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jungkoode · 2 days ago

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死 KKANGPAE | #03 死

† breakfast and training †

"His eyes are the kind of dark that makes you forget there was ever light in the world. And you hate that you're starting to notice details about him."

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⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 5.4k

rating: mature

content: training violence, weapons, strong language, sexual tension

☠ author's note ☠

HELLO MY FELLOW SLEEP-DEPRIVED CREATURES. Welcome back to another episode of "Kiki makes questionable life choices and writes fanfiction instead of sleeping"!

Can we talk about how I wrote like three different versions of the gun scene before my perfectionist brain was satisfied? And by satisfied I mean "fine whatever just post it I guess." Don't @ me about gun accuracy, I play Call of Duty sometimes that's research enough (ㆆᴗㆆ)

Also yes, I am absolutely living for the whole "oh no they're training together" trope. Sue me. Or don't, I'm broke. All I have is caffeine and the ability to make my characters suffer. Speaking of which - Jeon in combat mode? chef's kiss My boy is out there being all professional and grumpy while Y/N is just trying her best not to get shot. We love that for them.

PSA: The whole "Cookie" thing was totally self-indulgent and I regret nothing. V is here to cause chaos and honestly? Goals.

Special shoutout to my cat who watched me write this at 3 AM and judged me silently. You're the best beta reader a girl could ask for, even if your only feedback is knocking my coffee over.

See you next Tuesday, you beautiful disasters! Remember: sleep is for the weak and fanfiction is for life.

crawls back into writing cave while mainlining espresso

Kiki

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Mornings in the castle hit different. Through your window, the sky's doing that thing where it can't decide if it's still night or already dawn—all soft blues mixing with hints of gold. Everything's quiet, like the world's holding its breath.

Then your alarm goes off.

"Why did we agree to this again?" Yunjin whines from her bed, fumbling to shut up the annoying buzz. Her pink hair is a mess, splayed across her pillow like cotton candy gone wrong.

"Croissants," you remind her, stretching until your joints pop. "Fresh, buttery, heavenly croissants."

"Not hungry." She burrows deeper into her blanket cocoon. "Too early for hunger. Too early for existing."

You swing your legs off the bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor. "What happened to yesterday's 'new me, new goals' speech?"

"That was yesterday's Yunjin. Today's Yunjin chooses sleep."

With a snort, you pad over to her bed. It's literally two steps away—your shared room is cozy like that, with just enough space for two singles and matching bedside tables. You give her shoulder a gentle shake.

"And what's tomorrow's Yunjin gonna think about that?"

"Tomorrow's Yunjin's problem," she mumbles, death-gripping her blanket. Smart girl. She knows your next move would've been stealing it.

"Then it's tomorrow's me problem too!" You can't help but laugh, and it finally gets her to peek one eye open.

She lets out the longest, most dramatic sigh. "Fine. Fine. You win."

Your shared laughter is soft, comfortable. It's weird how quickly Yunjin became your person here. Maybe because she's as new to this as you are—no pressure to measure up to badasses like Chaewon or keep your guard up around intimidating figures like V and Jeon.

She joined two months before you did. For her, it meant saying goodbye to having her own room, but she says it was worth the trade-off. Girl's a mess when it comes to sleep schedules, but she keeps your shared space spotless and her determination is s̶c̶a̶r̶y̶ impressive. Like, you've seen her practice seduction techniques until 3 AM, and now here she is, dragging herself up at dawn for... well, croissants and self-improvement.

There's something genuinely good about Yunjin. She's always there—to help, to listen, to just be. Five months in and everyone in Seduction already adores her. Yeah, she's clumsy as hell during physical training, but her mind is sharp. Nothing gets past her—it's like she's got a built-in lie detector.

After yesterday morning's... incident, you're extra grateful for her company.

You both grab your digital cards from your bedside tables—can't go anywhere in this place without them. They're basically your whole identity here, determining which doors open for you and which stay firmly shut.

The castle corridors feel endless this early. Most members are probably still sleeping or doing whatever gang members do at dawn. Your footsteps echo softly as you and Yunjin make your way to the cafeteria, keeping the conversation light.

"Have you had breakfast here before?" you ask, watching her stifle another yawn.

"Once." She nods, her pink ponytail bouncing. "Got up at 10 though. Wasn't worth sacrificing sleep for."

You can't help but smile. "Early breakfast hits different. You'll see."

When you reach the cafeteria, Yunjin taps her digital card against the scanner. The light blinks green, and suddenly your nose is filled with the heavenly smell of fresh pastries. Inside, only a handful of early birds are scattered around the massive space. Makes sense—most people here prefer their beds at this hour.

Your eyes do their usual sweep of the room, casual and practiced. But then something pulls at you, like a magnet finding true north. Your gaze locks with dark, piercing ones.

Jeon.

"Oh, that's Jeon, right?" Yunjin's voice cuts through your thoughts. "Guess he likes mornings too."

You nod, still watching him from the safety of the doorway. Something about the distance makes you feel almost safe. He's got that thing about him—that unmistakable aura of authority that even 6 AM can't dim.

"Damn," Yunjin says after a beat, blunt as ever. "He's hot."

"Let's get food," you mutter, rolling your eyes and heading for the pastry section.

You and Yunjin load up your plates with a bit of everything, especially those famous croissants. Finding a quiet corner, you settle in to enjoy both the food and each other's company, pointedly not thinking about piercing dark eyes or brooding corners.

You try to look casual as your eyes drift back to Jeon for the hundredth time.

He's sitting there, both hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee like it's his lifeline to sanity this early in the morning. The sight of those tattooed fingers curled around plain white ceramic does something to your brain that you'd rather not examine too closely.

"You know, I heard something interesting about him." Yunjin's voice makes you jump. S̶h̶i̶t̶ Great, she caught you staring.

"Oh?" You tilt your head, hoping your voice sounds more curious than guilty.

Yunjin leans in conspiratorially, her pink hair falling forward as she drops her voice to barely above a whisper. It's kind of unnecessary given how far away Jeon is, but there's something about him that makes everyone speak in hushed tones.

"Apparently, he's got this whole... ritual thing going on. Every single morning, without fail, he makes sure he's the first one to get fresh coffee. Like, the first cup from a fresh pot."

Your eyes track back to that cup held between ink-covered fingers. Now that she mentions it, you've never seen him drink anything else in the mornings. The way he's savoring it, eyes closed and expression almost peaceful, makes you think Yunjin might be onto something.

"Every day? He's literally the first one here?" The mental image of Jeon lurking outside the cafeteria doors, waiting for them to unlock, is both hilarious and weirdly endearing.

"From what I've heard. Maybe it's a power move?" Yunjin suggests with a soft laugh. "You know, asserting dominance through caffeine consumption."

The idea of someone as intimidating as Jeon—co-leader of the Assassination Division, member of the Council of 9, literal professional killer—climbing the ranks of one of South Korea's most dangerous gangs just to secure his morning coffee makes something bubble up in your chest.. You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing too loud.

"Imagine that being his master plan all along," you snort. "Join gang, become assassination chief, get first dibs on coffee."

You both dissolve into quiet giggles, but the moment shatters when something shifts in the air. It's like thorny vines suddenly wrapping around your lungs, making it hard to breathe. You don't need to look to know who it is.

"Mind if I join the fun?" V's voice slides over your skin like honey laced with poison, playful but with that edge that makes your hair stand on end.

His arms drape over your shoulders without warning, caging you and Yunjin in what should be a friendly gesture but feels more like being trapped. Your muscles tense automatically. There's something about V that keeps you perpetually on edge—like admiring a rose only to remember it's got thorns that could draw blood.

Yunjin manages a wobbly smile, but you can tell she's as unsettled as you are by his sudden appearance. "We were just... talking about coffee."

"Coffee?" V drawls the word like it personally offends him. He pulls back, throwing his arms behind his head in that carelessly graceful way of his, but stays close enough that you can smell cinnamon. "Boring. Now, this new training program? That's something worth discussing."

His eyes glint with mischief, reminding you of a cat playing with its food. "I'm keen to see what you girls bring to the table. Should be... intriguing, don't you think?"

The way he says it makes your skin crawl. There's nothing overtly threatening about his words, but the undercurrent is clear—the Assassination Division isn't known for playing nice, and V seems to view the upcoming cross-training as his personal playground.

"I'm sure it will be enlightening," you say carefully.

V's energy is infectious, but not in a good way. More like a disease you're trying not to catch.

He chuckles, and those thorny vines around your lungs squeeze tighter. "Oh, I'm sure it will be. And don't worry, yours truly will be there to add a little spice to the mix. Can't let things get too dull, can we?"

Before you can respond, his attention snaps to something—or someone—across the cafeteria. With a dismissive wave that somehow manages to feel both elegant and insulting, he strides off as suddenly as he appeared.

You exchange looks with Yunjin, both of you sagging with relief once he's gone. She looks as drained as you feel, like V's presence alone sucked all the energy from the room.

"Well, that was... something," Yunjin says, and you could write a whole essay about everything packed into that single word. Her pink hair is still slightly disheveled from where V's dramatic entrance messed it up.

"That's one way to put it." You try to shake off the phantom feeling of thorny vines around your lungs. V's presence leaves you feeling like you've been through some kind of emotional washing machine—tumbled around and wrung out.

"But oh my god." Yunjin's whole face suddenly lights up like she's remembered something amazing. The whiplash from her mood shift almost gives you vertigo.

"What?" You ask, though part of you already knows where this is going. Yunjin might be shy and perceptive, but she's also a total simp when it comes to pretty faces.

"He is SO handsome?" Her voice rises with genuine awe. "Everyone kept saying he looks like a prince, but I thought they were exaggerating. They were not."

You raise an eyebrow, wondering if you were even in the same conversation just now. Sure, V's gorgeous—that's kind of his whole thing. The dangerous beauty, the dripping poison. But after feeling his aura wrap around you like a boa constrictor, 'handsome' isn't exactly the first word that comes to mind.

"Did you miss the whole creepy vibe?" You keep your voice low, even though V's long gone. Some habits die hard in this place. "He talked about the training program like he's planning to turn it into his personal episode of Squid Game. With popcorn."

"Yeah, but like..." Yunjin waves her hand dismissively, "have you seen his face? Those cheekbones? That jawline?"

"The way he's probably plotting our deaths as we speak?" You counter, but you can't help the smile tugging at your lips. Trust Yunjin to focus on the aesthetics while completely ignoring the red flags. It's kind of adorable, in a concerning way.

"Doesn't change the fact that he's eye candy," she says with zero shame, stabbing her fork into her breakfast. "Like, premium, expensive, imported chocolate level of eye candy."

"True," you admit, finally taking a proper bite of your croissant.

