on will have the correct setting :)

*edit. The post right before this does have the correct settings and the new equalizer stuff. If it sounds slightly better, that’s why.

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

꧁⋆°𝓢𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓒𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼°⋆꧂

Squid game Season 2 men saving you when you almost die in the game

Characters: player 001, 230, 124

Warnings: canon violence, near death experience, toxic relationships, drug use, mention of suicide, romantic tension, f! Reader

A/N: this is no diss to anyone bc I respect the grind, I truly do, but everything I see of squid game is nsfw. I have to HUNT for sfw shit. I just gave up and just read everything anyways. So I’m trying to balance the scales a bit for rn. Again no diss bc yall nsfw writers COOK.

________

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 001

(Weird ppl attacking you in game)

- ok so for this one I’ll say that you are just a average player in the games he happened upon. You two met because you were on the ‘X’ team, and more specifically in gi- Huns group.

- he normally is pretty resistant to the ‘worthless sob stories of the poor’ as he puts it. But for some odd reason, yours got to him

- thrown out of home, forced to survive and fend for yourself out in the streets, hopping from job to job because you can’t pay rent on time 8/10 and you get evicted. Pulling loan after loan to keep yourself afloat, and even that is starting to fail you. You are at the very end of the road and if you can’t manage to leave here without some money you are 100% fucked. You genuinely think the only way out of the hole you’ve dug is either a miracle in here or checking out of life manually.

- in-ho LOVES sad wet cat type people, he can’t help it. And even though he’s heard basically the same stories from hundreds of people yet somehow you stuck with him

- life was unfair to you, you were cast out. If that didn’t happen, you wouldn’t have to be living “like garbage”. Almost everyone else put themselves in their financial hole, you started in one. Not fair, see? He’s doing so much mental gymnastics and logistical jumping to validate himself. You’re different, you don’t count.

- you really weren’t a extremely strong individual , you didn’t draw attention to yourself like many of the others, you didn’t argue much or ask many questions. You came with a goal. And he respected that.

- after game two though, the marathon, you and many others decided it was time to call it quits. So you voted ‘X’ with gi-hun and everyone else. And surprisingly in-ho, or young-il as he named himself, also picked ‘X’

- you both didn’t really talk much besides maybe a few sentences to each other about how your group was meant to survive. But after the second vote, having a X on your shirt also meant having a target on your back. And being the “minding my own business” type it doubled that factor.

- a group of three people, two guys and one girl approached you. Sorrounding you and pestering you on your vote. It turned to raised voices and getting in your face, to shoving from all three people as you just stood there and took it, unwilling to change votes. Though you might not fight like some others that doesn’t mean you aren’t brave.

- though as soon as young-il (for simplicity) saw those men put hands on you he was already trudging his way cross room, leaving gi-hun mid conversation to aid you.

- you were backed against the bed frame of the stacked sleeping quarters, these three lunatics yelling and shoving you, telling you that you have to vote ‘O’ “or else”. You assumed it implied you leaving this place in a box.

- that’s when young-il made it to you. “That’s quite enough” he says, eyes cold as ice and facial expression locked in stone. His posture was straight and his head was held high. Very intimidating, it’s almost like he had a military commander type vide (hahaha- odd right??)

- the girl was quick to scamper off, giving you a glare as she informs the boys she’ll be waiting by their group. The men however puff their chests out and square up a bit, and you get second hand embarrassment because young-il doesn’t even flinch or break the deadly eye contact. “Are you sure.” Is all he said. It didn’t sound like an actual question, more of a “are you sure you wanna get your ass beat in front of all these people” threat.

- they got the memo from his venomous words and slowly creeped off back to wherever they came from, looking like puppies with their tails tucked as they walked away.

- “thank you so much” you say, bowing slightly in gratitude for his kindness. He gives you a nice chuckle before lifting your shoulders back up.

- “oh no no, it’s nothing. Those boys should know better, I bet their mothers would chew their ears off if they saw their lack of manners” he jokes, earning a giggle from you.

- it makes him feel kinda fuzzy, but he compartmentalizes that feeling for when he’s alone and can process it. In the mean time he just places his hand on your lower back, guiding you back to the group where you will be safe (and in arms reach)

- this just opened a Pandora’s box of possessiveness and lies, and he doesn’t even know how it will end

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 230

(Mingle)

- for this let’s just say that you met up with thanos for the second game, the marathon one, and yall clicked a bit, leading him to tell you that “you should stay with me and my crew, for safety”

- and so you do. What could be the harm? He’s clearly deranged and a loose cannon, wouldn’t it be better to just go along before he kills you?

- is what you originally thought. Turns out after that conversation and you joined, he really isn’t that bad to be around. When he’s high he always makes you laugh, constantly cracking jokes and making fun of people at their expense to make you smack his shoulder a bit, saying “be nice!”

- you noticed he thrives on attention, and you give it to him freely. It’s hard not to when he’s got bright purple hair, hand tattoos WITH rainbow painted nails, and he’s rapping and dancing like he was in the comfort of his own home. Plus nam gyu, the guy who lowkey bullied the shit out of you the first few days was now told to “chill out man”

- now, you were all standing on a spinning circular floor, a cute little cheery jingle being played from over the speakers. Thanos and nam gyu danced together to the music, high in ways you didn’t even know you could get. It was pretty silly though, acting like kids.

- then the music dropped, and a number was said. You had to run with that number of people into a room to live. Those left behind will die

- the first few rounds were easy, the numbers were quite high and you held onto thanos’ jacket to stay with the group. The sounds of people begging to be let in followed by being punctured with bullets rang in your mind and the number for people in groups got lower and lower, until the number was two.

- you, thanos, nam gyu and min-su all stared at each other for a moment, frozen on who to pick before thanos started throwing his head from side to side before turning and gripping your arm and nam gyus, running full speed and pulling you along, forcing you to leave min-su. Though you felt horrible once you saw his shocked little face, you just kept going. Choosing to save your life instead of feeling bad and dying there.

- thanos shoved nam gyu towards the door next to the one you were about to be tossed in, luckily he saw someone was waiting by themselves in the room, so he was safe with two. Nam gyu gave him a small nod to let him know he was safe and set to survive.

- thanos rushed you in, slamming the door behind him and peering out. This was the last round, you made it. The door beeped behind you and locked, ensuring your victory of the game.

- adrenaline was still pumping through your veins as you gazed up at him from your spot cowering against the wall as gun shots rang. You didn’t even hear the people screaming or the poor souls who were locked from the room right behind you and thanos, damming you to hell for getting to the room first as they die. “Holy shit” you say as you look at him as he smiled back. “We did it.”

- “yup” he says confidently “now let’s see how much money we earned” thanos says as he pulled open the door for the final time. Before he can step out you grab his sleeve “hey- uh thank you” you mumbled

- he could have just left you like min-su and went with nam gyu, but he chose to save you.

- “what? Nah it’s nothing. Don’t worry” he says, patting you on the head and steering you out of the room

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 124

(Lights out fight)

- there was a obvious tension in the air, one that nearly suffocated you as you sat with nam gyu on a bed… thanos’ bed.

- the vote ended in a tie, meaning the vote was to be redone the following day. After that was announced, your friends thanos and nam gyu went to the bathroom to ‘help even out the votes’. Specifically to talk to that poor min-su they’ve been harassing non stop. Only just nam gyu came back out. Eyes blown wide and covered head to toe in thick splashes of blood. Your heart nearly died when you saw him stumbling dazed out of the bathroom. You knew SOMETHING had happened when no thanos returned safely to you.

- after that, he tried convincing you they didn’t start the fight, which you saw right through. Eventually he dropped that act and told you straight up what went down. How your friend was murdered. Nam gyu tried covering his pain up by insulting thanos and taking two of his pills from the cross he stole from him. Calling him an asshole and an idiot. Again, you saw right through.

- you brought your hand up to his face to wife some blood off with your sleeve. And he leaned right into it, sighing very very deeply as he crushed the drugs between his teeth. He held your hand to his face, which you thought was just him being cute until he started talking about how there needed to be a total blood bath that night. To ensure team ‘O’ wins and you both could keep going. You tried to pull away but his grip kept you like in your spot next to him.

- “no nam gyu, we can’t just kill these people. They are just like us they just need money-“

- “yes! That’s the fucking point. We need that danm money, can’t you see? We won’t fucking win with all those stupid fucking cockroaches leeching our money” he hisses, harsh words contrasting with his hands tracing patterns gently on yours. “We won’t win this vote with them alive, we won’t get more money with them all alive. This is the only way”

- he just kept going and going until you agreed, saying you’d at least let him go out and kill and you’d be his little look out. Only nothing can go smoothly for anyone ever here.

- while there’s lights flashing and people screaming, blood and gore being sprayed from the alive and leaking from the dead, you are trying to make out what is going on around you. You can (faintly) see nam gyu out in the room, grabbing people and ripping them to shreds with his fork, the very fork that killed thanos to be exact.

- while you were looking around for nam gyu, someone had come up behind you, grabbing you by the neck and trying to choke you out. You screamed out nam gyus name as loud as you could as the attackers grip tightened and tightened to the point where you thought your neck was bound to snap. Your vision going out slowly as all you can recognize becomes the sound of the chaos. Until suddenly you were freed, and your assaulter was ripped off you and pinned to the ground by nam gyu.

- he started repeatingly stabbing the person, blood flying onto you and him as he slit the person open. When he stopped you basically flung yourself at him, crying “thank you! Thank you!”. He just saved your life, though You could barely recognize him, he was lost completely in drug fueled blood lust and rage.

- maybe not completely you figured, as he rushed to you and scooped you up. He returned you to a bunk, telling you to hide there and wait for him. Promising you he’ll come back, that he will keep you safe. And he did, as the lights came on and the gun shots rung out, he was alive and on his way back to you

______

Bet yall can’t guess who my favorite is >:3

[nativegirltapes]

motel — rafe cameron

summary: reader and rafe being on one of their ‘breaks’ so reader comes and visits rafe at a motel he’s been staying at after being kicked out. but she doesn’t get the comfort from rafe she thought she would.

pairing: toxic!rafe x reader

notes/warnings: purely angst! idk what got in to me while writing this but i think i got too into it …. reader is like super dependent on rafe it’s just sad atp!!!

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

it was unfortunate but no one was able to comfort you the way your boyfriend did, even after hurting your feelings.

tears fell down your face as you knocked on the door numbered '56', the door of the motel you drove to hundreds of miles away, just to see him.

when the door swung open there he was; greasy hair sticking to his forehead, shirtless, with his grey sweats hanging dangerously low. you ran into him arms like you hadn't seen him years, although that's how it felt.

rafe's hand caressed the back of your head while you embraced your arms around him. your hair was messy but still soft, it was always so soft, it was one of his favorite things about you. you were literally a sobbing disaster in front of him but you're hair was still soft and smelled of strawberries and grapefruit. rafe thought out loud it might sound silly, but it was almost like it was some weird sort of symbolism, that despite everything that rafe had put out through, you were still perfect. you were still his soft, perfect angel.

"i hate you," you choked out. you 'hated' him, but there you were hugging him, all at his disposal.

"i know." rafe replied, resting his head on yours. rafe felt bad, which is exactly why he broke up with you in the first place. although, a normal functioning person wouldn't call what you two had a 'breakup'; coming to visit him at a motel because he was kicked out of his own house didn't exactly scream 'broken up' to anyone.

rafe knew you didn't hate him, maybe it was just that you loved him so much that you lost yourself in the journey.

when you were with him, it seemed like all you had was him, like you didn't know how to live or function without him. and rafe hated that, because that's exactly how he felt for you. there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for you, no boundary he wouldn't cross for you; except for being the one responsible for ruining you.

"you shouldn't be here." rafe groaned, you pulled away from the hug, every ounce of his warmness leaving your body.

"why?" you wiped your tears with rafe's hoodie that you were wearing, it basically swallowed you whole with how big it was.

"it’s not good for you.” rafe’s eyes looked down at you, you didn’t realize how tired and sad he looked too.

“you’re good for me, rafe.” you placed a hand on his chest, but he stepped away.

“i’m not y/n.”

“you can’t tell me what’s good for me rafe.” you followed him as he stepped back. your eyes felt so puffy, like they’d just swell shut if you cried anymore.

“i’m not good for you,” rafe sighed. “i mean do you see your fuckin’ self?” rafe threw his hand towards you. “you’re here cryin’ in a motel you drove hundreds of miles away to get to just because i’m tryin’ to fucking help you.”

“if you want to help me, just love me.” you didn’t have it in you to yell back. your soft but croaky voice played like a record in rafe’s head; reminding him that you’re just his soft, perfect angel. no, he definitely didn’t deserve you, but he didn’t have in it him to just never talk to you again, which just lead you both here; in this moment right now, wondering what went wrong between the two of you. things used to be so good. what happened?

“i’m tryin’ to love you.” rafe rubbed his forehead, he didn’t want to say it, but he knew he had to. “you won’t let me.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, you weren’t letting him? you were standing in front of him, quite literally begging him to love you; and you weren’t ‘letting him’?

you weren’t saying anything so rafe took it as an opportunity, “we just,” he ran his fingers through his hair, kind of pacing around the room now. “we just need to be apart for a while. kay?”

exhausted from crying all the way here and all the crying you just did, all you could do was agree. “okay.” you sighed, a tear falling down your cheek.

this couldn’t be the end of you and rafe, he loved you. right?

[moosesarecute]

Part 6: The Shadows Sing

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7

Azriel didn’t know why he felt so shocked.

He had seen her use her shadows, but he didn’t believe himself. Shadowsingers were so rare! It didn’t make sense that they were two alive at the same time.