And it is true—V's got that whole ethereal beauty thing going on, like a masterpiece painting that happens to be slightly cursed. The kind of face that belongs in museums but also probably comes alive at night to terrorize security guards.

But even as you acknowledge V's obvious appeal, your eyes betray you, drifting back to that other corner of the cafeteria. Back to dark eyes and hurricanes.

Back to Jeon.

It's not like you mean to look.

It just... happens.

Like your gaze has some kind of magnetic programming that keeps pulling it in his direction.

Which is s̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶ inconvenient because the last thing you need is to get caught staring at one of the most dangerous men in Kkangpae while you've got croissant crumbs on your face.

The rest of your morning slips by without V popping up again to make your skin crawl. You try to focus on getting ready for what's coming, but your mind keeps drifting to the upcoming training.

Working with Jeon and V's division? Yeah, that's not anxiety-inducing at all.

When you step onto the training field outside the castle, the change of scenery hits different. After being cooped up in the gang's concrete maze, the open space and towering trees feel almost surreal. The cold morning air bites at your lungs—a wake-up call you didn't ask for but probably need.

Today's not just another training day. It's your first cross-training with the Assassination Division, and the tension in the air is so thick you could cut it with one of V's knives.

Your stomach does this weird flip-flop thing as you walk towards the gathering crowd. Working with Jeon after... that incident? Not exactly on your bucket list. The memory of your last encounter sits heavy in your chest, making each step feel like you're walking through mud.

The Assassination Division is already there when you arrive, looking like they stepped out of some action movie poster. Some look ready to murder, others look ready for a nap. But it's Jeon who catches your eye—impossible not to, really. It's like the air itself is swirling around him like a storm about to break.

He's got that look on his face—you know the one. All business, no bullshit, could probably kill you with his pinky finger.

No sign of V though.

Makes sense, when you think about it. Those two aren't exactly besties—more like two wolves forced to share the same territory. Their whole approach to killing is different as night and day.

Jeon's all about precision. Clean shots, minimal mess, maximum efficiency. He's the type to plan every detail, calculate every variable. Need someone taken out from two buildings away without anyone even knowing what happened? That's his specialty. The human equivalent of a surgical strike.

V though? He's chaos incarnate. Gets up close and personal with his kills, leaves a message written in blood if he feels like it. He's the guy you call when you want someone dead and don't care how messy it gets. Planning? Fuck planning—V works on pure instinct and improvisation.

The crowd goes quiet as Jeon steps forward. The atmosphere shifts, less like a raging storm now and more like the heavy air before thunder breaks. When he speaks, his voice does that thing where it demands attention without actually raising in volume. And despite everything—despite knowing better—you find yourself leaning in slightly to catch every word.

"Your state of mind is everything in this line of work," he says, dark eyes scanning the crowd like he's reading everyone's potential in real time. "A calm, collected mind can mean the difference between life and death."

The task he lays out seems simple enough: shoot the cardboard target, hit the center, don't mess it up. But as you watch others take their turns, that knot in your stomach keeps getting tighter.

The gun feels wrong in your hand. Not that you haven't held one before—basic training covers that—but this is different. This is him watching, and somehow that makes your palms extra sweaty.

Then your turn's up.

Walking to the mark feels like crossing a minefield, every step measured and tense. Your heart's going so hard you can barely hear anything else.

Focus. You need to focus.

But Jeon's standing right there, making the air thick and hard to breathe. Your finger hovers over the trigger, but doubt creeps in like poison.

The target blurs in and out. You can feel Jeon watching, that heavy gaze picking apart every flaw in your stance. The pressure builds in your chest until you're sure something's gonna snap.

Just a bit longer. You need to be absolutely sure before taking the shot.

It's not like Seduction gets much practice with actual weapons—your arsenal usually involves batting eyelashes and strategic flirting, not bullets and gunpowder. So it's no wonder the gun starts slipping through your sweaty fingers.

You tighten your grip. A surge of determination hits you like a shot of adrenaline. Come on. It's just cardboard. You've handled way worse situations than this. You can do this.

Your finger starts to squeeze the trigger—

BANG.

That... wasn't your gun.

You flinch, turning toward the sound before you can stop yourself. Through the corner of your eye, you catch smoke curling from Jeon's pistol.

He's standing there looking bored, arm extended like this is just another one of his daily mornings. The gun fits his hand like it was molded for him, an extension of his body rather than a weapon.

When your eyes snap to the target, there it is—perfect shot, dead center, because of course it is.

A̶s̶s̶h̶o̶l̶e̶ Show-off.

You lower your gun, lips pressed tight. His gaze sits heavy on your shoulders, hurricane pressure bearing down until you want to scream. His face gives nothing away, but those dark eyes say plenty—and none of it's good.

"If you're not quick enough, you'll get killed." His voice cuts like ice. "Let that be a reminder for everyone else."

The words hit like a slap. Heat rushes to your face—anger, embarrassment, frustration, all mixing together into something that makes you want to either punch something or crawl into a hole. Preferably punch him, but you're very aware of everyone watching this little show he's putting on.

Both divisions are staring, and you've never felt more like a fish in a very small, very exposed bowl.

Your eyes meet Jeon's, and suddenly breathing gets hard. His stare hits different—those dark eyes boring into yours like he's trying to read your soul, pupils blown wide in a way that makes your stomach do weird flips.

That silver lip ring catches the light when his mouth twists into something s̶e̶x̶y̶ condescending. He opens his mouth—probably to tear into you some more—but then—

BANG.

Everyone drops like puppets with cut strings. Pure instinct.

It's instant chaos. Voices rise into a crescendo of shouts and commands, bodies moving with practiced urgency.

It's kind of beautiful, in a messed-up way—how quickly personal beef gets shelved when shit hits the fan. One minute Jeon's looking at you like you're dirt on his boot, next second he's barking orders to keep everyone safe.

Your heart's in your throat as you scan the crowd for a flash of pink hair.

Yunjin.

But Yunjin's nowhere.

The sea of faces blurs together—no Kazuha, no Eunchae, not even Sakura. Even Chaewon's vanished, which is weird because she's usually got this sixth sense about danger.

Another shot cracks through the air. Your fingers tighten around your gun until your knuckles go white. Your eyes keep drifting to the treeline, where shadows dance between patches of dark green.

A calm, collected mind can mean the difference between life and death.

His words echo in your head, which is ironic considering how not calm you feel right now.

Fuck it.

You're moving before you can second-guess yourself, legs carrying you toward the forest. Maybe it's stupid, but you need space to think. To be calm, like he said.

Plus, the trees might give you cover—an advantage you desperately need right now.

The forest swallows you up. Sunlight filters through leaves overhead, painting everything in shifting patterns of light and shadow. Every step crunches on dead leaves, making you wince. So much for stealth.

V wouldn't be happy.

The chaos from the training ground fades the deeper you go, replaced by normal forest sounds—birds chattering overhead, small animals rustling in the bushes. It's almost peaceful, if you ignore the whole possible death situation.

You spot it then—a ridge overlooking the training ground, hidden behind thick bushes. Perfect vantage point, if you can reach it. The climb makes your muscles burn, but you manage. Up here, you force yourself to breathe slow and steady, trying to quiet your racing heart. Your fingers trace the gun's cold metal like a lifeline.

Your back hits the tree with a thud. The bark scrapes against your spine through your shirt, but you barely notice. Every nerve in your body is focused on that rustling sound behind you.

Footsteps.

Your breath catches. They're quiet—too quiet to be some random person stumbling through the woods.

No, these are the steps of someone who knows how to move silently. Someone trained.

Adrenaline floods your system as you press yourself flatter against the tree. Your fingers tighten around the gun until your knuckles go white. Through a gap in the leaves, you try to catch a glimpse of whoever's approaching, but the foliage is too thick.

Friend or foe?

The question pounds in your head with each careful footstep drawing closer. Your mind races, too many possibilities—it could be an enemy, could be another member searching the area.

Could be death or salvation walking your way.

The steps are almost upon you now. Your breathing goes shallow, controlled. You might be exposed up here, but they don't know that. Surprise is your only advantage right now.

Shoot or strike?

The dilemma tears at you. A gunshot would alert everyone to your location. And if it turns out to be an ally... F̶u̶c̶k̶ No. Hand-to-hand is safer. Quieter. Less explaining to do if you're wrong.

Your muscles coil tight as a spring. When the footsteps are close enough, you launch yourself from behind the tree in one fluid motion, aiming to take them down hard and fast.

Instead, you slam into what feels like a brick wall.

Oh.

It's Jeon.

His reflexes are insane—before you can even process who he is, he's already moving. The air sweeps around you as he twists, disarming you with embarrassing ease. Your gun hits the ground with a clatter that seems to echo through the whole forest.

Recognition hits you both at the same moment. That flicker of shock in his eyes quickly turns to his usual look of disdain, because of course it does.

Then—a misstep.

Your ankle rolls, sending white-hot pain shooting up your leg. You stumble, sucking in a sharp breath. His grip on you loosens just slightly, and something that might be concern flashes across his face before his usual cold mask slips back into place.

"You okay?" His voice is gruff, like the words are being dragged out of him against his will.

"Just perfect," you snap back, because fuck his concern when your ankle feels like it's on fire and your pride hurts even worse.

He just stands there, staring at you with those dark eyes that see too much.

"What the hell were you thinking?" A pause, one eyebrow lifting. "You have a gun, don't you?"

You almost laugh. Because of course. If you'd shot at him, he'd be lecturing you about trigger discipline. Attack hand-to-hand, and suddenly you're an idiot for not using your weapon.

You seriously can't win with this man.

"Well, good thing I didn't use it on you then." The words come out lighter than you feel, dancing between playful and pissed. "And what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be back there playing commander?"

"That's what deputies are for." The casual way he says it makes your teeth grind. "Besides, I dispatched a team to check the gunfire. Just my luck, running into you instead."

"Pleasure's all mine, chief." You load the title with all the sarcasm you can muster.

"And you?" His dark eyes study you like you're a particularly puzzling target he can't quite line up. "Any reason you're out here instead of following orders?"

"Didn't get any orders to follow." You cross your arms, ignoring how his presence makes your skin prickle. "And that ridge over there?" You jab a finger toward the overlook. "Perfect vantage point. I was trying to be strategic before you showed up."

He actually grimaces at that, like your logic physically pains him. But before he can open his mouth to deliver what's surely another lecture, you add:

"Just my luck, running into you instead."

The words—his own words turned back on him—hit their mark. His eyebrow twitches just slightly, and satisfaction blooms warm in your chest.

Score one for you.

But before you can inwardly celebrate, he grimaces. He actually grimaces before he opens his stupid mouth again.

"That?" His voice drips with condescension. "You think that's prime real estate for observation?" The asshole holds back a laughter. "Alright." He says, and you ponder the merits of hitting him with a rock.