His head was spinning.

He was almost 500 years older than her, so maybe it wasn’t that weird that they were two?

She had rushed out the cabin once more. However, she let her shadows stay behind.

“Can you ask them to go away from my mouth?” He asked his shadows.

“They’re scared,” they answered.

“Tell them we won’t hurt them or their mistress,” he continued.

Azriel wouldn’t dream of hurting you. He couldn’t even think about you being hurt without going a little feral.

“They say that when Pretty Eyes’ feelings are too strong she has control over them, so they can’t let go right now. They know you won’t hurt them.”

Azriel realized something important.

“She can’t usually control them?” He asked.

“No, master,” his shadows answered. “Only hide, talk to and shadow walk.”

So she’s a secret shadowsinger and she can’t control her shadows. Doesn’t sound like an easy life.

He felt himself worry about her.

She didn’t eat, she lives alone in dangerous forests and she couldn’t control the shadows that basically was connected to her body.

“They want us to help her,” his shadows told him.

“With what?”

“Surviving.”

He had waited for her to come back for over two hours before he left. He soon realized she was doing her best to spend as much time as possible away from her cabin.

He left the rest of the food out for her to eat when she got back.

She hadn’t eaten a lot for breakfast. Azriel expected it to not be because she didn’t like it, but because she wasn’t used to having that big portions.

He hated thinking about that.

He felt himself distant the entire day. Cassian easily beat him in combat training and he didn’t manage to follow any conversations during the evening’s family dinner.

In the end, he decided to step out on the balcony to get a break. His head was spinning with thoughts.

Y/N was so young! But she still must have lived through many horrors. She must have gotten her shadows somehow. Also the naga that bit of her foot must have been traumatic. And the fact that she didn’t dear to tell anyone about her being a shadowsinger. Someone must have terrified her.

He hoped that someone wasn’t him.

He heard the door to the balcony open. The steps told him it was Nesta.

“Can I sit?” She asked him.

He just nodded and moved over to make place on the bench he sat on. She sat down.

“Cassian’s worried about you,” she stated. “I’m too. You’ve been distant lately. More than usual I mean.”

Azriel guessed he had been spending a lot of his free time away. Either in the library trying to learn about The Middle or in The Middle trying to learn about you.

“Soooo,” she continued. “Who’s the girl?”

Azriel turned to look at Nesta with an eyebrow raised.

“You’ve been way too smiling lately,” she explained. “I think everybody knows there’s someone. No one has just dared to ask.”

Azriel suddenly realized how much he needed to talk to someone about you. He felt lost. He wanted to help you, he had promised your shadows that he would, but he had no idea how.

“There’s this female,” he started. But he suddenly didn’t know how to continue.

“You’re dating?” Nesta asked.

Azriel thought for a few moments. But he was so overwhelmed by all he was feeling for you, he couldn’t communicate.

“She hadn’t even tasted chocolate for cauldrons sake!” He almost yelled out. “She’s young, she hunts for a living, she has basically no food and she hadn’t even tasted chocolate.”

Nesta only looked at him with wide eyes. It wasn’t usual for him to have such outbursts.

“I saw her on the battlefield against Hybern and have been dreaming about her ever since. And then we met again and I have done my best to get to know her, but she’s terrified. But I just can’t leave her alone.

“I’ve also recently found out something else about her. Something that changes a lot. But she won’t ever let me help her.”

It was Nesta’s turn to think.

“If she’s been living in survival mode for this long, it might be hard for her to realize that something is wrong,” Nesta tried to explain. “If she hasn’t had anyone to trust, it won’t be easy for her to trust you. If she hasn’t gotten help from anyone before, she maybe doesn’t realize you want to help.”

It did make sense.

Y/N acted skittish and she definitely had trust issues. Azriel wanted to be the person that you could trust. He needed to make sure you were save and happy in your life, but he knew you were under too much stress to life a good life.

“You have to make her realize you can help her, without you needed anything back from her,” Nesta said. “You have to learn her to ask for help.”

“What do you know about the hunting group in The Middle?” Azriel asked Rhys.

It had been a week and he still hadn’t dared to go back to you.

He had spent his days being busy with missions and told himself that he’d been too busy to visit you. Even though he knew that he did have time, but was too nervous to go.

The fact that you’re a shadowsinger too made him nervous.

He didn’t like to know that she would understand the horrors he’d been through. She’d been through similar things.

He also hated that she’d been traumatized enough for her to get her shadows.

He really wanted to hold her.

“I don’t know much,” Rhys answered. “They were forced to hunt for Amarantha, so that’s when I heard about them first.”

Azriel felt his chest lit up with anger as he realized you’d gone through terrors Under The Mountain.

For 50 years you’d hide your true powers from the most powerful person at the time. It’s not weird you lived in survival mode.

“They had to give weekly reports and they always sent the same female. The poor girl was only 18 when it all started. She had a hard time to say at least.”

Azriel felt his heart stop. Y/N was turning 70 years soon. She would have been 18 at the time Amarantha took over.

He could throw up.

Rhys had known about her?

“To be honest, I don’t even know if she’s alive,” Rhys continued.

Rhys had known about her and didn’t try to save her? He felt himself start getting mad at Rhys. This young female had gone through way too much.

“Did she have a prosthetic leg?” Azriel asked before he could think.

He needed to know.

“Yeah,” Rhys said nodding. “She had lost both her wings and her leg. Surprised she’s lived this long.”

Her wings?

Her wings!

She wasn’t only a shadowsinger, she was illyran. An illyran that lost her wings.

“How did you know that?” Rhys asked him.

He felt himself getting angrier and angrier. He tried to hold back, but he soon felt himself wanting to yell at Rhys.

Before he could start, his shadows came storming through the door.

“Pretty eyes, help, friends, help,” they were screaming at him.

Before Rhys could utter another word, Azriel had shadow walked away.

He landed in the middle of your cabin. But you weren’t there.

“Where is she?” He asked his shadows.

He soon felt something pull his wrist. He looked down and realized it wasn’t his shadow. It was a lot lighter than his, a lot smaller as well, but its determination and pull was as strong as his own.

“Can you show me?” He asked it.

He didn’t wait for an answer as he covered himself in his shadows and prepared to shadow walk away.

He landed besides a lake and soon saw you.

You sat on a stone just a few meters from the lake. You were soaked and shivering.

But what worried Azriel, was the fact that your shadows were out.

They immediately surrounded him, pulling him towards you. Azriel followed their pull. He moved slowly, trying not to startle you.

He crunched down next to you, but you didn’t acknowledge him. Your shadows moved back to you. They swirled close to you, obliviously trying to warm you.

“Hi, Y/N,” he whispered. You still only stared straight ahead. “Can you hear me?”

When your only reaction was to start shaking even more, Azriel sprung into action.

“I’m going to shadow walk us to your cabin, okay?” He asked, but he knew you wouldn’t answer. “I’m going to pick you up now.”

He moved towards you and carefully lifted you up into his arms. He made sure to move slowly, so that you could move away or signal for him to stop if you needed it. You were so light and little in his arms. He wanted to hold you forever.

To his surprise, you only snuggled deeply into his chest. The warmth that spread through Azriel’s chest lasted for multiple days.

As he landed in your cabin and carefully sat you down on your chair.

“Can you ask them to change her clothes?” He asked his shadows.

He watched his shadows intertwine with yours as they spoke. It was a weirdly wholesome to watch his companions, they looked extremely happy and relaxed.

“We’ll have to leave, but they’ll change her,” his shadows informed him.

He felt himself grow stubborn. He wouldn’t leave her, he couldn’t leave her. Not in this state. She was freezing and shaking, he needed to help her. He felt such a deep need to protect her. He wouldn’t leave her. They’d have to throw him out.

“We just have to wait outside,” his shadows informed him. “We can come back in later.”

Azriel realized just how much you meant to him.

Azriel had spent the longest three minutes of his life waiting in his shadows outside your cabin. When your shadows came to get him, he basically ran back inside.

They had helped you into your bed and had tucked you into a blanket full of holes. You had stopped shivering and you had gotten some color on your cheeks.

However, your eyes were closed and your chest raised and sank in a comfortable speed. You were asleep at home and Azriel felt himself calm down.

@i-have-a-thing-for-the-dark @saltedcoffeescotch @rcarbo1

[redstarwriting]

the clash | iv. london calling

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, smoking weed, alcohol, mentions of a gwen canon event, mentions of death, lil angst

a/n: nother long one! i can’t wait to make it crazy angsty bc when i tell u i have THOUGHTS 👀 thank you to everyone who’s reading, i’m trying to update it every day, so hopefully i can stick with that schedule! enjoy this chapter, friends :)

now reading: iv. london calling

previous chapter: iii. black planet

next chapter: v. ever fallen in love

───────────────────────────────────

He fixes his watch to open a portal to his world. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr basically run to get to it. He motions for you to go ahead, and you walk through. Immediately when you step into his room, you’re hit with the smell of weed and incense. You’d be lying if you said you hated it. You glance around. You see drums, another electric and acoustic guitar, empty spray paint cans, spray paint on the walls, stacks of newspapers (all defaced in some way)… it feels very Hobie to say the least. “Now this. This is a livin’ area,” he says, appearing behind you. You shake your head. “So loud, both figuratively and literally. How do you ever get anything done?”

“By being louder than everyone else, obviously,” he responds, and you roll your eyes. “What a way to live,” you remark. “Better than that quiet, dark, and gloomy, way,” he retorts, and you shrug. “If you say so.”

“Hey, Hobie, do you still have the roof all decorated?” Gwen asks and he nods. “Course I do. I own the place, head on up,” he jerks his head upwards, and Gwen turns to Miles and Pavitr with a smirk. “Race ya!”

“Hey no fair! You have been here so many times!” Pavitr yells as Gwen takes off. “Come on, Miles!” you hear her yell. Miles smiles gently and shakes his head before going after the two of them. “He’s so obsessed with her it’s making me sick,” you mumble, and Hobie snorts. “What? Miles and Gwen’s relationship too much for you? You hate love?”

“Love has never done anything but cause me pain. And not the good kind,” you glance at him with a frown, and he raises his eyebrow. Suddenly his eyes get wide. “Oh shit… you had a Gwen canon event.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you respond, and he frowns. “You know, actually talkin’ about that kinda shit is a good way to not sit on it and let it build. You could face some serious problems if you keep doin’ that.”

“Who said I gave a fuck what you think? I didn’t ask for the unneeded advice, alright?” you say, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Oh, right. Forgot I was dealing with a bloody doughnut,” he mumbles and point to the window. “Care to go to the roof and get out of my sight?”

“Sound like the best thing you’ve said since I got here,” you say, leaping out of his window and climbing up the side of the building. While clinging to the wall, you glance out at Hobie’s world. His city looks almost exactly like Night of Yore City, except for the fact that there are a shit ton of fires burning, over half of the buildings look abandoned, the sky is a reddish-orangish hue, and it is so much louder. The name is also vastly different, as his version of NYC is New London. Universal differences get weird and confusing. Nonetheless, you’re intrigued, you turn around, putting your back against the wall and supporting yourself with your hands and feet. The graffitied buildings are a nice touch, you must admit. You snort to yourself when you see a mural of Hobie. If only they knew the asshole behind the mask.

“Now why the hell aren’t you up there with everyone else?” you hear his voice pull you out of your thoughts as he crawls up next to you. You shrug. “I’m a sucker for views, I guess.”

“Well, believe it or not, view is a lot better from the top of the buildin’,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Can I please just be secluded and observe in peace?”

“Absolutely fuckin’ not. Come on,” he says, starting to walk up the wall. You sigh and lazily roll backwards and up the wall to come to standing and follow him up. When you get to the top of the roof, you see a boombox (blaring punk music, of course) and blankets surrounding a barrel with a fire going in it. Multiple coolers decorate the roof which all look stockpiled full of different beers. “Hey, Hobie, you know that they’re all kids, right?”

“New universe, new rules, love. Drinking age is 16 and up ‘round here, not that I’d give a fuck if it wasn’t anyway. So, sit down, shut up, and drink a damn beer. Maybe you’ll loosen up,” he says, tossing you a random bottle. You roll your eyes and sit down but put the beer to the side.

“Hey, Hobie, do you have any of that–” Miles gets cut off by Hobie tossing him another bottle. ���Nice. Thanks, dude,” he says excitedly, cracking the top and taking a drink. Gwen gets her beer of choice, and Pavitr does the same. Hobie, you notice, doesn’t drink anything. “So, what were you guys talking about?” Gwen asks, pointing between the two of you with her bottle. “What?” you ask, and she shrugs. “You guys were alone in Hobie’s for a while and no one died, soooo did you guys finally talk about something you could agree on?”

“We can’t agree on nothin’, Gwen. They were just bein’ their usual self and annoyin’ the shit out of me at any chance they could get,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “Good to know it worked, mate”

“Stop imitatin’ me, poser.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“I’ll make you.”

“Try me, Hobart.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that. What were you guys talking about?” Miles asks, and you and Hobie look at each other. “Just asked where the bathroom was,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah. That’s it.”

You weren’t necessarily ready to reveal you faced the Gwen canon event. Especially not to another Gwen. At least Hobie isn’t enough of a dick to bring it up in front of them. “Oh, yeah, you did change into your everyday clothes. Don’t know how I didn’t notice that,” Gwen states, taking another swig of her beer. You had changed in your apartment after cleaning your wound, but you don’t say anything. Hobie nods at you, and you nod back.