But then he begins walking, and you trail after him, partly because s̶c̶r̶e̶w̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ he's wrong and partly because... well, where else are you gonna go?

"Remind me again—which one of us specializes in persuasion and observation?" You can't keep the annoyance from your voice. His arrogance is starting to give you a headache.

"And which one of us is known for sniping?" He tilts his head just enough for you to catch the silver flash of his eyebrow piercing. "You think I don't know a thing or two about picking vantage points?"

"Just because you can shoot from far away doesn't mean you know the best places to shoot from." The words come out sharper than intended. "What works for a sniper might not work for surveillance. They're different skill sets."

"How so?" He doesn't even bother looking back now. "A lookout's a lookout, smartass."

Your hands find your hips. "You know what? Ask me that again when you sit in on our cross-training. Might learn something useful."

"Learn from an ensign?" His tilt is mocking. "No—learn from you?" He lets out a low chuckle that makes your teeth grind. "Pretty sure it works the other way around."

"Forgot about Flower?" You can't help the snark in your voice. "She's a chief too, and I'm sure she'd love to put you in your place."

The exhale he lets out is so exaggerated it has to be for dramatic effect. "You're insufferable."

"Feeling's mutual, chief."

You trail behind Jeon through the darkness, trying to ignore how his mere presence makes the night air feel electric against your skin. The silence wraps around you both, broken only by your footsteps until—

A rustle in the underbrush.

Before you can react, his hand clamps around your wrist. No warning, no words—just the firm press of tattooed fingers against your pulse point as he yanks you behind a massive rock. You crash against him, bodies colliding in a mess of limbs and s̶h̶i̶t̶ startled breath.

You open your mouth to tell him exactly what you think about being manhandled, but his finger presses against his lips. Shut up. His eyes scan the darkness beyond your hiding spot, focused and lethal.

And suddenly you're way too aware of him.

The moonlight paints him in silver and shadow, highlighting things you've never noticed before. Like how his eyebrow piercing catches the light—two tiny beads of silver that draw attention to the way his brow furrows in concentration. Or how that lip ring glints when his mouth sets in that stern line you know too well.

There's a scar on his left cheek—barely there, really. Just a whisper of a mark that makes you wonder what story it tells. Your eyes drift lower, catching on the small mole decorating the left side of his neck. It's such a delicate detail on someone who radiates danger, like finding a flower growing through concrete.

But it's his eyes that f̶u̶c̶k̶ y̶o̶u̶ u̶p̶ catch you off guard. Dark and deep, framed by stupidly long lashes that flutter when he blinks. They're beautiful in a way that makes your chest tight—and isn't that just f̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ fantastic? You didn't need to know that about him.

This close, you can see the tiny lines at the corners of those eyes. They speak of sleepless nights and heavy choices, of burdens carried too long alone. Watching him like this—he feels different now, less like a storm trying to drown you and more like standing in summer rain.

The realization hits like a punch to the gut: you're seeing Jeon. Not the cold-as-ice division chief or the intimidating Council member. Just... him. Human.

Complex.

His fingers are still wrapped around your wrist like an iron band. If anything, his grip's gotten tighter, and you're caught between wanting to yank free and being weirdly aware of how warm his hand is against your skin in the cool night air. It's hard to tell if you're feeling trapped or protected.

The footsteps draw closer—deliberate, confident. Not someone trying to hide.

You watch a muscle tick in Jeon's jaw, the kind of tiny detail you wouldn't normally notice if you weren't pressed so close to him. It's fascinating, in an annoying way, how he can look so calm while radiating such intense energy.

His eyes flick to yours for just a second, but it feels loaded with... something. Like you're suddenly partners in this mess, whether you like it or not. It's more communication than you've had in all your previous conversations combined.

The rustling gets louder. You hold your breath. Jeon's gone statue-still beside you, but you can feel the coiled tension in him. His dark eyes snap to a spot in the trees, then back to you with unnerving intensity.

"Shoot there."

You stare at him like he's lost his mind. "What?"

"There." His voice is barely a whisper, rough with urgency. He jerks his chin toward whatever he's seeing that you're apparently missing.

"You want me to shoot a tree branch?" The skepticism in your whisper could cut glass. "Seriously?"

"Just do what you're told." The words rumble out of him like distant thunder, crackling with impatience.

You give Jeon a look, but arguing isn't an option right now.

The gun feels heavy as you line up the shot. Your finger finds the trigger, and for a split second, everything goes quiet. The bang echoes through the trees, making your ears ring. You watch as the bullet hits exactly where Jeon wanted—that innocent-looking branch that apparently wasn't so innocent after all.

A net explodes from the darkness like some kind of ninja trap, shooting toward the approaching figure. But whoever it is moves like water—fluid, impossible, beautiful in a terrifying way. The net hits empty ground with a sad little flutter while your brain tries to process what just happened.

Beside you, Jeon goes still. If you weren't pressed so close, you might have missed that tiny hitch in his breath—the only sign that this wasn't part of his plan. His eyes narrow just slightly, that crack in his perfect mask making your stomach do weird flips.

He pushes you back against the rock, putting himself between you and whatever's coming. The stone digs into your spine, cold and rough through your clothes.

Then everything happens at once.

A shadow vaults over your hiding spot, moving with deadly grace. Gunshots crack through the night, and suddenly Jeon's shoving you down, his body covering yours. The world spins into a blur of motion and sound, your pulse drumming so loud you can barely think.

When reality settles back into focus, you watch the figure reach for their mask. Your fingers tighten on your gun, waiting to see what kind of threat managed to dodge one of Jeon's traps.

The mask comes off.

Oh for fuck's sake.

V's grinning like the cat that got the cream. "Paintball night!" he announces with way too much glee for someone who just scared the shit out of you.

Relief and irritation war in your chest. Of course it's V. Who else would turn a simple training exercise into their personal dramatic performance?

You watch Jeon's shoulders drop, but the annoyance is written all over his face. His jaw's so tight you can practically hear all the curses he's not saying.

Always the professional, even when he's irritated.

V's eyes dances with delight as he watches Jeon simmer. "Don't look at me like that, Kookie," he coos, lips curling into that signature smirk that makes you want to take a step back.

Cookie?

You blink, trying to process that nickname. Looking at Jeon—all dark clothes, silver piercings, and intimidating tattoos—the last thing that comes to mind is anything remotely cute or sweet. The mental image of him buying cookies from some terrified boy scouts makes you bite back a laugh.

Now that's a story you'd pay to hear.

Jeon's eyebrow shoots up in that way that somehow manages to say f̶u̶c̶k̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ more effectively than actual words. His tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek, jaw working like he's physically holding back whatever he wants to say. He's irritated.

"I'll give you some advantage," V sighs dramatically, thorny vines wrapping around your lungs even from this distance. "No fun beating you when you're unarmed." The words drip with amusement, like this whole thing is his favorite game. "See ya."

With one last unsettling grin, he melts into the darkness. Because of course he does. Dramatic asshole.

You're still sprawled on the ground, processing what just happened. Leave it to V to turn a regular night into some twisted paintball training session. The man's idea of "improving stealth skills" is giving everyone heart attacks.

Beside you, Jeon's muscles finally uncoil from their battle-ready stance. He looms over you, and you can't tell if the expression on his face is more annoyed or relieved.

"You gonna get up or what?" The words come out gruff, but there's something else there. Something that might be concern if you squint.

Then his hand appears in front of your face. You stare at it for a second, surprised. It's weirdly bare compared to his tattooed arms, and you hesitate before taking it. His grip is firm but careful as he helps you up.

The whole night feels surreal —one weird training session bleeding into another. You glance at Jeon as he stretches, working out the tension in his shoulders.

The mystery of "Cookie" tugs at your curiosity, but one look at his face tells you now's not the time to ask.

Some mysteries are probably better left unsolved.

next | index

🔪 taglist 🔪

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @redcherrykook @somehowukook

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aclikeairconditioning · 17 hours ago

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@technically-human @i-am-as-normal-as-you-are, I did it again.

My take on the post-Hell rooftop scene with the reverse verse boys. I think this is as close to fluff as I can get with this au.

Edwin was staring again.

It had become habit at this point. Since Hell. He would stare and Charles would pretend he didn’t notice, because the first few times he acknowledged it Edwin had flushed red and refused to look him in the eye for several hours.

So Edwin was staring at him, curled up on the edge of the roof, and Charles was staring at the sky, leaned back on a ledge, head tipped back so he could admire the stars.

Charles was perfectly content to stay like that, in the silent company of his favorite person.

His eyes had drifted closed by the time Edwin broke the silence.

“Charles?”

He hummed in response, tipping his head slightly towards the other boy.

“You know that I- I mean that you are- Well, I-” He cut himself off with a frustrated noise that was halfway to a growl. Charles opened his eyes, watching Edwin's face pinch in frustration as he struggled to find the words.

He didn’t interrupt. Would wait forever if he had to, if it was important to Edwin.

“I don’t want you to think that I… That I think differently of you now. After what you told me in Hell.”

The words came out slow, deliberate. Charles didn’t know how to respond.

Not that he hadn’t thought about it. To be honest there wasn’t much else he did think of. There was a short time when he thought Edwin would leave him. That this sin, piled on top of all the others, was too much for him.

But Edwin hadn’t left. He’d stayed in Hell for Charles to come back from that death, and then ran by his side until they escaped together.

So Charles wasn’t worried that Edwin thought differently of him now, not anymore.

“I know.”

Once again the roof was enveloped in silence. This time it was Charles’ turn to stare at Edwin as the other boy avoided looking at him.

“You don’t know.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

Edwin swung his legs over the ledge to his feet planted firmly on the ground. He was facing towards him now, a conflicted expression on his face that usually only came out when Charles did something he didn’t like. “I can’t say it. I’m not you, I can’t just-” He started pacing the length of the roof, hand tearing almost violently through his hair. “If I say it, it becomes real, and it can’t be real. But you need to know that it is. That I-”

He cut himself off, and Charles couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t take another minute looking at the broken desperation on Edwin’s face.

Instead, he took the few steps necessary to wrap Edwin up in as tight a hug as he could muster. It wasn’t enough, but at the same time it would have to be.

It took a few seconds, but eventually Edwin’s arms came up around him, squeezing back tightly as he tucked his face into Charles’ neck.

They stayed breathing like that for minutes or hours, until Edwin had stopped shaking.

“I need you to listen to me, mate,” Charles whispered into the modicum of space between them. “I don’t need anything more than what you’re willing to give me. This, what we have going on right now, is just about what I imagine heaven to be like. We’ve got literally forever to figure out what the rest means, and we’ll be doing it together. You and me, yeah?”

“You and me.”