“Why aren’t you drinking anything (Y/n)? Here, try this it’s so good,” Pavitr pushes his bottle toward you, and you shake your head. “I don’t want to drink, but thanks Pavitr,” you say, and he frowns. “Awww.” You smile slightly at how disappointed he sounds. “Well, I want to remember everything you all tell me without it being fuzzy because I was hoping you could let me know a little bit more about all the spider people in Spider Society. I’m still new, you four, Peter B. Parker, and Miguel are the only ones I’ve really met.”

With that, Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr start telling you everything they know. You learn about Jessica Drew, Spider-Man Noir, Peni Parker, and so many more. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr talk for hours, and since they’re kids, they do not know when to stop drinking. Eventually, the three of them are passed out. Miles is cradling Gwen’s side with his head on her chest as she wraps one of her arms around him, and Pavitr is laying straight on his back, lightly snoring. You giggle softly at the sight. Suddenly the punk music you’ve been listening to for the past however many hours gets softer. You glance over to where it is and see Hobie bent over and turning it down. “Don’t wanna wake ‘em,” he mumbles, walking over to you. The volume of the city has decreased quite a bit, and with the low hum of music coming from the boombox now, his world is actually kind of enjoyable. Though you’d never tell him that. He motions to the skyline, and you turn and look. He was right, as much as you hate to admit it. The view is a lot better from up here.

“Why didn’t you drink anythin’?” he asks, and you shrug. “Didn’t feel like it. Why didn’t you drink anything?” He shrugs and pulls out a rolled cigarette from his vest pocket. “Got somethin’ better.”

“And you didn’t offer any to them?”

“Hey, they can drink here, they don’t need to mess with this shit. ‘Sides I knew they’d be pissed. Gonna have a god-awful hangover tomorrow,” he says, pulling out a lighter. You shake your head. “They can’t mess with your shit, but I can?”

“The two of us are the same age. We’re ‘adults’ or whatever the fuck that means. Are you too stuck up to be ‘round some grass or somethin’?”

“No, Hobie, I don’t give a fuck if you smoke weed. Building manager might, though.”

“Love, I am the building manager. This place is abandoned, so it belongs to me. And you’re not tellin’ me I’m supposed to smoke this myself?” he asks with a sly smirk on his face. You raise your eyebrow at him. “Actually I am.” He groans, putting the joint to his lips and lighting the end of it.

“Do you know how to have any fun?”

“Do you know how to have any–” Before you can finish, he puts his finger over your mouth, and raises the joint to his lips again. He takes a deep breath in, blowing out the excess smoke and glancing at you. “No.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Don’t care. The answer is no.”

“Have you ever actually tried listening to anything anyone says?” “Nah. I don’t listen to no one. I’m me, and if people don’t like that, good,” he says, taking another drag. He glances over at you and holds the joint out. “Y’sure you don’t want some?”

“You actually want to share with me?”

“I want you to not be as much as a ragin’ fuckwit, so yes,” he blows smoke in your face, and you glare at him. “If I take one hit, will you shut the fuck up about it?”

“Probably not, but it would sure make me happier.” You roll your eyes, and take the joint from him, taking a drag. He watches you. He’d never admit it, but he wishes you weren’t such an asshole. The way you look doing that in the moonlight? Stunning. You pass the joint back to him, some of the smoke coming out of your nose. “Stop staring at me.”

“Just makin’ sure you did it right and didn’t waste my shit,” he says, taking another drag. “I know how to hit a joint, Hobie.”

“Really? Never would have guessed you’d do anything remotely excitin’.”

“Oh, please. You barely know me,” you say, angrier than you probably should be. “Then tell me about yourself, love.”

“Hard pass,” you say, and he groans. “I get the desire to stay anonymous and mysterious, obviously, but come on. Chances are we’re gonna be seein’ each other more than either of us wants to, so just open up a bit,” he says, and you frown. “There’s nothing you need to know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me something about you.”

“I killed Norman Osborn with my guitar after defeatin’ him and all of his V.E.N.O.M. forces and successfully led a rebellion against fascism,” he says smugly, “Until those other fuckin’ Nazis showed up, but one day I promise you this world? Will be capitalist and fascist free.”

“No, it won’t. Am I supposed to be impressed?” you ask with a deadpan face. He scoffs. “Damn, you’re a wanker. I’d like to see you try and defeat the V.E.N.O.M. forces. From what I seen your world’s villains are rubbish,” he says and to his surprise, and yours, you laugh. A hint of a smile plays on his features, but you shake your head. “Green Goblin is, you’re right, but... there are others who are much worse. And what the fuck is a venom force? You’re saying that like I should just know what it is.”

“It was a symbiote that– wait, you sayin’ you don’t know what venom is? That’s something every spider-person deals with at some point,” he says, and you shrug. “Guess I haven’t dealt with it yet.”

“Yeah, well, when you do, call me cause you’ll need my help,” he says and you roll your eyes. “I’d rather die than get help from you.”

“I helped you today, love.”

“I could have done that myself,” you retort, and he shakes his head, taking another drag. “I guess I should thank you though.”

“Hmm?”

“For not telling them what we were really talking about,” you say, and he hums. “What they won’t know won’t kill ‘em. But just so you know I was being so serious. Not talkin’ about that shit is more harmful than good,” he says, and you frown. “I’m not much of a talker.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up,” you groan, and he laughs. He loves pissing you off, might be his favorite thing to do now. But the conversation might actually need to get serious. He may hate you, but he’s Spider-Punk for the people, and you’re apart of that people. He’s there to help, so he may as well try with you.

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why not? Why won’t you talk about it?” he asks, and you huff. “Because it was my fault, and I don’t want to think about it.”

“Nah, I bet it wasn’t your fault,” he mumbles, taking another drag. You glare at him. “Oh, right, I forgot you were there when their neck snapped after I tried to save them,” you spit, and he glances at you. You can feel that hit starting to affect you, that’s the only reason you said anything about… the incident. Of course, Hobie has good shit, why wouldn’t he. “What were you trying to save them from?” he asks, his voice oddly calm. “The Prowler,” you reply, “He’s the worst of the worst in my universe.” He hums and nods. “Well then, reckon it’s the Prowler’s fault then, innit?”

“What? But I’m the one who couldn’t get to them in time after he–”

“He did it, (Y/n). You did your best, but it ain’t your fault what happened there. That’s what they want you to think. Try and get that through your thick skull, would you?” he says, and you scoff, “They?”

He nods, and you go quiet. He glances over at you as you just sit and stare out at the city. “Stop doin’ ‘at.”

“Doing what?”

“Blamin’ yourself,” he says, taking another long drag. You sigh. “I can’t help it,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “You can. Just takes time,” he responds. You scoff, “You’d think three years would be enough time.” You look out at his city. It’s so different from yours, but you can still see the beauty in it. And you can see the stars. None of the constellations of your world are here, but the sky is still beautiful. “If you need a place to crash, my couch is very comfortable and has your name written all over it,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “I should probably just go back to my universe–”

“No way. No dimension hopping under the influence,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “I had one hit,” you say, and he shrugs. “And one hit is enough for you to think you’re goin’ home only to end up in Peter Porker’s shower. You’re stayin’ here tonight.” You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m insufferable for watchin’ out for your well-bein’? Okay, sure.”

“I don’t need you to watch out for me. I don’t need anyone,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Too good for everyone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It was implied.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Like you wouldn’t say the same thing,” you say, and he shrugs. “You’re right. I would say I don’t need anyone, because I don’t. Especially not a miserable thing like you,” he says, and you frown. “Good.”

“Great.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

The two of you just glare at each other for a bit before he flicks the butt of his joint off the building. “Goin’ to bed. See you tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Shut up and follow me back to my place,” he says, getting up and walking down the building. You follow, yawning as you realize just how tired you are. When you get back inside Hobie’s place, he points at the couch. “Lay there, and don’t move until mornin’, got it?”

“I’ll do what I want.”

“Amazin’. Just don’t wake me up, and I won’t give a fuck,” he says, walking into his bedroom and kicking his door shut. You roll your eyes and lay down on his couch. It’s actually surprisingly comfortable, and you find yourself actually dozing off faster than you anticipated. Hobie walks out of his room to get a drink of water and ready to fight you verbally again, only to see you passed out on his couch with literally no blanket or pillow.

He sighs, grabbing a throw blanket off his bed and gently placing it on top of you. In the morning, you wake up before everyone else. You notice the blanket, and know only one person could have done that, but you don’t feel like sticking around to say anything. You just go home. But before you do, you leave a little note saying, ‘didn’t need your sympathy, thanks but no thanks,’ and draw a little middle finger.

He’ll get the hint you appreciated it.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

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*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

if you asked to be on the taglist and i forgot, i’m sorry :( feel free to leave a comment on this or message me separately and i’ll get you right onto it!

[felassan]

Snippets 🐺💜

Users report that pre-orders they made to TFAW of the DA:TV artbook The Art of Dragon Age: The Veilguard have been cancelled (since its listings were taken down like Dark Horse's were)

Blair: "The Shadow Dragons have some great black leather combos, less feathers though." [source]. shrl: "The Mourn Watch have leather and skulls." [source]

John: "it's been a pleasure and an honor working on this with you Brian" [source]. Brian: "The feeling is mutual." [source]. Trick: "It's been amazing watching it all come together, and I am so grateful for everything you've done to make that happen." [source]

John: "the day this game ships is the day i will finally retire the sleeved blanket i bought back in 2019" [source]

John: "the wildest thing about being creative director is that about once every two weeks someone says 'hey this bizarre thing here is part of your job can you do it'. and it is a thing that you KNEW someone did but you never thought about which someone. congratulations, you are that someone" [source]

User: "The Evanuris are banished forever, he says. 👀". Trick: "Forever-ish" [source]

John: "me: it’s weird how a lot of fans think I hate Solas, it’s absolutely wild. also me: I should photoshop Solas into the ‘we demand to be taken seriously’ picture" [source]

Carly: "i can see the light at the end of the tunnel, everyone,,,, s o o n 🥴" [source]. / "I honestly can’t wait til we share more !" [source]. / User: "do you ever look at people’s reactions and theories on here like 🙂‍↔️ you people have no idea what’s coming". Carly: "Oh absolutely lmaooo" [source]

Carly: "I deleted it but I posted in our slack like “pls just tell them smtg, the clowns make me sad ):” lolol" [source]. (note: fans have been joking around and calling themselves clowns hhh, in the age-old tradition of DA clowning) "this is me empathizing and feeling bad we aren’t giving as much info (altho epler be goin off), rereading it sounds like I’m going *points* look at how pathetic those clowns are lol" [source]. / "its like we can finally yell about our work but only in limited quantities and basically at the same time fans find out things lolol oh ya and the ea snipers" [source]

Violet: "I might be screaming into the wind, but there's nothing underhanded going on. Release date is coming in August like we already said (so very soon)" / "roadmap will be very soon with some nuggets of what will be coming in August." [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Violet: "I made the announcement [in the Discord about Edge magazine's article], and it's kinda damned if you do, damned if you dont. If you do, people that ONLY want the biggest beats get mad. If you don't, people that want any scrap of news get mad. Personally, I think going towards the latter is better overall. But I'm sorry it wasn't what you expected. I am also a DA fan and care enormously about this project." [source: the official BioWare Discord]

User: "How do we all think the companions for Veilguard flirt?". Violet: "depends on the companion fsfs" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Violet: "soon™️" / "(not trying to be a shit, it will be soon! its a holdover joke from my last studio, i have to put the ™️ every time, its a sickness)" / "real talk, im just as feral as you guys when it comes to DA" / "[re: John being aware of a meme] that doesnt surprise me, [John] gets around 👀" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

[b-skarsgard]

Bill Skarsgård on Remaking Nosferatu and the Pressure of “F--king With a Masterpiece”

The actor on Pennywise, Count Orlok, and the lure of monstrous characters.

(for those who weren’t able to read the article due to a paywall the full interview is now under the cut)

“I’ve always been a very happy monster.” So said Boris Karloff in 1962, looking back at three decades of creatures, ghouls, and killers that defined so much of his life onscreen. Bill Skarsgård hasn’t been at it nearly as long, but his tendency to play supernatural and terrifying figures suggests that, like his fiendish predecessor, he’s made peace with monstrosity.

The blockbusters It and It: Chapter 2 made him a horror icon as Pennywise the Dancing Clown, carrying on a long tradition in his Swedish acting family—which includes his father, Stellan, and older brothers Alexander and Gustaf—of playing haunting roles in hair-raising films. Since Pennywise, Bill has specialized in sinister, scene-stealing parts, from a high-society sociopath in John Wick: Chapter 4 to his recent turn as the otherworldly avenger of this year’s reboot of The Crow. His latest turn finds him playing the vampiric title character in Nosferatu, from The Witch and The Lighthouse filmmaker Robert Eggers, in a collaboration that brings an ominous new approach to the bat-faced antagonist of the 1922 silent film.

For Vanity Fair’s 2025 Hollywood Issue, he talked about touching the void and more.

Vanity Fair: We spoke years ago when you were about to start filming It, and you talked about the challenges of inhabiting an inhuman monster.

Bill Skarsgård: That was the first time—and wouldn’t be the last time—that I was taking on this kind of iconic character that has been done before so well, and that people love and cherish. The whole journey of that was so weird. If I spoke to you after the production, I would’ve been much more confident that we had something that was very special, but in the process of it, I was just like, Why did he cast me? I can’t do this.

We did speak again afterward. You talked about going home to your parents’ house after you finished shooting and being plagued by dreams about the character.

Those dreams were so strange. Either I was confronting Pennywise and I was upset with him, yelling at him—or I was Pennywise, but I was walking around in the streets that I grew up on, and I’m like, No, no. I shouldn’t be out here in public walking around like this. This is not how it’s supposed to be done. It was this weird thing where I was trying to separate myself from this thing, literally back in the place that I grew up in, in the same apartment that I grew up in.

Count Orlok in Nosferatu also emerges from a deep, dark place. What was it like for you to take that particular emotional ice bath?

Count Orlok was very different than Pennywise in a lot of ways. Orlok was even further away from who I am than Pennywise was, in the sense that my voice, posture, age, the look of it, it was just so far out there. That became the challenge. Before putting on the prosthetics, we explored so many weird things and looked into butoh, this sort of Japanese corpse dancing. We explored so many trippy things.

Did you say “corpse dancing”?

Yeah, butoh is this Japanese corpse dance. It’s all these, kind of, mummified movement patterns. It’s spectacular. It brought this much more precise and much more rigid and slow movement. Basically the outfit and the prosthetics helped so much. The voice was what I worked the hardest on. I worked with an opera singer—she tried to get it as low as possible. My brother Gustaf came to set when we were shooting. He’s sitting there and he gets the headphones on and he hears [deep growling sounds] and is like, “What the fuck is going on?” It must have seemed very insane.

Since you come from an acting family, I wondered what role your dad and your brothers play in your decision-making process or in your professional life.

I don’t talk to them in the sense of like, “Hey, do you think I should do this thing or that thing?” Of course, subconsciously, they’re such a big part of my life. It’s hard to quantify how much effect they’ve had in terms of my taste or in terms of performances. It’s great to have their support, more so in life in general than acting itself. It’s nice to be able to talk to your family, just going, like, “Oh, this shoot was a nightmare because of this and this and this.” And they’re like, “Oh yeah, totally. Tell me about it.” The job, the profession of acting, can feel kind of lonely sometimes. It just feels nice to have so many people, close people, around you that truly know what it’s like.

Especially after Nosferatu, people are going to look at your work and see a lot of monsters and a lot of dark figures. Why do you think you’ve been drawn to these characters?

I think those characters are drawn to me as much as I’m drawn to them. It’s a mutual kind of attraction. The fact that they’re drawn towards me is a bunch of different reasons, everything from the way you look, you have a sensibility, there’s a darkness about you, or there’s an intensity.

And it’s something you enjoy too?

Even going back to some of the earlier stuff I did in Sweden, transformation has always been very appealing to me—and playing characters that are very different than me. I played a character that was autistic when I was 19, and I loved it. I had so much joy in it. He’s not a dark character, he’s a very sweet character. But you study, and you change your voice. With Pennywise, that became my ultimate transformation. I just really enjoyed it. Now with Orlok, I really enjoy transforming as much as I humanly can. I think that’s very exciting.

Do you feel a curiosity about the more dangerous side of human nature?

The darker characters also tend to be more complex. More mental gymnastics are needed. Again, with Orlok, it’s like, Okay, if it’s an ancient sorcerer that speaks from a different realm and possesses all of this power and knowledge, what makes power and knowledge ultimately corrupt a soul as opposed to creating a messiah?

Do you ever worry about getting typecast?

I definitely don’t want to exclusively play those kind of roles, but I’ve never seen the appeal of the classic star, a movie star. The difference between a movie star and an actor is that a movie star plays himself in every part, in a way. Whereas as an actor transforms. There are people that play themselves, and they’re brilliant every single time, but it’s the same thing and they have that shtick. For me, I just don’t think that I’m that charismatic or interesting, so I can’t just lean on that. I need to transform as far away from me as possible.

Do you feel a kinship with actors from the past, like, say, Lon Chaney or Boris Karloff, who played dark beings and often transformed their regular appearances?

It’s a great question. Yeah, I do. But that being said, it was never my particular goal to be the “creature actor,” if you will. There are so many [actors] I draw inspiration from. A lot of other actors that are not known for their intense transformations are some of my favorites as well. I haven’t really studied the greats of prosthetics or creature performances in that way. I’ve watched a lot of it, but I don’t watch performances for inspiration per se, because there’s always this thing of emulation that I don’t want to go down. For Orlok, predatory animals felt like a cleaner source of inspiration.

You mentioned earlier that, several times now, you’ve played a character that is well-known from a previous iteration, but you did it in a new and different way. Did you feel that again with Nosferatu?

Orlok is also Dracula. To me, in terms of iconic horror characters, the number one is Dracula/Nosferatu. It’s the most seminal work of literature in gothic horror for sure. I think it’s been adapted more than probably any other book. This story is so ingrained in our subconscious that it was very daunting to step into it. I was a huge fan of [Robert] Eggers before. He and I would have these things we’re like, “What are we doing? Why are we doing Nosferatu? Are we taking on something too big here?” We felt that kind of pressure of fucking with a masterpiece. But the movie deserves its place as a new interpretation.

What’s on the horizon for you next?

I’ve always cherished the idea of being as versatile as I possibly can. I also want to do a kitchen-sink drama, I want to do a dark, fucked-up comedy. I want to make those choices or advocate for those choices. You have to fight against being typecast or put into a box. The more you fight against it, the bigger the box tends to get.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - I’m Not Gay! I’m DEAD! (But Also A Little You Know💅🏻)

For: @hannahmanderr @q-gorgeous and sillysugargliders

Dash overhears the Fenton kid stressin’ about maybe possibly revealing something kinda specific sounding to his parents. The gay vibes are strong, gay vibes he matches but can’t tell anyone else about.

“Okay… okay, you can do this. You have to do this. You can’t keep lying to them. It’s just- Zone, what if they freak out? What if they yell? Or worse… What if they decide to shoot me?”.

Dash blinks, stopping by the janitors closet. That sounded like Fenton?

"And it’s not like they haven’t used weapons on me or Jazz before, but usually it’s not, like, meant to hurt us. And their faces when they talks about, like, ‘those kinds of things’? Like they’re a disease or monsters. And like a Fenton would never be one of ‘those things’”.

Dash grimacing this… this sounded a lot like the things he himself had thought. About his dad mostly, the man was just so macho, so ‘man like woman. Only woman. Want woman’. His dad could be the type to… hit things if he didn’t like them or they weren’t cooperating. And he knows his dad won’t like that certain thing about him.

“But this is me. This is who I am. And I’m tired, so goddamn tired, of hiding it. Of pretending when they ask about that. Of flinching every time they walk by and I worry they’ve figured it out”.

Dash… Dash was damn tired too honestly. It always felt weird acting like he ‘liked liked’ Paulina, but at least since she was considered the hottest girl in school and he was ‘the football king’ it meant his parents only ever asked when he was going to finally get her to hook up with him. They assumed it was her ‘being a prude’, that that’s why he didn’t have her as a girlfriend yet. Totally wasn’t, not that she knew that. Paulina was refusing to date him to maintain her ‘innocent beauty’. He’s perfectly fine with that, he’s pretty sure he absolutely couldn’t force himself to put up with dating any girl.

But at least Dash never had to worry about someone thinking he was gay, he was a tough manly jock after all; while Fenton was a little twink boy.

“Still… what if they don’t love me after this? What if they say I’m disgusting? Or kick me out? I mean… where would I go? I could stay with Tuck for a bit, I guess. He’s always said he’s got my back no matter what. But…”.

Oh yeah the weirdo trio was freakishly close, Dash definitely wished his friend group was close like that. They were basically only friends because they were all on the football team or one of the cheerleaders, officially ‘cool’. The second someone wasn’t ’cool enough’ or someone ‘cooler’ came around then the lowest on the rung go the boot. Dash could never confide in any of them, not even Kwan. He’d be ruined. Fenton’s lucky that way… But Fenton’s definitely got it worse parents wise, those weirdos would be so embarrassing to have… and they literally make weapons and shoot at ghosts and stuff. If they did decide to hurt Fenton, not only would they have guns around but also they’d have the willingness to use them.

“Ancients. What if Mom cries? What if she says I’ve ruined everything? I don’t want to hurt them. But I’m already hurting. I can’t keep being half of myself around them”.

Dash personally doesn’t care what his own parents think of him too much, he just wants to make sure he can still get them to pay for college and shit. Once he leaves them, he’s going no contact with at least his dad. Fenton did seem to actually care about his parents though, and they did treat him better than Dash’s dad treated him. Dash only really wanted to tell his parents so that he could maybe date and shit, try that long distance thing with occasionally inviting whoever over. His mom was pretty big on monitoring his laptop and phone and stuff so currently he can’t even do that much. Messing around in vr chat really wasn’t the same, even if that’s what made him sure of things.

“I keep thinking maybe I’m just being dramatic. Like… like maybe it won’t be that bad. Maybe they’ll just get quiet and weird for a while. But then… I hear mom talking to aunt Alicia while the tv’s on, her going on about how ‘those things deserve it’, and I feel this knot in my chest like I’m already being erased”.

Dash cringing a bit, yeah that? That definitely sounded like the guy shouldn’t tell his parents. Sure he doesn’t know exactly what things on tv the guys mom was talking about but… that definitely sounds pretty pro-homophobic culling or whatever the right word was. Kid might actually get himself killed or something here. Should he totally punch Fenton’s mom? No way he could punch Mr. Fenton, guy was a giant brick shit house. Pretty sure he’s seen that guy throw that weird suv tank thing the Fenton’s drove.

“What if they say I’ve just been ‘made this way’ by some ghost? Or that I’m actually just possessed? Even though that’s just not possible, and I’ve been this way since I was fourteen for sure. I’ve just been hiding it like it’s some dirty secret because I didn’t want to lose them or get shot at”.

Oh yeah totally tracks that the crazy weirdo Fenton’s would blame ghosts for their son being some kinda queer or for being any kind of way they don’t like. They blamed ghosts for just about anything. Like the lack of birds last spring? Ghosts. The school got a paint job over the summer and he’s pretty sure he remembers hearing Mr. Fenton shouting about the ghosts ‘slobbering’ on it because some of the paint was green.

“But every time I stay quiet, every time I laugh when they expect me to, or nod when they make a joke or threat about ‘those things’… I feel like I’m losing a little more of myself”.

Dash felt like that a lot with Kwan too, and his mom a little. Like he was being mean to them just by hiding himself. Like he was separat from them and not really there or something. Like he was messing his muscles up by stuffing himself into a too tight jacket.

“I used to dream I wasn’t like this. I used to beg at night, actually beg, that something would just change in me. That I’d wake up and suddenly be ‘normal’. But I don’t do that anymore. Haven’t in a long time. Not because I don’t still get scared, but because I finally stopped believing I’m broken”.

Goddamn twinks gonna make him teary eyed at this point… should he like? go in? He doesn’t give a shit about eavesdropping, but like they were samesies or something. Both at least some kinda queer. Fenton could vent to him kinda, and Dash could maybe actually tell someone for once.

“I like who I am. I like who I’m becoming. And now I’m legit thinking about gambling that, on the hope that my folks won’t just pull a gun on me. Or worse… stare at me all the time looking like they don’t know me anymore or like they hate the fact that I exist”.

Flushing a little, Dash definitely wouldn’t gamble with having a place to live, or his college fund, or his social standing. Really weird Fenton actually being tougher than him like that, to even consider risking that shit.

“I don’t know how they’ll react. Maybe I’m giving them too little credit. But… maybe I’m not. That’s the part that eats at me. The not knowing. Not being able to predict if it would end in a hug and apologies for making me feel unsafe, or in me having to flee in the dead or the night. Maybe I should just write a letter? When I’m far far away? So if it goes bad, I don’t have to see it or get attacked?”.

Now what was that about Fenton being remotely stronger than him in any way? If this loser weirdo was gonna try at being a tough little shit, he might as well actually be tough about it! Unbelievable. Oh he is definitely going in there.

Dash shoving the door open, making Fenton nearly launch himself into the ceiling. Dash pointing at the little guy, “don’t be a pussy, bitch. You might be a weird little twink, but man up. If you’re gonna spill your guts or whatever, at least have the guts to do it fully yourself. Like with football, the aggressive ones who run in head first are the coolest and best on the field”.

“I- what- Dash? Uh, ah”, Fenton starts rubbing his neck, “I- I totally don’t know what you could possibly be talking about. Heh”.

Dash putting his hands on his hips, huffing down at the boy, “don’t be stupid, moron. I’ve been listening to you bitch and moan for, like, ten minutes or some shit. Grow a pair of balls if you feel that strongly about not wanting to hide yourself”.

Fenton yelping, “wh- what do you mean?!”, shaking his head and standing up right more so, “what the hell would you know, Dash-”.

Dash rolling his eyes, “oh my dad is way worse than your parents are, with all his macho tough guy shit and punching tvs when they don’t work”.

“Mine have literally shot me before, you ass”.

“Why the Hell would you want to tell them anything then, you dumbass!”.

“Because they’re mostly well meaning and I wanna be my damn well self, not like you should care about that. With me being all ‘freaky Fenton’ and all. What? You want an excuse to pelt me with stuff or something?”.

“No! But you’re sure making me want to hit you!”, Dash huffing and crossing his arms, he’s not just gonna start beating the hell out of the one person he might actually be able to confide in, holy shit, “I definitely love beating the shit outta you but I’m not nearly self hating enough, or whatever, to beat you up just for being some type of gay”.

Fenton’s eye twitches, then he looks like someone just punched him in the face -a look Dash is more than familiar with- and like nasa just announced aliens were visiting earth. Fenton just stares for a while before gesturing his hands around wildly, “what are you even talking about?! I’m not gay, I’m dead!”, sputtering grossly, “and self hating?”, going wide eyed, “bloody Ancients are you gay?????”. Then he somehow goes more wide-eyed and like he’s gonna throw up or some shit, “forget I said all of that oh no”.