#dead boy detectives #dbda #payneland #fanfic #reverse verse

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lsunstreakerl · 1 day ago

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little 800 word post-kidnapping darkbull snippet. max pov! lowkey- this is not near as bad as the rest. worst warning is probably the concerning objectification, which is a running theme anyways. I would argue it's almost sweet, if not for the way max is now just as clinically insane as the rest of them.

Max stalks upstairs, fingers curling and uncurling into his palms, nails leaving little crescent moons. Daniel and Carlos have been avoiding him.

It's only been a few days but Max can tell, and he's not interested in letting it happen any longer.

He's had the worst month of his life, been put through the psychological wringer, found out his team has been methodically drugging him for years, and also that they killed his dad.

Max wants to get fucked, get a bath, and get cuddles- in that order- and he wants it now.

He wants gold around his wrists, wants a bull laid over the ink on his ribs, wants to know anywhere he goes there are people protecting him.

There's definitely guns in Max's factory flat. He wants to know where.

He doesn't even care if Oscar is here- he'll kick him out if he needs to, doesn't trust him enough yet to let him in, not even after everything.

Besides.

This is about Max, Carlos, and Danny- it's about the way they're guilting themselves, afraid of Max's reaction now that he knows.

Max has been choking down chalky pills for weeks. If Redbull has the decency to at least make them taste good, Max will do them the favor of pretending not to notice.

His new ID beeps against the doorpad, and he swings it open. Max knows Carlos and Danny are still here, because he'd made Christian tell him, right before he said he was done with meetings for the day, and if anyone needed him they could wait until after he'd gotten laid.

No one had given any objection, so Max is coming back a few hours earlier than the team timetable had shown, which means they won't be expecting him.

Sure enough- when the door swings open both of their heads snap up from where they're at the kitchen table, ankles hooked together under the chair.

"Oh shi-"

"Max-"

Max doesn't want to hear it. He lets the door swing shut behind him, toeing off his shoes.

"Hi. I missed you both, but I am wanting to be sappy and upset about it later, instead of right now, because right now I am thinking there's too much clothes and not enough kissing- so if we could go to bed please?"

Daniel's mouth is dropped open, but it's Carlos that recovers first, standing and making his way over to Max, hands settling gentle on his waist.

Max doesn't want gentle.

"Are you sure?"

He frowns at Carlos, feels his eyebrows pushing together.

"Yes, I am sure. If you do not want to that is fine, there are plenty of other people in the factory-"

Bingo. Carlos's fingers grip into his waist, and the pinpricks of pressure are exactly what Max needed, bringing him back down to Earth.

"No. No one else- me and Daniel."

Carlos leans his head down, mouthing at Max's neck, stubble scraping against his skin. Max can feel another set of hands settle on his waist from behind him, slightly overlapping Carlos's fingers.

"You've got us, Maxy. Whatever you want."

Max leans his head back, Carlos leaving little starburst of pleasure across his neck. Daniel is a solid weight at his back.

"I want to get fucked like you have a point to prove."

Max pauses. He needs to make this clear, because he has a feeling he knows what the invisible boundary is here.

"And I told the entire meeting room that I was going to get laid when I left, so I am intending to see that through, thank you. Do not think about what the team has told you, think about what I am telling you."

Both of their hands tighten, and Max can already feel himself relaxing into it. This is what he wanted, the two of them exactly as possessive as he knows they are.

"If Oscar wants to get off he can of course watch the camera feed, but he does not get to be in here yet."

Carlos laughs softly, teeth nipping into Max's shoulder.

"Rookie."

Daniel's breath ghosts hot across the back of Max's neck.

"He took your necklace away. You sure you want us leaving marks? Carlos and I can make you a new one right here- won't let you leave the bed until you're crying for it."

Max shudders, and he can feel Carlos's lips curve into a grin against his skin.

"Who's going to say anything about it? Not the store associates- Christian has paid them all off. You can go shopping with him tomorrow, with our marks all over you- let the associate know exactly what you're there for."

Max wants.

He wants to be so publicly protected that no one questions even for a second who's responsible for him. He knows logically that he is, but- he wants the proof, irrefutable physical evidence.

The Redbull team is a collection of dangerous, powerful people. They would all bend over backwards for Max.

His team.

Max belongs to them.

#darkbull verse #ficlet #congrats we've unlocked unhinged max #good job charles (said in the well done baku voice)

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sos717 · 7 hours ago

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Hey again,

First I want to preface by saying, I am amazed at the response from my last post. I’m so happy to see so many messages that say it helped them understand it better, butttt…

Since the last post had gained allot of attention, so did my inbox lol, and the asks. I’m going to try and go over the main points I saw allot of you guys asking me and hopefully we can move on from there and clear things up.

A really big question I got funny enough was,

“okay I understand but how do I manifest”

lol you guyssss, I’m not gonna bash anyone because I really do understand the drastic change from dropping the reliance we have on the way things APPEAR to be, and swapping it to relying on ourself for trust, but I will say, what I write is what I’ve already lived through, I wouldn’t give anyone this information if it hadn’t worked for me, and that’s means I’ve shown myself the way this all works, HUNDREDS of times, with an insane variety of topics and aspects of my life, so when I say, please please try to READ the content and truly recognize what it means, I mean it in a way that is with complete certainty, because I’m not just telling you a practice that you pick up at one point of life and either get it or don’t get it.

I’m showing you reality

(oooo I’m already getting excited)

So, how can manifestation be explained?

Let’s take a look at all the aspects of experience when we talk about manifestation, because after all, we are here to choose our experience, but this is actually where our first point starts, you are always choosing the experience. Let’s look at this section first.

We all know, whether we come from LOA (Both kinds) or just have the general idea of manifestation/energy, etc, there is always at some point the topic of source.

And what you’ll notice is, every practice, method, technique, ritual, ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS puts YOU as the focal point. Do you truly think this is coincidence? Is it a coincidence that a vision board is something that you look at? Is it a coincidence that affirming or visualizing is something YOU do? Is it a coincidence that scripting, writing a note, whispering in the air, everything you could possibly think of always has to be something you initiate? No absolutely not.

What I just described is incredibly important for you to understand, and yes I will get to the aspect of feelings how to move forward in life while activating new stories and ideas, but when I say I regret not taking the time to truly understand how IT WAS ABOUT ME BEING SOURCE, I really mean it.

We get so caught up in experiencing and needing and feel overwhelmed by the shit everyone has programmed us to believe which always ends up being limiting.

But one thing that is so badly flawed is that there is never and in depth look at what it means to be source.

I mean this should be the main focus of manifestation, the fact that you are source, but because we become so focused on the world, we turn away from the most important aspect of experience. What I’m about to explain actually goes far beyond right now, it goes ALLLLL the way back…

There is only one source, going back to the beginning of the entire universe, can you try to imagine what’s there? You’d probably come up with just a vast nothingness, but at the same time, you’d be able to recognize that there had to have been something to introduce all of experience right?

Well let’s do this together, let’s imagine the moments before the universe was initiated, in this formless, void, yet no dimensions, no description, no sign of anything actually, but definitely something, some type of thing that has to be here, from which reality takes course.

I think you can see where we’re going, all that is there, is this presence, no identity or sign of personality, but absolutely there. This is source. “Wait then how am I source” you might askkkk, well okay let’s find out how you ARE this source.

When I ask “are you aware” and you of course say yes, I need you to go ahead and find out where the answer yes came from. And not just, “it came from me”, yes we know, but find it, trace the idea back to its origin.

Your going to come up with what you can’t describe

The answer of you being aware of your own existence comes from, a formless nondimensional space, it has no identity, it has no name, it has no appearance, no attributes at all, you could almost mistake it for a void, but as you sit there, coming “face to face” with this empty space that all of your claims, all of your ideas, all aspects of your identity come from, there’s something that is present. It is a presence. It is not a thing, but from this comes absolutely anything and everything that you claim to be true about the world, about experience, about your identity, etc.

That silent presence is source, but more importantly it’s your true identity, the real you.

So what is all of this then? How do we explain the experience part of this?

Let’s speed this up a bit

Now, this part might get a little complicated if you don’t take some time to understand it, like pleaseeee take your time and re-read it a hundred times if you have to.

So, there are a few aspects that stem from source, one of these being perception, and another being sensations, we don’t need to get into the details too hard for these to so I just want you to understand it as “Sense-Perception”. This is just a fancy way to describe the WAY we experience reality, NOT REALITY ITSELF, VERY IMPORTANT.

Feeling, Tasting, Touching, Seeing, Hearing, Smelling, and whatever else you can think of (I think that’s all) ARE FILTERS. It is through the limitations of this filter that you experience your own being, conciousness.

I need you to imagine source, there is no perceiving no attributes, just a vast nothingness, it is full of life and energy which is the starting point for all of existence, but it is not a singular thing.

This is knowing. The very simple effortless thing that you are. From knowing comes absolutely everything and anything.

Let’s take white teeth as an example. So you now know, “white teeth”. However, this is just that, just knowing it, not perceiving it, not touching, not hearing, none of that. But I need you to know that this is infinitely more above any sense or really just anything to ever exist for that matter because it’s source, it’s you.

Now here comes the magic

What would be the result if we added Sense-Perception into/onto knowing? If you not only knew “white teeth” but also saw it? Also heard it? Also could smell, taste, touch, it? Could feel it?

You get what we call the world, no?

You see, the ways we perceive source/ourself is like a VR headset, or glass, or a sheet, and once it’s added to the equation, whatever it is that source is activating/manifesting as, is then experience by source THROUGH/WITH perception.

The part that can be confusing is addressing what currently is perceived. Well, it’s incredibly simple.

We’ve been conditioned into thinking that the senses activating knowing, this is literally just false to begin with because we don’t require senses to know.

For example, you opening your bank account and seeing a balance IS NOT THE REASON to activate the idea “I don’t have enough money” or “I’m can’t overspend”, don’t believe me? then explain why your able to think the same things without looking at your bank account?

If it truly was seeing your bank account that validated the idea, then why are you capable of even knowing anything related to your money story without looking at your bank statements?? It should not be possible without the validation of the senses right?

You shouldn’t be able to think about how poor you are when you’re in the shower, at work, before you sleep.

But it’s possible because what you know is in no way associated or reliant with what is seen. And having the information about what source is should make you hesitant to ever activate a story that doesn’t please you again. You are too comfortable in the cycle your in. I’m sorry if that’s a little harsh.

If we go back to perception being the filter that source experiences its own activity with, you realize that the only thing that ever changes is what’s known. The world is a SIDE EFFECT of VIEWING whats known, LET ME SAY THAT AGAIN.

YOU ARE SOURCE, YOU CREATE, THE WORLD IS WHAT HAPPENS AS A SIDE AFFECT OF PERCIEVING WHAT YOU ARE.

This has absolutely nothing to do with making or forcing things to change, the only thing that changes is you! This is about the way reality works. Not a how to guide on “getting it all”.