Dash flushing a little, “I mean yes? And wait what? What… what do you mean dead”; and puts his hands on the sides of his face, “oh oh he’s not queer, I totally fucked up”, then pointing at Danny aggressively, “you better not tell anyone! You- I will really give you the beating of a life time if you even think about screwing me over like that, Fenturd”.

Fenton practically shrieking, “so long as you don’t tell anyone that I’m dead! Oh zone I can not believe I said that!”, smacking his forehead a couple of times, “stupid Danny! Stupid stupid Danny”.

Dash gesturing wildly at the freak, “you can’t believe you told me? I! Can’t believe I told you!”.

Fenton bending over and wheezing, “oh Ancients, ugh”, makes a little gagging sound but thankfully doesn’t actually throw up, ew, “if it’s anything I do not care, Dash. Be as gay as you wanna be, run around in a bondage nipple harness and gay pride boxers for all I care”, giving Dash a weak thumbs up, “and if there’s anything I know, it’s how to keep a damn secret, normally anyways, ugh”, and lifts his head up to glare up at Dash like he expects something from Dash or some shit.

Dash blinking harshly, “I’m… not gonna tell people you’re dead. What the fuck though, really?”, scrunching up his eyebrows. That… that actually made a lot more sense, freaks parents were literally ghost hunters! Of course he’d be worried they’d try to shoot him! They probably would! Blinking, “and yeah no, they’d shoot you, man. They still shoot Phantom and he’s clearly a good guy. Like, duh, you moron”.

Fenton aggressively flips him off, before straightening up and rubbing his neck, “yeah… I know”, narrowing his eyes at Dash then shaking his head and sighing, “but a guy can talk to himself about what he’d like to do, can’t he? And sometimes they seem better”.

Dash scratching his head and actually coming fully inside of the janitors closet, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, “I mean, same? But ha, no”.

Fenton blinking, “okay so clearly you don’t trust or like your parents as much as I do. Which fair, if your dad beats the shit out of tv’s”; rubbing his neck and grumbling, “at least my folks actually think they’re ’doing the right thing’”.

Dash scoffing, “right, because attacking the town hero is the right thing. Your parents suck, mine just suck more”, shrugging, “and yeah I guess I don’t really care what they know about it, but I’d like to actually date someone”.

Fenton sneering, “oh must be so tough, well I’d like to not get shot at by my own houses defences systems”.

Alright, Dash can admit that’s messed up. “That’s mess up, dude”.

“No fucking shit, Dash”.

Dash blinking, “so… you’re, like, totally dead dead?”.

“Oh fuck off”.

Dash sticking his hands out, “hey! You have an identity secret thing, I have an identity secret thing! Stop being a butt hurt little baby”.

“I’m gonna be as butt hurt as I wanna be, you jerk”, Fenton growling a little, “why would I even want to talk to you about anything frankly? Geez”.

Dash glaring, “because I’m here and blocking the only exit”. Fenton… sticks his arm THROUGH THE WALL! Oh wow, “okay that’s cool”, shaking his head, “because you're less of an ass than I am and you’d feel bad not talking to me after I spilled my crap because of your crap?”.

Fenton sputters, “I- wow”, shaking his head and smirking, “I’m actually impressed by how mentally manipulative that was, congrats on not just using your fists to get what you want, Dash”.

This time it’s Dash who flips Fenton off.

Fenton sighing after a while of the two staring at each other; daring the other to either speak or leave. “Ugh what’s even the point in bullshiting him?”. Dash won the staring match! Ha! Then Fenton suddenly had this ring thin- and HOLY SHIT FENTON IS PHANTOM! Dash passes out to Fenton shouting, “oh come on! Seriously!”.

Dash comes to to Phantom blowing cold air at his face, sputtering and trying to smack away the cold, “what the zone, why! Ack!”, sitting up and staring at his literal biggest crush and the town hero just crouched down in front of him, arms on his knees, and head titled. Dash blinking harshly, “I can’t believe Fenturd is Phanturd”.

And… and Phantom starts laughing, putting his head in one hand, “is that just always what you say when you discover my shit? Wow”.

Dash has no clue what he means by that, “uh”.

Phantom waving him off, “it’s fine it’s fine”, then giving that stupid dumb smirk that makes Dash’s chest squeeze and do weird little flips, “and I can’t believe you freaking passed out, very smooth, you are such a fanboy”.

Dash very stupidly blurting out, “it’s a lie! I don’t have a crush on you!”.

Phantom going wide-eyed slowly, cheeks turning faintly green, “that… that makes a lot more sense”, then screwing up his face and laughing, “oh ha, you’re a total monster fucker”.

Look, okay, Phantom is lean, he’s bloody well sculpted. The hair was totally stunning. Piercing playful eyes. The stupid glow. “I- you’re very fit- and okay yeah totally”.

Phantom snorts, “eh not like I can judge, I’ve made out with someone with a beak before”.

“O- okay?”. What is Dash supposed to do with that information? “I have one of those beak face masks that move with your mouth when you talk?”.

Phantom wheezing and flopping back onto the floor, “dude, beaks are not my type, what the fuck. I just like people who can beat the shit out of me”.

“Uh”. Dash is people who can beat the shit out of Fenton! Do beat the shit out of Fenton!

Then there’s a flash of light, and it’s Fenton’s pale ungloved hands that moves to be behind the guy’s head, “I can’t believe you actually have a crush on me, that me. Wow”.

Dash stuttering a little, “o- oh shut up”, before flopping back down to lay down too, “and this doesn’t even change it”. Is… is that weird? Has he just secretly liked Fenton this entire time????? Is that the real reason why the freak was his favourite to wail on?

Fenton snorting, “that is not a compliment”, Fenton hitting Dash one on the leg, “are you really a real life version of that ‘he hits you because he likes you’ line? That’s messed up. Would expect it out of a ghost though”. Dash just groans so Fenton continues mildly torturing him, “aw, is Dashie mad I’m mocking his little crush?”. Dash kicks him that time. Fenton snorting, “ahh right back to beating me, nice”.

Dash putting his hands over his face, “you suck, Fenton”.

“You want to suc-”.

Dash jerks up and starts smacking at his stupid asshole face, “oh shut up!”. Fenton immediately starts smacking back… weakly because holy shit if Phantom hit him full strength Dash would lose an arm or his head. The two basically devolving into a slap fight for a little while.

… They both just wind up laughing at each other after a while. Dash shaking his head, sitting cross legged, “I really can’t believe I told the school freak and my, uh, crush that I’m gay”.

Fenton snorting, also cross legged, “and I can’t believe I told my personal bully who actually just has a crush, that I’m dead and the town hero”.

Dash blinking, “so…”, shaking his head, “I totally still think you shouldn’t tell your parents this, they literally shot you”.

Fenton sighing, “and I agree that you shouldn’t tell yours”, running his neck, “and that you’re probably right about my folks”.

“Damn right I am”. Fenton just sticks his tongue out at him so Dash coughs a little awkwardly, “now about that crush”; hey Dash might as well shot his shot here alright? Plus, guy could be invisible, he could totally come over without Dash’s parents noticing.

Fenton gives him an unamused look before rolling his eyes, “I mean, I’m not gay but I am pan. And I’m definitely only into people who can beat me up”.

“I will start choking you right here and now”.

“Kinky”.

Dash sputtering a little, “I- uh”, clearing his throat, “that’s the point”.

Fenton snorting, “yeah it is”.

Dash stares at Fenton, Fenton stares at Dash. Fenton snickering after a while, “who’s the pussy now, bitch”.

That’s it, Dash is killing this damn twink. Dash lunging at Fenton immediately.

The impact is explicitly gay.

End.

Prompts: Dash Baxter has a major secret. Somehow, the only person in which he can confide is Danny Fenton. Identity reveal. Dash finds out Danny is Phantom. What happens? Could be swagger bishie or not, either or is okay. Dash overhears Danny talking about coming out as a ghost to his parents, and comes to the wrong conclusion.

[revetahwsstuff]

Johnny Cage

With a (bottom) Male S/O who is basically similar to Nicole Watterson but reversed. Pt.2

(Daycare!)

M/N watched as his 3 children kept chanting that weird name, now he wasn’t familiar with anyone with that kind of name unless they were talking about Kakashi Hatake which the name “Ninja mime” fits him.

To M/N, he looks like any old-rich- white-dude so why are his kids are so fond of him suddenly? “Woah there little children! Don’t make a scene out of me.” Johnny Cage said with a snarky grin making M/N stoic expression turn firm a little.

“Come on kids, let’s not disturb the gentlemen.” M/N voice had a bit of sweetness mix with irritation as he began to push the cart full of food but it seems like his children didn’t want to leave.

“Aww, but dad. Look this may sound surprising to you but could we at least hang in the store for a couple of hours?” C/N one said, “This is like the only one time we actually might be grateful towards you if you do.” C/N three said

“Couple of hours? No, we have to get home early, cook dinner, go to sleep and take you kids to school.” M/N rebuttal and his three children pouted before looking up at Johnny with adorable-dejected-looking-faces.

“Looks like we can’t know each other yet Ninja-Mime.” C/N two with sadness. Johnny looked down with a half-smile. Looking up at their father who was beginning to walk away. Johnny crouched at their height “How about I..go to your house?”

“You can do that?!” C/N one question with excitement and Johnny just gave them a playful wink.

“Children!!” M/N yelled, the 3 kids jumped at their fathers voice and scurried away from Johnny to their father who was already 6 feet away from them from the aisle.

———————————————————————

Around 5, at home. Biyu was out of the house again to work dead-paying job meaning the children own the house now to do whatever they want.

“He should be here any minute now.”

“You sure? Someone like him has way too much on his hands” C/N two replied to C/N one. The two youngsters head downstairs and stood in front of the door, C/N one was tapping their shoes on the wooden floor impatiently before the doorbell was heard. The children immediately yanked the door open and had nervous smiles on their faces with Johnny cage looking down at them with wide eyes when seeing their nervous expression.

“You kids okay? I know I’m a celebrity and all but- you guys don’t seem like-“

“Oh no! We do want you here! Come! Come in.” C/N two nudged their small hand out for Johnny to come inside. The two looked up with creepy smiles but they were just shy and nervous since a big star came inside their little home. Johnny entered their small house, it was homey but very clustered as their were toys on the floor, and colored pencils laying around with papers drawn. A fish tank sitting on a dresser and kitchen just a few steps away.

The children began to pick up and tidy the living room up a little for their special guest and they did it pretty fast, C/N puts a towel where they accidentally spilled orange juice on the cushion and led Johnny where to sit which he oblige. “So this is where you guys sleep, not particularly my taste but for a normal family such as you guys.” Johnny looked around before he heard something moving and he adverted his eyes to see the three kids of M/N just staring at them. “Do you want anything sir? We got water, Thai tea or orange juice?”C/N one question with a nervous smile

“No need for the hospitality kids, just call me Johnny.” He interjected, “ok! Johnny?! How was your day?! What did you ate?!” M/N children energy were high! Johnny could understand where M/N stoic personality came from (If M/N came back and spot Johnny with his children it would drop his energy already.)

“I haven’t really ate anything today, but I did snuck out during a meeting for a movie just to see you kids.” Johnny replied, “awh, we were that important even we just met..well I know you..but you don’t know me-“ C/N one continued before C/N two smack them on the head for their sibling to not reveal the stalkings they did on Johnny’ daily life.

“So kids..do you guys have any games to play?” Johnny cage asked as he leaned back in the small couch, his legs had to be out stretched on the floor since he was tall.

“We can play (Your favorite game) on the PS5!” C/N one suggests and C/N two opens a cabinet under the TV to reveal the many games they had before picking the game C/N said they could play. The kids brought out their controllers and tossed one to Johnny who caught it in ease. The three began to play the game on the TV, making loud noises in the process making the toddler in the house awake

“CAN YOU GUYS BE QUIET?!” C/N three shouts from the nursery room, the older kids and Johnny quickly shut their mouth but later snickered in response. The three continued to play the PS5 until the clock strikes at 7pm. The sounds of keys rattling against the door heard before opening-

“What are you kids doing?!”

[oscconfessions]

i have this reoccurring daydream where i am teleported into iii as a contestant. But I’m still fully human and everything. So all of the other characters are like What The Fuck and treat me like an outcast, and i don’t know how to properly go up to them without being super awkward because 1) they hate me for being human and 2) i already know so much about them so what if i slip up and accidentally say something that they call out as being a little weird. so basically i’m a loner and everyone hates me

and i’m put in a cabin (do they have cabins iii? i choose to believe they do. those motherfuckers should not sleep on the floor.) with box and i’m like “fucking hell of course i get put with the nonsentient one” and stuff. and i’m sitting there, day after day getting weird looks and waiting for my literal cardboard box of a roommate to get the shit beaten out of it, and i sort of end up ranting about all the bullshit the other contestants are doing and how shitty they are to it, and eventually i end up getting attached to box. and then the thing happens and i get back to my cabin and realize… it’s so lonely here. it’s so empty. so i am Spiraling.

and then there’s a new episode that wasn’t originally in the season and the whole thing was just an interview about how you see your other contestants, and i go through and get asked a bunch of stuff and try to answer as vaguely as possible because i can’t let it slip that i Know Too Much and things are well and good. But at the end of the day, all the contestants are sat down and shown a compilation of all the interviews. And every contestant— minus like a handful who are neutral/vaguely positive— are just shitting on me for being weird and quiet and human. there’s no elimination that night, so i’m left to sit there and realize that everyone despises me. everyone hates me. and i break down.

the next day, i don’t come out of my cabin. not until i’m physically dragged out and plopped down to do the challenge. the team yells at me for not being there, and one in particular makes a comment about how “it’s no wonder everyone hates you” and i straight up tell that motherfucker that “nobody asked. shut your mouth.” and everyone’s all pissy and we end up losing the challenge. then a similar thing to that one yinyang voting angst shit happens, the viewers vote for my immunity and everyone votes for me out because of “this bitch said a mean thing :(“ bullshit. and im like. oh my god what the fuck guys.

and then there’s more to that but this just sounds so fucking cringe already. it gets more cringe and thats why i wont share it here but things do end up looking better for me in the daydream!!! its not all social torture guys!!! anyways why the fuck do i think about this kind of thing i need more therapy

-🥜🪶 Anon

.

[kahlanmars]

BAD FEELING part. 12

Hiiiiii! In the next chapter Haymitch will return. THANKS SO MUCHHHHH FOR THE COMMENTS!! Those made me soooo happyyyy!

MASTERLIST

*gif not mine* I was thinking about her as Daisy, with raven hair of course. Tell me what you think!

12. Friends

You wake up to the sunlight, even if you know that it is not really the sun. You’ve had some meat strings from Lora’s backpack for dinner so you are not starving, but you are still hungry in the morning. Good thing you are used to being hungry, thanks District 12 you guess. You wonder if there is any food left in the arena, if they put it in the arena or if you are supposed to kill a shark.

Stupid games. It was Perla’s turn to guard, and you see her, eyes open, a blank expression on her face. What the hell do they do to you, Perla?

«Ehi girl, we have to wake up.» 

You don’t really want to wake up Lora, who’s curled up against you. She had the first turn to guard and she deserves a good sleep. She didn’t deserve to be in the games, she is so young.

“And you deserve it?”, a voice asks you in your mind. “You don’t deserve to get out of it alive?”. You have a mother too, a family too.

She believes in you. You could kill her right now and she believes in you so much she sleeps on your lap. It’s not safe. And that place is messing with your head so much you actually thought about it.

«Lora?» You tentatively ask, stroking her brown hair.

«Five minutes.» She begs, and you smile because she looks like a child.

«I usually am the spoiled baby, if I have to behave like a proper adult a little more I’ll go crazy.» You joke, whispering that in her ear, and she laughs. At least you made her laugh.

«Perla can be the adult.» She points out, and the blue eyed girl snorts.

«No way, I want to be as spoiled as you two are. Let’s stay here for another minute.» And with that decision she climbs on top of you and now the three of you are wrapped in a hug. It feels good to have a friend.

While you are here, stroking Lora and Perla’s hair, you begin to hear a sound. It’s a weird, low sound that you quite can’t put a finger on.

«Is that…?»  You turn your head, and you immediately know that the jokes are to be put aside. You just forgot for a minute where you were. 

«Water?» Perla guesses. You are not sure of what it is, but you know that the game masters don’t want you three to be where you are right now, and so they have to move you. That could mean death.

«Fuck.»

You begin to run, hands to hands to the girls until you lose each other. The noise is near now, and you can hear water coming down violently in a cascade. Are they trying to flood the caves? Because there is a shark out there and you don’t want to be in underwater caves. 

«Do you know how to swim?» Perla yells, clearly worried. Perla is from the sea district, those kids know how to swim even before they know how to walk, they are little mermaids. In District 12 it is not mandatory to know how to swim, most people work in the mines, mostly men, and sometimes we hunt. Not you, tho, you don’t like to kill animals. Holly, however, was strict in her education and cautiously taught you all the skills that she could when you were a child. She used to say “One less thing that could harm you”, and that meant knowing herbs, basic survival skills like how to light a fire, and of course swimming in the lake. 

«Yes!» You answer because you don’t want to worry the girl, and you can hear Lora giving her the same answer. Good, so you don’t have to protect each other. 

You run and you prepare yourself to be hit by the water. You try to catch your breath, but it’s not easy, the water is violent and the impact is scary. You are dragged and you are almost sure you are going to die, the water is so cold it’s hard on your skin, you try to breathe without success and you don’t have any control on your body, that is being smacked around in the cave’s walls. 

You can hear a voice, a familiar voice, the voice of the man that you love, your mother’s, your best friend. They are begging you, it doesn't suit them, they never beg. Stay alive, stay alive, stay alive. 

The next moment you open your eyes your throat hurts like hell, like the moment when Clark tried to choke you. Your eyes don’t want to collaborate, as for a minute you can’t see anything apart from light. You don’t think you are dead, though, because there is no music, your whole body is killing you (and that would be unfair if you were already dead, wouldn’t it be?) and most importantly there is no food. 

You spit water and you try to understand where you are. It is not ice, which is good considering there is a shark out there. 

You are too scared of the shark. You have to remember that it’s not only a shark, it’s not a normal animal, it is released to have a shock effect when nobody is doing anything. 

But then again, you are District Twelve, and it is almost mandatory that this year District Twelve doesn’t win, no matter what you did for Snow or how good you were in the parade and in the interview. Katniss plants confirmed that for you. It is probably why Snow used you to get rid of his political opponent, you were going to die in a week no matter what.

Still, this is not ice, this is artificial. You are in the Cornucopia.

That makes you alive, which is good, and exposed, which is bad. If anyone had a bow and an arrow you are dead, so you have to hide. 

You have no idea where Perla and Lora are, you hope the water didn’t kill them and they are okay, but you don’t dare shout their names in the air.

You try to step up and you have to put a mouth on your hand not to scream. Your legs, your ribs, everything you could think of in your body hurt like hell. Still you have to get up if you don’t want to die, and you made a promise so you can’t, so you limp into the Cornucopia. This is, the Cornucopia is a small room that looks like an armoury. On the walls there are a lot of weapons, daggers, a bow and an arrow, a lot of empty spaces, and you immediately look at a pair of skates. You have to have them, to run on the ice. 

You reach for them with your bare hands when you hear a noise behind you. You turn around, and you find the one person you don’t want to see. 

«Clark.»

His eyes are spirited, like he has seen things he wasn’t ready to see. His shirt is open, revealing a huge scar that couldn’t be because of the Hunger Games. Daddy dearest, you think.

«Hello again, Daisy.»

His face has a huge scar and you don’t think he can see from the right eye. 

He is still handsome, tho. Green eyes like his sisters, blonde hair. That could mean sponsors? Maybe they asked to specifically sponsor him and not the District, maybe now he is well fed and you are not.

«Clark, I don’t want to harm you. We can talk about it, ok? We can be allies.» You hate him in your guts, but if all the story in your head is true there is no need to die. Not for him, but for Dianna. For Madge, who is his cousin and you really like Madge. And because it would hurt Haymitch not to save him, and you love him. 

«Oh, but the thing I want to harm you.» He grins and he traps you under his body. You try to scratch him with your nails and punch him in his lower parts, but it seems to be ineffective, he is too strong and too fit and too determined to kill you.

«You stupid, we could win!» You try to make him resonate with you, but you understand something. He is looking for an excuse to harm you. Your minds are simply different, you hate him but you don’t want to be the cause of his pain, he is absolutely sure you are a bad thing to extirpate, a bad plant he has to burn so it can’t convert the other poor plants in the district. It is an honour for him to be here at this moment. 

«I will win, you will die.» He says it like it’s a fact already decided. 

He wins, you lose. 

No!, a voice tries to wake you. Fight! You can’t let him win, you can’t let him take away your life! You worked hard, you deserve it!

You thought the voice was Haymitch, or Holly, or maybe Effie. But you were wrong before. It’s your voice.

In that moment you don’t think about him, you think about Dianna, the little girl who was your best friend when you were kids, the beautiful girl with green eyes and blonde hair that kisses you on the cheek too much to be just a friend, your first kiss on the lips, so good, so delicate. You think about Dianna, beaten by her father because of your kiss, a black shadow around her eye, that cries and begs her father not to harm you while he is punching you in the stomach. 

You were fourteen.

Clark was there, watching, and you still don’t know if he was disgusted by you or satisfied by his father’s actions.

He deserves it.

«Don’t worry, I will take care of your sister.» You whisper with your last straw of voice.

You take the skate and with the last straw of strength you cut his throat. 

When Perla and Lora see you, they find you in a pool of blood, still in shock. You killed before, but you knew Clark. He wasn’t some Capitol Bastard who wanted to assault you and the other victors, and Snow didn’t order you to kill him or he would’ve harmed Effie and Haymitch.

He was a bastard, and he wanted to slaughter you. But he was from home, he hated Capitol, he hated the games. 

You just know Dianna is crying right now at home, maybe her parents are giving the blame to her because you killed him. All the people in the district hate you now? Because you took Clark away from them? Holly will not be proud. She will look you in the eyes and she will realise that the girl that she raised is not there anymore and now you are nothing but a murderer. You know how they watch Haymitch when he is in the market, even he buys something from everyone everyday with his victor’s money to help them. They respect him, but they fear him. They are well aware he is capable of killing people to save himself, that he has blood on his hands.

And Haymitch, saints, Haymitch. He was trying to save Clark from death, he was trying to save the both of you from the death and you of all people burned his plan to the ground. Will he hate you too? You don’t want to be hated by the person you are in love with, but maybe you deserve it.

You are a murderer. Again. 

«I am sorry…» You whisper without any strength in your voice and you watch them with watery eyes. «I didn’t want to… I didn’t, he was from home…»

«I know, I know.» Perla carries you up, away from the body. 

«They will hate me, tributes don’t kill tributes from their district.» You are lost, still clearly upset, and even if you tell yourself to shut up your mouth doesn’t want to listen to you. You shake so much it hurts. Lora looks at you with her big brown eyes and you think that maybe she can see the monster too now, the charade is finished. 

«Listen to me, ehi, listen to me.» She says instead. You try to watch her, really look at her, without thinking things. 

She keeps going. «You did what you had to do. These are the Hunger Games, not peek a boo. Everybody knows that, and nobody will think you are a bad person. He was going to kill you, wasn’t he?»

You nod. «Yes.» You whisper.

«Yes.» She repeats and she hugs you tight. «You think you can carry a weapon?»

You have to if you want to live. 

«I don’t know if I can stay up.» You admit. All the bones in your body don’t cooperate. 

«You can’t?» Perla comes closer, and she is worried, almost angry. «You are sure you can’t?»

«No, I’m not but… I think I’ve got a broken rib or something like that.»

They look at each other. And then Lora talks. «If we want to do it it’s better to do it now.»

«It’s too soon.» Perla debates.

«It’s now or never!»

You can feel the fear growing in your body. Are they going to kill you? Are they deciding if they want to kill you now in front of you? Well, it is fair. You can’t go away, you are traumatised, your legs won’t cooperate to save you. And you don’t have a weapon in your hand, the skates are near Clark’s body, away from you. 

But why save you before? «Don’t, please.» You try to beg, and tears start streaming down your face.

You don’t want to die, but you don’t stand a chance against two people who are not harmed and maybe they also have a dagger.

«Daisy we don’t… we don’t want to…» Perla starts, but you are scared. You are terrified. You knew the day was going to come, that an ally in the hunger games is not a forever ally, but you thought the careers or the shark would have come sooner than them. You don’t want to be killed off by your friends.

Are you naive? To you, they are friends. You shared a dramatic experience, it’s not something you can share with everybody.

«Don’t come any closer!» You shout and you try with all your strength to stand up, only to collapse a moment after.

«Don’t be stupid we are not trying to kill you.» She keeps saying. Is it not like she would say “Oh yeah, we are about to plan your death.” 

You can’t do anything but back away. And back away, and back away.

«Don’t come closer to the ice!» Lora shouts. She seems scared, and you are torn. In the water there is something you know is just begging for you to come near. The game makers are probably waiting for the District 12 girl to die, after Clark. 

«It’s the shark or you!» You yell back.

«Daisy. Try to hold on as much as you can.» Perla tells you, and you suddenly remember Primrose’s words after the reaping.

“Like Uncle Haymitch alway says”, try to hold on as much as you can, the little girl said after a hug. How could she know that? 

And the world begins to shake. And you feel a sudden pain on the nape and everything turns black.

[dollarstorebarbie]

Hope I’m Doing This Right (If Not… just pretend you didn’t see me)

Well hey there, internet strangers.

It took me 20 minutes to figure out how to change my profile picture. At one point I was hovering over the "edit" button and whispering "do it, coward," like that was gonna make it work faster. Tumblr is... not intuitive. But I think I got it now. Maybe. If you're seeing a blurry picture of me from three summers ago holding a corn dog—just know I tried.

I almost gave up and made a LiveJournal like my daddy used to talk about, but then I remembered he said it was run by Russians now. And Daddy didn’t trust Russians. Too many spy movies growing up, I guess. He also didn’t trust store-brand toothpaste, touchscreen menus, or possums. Only one of those is reasonable.

Anyway, I’m Sabrina. I'm twenty, and I just moved to Kintlerton to go to college at Hodge Community. I’m majoring in Media Studies & Theater because I like stories and talking and being a little dramatic. I live with my cousin Layla now—she’s basically everything I want to be when I grow up: hot, successful, scary in a good way. She’s a TV investigative reporter and people in this county still write her name in for the Miss Hodge County pageant, even though she hasn’t competed in years and legally can’t win again. I love her.

I work part-time at Guzzler’s gas station, which sounds glamorous and mysterious but is mostly me getting yelled at by truckers because the pump buttons are too faded. The boss has a crush on me, which is awkward, but also means I’ve gotten away with showing up late and spilling nacho cheese on the credit card reader more than once.