Now for the next part, THIS DOES NOT TURN OFF.

When I say that the senses do not create but, YOU DO, that means always!!! So looking in the mirror and complaining about your skin or eye color or nose is not going to ever activate any idea, BECAUSE YOU ARE DOING THE ACTIVATING. Don’t you see?? ITS COMING FROM YOU.

The senses CANT create, they SENSE, they perceive what reality is being! They perceive what IS KNOWN.

They can never ever ever be the cause for what is known. Looking at your teeth cannot create the knowing “my teeth are so yellow” BECAUSE YOU DO. YOU CAN DO THE SAME WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED YOU CAN DO THE SAME UNDERWATER, IN THE SHOWER, IN BED, IN THE E.R, WHATEVER IT IS YOU KNOW IS WHAT REALITY IS, AND THIS IS WHATS PERCEIVED, The side affect of percieving “my teeth are yellow”?? Well you tell me what that would be? EXACTLY.

Understand it like this, if the story or idea I’m about to activate right now could be seen, heard, touched, or just perceived in any way, what would it look/sound like? Do you see what this is now?

When you realize that you are source, allot of things start making more sense, the teachers and videos saying it’s all about you, start making sense, but they make it sound like the world is something you CHANGE as if it exists on its own, NO!

The world is the result of what KNOWING is, when it’s perceived.

At no point does this stop being true, so when you go “my teeth are white” this is reality, this is what will be perceived, but if you decide to go into habit and activate “my teeth are yellow”, there is no different process, this is what will be perceived. There is no bias to reality.

The starting point will always and can only be what’s known, the rest is automatic, as it’s always been, the only difference is, you have been activating things that you don’t like, and because this is source, all that will be perceived is what you know, so if it’s about money, or love, business, school, understand, THE MOMENT, you know something, IT IS REALITY!!!! IM NOT EXAGGERATING.

Don’t confuse the world as if it is its own entity or source, no, it’s a side effect or perceiving, NOT something you’re trying to control.

I want you see it for yourself, this information will not be of any use if you don’t see for yourself.

Please please remember. What’s perceived is not a story, it is not an idea, it’s not telling you what reality is, it’s only that, perception, it’s the same thing as looking at a brick wall for information, it cannot and will never be source, notice where the stories activate when you react to the world, and recognize that it’s something that you know, a feeling cannot stop knowing, NOTHING CAN, ITS SOURCE!

Okay, I’m sorry if this is a bit confusing at first, this is a very alternate view of the way we’ve been taught what reality is, and I know you might have allot more questions, I’m more than willing to answer them, but till then, please read this post or my past post again

(Yes im rambling, im very sleep deprived rn)

#blommp717 #nonduality #manifestation #manifest #non dualism #law of assumption #master manifestor #nondualism #advaita vedanta #law of attraction #manifesting #manifestationcoach #vision board #affirm and persist #affirmations #robotic affirming

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sunflowersandchrysanthemums · 15 hours ago

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Why is SatoSugu so compelling?

Oftentimes, I gravitate to ships with solid characters who end up with poor writing decisions. Just look at any of my past Kalpollo fics, but SatoSugu defies this. Instead, Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto are some of the best-written characters I've encountered in a long time. Expertly crafted as individual characters, a duo, and in their respective roles in the larger story of JJK. I believe it is within this masterful writing between these two characters that we find what makes the Ship so compelling.

Stirring beyond the surface of their ship tropes, we find a narrative that simultaneously presents us with two opposing questions: What change would need to happen to impact their fates? and would those changes be enough?

For more details and nerd stuff, see footnotes at the end of the post.

My intention here is not to provide a character analysis or study on what makes Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto great characters, instead, what I am doing is reflecting on my personal reactions to this ship in order to better understand why I find it so compelling. (1) As well as doing some critical analysis of the writing.

When I get into a ship, I find a sense of compulsion to write fanfiction. My previous endeavors into fanfiction were fuelled by a desire to write these characters better endings and, more importantly, work through some personal trauma. (2) The end result is a fic that satisfies both needs, I get to create or explore these beloved characters more and gain personal insight.

So far, this has not been the case for SatoSugu, like everyone in this ship, I just want to see them to be happy. Similar to before, my first thought upon writing a fic was what would need to happen for them to have a happy ending; it seemed like a simple enough task. Instead of diving head first into writing, I found myself stuck with how well-written they were.

When I write fanfiction, I try to stay as true to the characters as possible, but these two have made this quite a challenge. Gege wrote them so well that I have constantly found myself doubting if these characters would do the things I imagine in my fics. I'll go on a fic planning session feeling great only to learn something new or remember a small detail about them, causing me to completely rethink my perspective.

I, as a writer, am stuck with determining how much would I need to change about their story for them to have an ending where they work together to change their society without completely altering what makes their characterization so compelling.

This conflict helps demonstrate just how well crafted Gege wrote these characters. So much of who they are, their personalities, their quirks, and their uniqueness, is tied directly to the events of Hidden Inventory/Premature Death. It is not an exaggeration to conclude that without HI/PD happening the rest of the events in JJK would not have happened or would have been drastically different. Again, now leaving me with the question, if HI/PD doesn't happen, then how much of Satoru's and Suguru's characterization is impacted? Am I still staying true to the characters? (3)

It is within this conflict that Gege has incited in many of us, both viewers/readers and creatives, that we find why the ship is so compelling to us. It makes us question ourselves, question what choices we would make, and think beyond what is shown to us to understand our interpretations. Never before have I had such a long and continuous visceral reaction when thinking about what happens to these characters. Their stories make me cry, but they also make me think.

They inspire me to not just reflect on their characters but to create something of my own and for that, I thank you Gege for giving the world this deeply compelling ship.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Footnotes

Academically, what I am doing is phenomenological analysis, most in line with feminist thought; reflecting on personal experience to gain insight into a topic. In this case, I am using my personal reactions to SatoSugu as a part of gaining a better understanding of why I find them so compelling.

See my AO3 fics, Hues of Blue and Gray, and Apollo's Fathers

This is just my personal goal for fanfiction and not a statement on other writers' interpretations of Satour and Suguru

#satosugu #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #geto suguru #stsg #jjk satosugu #jjk #ship analysis #my writing #phenomenology #feminist thought #academic writing #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk fanfic #satosugu analysis #gege akutami #mini essay

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danika-redgrave124 · 2 days ago

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Day 4: Matching

“Yo, Trey! Hold still for a sec!”

Cater practically bounced over to Trey, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. In his hands, he held a small, colorful object—something that glinted slightly under the light. Trey barely had time to react before Cater grabbed his wrist, slipping a beaded bracelet around it with practiced ease.

Trey blinked down at it, momentarily thrown off. The bracelet was simple but stylish, made of small beads in varying shades of green and brown. A tiny charm in the shape of a club dangled from the center, catching the light as he flexed his fingers.

“Uh… what’s this for?” Trey asked, raising an eyebrow as he turned his wrist to examine the accessory.

Cater beamed, holding up his own wrist to show off a matching bracelet. His had the same beaded design, but in his signature orange and red hues, with a little diamond charm at the center.

“Friendship bracelets, duh!” Cater said, his tone as cheerful as ever. “You know, like those super cute ones people make at summer camps and stuff? I saw some at the Valentine’s event, and I figured, hey, why not make some for us?”

Trey chuckled, adjusting the bracelet slightly to make sure it fit comfortably. “Didn’t take you for the crafty type.”

Cater scoffed, placing a hand on his chest as if deeply offended. “Excuse you, I am full of surprises! Besides, it’s not like I made ‘em from scratch or anything. Just picked out beads and put them together.”

Trey hummed, rolling his wrist once more. “Well, it’s nice. Feels sturdy too.”

“Obviously,” Cater said, flipping his own bracelet with a flourish. “Can’t have my bestie walking around with a cheapo bracelet, right? Plus, now we can totally match!”

Trey smirked, shaking his head. “What, are we ten again?”

“Pfft, as if. But admit it—it’s kinda cute, right?” Cater waggled his eyebrows.

Trey exhaled through his nose in amusement, a small smile creeping onto his face. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Cater.”

“Anytime, bestie~!” Cater grinned, snapping a quick picture of their wrists side by side. “Gotta post this later—#MatchingVibes.”

Trey only chuckled, shaking his head as he let Cater have his moment. But even as the conversation moved on, his fingers absently traced the beads on his wrist, a small warmth settling in his chest.

Maybe matching wasn’t so bad after all.

@oh-hopeless-heart

I do love them together in a romantic sense, but I wanted to write platonic them instead.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst trey #trey clover #twst cater #cater diamond #disneytwistedlove #twst fan event

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for-a-longlongtime · 9 hours ago

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HELLO BARKEEP I WOULD LIKE A PINT OF YOUR FINEST READER X SANTI PLEASE

IO YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY I AM ABOUT YOUR REQUEST

(seriously, I wasn't sure if anyone would ask after my Santi fics haha)

I WILL GIVE YOU MY FINEST

So this fic started with me wanting to read a good brat tamer!Santi fic (there's not much out there 😫), but then shifted after I saw this post:

So this is basically going to be NTIDK!reader and NTIDK!Santi. (Note: That whole bar situation with the three of them happened not too long ago - I mean, so far only part 1 is up, but I doubt I'm spoilering anything here - and while she and Santi has been friends for a while, they're still trying to figure out this new territory they're now in.) She's been having a stressful month at work and comes home one day at the end of her rope. In her words:

All you had wanted to do tonight was to curl up on the couch with Frankie, have a couple of drinks and pizza for dinner, and afterwards let Frankie eat your pussy before fucking your brains out. The perfect way to unwind and try to not think about anything. No decisions, no people, no nothing.

Instead, she finds Santiago at her place, who tells her Frankie had to go out of town for work and wasn't able to reach her (her phone was dead). Not a big deal, but since she's in a bad mental headspace it just kind of pushes her over the edge into a minor meltdown/ tantrum, and she ends up taking it out on Santi:

“When did I even…”

“That’s not the point!”

He runs his hand over his stubble, looking slightly exasperated as he seems to search for a response - but all you can really see is how his thumb and index finger brush over his full bottom lip before they come together, making the plushness of it look even more attractive than usual.

“You’re staring.” His low, deep voice sends involuntary shivers down your spine, and you struggle to make yourself look up at his eyes instead of - indeed - staring at his mouth.

“Am not,” you protest weakly as you take a few steps back, but it only makes a cocky smirk curl around his lips. It fuels the flames of your anger that had only simmered when you were distractedly admiring his mouth, except for now you also feel self conscious on top of it all. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Oh, really?” The look in his eyes turns a little darker, more predatory than you’ve seen before, as he takes a step closer to you. Your heart rate picks up as you suddenly remember that evening in the bar - both of you messing around with shots, and you ended up shoved against the bar, both your arms pulled behind his back by him, and the heat of his cock pressed against your ass. It felt like ages ago, but all in all it barely had been a few weeks.