I’m not a party girl exactly, but I do like to cut loose once in a while—especially when I can get dolled up and head to the city. I’d never live there though. Too much concrete, not enough crickets. I need my weird little bugs and my slightly haunted pine trees.

I guess this blog is gonna be a mix of:

Late night thoughts I’ll probably delete in the morning

Drawings and WIP stuff for my “Sabrina in Video Games” comic (right now I’m in my Sabrina Belmont arc, and yes it’s Castlevania-inspired and yes there will be vampires and cute outfits)

Memories I miss, people I miss, feelings I wish I didn’t have at 1AM

Sweet tea reviews, maybe?

Anyway… hi. If you’re still reading this, thanks for being here. Or for being nosey. Either way, I like you.

Love, 💋 Sabrina

[blurglesmurfklaine]

time loop fic 👁️ VERY INTERESTING WOULD LIKE TO SEE IT

ONE DAY!!!! I have, in fact, started writing it but I am however an incredibly slow writer so do with that what you will!

I WANNA GO OFFFFD ABOUT THIS AU BUT ALSO DONT WANNA GIVE TOO MUCH AWAY BC J THINK ITS GOT SOME FUN TWISTS AND TURNS SO ILL SOUND OFF UNDER THE CUT

Si the premise is basically: season four shooting time loop. It’s from Eddie’s pov and the first day he goes about his day and then gets shot in a similar fashion as in canon and boom—wakes up the next day like “Hm. What a weird fuckin dream I had. Also all this deja vu is weird????”

He realizes pretty soon that he’s in a time loop and he doesn’t always get shot, but he does always die. It’s giving Happy Death Day. But for the gay wee woo show.

Anyhow, finally, someway somehow, he FINALLY survives an entire day. He hasn’t told anyone about the time loop at this point because this is Eddie Diaz we are talking about. He will keep his feelings and problems right here, and then one day he’ll die (it’s the same day just over and over again)

It’s the end of a long hard shift so Bobby lets them out early and Buck and Eddie go to the Diaz residence and… there keep being… Moments. Moments With Gravitas. And Signifcant Looks. And Buck is Very Close and Very Much In Eddie’s Space, but… Eddie can’t bring himself to close the gap between him and Buck. Because today isn’t like other days. He survived. So when he wakes up, he’ll have to deal with the consequences of ruining his friendship. He almost wishes this had happened before the time loop was about to close. Because there’d be no risk, so there’d be nothing holding him back.

So instead, he laughs it off, tells Buck he’s had one too many beers and takes another swig of his own. The clock strikes midnight. Everything goes fuzzy.

Eddie wakes up in his bed again, with the same Cindy Laupner song playing. And he just yells “FUCK”

Okay so. (He almost kissed Buck last night). Surviving the day didn’t break the loop. (Buck almost kissed him last night. Tonight. Whatever.) Then what will? (Hoooooly shit he almost kissed Buck).

As it turns out, Eddie is not as interested in figuring out what will break the time loop as he is in avoiding his feelings. He books a flight to El Paso and hangs with his parents for the day. Then stays home and cleans, learns to draw, literally ANYTHINGG except going to work. And then he takes Chris on an all day adventure, and of course Chris asks if his Uncle Buck can come. And of course Eddie has to oblige.

And they have a lovely day playing hooky together! Of course they did, why wouldn’t they? They’re best friends and NOTHING IS WEIRD. Why would any of it be weird. It’s only weird if Eddie makes it weird and it is sooooo not weird.

But it gets weird. Later at the Diaz residence when they have a repeat of the same Heavh Ass Moment. And it’s weird but Eddie decides FUCK IT because if he’s going to be stuck in this time loop he might as well his his best boy friend! And so he does. He kisses Buck. And Buck kisses back. Holy shit. Buck kisses him back.

The clock strikes midnight. Everything goes fuzzy.

Eddie wakes up in his bed again, with the same Cindy Laupner song playing.

But this time, he’s got a big ass grin on his face and when he walks into the firehouse, the first thing he says is yell, “Buckley! Get your ass down here!” And Buck, thinking there’s something wrong, runs down all concerned but Eddie just pulls him into the nearest closet and kisses the absolute sense out of him.

Then they have sex. Gay sex, to be sepcific. A looooooot of gay sex, every day that the loop resets they just be fuckin nasty. Matching each others freak. No it doesn’t make them gay. You can’t be gay in the time loop it doesn’t count.

Anyway. So. Eddie gets to know Buck’s body… intimately. Biblically, really. And he slowly learns all the things Buck likes and doesn’t like etc and he almost feels bad for Buck because he’s at a disadvantage, but it’s Buck and Buck is veeeeeeery good at sex so. It’s not like Eddie is really missing out on anything.

I keep thinking of this interaction, during foreplay, where Eddie is just being a gif damn fucking simp, melting like chocolate in Buck’s hands and says, “God I love it when you do that”

And Buck, being the cheeky little shit he is, grins and laughs, “Oh, don’t I know it”

And Eddie. Freezes. “Wait what?”

“What?”

“How would you—OH MY GOD? YOU TOO???”

“OH MY GOD????”

“HOW LONG??”

“A LONG FUCKIN TIME!!!”

And that’s how they find out the other is in the time loop :) not through any means of actual communication, but sex :)

The ending is a secret between god and someone else, not I. I’ll figure it out. Probably.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

God of Cowboys and Fools - Chapter Two

“Untie me!” I command.

Arthur Lester gives me a look so dry it could crack my lip again. “No.”

He dares! “I command you!”

“And then you’d what? Attack me?” says he.

I hadn’t considered that. “No. What I want from you must be given freely.”

Written for the @malevolentmadnessmixup event! Art by @futuresoon.

>>> READ ON AO3 OR BELOW <<<

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

Chapter Two

I think gods aren’t supposed to go dark. I don’t know for sure; I know so little, honestly, having existed for about four hours now. But this? Going dark feels wrong. Anathema. The antithesis of what I am.

You know what doesn’t help? That damn voice yelling at me. Swinging between My glorious King and You stupid shit, basically, with varying phrasing. Whatever. I ignore him and open my eyes.

Huh. Where the fuck is this? It’s a fucking cave? I’m in a cave?

No, a mine, says the voice, sounding disgruntled.

Well, I’m disgruntled, too! I'm the one tied down.

It is indeed a cave, dug from the earth, lit with deep yellow torches along the walls. I’m on a table or something equally uncomfortable, and I’m strapped tight. Every movement I make echoes, like my shadow is mimicking me a moment too late. Experiment proves I can’t pull any of these stupid fucking human limbs free, and I cry out in frustration. “Fuck!”

“You didn’t say please,” comes a crisp (English, my weird memory asserts) voice.

I look. There is Arthur Lester, backlit by torchlight. He stands by the wall, before a table piled with indeterminate tools, arms crossed, hood back, studying me out of arm’s reach.

Which doesn’t matter, because my arms aren’t doing anything. “How dare you!”

“I’d heard the King in Yellow met an unpleasant end today,” said Arthur Lester, not moving, not bowing, not doing anything he should for one who knows so much. “The aetheric resonance has sent the Dreamlands into chaos. The vacuum is unbelievable. I was just debating going to sleep for a thousand years or so until it blows over… and here you are, claiming to be him, and pitiful about it.”

“Pitiful!” I’ll tear his face off. In fact, he should know. “I’ll tear your face off!”

“No, I don’t think you will,” he says, and comes over.

I snarl with everything in me and struggle against the ropes.

Calm down, my King. If you convince him you’ll work with him, he’s more likely to let his guard down.

But he’s trapped me! Tied me! How dare he! “I am a god!” I snarl at him.

“A god who needs a shave and some water,” says Arthur Lester, leaning over me. This close, he has a face I can’t quite understand; he’s young and old at the same time, face lined, but somehow appealing in spite of that. The solid blue-gray of his eyes is incredible. He looks like a man not to fuck with, like someone who would wear that exact same expression if he slit my human throat… but under all that cold-hearted self, there is something beautiful.

This man has power. Everything I hoped for is confirmed.

Don’t jump to conclusions, says the voice.

Shut up. “What do you plan to do?”

“Well. Mostly, figure you out,” Arthur says. “You’re not human, in spite of the flesh you wear, but you can’t possibly be a Great Old One, either. For one thing, my attack wouldn’t have landed.”

“Then why did you do it?” I say, because that makes the action illogical.

“Because you fucking scared me,” he says without a trace of arrogance, and touches my chin to tilt my head back and forth. “Where did you get this body?”

“I don’t know.” He can see that? “How do you know it isn’t mine? It’s mine now!” I add, in case of larcenous ideas.

He smirks and touches my desert-dry lips.

That hurt! My lip is split. It’s sharp and surprising; I cry out, and I taste blood.

“Because you fit into it like a grown man into a suit meant for a child,” he says, and walks over to his table with my blood on his fingers. “You’re spilling out all over. It’s a miracle the damn thing hasn’t burst open like some kind of horrible flower.” He fucks around over there, clinking glass, then returns with a glass of water.

I stare at the water. Lick my split lip (ow). “Oh.” Don’t like that. “That sounds ugly.”

“It is. Drink.”

My face grows… so hot. So hot, burning. Ugly! I don’t want to be ugly. I’m not ugly! I’ve never been ugly!

Have I?

Never, great one, the voice assures me, and I think it's sincere.

“Calm down,” says Arthur Lester. “You look like a fucking boiled tomato.”

“I’m not ugly,” I tell him.

“The body isn’t. Drink.”

I knew I wasn’t. “No. What is it?”

He sighs. “It’s water. Your body was already dehydrated. Just drink.”

I wouldn’t, says the voice.

Tell me what to do, will you, voice? “Gimme.”

Arthur Lester reaches under my head and lifts, supporting it as he touches the glass to my lips.

So this is drinking! Oh, I like drinking! The water is cold and tastes divine, and my whole body seems to respond with pleasure, demanding, absorbing. I make a happy sound.

“What an odd thing you are,” says Arthur Lester.

I glare at him over the glass (though of course, I keep drinking. My water. Mine.)

“Whatever you are, you’re a mystery,” he says, “and here’s where I have to decide whether it’s wiser to cut my losses and kill you, or take the risk and do some investigation.”

Tread carefully, my King.

I lick my lips. The glass is empty. “I have finished my water,” I say.

“Yeah, you have,” Arthur says, looking amused.

How dare. “You’d be a fool to harm me. I came to you because I need help, and I will trade for it.”

“You informed me in front of two dozen men and at least half a dozen women that I was your slave,” he says dryly.

Will my face ever stop burning? “I… thought that would guarantee your help.”

He stares at me. “Why the fuck would you think that?”

“Why wouldn’t it? Who I am, established. Who you are to me, established. Then I could ask you for what I need, and you’d give it!”

He stares harder. Leans in. “Funny question,” he says. “What’s the first thing you remember?”

I blink. “First thing?”

“Ever. In your life.” His robe brushes my tied wrist, my hand. I’m surprised at how soft it is; it looks rough.

“Uh,” I say.

Don’t tell him the truth!

Well, what else am I supposed to do? “Waking up in the desert.”

“When?”

“Today.”

His eyes go enormous, and I realize that the blue-silver disks have a dark limbal ring, stunning and beautiful. “You’re a fucking baby,” he says.

I growl. “I am no baby,” I inform him, this foolish human wizard who has what I need. “I am older than your sun, older than your seas! I was before this galaxy began its drain-swirl toward entropy and its fucking crunchy end!”

“‘Fucking crunchy end,’” he repeats, absolutely deadpan.

I stare. “It’s going to!”

“I’m aware. I just. Kind of expected that to end a little more poetic, after that beginning.”

I hiss.

“Calm down. I won’t kill you now. I’m too curious. What do you call yourself?”

“I am the King in Yellow!” I pronounce deep in my chest.

“You’re not, though,” he says gently. “You’re objectively not. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say you were… part of him.”

I gasp, but not because of what he said. His words brought it back.

Sharp, tearing, burning, terrifying, painful, searing, torn from self and safety and sanity to some wailing incompleteness, mewling and pitiful and powerful and galactic, leaking and weeping and innocent and cruel.

I tore. I tore away from god. I—

“Whoa. Easy,” says Arthur Lester, his silver-blue eyes so wide, his hands up as though in surrender, or shock. “Easy there. What the fuck did I say?”

“Part of him?” I choke out, and this human voice breaks, and these human eyes leak, and I don’t know what’s happening, except that it’s bad. “I am all that’s left of him.”

“All right,” he says evenly, calmly, clearly trying to work through it. “All right. Okay. This is a lot. Hold on.”

Easy for him to say! “Untie me!” I command.

Arthur Lester gives me a look so dry it could crack my lip again. “No.”

He dares! “I command you!”

“And then you’d what? Attack me?” says he.

I hadn’t considered that. “No. What I want from you must be given freely.”

“And what is that?” he says, eyebrows high.

“Instruction.”

Arthur Lester laughs. “Instruction?”

“Why is that so strange?” I snarl. “Yes! Instruction!”

“For what?” he yells.

“How to live forever!” I yell back.

Arthur Lester sighs. “Okay. Wow. Wow. Hold on.” He turns away. “Wow. Hold on.”

Why is everyone confused by this? “You’re immortal!”

“Some say,” he murmurs, facing the torches.

“And I need to be! What is the problem here?”

He turns. “Where did you wake up?”

I frown. “I don’t know. Far away. It took me hours to come to you. To find you.”

He frowns, too. “How did you find me?”

“I woke with your name in my head, and I could see you like a star on the horizon.”

He stares.

Fool! says the voice.

Fuck you, voice. I’m doing what I have to here.

“That carries all manner of problems,” Arthur Lester says.

“Why?” I demand.

He proceeds to count off his fingers. “One, why the fuck did you know my name when you woke up as a piece of a god? Two, why the fuck did you know where I was as a piece of a god? Three, why the fuck do you think you know what I can offer you as a piece of a god?”

Do humans speak entirely in questions? “I know your name because I know magic, and I know power, and yours is on the wind,” I say.

“The wind,” he repeats, deadpan.

“Yeah.”

A moment passes. “Yellow, what in fuck does that mean?”

“I don’t know! You asked a question and I answered!” Why does it feel bad that he didn’t like my answer? “And don’t call me Yellow! I am H’aaztre, the King in Yellow, the Unspeakable—”

“You’re a piece of him,” says this infuriating man, and his voice is low and rough, and his face is tight. “I’m not going to call you his name. You’re not him. Answer the rest of my questions.”

Why did that hurt, too? I don’t know! I don’t know! “Then what are you going to call me?” I bellow.

“How the fuck should I know? Pick a name! And answer my damn questions!” he bellows back.

Fine! I can answer his questions! “I knew where you were the same way you know where the fucking sun is, okay?” I snap, and I don’t know why I’m feeling ways about all this, but I am. “I feel you!”

He stares. “That’s not good.”

“Yes it is! I found you!” I have to sniffle. My human nose is leaking! What the fuck?

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he says, pulls out a handkerchief, and dabs at my eyes. Then he holds it to my nose. “Blow.”

This brain knows how to do that. So I do.

(At least the voice is silent throughout. This is embarrassing.)

“My third question?” says Arthur. He snaps the handkerchief out with one sharp shake, and suddenly, it’s clean and dry. He tucks it back into his robe.

Why I know what he can offer me. “Because you’re the most powerful. I know you’re the one who can tell me what to do.”

“What to do about… living forever?” he says.

“Yes,” I say.

He stares.

“This is a body I’ve created,” I say. “I made it from pieces. From the cultists who were there, who sacrificed themselves in… whatever took place. I don’t really know what took place. I don’t fully remember. But I put body parts together, and I know it isn’t stable. I can feel it. It’s aging. It’s vulnerable to disease. Something fucking stupid like sunlight can harm it. I need your help.”

He stares harder. “You’re mortal?”

“I have to assume so! I’m in a fucking human body!”

You damn fool.

Oh, shut up. You’re not here, in this situation, dealing with my troubles.

Arthur opens his mouth, exhales so sharply that his cheeks puff like a child’s, and then he turns around and goes to the table behind him.

“Hey!” I say. “I answered you!”

“I need some fortification,” he says, taking up a flask, and proceeds to chug.

[chapter three] [masterpost]

[xxl1zardb3ansxx]

Here you go sillies! More WOF fanfic because I forgor to post some recently!

New day, New Life

Classes started today. Each student got a schedule that was written on a yellowish piece of paper. Star found that she had Biology first. The teacher was a Leafwing that had stayed in Prryiah. 

“Good morning, I am your Biology teacher. Call me Mrs.S if you must. Today we’re starting with photosynthesis basics.” The Leafwing said. 

The classroom was wide and made of complete stone. There were several windows allowing golden rays to pass through into the classroom. Vines hung down from the ceiling, nearly touching the desks. Star could reach up and grasp one of the delicate white and pink flowers. She decided not too, because this teacher sounded like she would get mad if she did. Now normally Star would like Biology. But this teacher made it less fun. She would always yell at other students, she always sounded mad, and never helped any other students.

Next, Star had math. Only basic math so far because many dragons who were poor didn’t know very much about math yet. Although, they played a lot of ice-breaker games instead of math. The teacher was a Sandwing that was very kind. She said her name was Sunny. She was a weird golden color compared to the normal dusty yellow or tan-ish white. Her whole demeanor was just so happy and kind. She was like a little beam of sunshine that escaped from the sun, and was down here instead. There was one dragon in particular though, that kept interrupting her. It was Vermillion. He kept pointing out what was wrong with her appearance.

“Why are you so shiny?” “Why don’t you have a tail barb? Why are your eyes green?”

Eventually, the teacher decided that everyone would benefit from a hunting break outside, thus leaving us outside, where some…unconventional things could happen. Star had caught a mountain lion, and was sitting on a ledge, eating it.

“Hey hybrid!” It was Vermillion’s annoying voice. Star groaned and looked up.

“What?” Star grumbled, staring at his stupid face.

“I can’t come sit with my very best fwend?” Vermillion said, teasingly. 

“Sure, after you stop being the most annoying Skywing in history.” Star said, going back to her food.

“Awwwww, thanks.” Vermillion said, plopping in front of Star. Star groaned. “So, what’s with the little earring you wear? Are you trying to look dumb?”

“At least I look better than you do.” Star said, feeling her earring.

“Yeah, right. Anyway, why do you have it?” Vermillion siad, poking a claw at her.

“Reasons.” She said, flicking the little thing back and forth.

“Oh, sOoOo convincing. What’s the rea; reason? Hybrid?” Vermillion persisted.

“You don’t need to know.” Star said.

“Tell me, or I will personally hurt you.” Vermillion said, trying to be threatening.

“Try,” Star said, brandishing her poisonous barb. 

“Oh I’ll-”

“Go away, Vermillion.” Said Blizzard’s familiar voice.

“Ugh, not you again.” Vermillion siad..

“Go away,” Blizzard repeated.

“Fine.” Vermillion said, sighing and flying off.

“Hey.” Blizzard said, smiling at Star.

“Hi.” Star said, feeling her face get warm with blush.

“I know this is a little bit of a  weird ask but could we share that mountain lion? I haven’t been able to catch anything here.” Blizzard said, 

“Yeah of course!” Star responded. Blizzard floated down and sat next to her, and they shared the lion happily. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of Star’s day wasn’t very interesting. She had English, science, Art, Creative Writing, and then a rest period before lights out. Star was sitting and sketching on her ledge, minding her business, when of course, Vermillion had to come in.

“Oh hey, hybrid.” Vermillion's voice said. But it was…more unhappy than usual. Star tried to ignore him, and continued sketching Blizzard. (again) Vermillion climbed up to his bed and proceeded to sigh dramatically every few minutes. Finally, after realizing that it doesn;t work on literally anyone, he spoke up. “Do you know why I hate you, hybrid?”

“Don’t care.” Star said.

“Because,” Vermillion continued. “YOU got me in trouble today, and I have a 5 hour detention tomorrow.” 

“Good for you.” Star said, sarcastically. 

“You don;t care at all about me do you?” Vermillion said, obviously trying to get Star to be sorry.

“Nope.” Star said, finishing her sketch.

“Ugh, you’re so mean!” Vermillion said, flopping down on his bed again. 

“I’m so sure,” Star responded, slamming her sketchbook shut. 

“Hey guys,” Blizzard said, entering the room. She had little splatters of paint on her talons, decorating her claws with colors.

“Oh, hi Blizzard.” Star said, smiling. Blizzard climbed onto her ledge and smiled back. 

“So what are your guys' schedules?” Blizzard asked.

“Biology, Math, English, Science, Art, and Creative writing.” Star said, counting the classes on her talons.

“I’ve got Biology, Math, Science, English, Art, and then competitive flying.” Vermillion said.

“I have English, Math, Art, Science, and sculpting.” Blizzard said.

“Cool. To be honest, I don’t really like Ms. S. She’s mean.” Star chimed in.

“Yeah. She never helps anyone with assignments or anything. Or at least from what I saw today. She gave us so much homework. Speaking of which I should do.” Blizzard said, reaching into her bag and pulling out some papers. Star did the same, and got out her favorite pencil. It was purple with little stars painted on it. The homework was mostly about how plants make sugars for food and stuff and was relatively easy for Star. She couldn’t say the same for Vermillion though. He was chewing his pencil and staring at the page, clearly confused.Just then, Ant walked in, panting. Star looked up at him.

“Hey. You good? You’re panting.” Star said.

“Th-There’s a f-fight. You gotta come see it.” Ant gasped in between breaths. Star and Blizzard looked at each other, and nodded. They both hopped down from their ledges and followed Ant to the prey center. An orange Skywing and a teal Seawing were wrestling on the ground, throwing punches and clawing at each other. The Skywing had a fresh scar across his snout, and the Seawing had one on his underbelly. They were yelling at each other, insults and all. Several other dragons were chanting, ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ and pumping their fists. No teachers were here yet, but Star assumed there would be soon. 

“You’re just a wetnose! You can’t even breathe fire!” The Skywing shouted, throwing the Seawing off him and getting up.

“Well you’re just a stupid pebble brain! You couldn't even answer one problem in Math class!” The Seawing returned, pointing his claw at the Skywing. The Skywing blasted fire at the Seawing in response, but he ducked and rolled just in time. The crowd behind him backed up and woahed. The Seawing ran around the Skywing in wapped him with his powerful tail. It was enough to bring the Skywing down. The crowd cheered at every strike they made at each other, encouraging the two dragons' rage. Star watched but didn’t say anything. Other dragon’s minds were roaring with thoughts. ‘I hope the Seawing wins!’ ‘Go Silo!’ ‘Beat his A$$!’  Star tried to quiet them, but their thoughts were too loud. The raindrop trick only muffled them a bit.  The Skywing sent another blast of fire and got the Seawing’s leg this time. He howled in pain and toppled over. A person in the crowd shrieked and ran into view. It was a dark blue Seawing and she had several necklaces adorning her neck. She crouched down next to the Seawing and helped him up. 

“Are you okay? Can you hear me? Wave? Wave!” The other Seawing said, growing more and more panicked. Wave didn’t respond, and only groaned in pain. Just then the Math teacher, Sunny burst through the doors and ran up to Wave.

“What happened?!” She asked, also sounding panicked. 

“He got in a fight with Silo, the Skywing over there. He’s burned! He needs to get to the nurses office!” The dark blue Seawing explained. Sunny took Wave’s other arm and they carried him out of the room. A few minutes later, another dark blue Seawing entered the room. That was the Vice principal, Tsunami. She did not look happy. Silo the Skywing was laughing with his friends about kicking the Wave’s A$$ when Tsunami placed her talon on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, are you Silo?” Tsunami asked, sounding cold.

“Heh, yeah….” He trailed off when he saw Tsunami’s disapproving face.

“Then you should know what happens next.” Tsunami said, grabbing his ear and leading him into the hallway. All the dragons in there were silent as they heard Silo’s yelling in pain from Tsunami’s tight grip. Their heads were silent. Everyone was silent. They all glanced at each other for a moment before slowly and awkwardly returning to what they were doing before. Star and Blizzard looked at each other and Blizzard started laughing. Star started laughing too, replaying Silo’s distressed expression when he saw Tsunami. They both walked over to the little river that gurgled next to the wall. Star and Blizzard laid in front of the little river, and Star dipped her tail in the cool water. The two of them laughed about many things for the rest of the rest period. Eventually they went off to bed and dreamed of what adventures could come next in their new lives.

[mitsuki-komori]

if your still taking bakery requests yunosa vanilla cake muffin brownie and tart with fruit maybe some injuries please? thanks :)

I do believe this is the right ask… They’re all anonymous so it’s hard to know which is which. I’m sorry about the wait and I hope you enjoy. I’m also sorry about the length

Mimosa sat up against a rock, breathing in and out. Keep her breathing in check. It was kind of hard to do that with the loud noises of battle coming from not that far away. To make matters worse, she was completely drained of mana which meant no recovery magic…

She moved to sit up more, but that just caused her to groan in pain. More and more blood left her body through the deep wound in her stomach… She had been using her cape to keep pressure on it, but she could only feel herself getting weaker and weaker… Mimosa was lucky she managed to get away from the enemy, of course, that was because Asta and Noelle showed up and told her to get away. She told them she’d be fine, but… It’s a lot worse than she thought… The singular thought that kept circling through her mind was, ‘If I don’t get help, I’m going to die.’

She didn’t want that at all. Of course she knew what she was getting into when joining the knights, but that didn’t change the fact that she was scared of dying. Especially at such a young age… She’s going to be 20 in a few weeks… She can’t die yet… 

It seems that the sounds of battle had faded quite a bit though, so that was good… “Mimosa!” She heard a voice yell. Yuno and Klaus came into vision, their eyes widened. “Oh god… You’re bleeding…” Yuno muttered.

“I’ll go get help!” Klaus told them before running off. Yuno ran to Mimosa’s side.

“Mimosa, how bad is it?” Yuno asked as he took off his own cape, and pressed it against Mimosa’s wound as her cape had already been soaked.

“It’s pretty deep… and I’m out of mana too… I won’t die though… I just won’t…!” She said before coughing. 

“Try not to talk too much… Keep taking those deep breaths…” Yuno wavered out, Mimosa giggled. “Huh? What are you laughing at?”

“I just think it’s funny how you’re telling a recovery mage what to do in this situation.” Mimosa explained.

“Huh? I just… I’m worried, that’s all…” He stuttered. Mimosa smiled.

“It’s fine to worry about me, Yuno. It’s not like I’d get offended like Asta would! Plus, your words are kind of helping with the pain in a weird way…” She explained, Yuno’s cheeks turned pink.

“How is that?” He questioned, Mimosa thought for a moment.

“I guess… Your aura is just really comforting and soothing. I feel better when I’m around you, I guess you’re helping me stay calm and distracted is what I’m basically saying…” Her eyes looked the other way.

“Oh… I see.” He paused for a moment. “I’m glad.”

Mimosa jerked her head over to Yuno. “Thank you for staying with me, Yuno.”

“Of course.”

Soon after, Klaus showed back up with two recovery mages and a Finral. Yes, Mimosa would be just fine.

And she was, Yuno was very glad.