“That’s a problem, isn’t it?”, he continues before you can respond. It’s like he knows what you’re thinking, because the next moment his hands close around your wrists and he tugs you to him. You nearly stumble, but he holds you up, your hands now practically pressed against his chest. Your cheeks feel hot when he leans over to your ear, and this time the low timbre of his voice is affecting you so much more than you’re willing to show.

“I think the actual problem might be that you rather want to be full of me. Princesa."

Your desire immediately flips back to rage caused by that singular word, nearly giving you whiplash, and you try to shove him away with your full weight.

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that,” you hiss at him. If he hadn’t been holding your wrists, you would’ve slapped him in his face.

(…)

You try to shove him again, but he clocks the movement, and with a strong tug at your wrists he makes you stumble against him, using your disorientation to drag you across the room. You yelp as you nearly trip again, but he doesn’t even respond to it, making you stumble along with him, as he then shoves you not so delicately with your back against the wall.

The gasp that escapes from you isn’t because of pain, but surprise - barely processing how quickly and decisively he moves. Within the blink of an eye he has you pressed against that wall, your hands above your head still held tightly in his grip. He coolly looks you up and down, making sure that you didn’t get hurt, then his eyes lock on yours. “What’s the matter. You want to fight? Is that what Fish lets you do when you’re in a mood like this?”

“I don't need him to let me do shit, Garcia.” You try to take a deep breath, calm your rapidly beating heart, but it’s too difficult - he’s too damn close. You can see all the flecks of grey in his hair and his beard. Smell him so clearly. You’ve known Santi for a few years now, have seen him under all different circumstances - but the urge to literally and figuratively scratch at him now, just to provoke a reaction that you could respond to, is stronger than any reasonable thought in your head.

You didn’t want pity, you want - goddamnit, he is right, you do want to fight.

“Then what the fuck is your problem, hmm?” Santi leans in, his breath ghosting over your neck and you’re grateful for it - you can’t look at his eyes right now, can’t let him see yours. It's making you feel weak, and you hate feeling that way. That's what you would say if somebody asked you.

Your arms are straining, held up above your head by him like that - and it’s doing something to you that you’re not quite sure you’ve felt before. At least not since that brief moment he had you pinned against the bar a few weeks ago. It's something specifically about him. You do want to fuck him, as much as you don't like admitting it in this moment, but not because you want him as a stand in for Frankie. No, tonight you just want to break things, set them on fire, get broken yourself, have-…

I think you see where this is going. 😈 I'm still figuring out a bunch of stuff as I'm moving forward (she's a handful at the moment, as I'm sure you can tell - not just with him, but also for me to write her), but I'm excited about this. It's gonna be an intense one.

Thank you for asking about this WIP, babe!! 💜

(If anyone wants to ask about about other current WIPs, check out the original ask post. Happy to drone on about my blorbos if y'all wanna hear.)

little heads up to some folks (who I think I haven't bugged about this yet, but who might be interested to read this Santi snippet): @qveerthe0ry @crowandmousewritingco @reallyrallyauthor @alltheglitterandtheroar @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@faretheeoscar @missdictatorme @nowritingonthewall @campingwiththecharmings @writefightandflightclub

@maladptivedaydreaming @katw474 @ivystoryweaver @almostfoxglove @almostempty

@virtie333 @oliveksmoked @ohforficsake @wilder-fangirl @wolvieispunk

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #santiago garcia #triple frontier #frankie morales #wip #wip folder #my writing

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ancha-aus · 15 hours ago

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RealAge AU Drabble - Through Other Eyes

What is this?! A drabble? Of real age?! In 2025?!

Lmao. Okay so... After i posted about having the guys have different AU origins I had this thought and it would not leave me mind :3

So. Bonus drabble!! (I am making my editing life even harder lmao)

So one last time :3 Heya @spotaus you ready?

I am not sure on the place in the timeline for this one. so much like Killer's dream chapter. this one is a bonus drabble and doesn't get a set place yet.

Important side note!!! :3 Papyrus still calls Dust 'Sans'.

First drabble

*---------------------------------------*

He narrows his eyes as that Cross guy won't stop leaning against Sans's back and looking over his shoulder. Sans doens't push him off but that is just what his brother is like. Sans rarely picks stuff for himself. Papyrus can know! He grew up wiht him! And his brother always put him first!

He... He doens't know why but it was also... He is sure it was also like that before. It had to be.

He glares as that stupid skeleton in white snorts and nuzzles closer to his brother "Dust you are wicked smart. How did you even plan this whole lesson plan?"

Papyrus also doesn't like them using that name for his brother. His name is Sans! They picked it out together with mister Asgore and it will always remain his name!

his brother shrugs "Used what that institued recommended. Easy from there." Sans calmly makes some more small pencil marks in one of the books as the tiny babybones looks curiously between Sasn and Cross.

Papyrus feels very double about the babybones. He knows it is Nightmare. But Nightmare is still the same person who nabbed his brother when he was vulnerable. When his brother was still trying to come to terms with everything that happened and the choices he had felt forced to make. His own mind against him.

But now that same monster who used his brother's vulnerability and doubt to get someone to work for him... is now a child. A tiny and young babybones.

Papyrus wants so badly to hold the tiny guy. Teach him what he knows about cooking and being a great and amazing uncle for him!

But well... being dead makes that sort of hard.

A yelp and Papyrus turns only to let out an outraged gasp. Cross had pulled Sans back with him into that nest and Papyrus sputters "No! Stop that! That is indecent! Ten feet distance!! Sans!"

Sadly Sans can't hear him. Sans was never able to hear him. Papyrus sighs as he crosses his arms "Honestly. The indecency of these guys. Sans you could do so much better! Those three are horrible influences on your child!" he glances to the side and notices two large lavender eyes looking in his direction.

Then the moment passes and a loud laugh joins them "Oh hell yeah! cuddle time!" another skeleton walks over. He snatches the poor babybones and joins Cross's side.

Papyrus knows he shouldn't be mean or rude but he doesn't trust Killer. Least of all with his fragile brother. Killer is just... intense. He doesn't notices boundaries well and his broter isn't the most obvious about his own. Papyrus has noticed that Killer is very good in angering his normally calm brother and Killer seems to be able to push his brother's every single button.

At least he gives Sans his babybones and his brother focus turns to the small skeleton immediantly.

Papyrus grins as he floats close "Yes! Ignore those two heathens!" His brother is happy being able to take care of the now small god and Papyrus is happy to support his brother. Even if it is just in spirit. Nyeh heh heh! that was a great joke! He will have to tell Sans when he can-

Oh right.

Papyrus is still not used to not being able to just tell Sans all his jokes. He misses it so much.

The last of them joins as well. A giant of a skeleton. Papyrus used to be worried about having someone so big and strong near his brother. Papyrus used to protect his brother after all with his brother only having 1HP. But Horror was okay.

He was considered and careful and Papyrus really liked him! He had seemed trustworthy!

That was! Of course! Until he turned out to want to date his brother! Indecent! All of them!

Papyrus keeps a watchful eye as they get comfortable to sleep. Sans rolls up around his babybones as the others lay nearby as well. Cross lays much too close in Papyrus's opinion. He does not need to spoon his brother like that!

But Papyrus will just stew in silence as he watches. Maybe one day he will be able to get through to his brother and get him to see he can do much better than these heathens!

His brother falls asleep quickly much like the other skeletons. Soon the only sound left in the room is the soft crackle of the fire in the fireplace and the loud snoring from Horror and Killer both. Hoenstly how neither of those woke his brother or that Cross guy up is a miracle.

Papyrus huffs as he leans back in the air "Honestly Sans. You could do so much better."

"His name isn't Sans anymore."

Papyrus turns quickly and sees two large lavender eye lights stare at him.

Papyrus blinks.

Nightmare blinks back.

Papyrus suddenyl feels nervous "You... can hear me?"

Nightmare nods before glaring at him "You are rude about my dads."

Papyrus glances to the side before crossing his arms "Well! They touch my brother unnecessarily often." there!

Nightmare tilts his tiny skull "Why do you care? You are mean to him anyway."

Papyrus sputters and waves his arms and hands out "That isn't me!!"

His brother... something is haunting his brother. Something that is faking being the great Papyrus. Making his brother doubt him! Making him feel insecure and unloved! That that must have been the reason that his brother would let these menaces near him! That must be it!

Nightmare tilts his skull and blinks those large lavender eyes again "I mean... I know it isn't you. But these type of thoughts and beleives don't come from nowhere."

Papyrus crosses his arms and frowns "I know that... It is probbaly his guilt..." But Papyrus still doesn't understand why his brother would

Nightmare just continues to stare at him "I always could hear what the other you said you know. Before it was easier than now but now it is easier to make it go away."

Papyrus frowns as he looks curious "How... how do you do that?"

Nightmare looks thoughtful before shrugging "Just a feeling. I don't want him to be hurt by that thing... I restored his mind to before he made it." he looks down bothered as he clenches a hand "It isn't perfect... But it is a start. It gives him room to heal."

Papyrus nods as he rubs his hands "Do you... think you could... help him see and hear me?" He has so many things to tell his brother. So many things he want to reassure him. Tell him he isn't mad. That he understands why he did it. That Papyrus knows Sans can do better.

"I don't think that is a good idea."

Papyrus looks shocked as Nightmare just stares at him.

Papyrus's mouth feels dry "Why not?"

Nightmare hums "Those feelings came from soemwhere. I don't want dad to feel them again." There is a protectiveness and a determination in that young voice.

Papyrus glares "I would never make my brother feel like that."

Ngihtmare tilts his skull "But you did. At least in the past. Maybe you don't even remember doing it. But you must have done something that made him beleive you would not pick him." and he stares at him. Knowing.

The plate on his hand inches. Memories just out of reach snag the back of his mind. Had he... had he picked others over his brother? he wouldn't have right? his brother is the most important person to him! Ever! So why would he?!

Nightmare cotninues to stare at him "You were the one after all who said you wanted soemone's opinion that mattered."

A long time ago. When he and Sans had just moved to Snowdin. When he had wanted to impress Undyne. Papyrus remembers now. He had made that thoughtless comment. He had wanted to apologise but Sans told him to forget about it...

Papyrus shakes his skull "That... that was just once...."

Nightmare continues to stare at him "Was it just once? Or just once that you remember?"

The plate on his hand itches again. Regret that he doens't know the source of. Broken memories of wanting to... help someone? Had... had he wanted to help someone? At the cost of Sans? No... he wouldn't right?

Papyrus shakes his skull "You are wrong!" he snaps and glares.

The staring breaks and a look of fear as Ngihtmare tries to back up and away. Papyrus immediantly regrets it as he reaches for the young babybones.

Cross is arleady awake "Nighty? Hey hey little Nightlight it is oaky." the skeleton takes Ngihtmare into his arms and holds the shaking skeleton "What is wrong? did you have a nightmare? did you have a bad memory?" he continues to hold Nightmare.

Ngihtamre continues to stare at him with fear and Papyrus isn't sure what to do. He hadn't... he hadn't meant...

Cross stares right at him but can clearly not see him as he looks back at Ngihtmare "Hey sweetsoul. What is wrong? You can tell me."

Nightmare looks embarrassed as he mutters "Trying to get Dad's ghost to leave him alone..."

Cross blinks beofre holding him close "Oh Nightmare. It is okay. It isn't your responisibility to take care of us. We take care of you..." soft nuzzles and cuddles.

Nightmare looks unsure before nodding and hiding his face into Cross's shirt.

Papyrus doesn't know what to do or say as he remains right where he was before. Just an observer to a world he doesn't belong to anymore. He isn't even sure why he is still here...

He thoguht he could help his brother but he can't do that...

He just wants his brother to know he loves him. That he isn't mad at him.

Papyrus speaks softly "I am sorry." Nightmare flinches as soon as he speaks and he rubs his hands "I am really sorry... Please... can you... tell him? That I love him? That I am not mad at him? That i never was?"

Even if Papyrus didn't agree with the choices that Sans made. Even if Sans did something that Papyrus would never do. Papyrus can't be mad at him. Not when he knows that he tried his best. When Papyrus knows that Sans truly believed that to have been the only way to stop the human.

Papyrus just wishes that Sans would trust Papyrus to still love him and believe in him.

#utmv #realageau #nightmare sans #deaged nightmare #dust sans #killer sans #cross sans #horror sans #dusttale papyrus #so. handplates dust and papyrus have all my feels.#because all the trauma wiht gaster #where gaster made sure that sans/dust knew that his only purpose was to keep papyrus stable.#the fact that papyrus skipped out on escaping with sans to help gaster #the fact that papyrus was always willing to forgive gaster and give him chance after chance after chance #I just think that it is very interesting.#so a short drabble concerning THAT #also no. Ppayrus does not approve of ANY of these heathens and want them to let go of his brother right now.#papyrus demands at least ten feet distance between them but no one but the baby can hear him.#and the baby isn't about to translate for him lmao.#so yeah.#bonus drabble lmao

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allenkel · 2 days ago

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Parker Luck

This is a work in progress fanfic inspired by Dark Matter by mystercyclone on ao3 and pretty much every other work similar to it! So, make sure to check them out!

For now, here's a sneak peek at the first chapter!

Parker Luck- Chapter 1 (Sneak Peak)

By: Allen Kelsey

After saying his goodbyes to Ned and MJ Peter returned to Dr. Strange, ready for him to start. “I’m ready… I’m ready.” Peter reassured himself as well as Dr. Strange. He winced, his wounds, cuts, and scrapes all stung and hurt badly, mainly the one on his torso that looked like he was struck by lightning. “Good, but this is going to be risky, the invasion of the multiverse is making this world and everything in it unstable, including magic. Are you sure about this? If this goes wrong...” Dr. Strange looked at Peter, who just nodded in response, determination in his eyes. He really didn’t want to use this spell, not on the kid who fought with him through a war that he didn’t even need to be involved in, the kid who died in Tony’s arms and was brought back only for him to witness Tony die, saving everyone. “Is... Is it supposed to be green?..” Dr. Strange snapped out of his thoughts looking back at the spell, it’s not supposed to be green.. “Oh shit, Parker-” Before he could say anything the spell exploded directly in Peter's direction... It was bright.

When the blast of light dissipated, the kid was gone. “W-where..?” He looked around the world was normal, at least in terms of not collapsing normal. Then he panicked, where’d the kid go? He had his memory of him still, yet the world wasn’t collapsing? Dr. Strange went over the traces of magic left behind, “Oh shit..” shit shit shit shit! The spell became way too unstable and had started pulling in more energy than what he thought was possible from the cracks in the universe, he knew what happened. The kid isn’t here anymore, but he knows he's not dead. At Least he thinks so..

* * *

Peter felt his molecules and atoms rip apart at the sudden burst of light, then he felt them come together again.

Over and over and over and over-

It hurts.

He tried to grab onto anything and everything not understanding what happened, what's going on, just that he needed to stop the pain.

It hurts

It hurts.

It hurts!-

He felt his lungs burning and he couldn’t breathe but he couldn’t move either.

Why couldn’t he breathe?

He couldn’t move but he needed to breathe! He tried desperately to move, to get his body out of whatever it was that was preventing him from breathing.

He can’t breathe!

He felt big hands grab him pulling him out of something heavy and wet, they put him down on something cold, but he still couldn’t breathe!

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

That's the sneak peek for you all! Also! Just a heads up that I don't have a routine posting schedule so be prpared to either get a chapter or not by the end of the month!

P.S.- Peter's body (NOT his powers) kind of got de-aged because of the whole magic going all over the place, hence the note at the top saying most of this work was inspired by small or big ideas from others and this will be my first really committed fanfic that I am motivated to keep making!

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irlnorthshaw · 2 days ago

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Here's a question:

What are your Supa Strikas ships that you thought of and like, and think people wouldn't get?? (I'm curious lol-)

MIMPI... mimpi... be careful for what you're asking because you know how i am with shipping. guys i ship for life. like i dont give a damn if the ship's interaction is worth one cent... i make do with what i can and have!!! and after rewatching the show a couple billion times... i have gathered some INTERESTING ones.

liquido and riano

as you may know, i have watched "your latest trick" A LOT. yes they did interact in this one scene and never again but hear me out– they give me: liquido can't get over himself and thinks he can bag one of the finest man in the super league. but we all know riano, riano isn't having any of that. their convo would go something like this:

"hey, riano~" "goodbye, liquido."

el matador and blok

YES. yall heard me. this is also me showing some love to blok because some people seem to forget about him!!! what can i say, i love the idea of this dynamic. the thing is, sometimes i ship things in a way i wanna see more of them interacting and not necessarily picture them BEING together. if that makes sense.

these two are exactly that. i wanna see more of them interact bc lowkey i thought it was so wholesome when blok wanted to collaborate and promote fzzzl bmmm w the release of el matador's action figure.

DOOMATIC!!!!! OH YEAH BABY

if only automatic had more moments EUGH... this would've been so good. i personally pat myself on the back when i thought of this one bc i cooked HARD!!! they definitely cannot stand each other and to me, that's the best part of it all.

enemies to lovers who? more like enemies and i cannot believe we're also lovers.

skarra and north

the best way i can describe this one is. i am simply projecting myself on north and i love skarra. so... yeah #SHAMELESS

inyo and miss altivo

AKA PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE YURI!!! this one you guys HAVE to love. PLEASE!!! the potential is so insane here... inyo's big brains and chameleon-like tactics? combined with altivo's unwavering power over these dumb men for clicks and views??? COUNT ME TF IN!!!

we need more yuri in this fandom and THIS is where we should start.

brenda and lena

SPEAKING OF YURI... here's another one. except this time i am so surprised nobody has jumped on this yet??? futbol 360 yuri, i NEEEED IT!!! i need it now. they'd honestly be so cute and wholesome, moreover they definitely trade information abt the players for work

coach and the sheikh

now this one is a tad bit controversial BUT who am i without some controversial opinions!!! this is another case of i cannot see them BEING together, but i would kill to see them interact more. they are wayyy more entertaining than coach and vince. (THAT MIGHT ALSO BE CONTROVERSIAL) ohh... the way sheikh is so sassy w coach. maybe i just want more of the sultans... yeah thats it.

"losing your cool, coach? or just losing?" AND THEN PROCEED TO WALK AWAY LIKE THE BADDIE HE IS??? crazy stuff. i want more. NOW!!

belmont and von pushup

OKAY SO... storytime is i had an edit of these two a long time ago but i cant find it???? so consider it xander lost media at the moment. you guys need to hear me out on this because they would be SOOO PEAK!!! jock and goth but to another level i fear. as big and tough the iron tank guys are, i doubt they can stand grimm fc's haunted gimmicks.

plus von pushup works together w belmont to scare his own team bc he thinks its hilarious and perfect psychological training for them

AAAAAND THAT'S ALL... for now hehehe

sorry for the really long response but I HAD TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM!!!! i love crackships so much and especially in supa strikas bc we get a whole lot of freedom as a smaller fandom to do whatever. this was a very fun post to make, thank you so much mimpi for that lovely question!!! i always look forward to your input

#WARNING: LONG POST AHEAD OF YOU!!!#who is irlnorthshaw without ships that dont make sense but kinda do #hashtag doomatic number one!!#i hope you can appreciate just how random some of these are #im rereading all of this and wondering to myself wow... my brain is a strange place #also WE NEED MORE YURI!!!#supa strikas #supablr #xan: answers

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aurosoulart · 1 year ago

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Departure / Arrival

#art #digital art #artists on tumblr #illustration #digital painting #photomanip #paintover #i made both versions back in 2019 #but am only just now posting them together #something something symbolic journey of discovery and surrender and coming back changed forever #this artwork means a lot to me again suddenly

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yeonjune · 4 months ago

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Yeonjun about the strain he felt while preparing for his debut solo project ✙ "GGUM" MAKING FILM

#yeonjun #choi yeonjun #tomorrow x together #txt #ggum: making film #gifs #creations #userzaynab #useryeonbins #skyehi #rosieblr #megtag #hibiebear #heyiri #ultkpopnetwork #kpopccc #kpopco #this are like the rawest emotions we've seen from him... I feel... it's really sad to watch him like this #i mean I know they're under lots of pressure and stress #It's only natural when you work with so many people who you could potentially disappoint #and I know it was his choice to make this solo project happen now but i feel like the company could manage his schedule better #because why he films till 3 am and then right next day has a flight to another country for a concert...#and now we know from soobin they're super busy again #I'm worried his body will just say 'enough' one day and something bad will happen :(#and you have him work so hard and stress and then all this losers online whose biggest achievement is getting 100 likes on a post #writing the worst things about him for no reason... its not that hard to be kind and you dont need to have an opinion about everything :D #at the end of the day that celebrity you hate so much is still pretty and successful #and you're just a friendless jobless empty-headed rotten fool with likes on a post that mean nothing once you close the ap #I'm just glad all this is still fun for him and that he has such a great support system: his members family staff who care about him and us #all we can really do is support them and send them lots of love fr ;; you've done well my jjunie ily ♥

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myokk · 3 months ago

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For writers:

What’s your favorite piece of writing you’ve done, and why??

Idk I just woke up thinking about this & now I’m curious!!! & may or may not be compiling a tbr based on your responses since I really haven’t had the time to read any hl fics yet🫶🫶🫶

#I don’t really have an answer bc I love all of my oneshots/fic equally💓💓💓#the latest oneshot I spent a month writing…my fic has been in the works almost a year now…#but I was thinking that the Imelda oneshot I wrote in still crazy about and I reread it and love it #but it’s not popular at all but I don’t even think about popularity/notes with these thinfs #like if *I* am satisfied and happy with it #that’s what matters and I write these things because it’s a fun hobby and I write to my tastes😆#and my fic is like my baby…my brainchild…I’m weaving such a crazy plot together and NOTHING has been revealed yet😭😆#but I’m excited for things to start coming together & I *hope* it’s satisfying #and the Ominis oneshot🤌🤌🤌 idk I like them all😆😆#but yeah I don’t talk with many writers on here bc I started out only posting my scribbles #I want to start reading more too!!!!!!!! and it’s funny bc I actually started out in this fandom writinf only #but months of posting to nobody I just have fun writing and sharing these things💓💓💓#ignore these hashtags I’m always so incoherent right when I wake up😆😆😆#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #maybe even if you just read them but you have a favorite tell me why!!!!!

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feroluce · 10 months ago

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So I'm well aware this is probably a case of "it isn't that deep" but I love looking at all the fiddly little accessories and bits and bobs of Hoyo designs and trying to justify them. Sampo's is particularly funny, because. What even is all that dkkxjdkd

His outfit has so many straps wrapped around him, like they're restraining or holding something in to keep it from bursting at the seams, and not all of them look like they're even connected to anything! But I'd like to think they are useful in certain situations, like if Sampo takes a hit out in the Fragmentum from one of the monsters.

He's hurt, his arm is bleeding, but he is ALMOST done, he just needs a couple more things to fulfill his quota to Natasha and he doesn't want to turn around and go back now. So Sampo frees a strap from his shirt, winds it around his arm above the cut, pulls it tight with his free hand and his teeth. He'll treat it properly in a minute, once he's done scavenging.

There's also the strange chains that resemble snake spines. Given how they're way longer in his splash art and the way they wind around-

I'd like to think they can extend somehow, and Sampo can use them to scale heights. Firefly clocks him as a covert fighter without even being within 20 feet of him, so it would make sense for Sampo to have ways to get around that don't involve usual/obvious methods, like stairs. Think assassin skill sets.

He's also the only one known to be able to get between the Underground and the overworld, and while he's pretty tight-lipped about his method, having some sort of device to help traverse vertical heights is probably insanely helpful there.

And the little metal ornaments across the backs of his wrists! You can see it a bit better in his reference sheet (everyone say thanks @/dragaliareferencearchive!) as opposed to his splash art-

they aren't flat, they stick up a bit off his arms. And so I wonder if Gepard has ever gone to arrest Sampo, and found that they interfere with his handcuffs haha

The ornaments don't match, the one on his right wrist is actually shorter and doesn't extend down to the back of his hand. Which probably doesn't make it nearly as annoying for handcuffs as the left one, but it would make sense for Sampo to have them like that, since he seems to be right-handed! I think a certain proficiency in being ambidextrous is necessary to dual wield daggers like he does, but. Sampo uses his right hand to

hold his blade in his splash art

throw his blade in his skill

play/show off with his dagger in his idle

lob smoke bombs in his technique

cross over his heart when he bows

and to flip his bangs during the cutscene where he saves the trailblazers from Bronya

So a shorter guard on his right hand would help him keep his wrist's flexibility to be able to do all that unimpeded (loving the thought now that Sampo is naturally right-handed and still better with it, but he practiced constantly with his left until he could do things passably ambidextrous).

I also love them because I wonder if they're in the perfect place to help block a hit, along with the chain wrapped around his left forearm.

Like I love the image of a hired killer soundlessly sneaking up behind Sampo in some shady dark alley, knife sloooooowly raising, and then all at once, they strike!

And instead of feeling the blade sink into his back, they get the unpleasant resonating of metal-on-metal shivering up their arm and rattling their bones, because Sampo has turned around at the last second and raised his crossed his arms to let the knife glance off the guards on his wrists.

And the mercenary is left to realize that oh, they are fucked.

#sampo koski #hsr sampo #hsr sampo koski #hsr #honkai star rail #now that I think about it is there literally ANYTHING in canon that says Gepard carries handcuffs or do we all just need to be bonked skzjm #things I lay awake thinking about at 3 AM ☆#I would actually love to see Sampo use those guards to block a blow from Gepard because hhhhhh #gepo fight scene! gepo fight scene!#Gepard trying to bring Sampo down only to get held off at the last second #adrenaline pumping breath quick faces close together eyes wild and bright breathing right in each other's space #ahem #anyway #but I can't see them like REALLY fighting because Sampo mostly just commits fraud and theft and I don't think Gepard would resort to-#-violence over that. Geppie is a good boy he probably wouldn't get violent with Sampo unless Sampo was putting other people in danger.#looking at his splash art this closely also gave me a really funny revelation which I'll maybe post tomorrow #Sampo is such a little shit I love him NSMKDNDMD

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ganondoodle · 4 months ago

Text

(Original art) Xaror, any pronouns, species (?), age (?)

short summary about them; they act as both an antagonist and an ally since they are only really interested in what they want or whats fun to them, they are immortal and call themselves 'death itself' since they have a special connection to souls (being the only one able to communicate with them) and the ability to seperate souls from their bodies in such a way that nothing can harm the soul afterwards their main goal is to .. bother and disturb the 'celestials'*, which they hate, as much as they can, breaking into their palace, freeing prisoners, destroying research, destroying the place, and most importantly, making as many souls unusable to them as possible-

they dont want to destroy the celestials though, they cant fight them anyway and this game of doing 'good' only with the goal of annoying them is their most treasured activity, so Xaror doesnt intend to stop them from killing or hurting anyone, only from harvesting what they are actually after (though Xaror doesnt actually care as little as they think they do about people, and has a soft spot for demons)

most of their appearance is later into the story; Zaphira (the empress) had been in coma and the medical facility she was treated in was destroyed by Shargon (orange eyed demon who acts as her bodyguard for the first part) in an attempt to save her from her estranged relatives taking over her country after they heard of her decline in health, she is believed dead but washes up on the shore of the mountain Xaror resides at years later (it has a reason, too much to write here) and they slowly nurse her back to health, the reason they give for it is that they found their first encounter very fun, thats all (is it?)

(more lore under the cut bc this is already so long .. im trying to keep it short q-q ......... this is stuff i have been working on since i was a kid so uh, some things might be cheesy but i cant change them anymore ..)

just to get some basics out of the way; theres three worlds, the celestials palace, human world and demon world, each are their own planet connected via different gateways

*celestials (possibly not final name, loosely based on angels) are the last remaining "survivors" of their planets demise, when their world died the most powerful among them cannibalized the weaker to sustain themselves until there were only less than 10 left, who each turned into different beings from it and dont resemble their own people much anymore, they built a palace from what was left on their world that protects them from space as its atmosphere collapsed shortly after- however they still needed something to live off; they discover the human world and are delighted to find rather short lived people with powerful souls, the best kind of sustenance for them (now), they aim to herd them like cattle, but a problem arose when it turned out another world has long been in contact with the human world; demons

demons are semi immortal creatures that act as protectors for their world, protection they extended, more or less secretely, to the human world ensuring them a long and secure life- the celestials need them to die at their whim though (demons are few in numbers, hard to kill and rarely have offspring, not an ideal target); as they worked out a plan on how to get rid of demons one of the celestials, Xanthriel (time) grew somewhat fond of people as they spent alot of time in the human world to observe and research them; in the end turning on their own completely, but losing the fight against Uriel (knowledge)

Xanthriel was supposed to be executed for their betrayal, but it doesnt work, instead they are splintered into many parts after a lot of struggle, most body, memory and most strength is one part (ending up as motionless forever bleeding corpse kept locked up in the palace), the rest is some time later gathered together and reforms as a seperate, weak mockery of them, they embody Xanthriels emotion- Xaror, without memory, strangely cut to pieces (hence all the missing limbs and broken halo) but driven by an unstoppable desire to disturb the celestials (they live seperate long enough to each become their own person, at some point Xaror discovers Xanthriels body after all and they merge back together, though as they are now two, Xanthriel only takes over once directly after merging, stays silent for a long time and lets Xaror be themselves, only later revealing that they are there at all .. hiding perhaps- i rarely have specific ideas for voices, but Xanthriels is like, like coarse rocks being violently rubbed against each other, less voice more noise)

(also, the celestials use Xanthriels blood from the day of their execution to create a plague that nearly wipes out all demons, only the youngest of them survived, effectively robbing them of everything, culture, history, knowledge etc- as demons rarely have children, like a complete restart of their society, they disappeared from the human world, and over time being largely forgotten as actually existing- the celestials wanted them all gone however, so they kept kidnapping them to try and find somethign that would work similarly against the young ones too (and then in general, bc the only usable blood of Xanthriel was from the day of their fall, and that has long since been used up) one of the young ones was Shargon, he was the only one still alive from his group (he wasnt the strongest or special, he was jsut the last in the row and always got the lowest dosage) when Xaror found them in yet another break in into the palace and got him back to the demon world .. where he was promptly blamed for the others that were taken and treated like a pretender/fake/spy bc what he got put through changed his eye color (something that demons cannot change in any form) to one that does not exist among 'real' demons (orange ... notice the inner color of Xarors broken halo? :) ), some even suggesting killing him, but none of them were brave enough to do it (they were all kids still) .. except Eadrya (the big blue-ish one, largely regarded as the strongest demon alive) but Shargon managed to escape, and since then lived largely in isolation- this is part of why he is so hated, and why he starts to spend so much time in the human world after rediscovering the pathway there)

#ganondoodles #art #original art #oc #oc lore #i guess??????????#jesus this got so long #even though i tried to leave out as much as i can #god it sounds so meh when writing it out like this #but i swear it all fits together ......... at least a little bit better than it seems to be here #i have had most of this lore for years and years #im only now connecting everything and writing it to makes sense all together #ngl i almost dont want to clikc post #i dont know if i ever wrote this much oc stuff publicly #its like .......... my thinking lifes project #its also 1:30 am and i need to get up early for a dentist appointment hahaaaaaaa #long post #again .........................................#pls excuse any typos i am actively falling asleep as im typing #i havent even gotten into much of the demon lore #the entire element system and lords and king and and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah #just a few days ago i had the idea to make Eadrya actually having been fond of Shargon when they were young #only for him to reappear weird and changed- like an impostor there to end them all at some point #would give it even more reason why Eadrya hates Shargon so much hmmm #i want to thank the three people who will read this rambly wall of text #idk why i even put it on this wonky doodle .... but anyway- written is written

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