#come on you know goddamn well I am the owner of it anyway

[gonzodangerfeels]

I was thinking that the odds of carrying 3 for a full term or whatever the normies call it is probably not likely

So I don't know when but hey you gonna do whatever it is you do.

[bathroomgirl0024]

Puhuhuhuhu!

Heeeeeeeello, everyone! (oﾟvﾟ)ノ

It’s your favorite killing game mascot and Hope’s Peak (LOL XD) Academy’s headmaster, MONOKUMA! \(@^0^@)/ Wooohooo!!! Yay!!!!!   

It has been a while since I’ve talked to my audience before :O I missed you guys sooooooooo much!!! {{{(>_<)}}} You’re all probably BEARy worried about what happened to me after the killing game, right!?  

Well, uh...i-it's kind of embarrassing!! (*/ω＼*) But, I’ve been, um…stuck in some weirdo’s house, at the moment. (Don’t remember her name right now, Sowwy!! ^_~ ) And let me tell ya, It’s been AWFUL ever since I got here! Absolutely TERRIBLE!! 0 out of 5 stars!!! For you see, this incredibly boring bastard’s been forcing me into NOT doing anything DESPAIR RELATED! Σ(っ °Д °;)っ Can you BELIEVE that! This goddamn moron brought me to her house because she thinks she could “cHaNge mE fOr ThE bEtTEr”. I am going to save you all the gory details cause it's just that *horrible*!!! ~(>_<。)＼Like seriously, I’d rather die over and over again than have to be stuck here any longer… <(＿　＿)>

But anyway, as much I'd love to complain and cry for help to be free from this misery (the house is on the more safer sides of the area. Somewhere pretty far from the East side of hope’s peak academy, I think. Please come save me!!! >_<) that's not what I’m really here for. Someone, (who I’m guessing is the owner of this blog?) somehow found the-weirdo-freak-who's-keeping-me-here-and-boring-me-out's email address, knew I was there and sent this blog’s log-in info. The email also included instructions for how it worked and that there were questions I had to answer in it.  

Now this confused me at first. I mean, you think people on the internet would know not to share their passwords with anyone, but I guess this person’s an exception. But, when I saw that someone had questions for me, I was thrilled!! ＜（＾－＾）＞ I always love answering my adoring fans’ questions, and I really can’t wait to answer the ones on here!!! (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

[kis-kreatures]

My new son!!!! He's sort of a rescue? It's a whole ass story, I'll type it all below, but TLDR: his terrarium is miserable and i am very aware of that. I'm gonna fix it as soon as I am able to!

I also love him very very much.

Here's the whole story about him:

So i always wanted a tegu, but definitely wasn't planning to get one just yet. Money is one reason but the main reason would be the fact I am studying in a different town than where i live in. I am away for 2 weeks at time, coming home only every 2nd weekend. And my place at the education town doesn't allow animals and hell im coming home on holidays and itd be a pain to drive huge ass terrarium back and forth.

So i just started studying at this school last year and then in december my sister turns up at our house during one of the weekends i was home during. She has a tegu. I fall in love with him on first sight. She asks ME if i want him.

Here's context on how she got him in the 1st place, mind you, i do not have the closest relationship with my sister so i do not know details, anyways: she breeds crested geckos and used to work in a petstore, so she has contacts in the local reptile community. According to my sister's own words: Her friend and owner/worker (i dont actually know) of the petstore said he has a tegu he needs to get rid of (because nobody was buying him and he needed the space, i think? Smth like that), he asked her if she would take him. Well actually he kinda just gave him to her and then asked for money?? He costed less than a tegu would normally cost, so she hesitantly agreed and paid him the money. Cool, now she has a tegu she didnt actually really want? She wanted to resell him herself (like personally i dont think she would have higher chances than the more well known reptile keeper she got him from but ok), but, for some damn reason, she chose to come to me first...

And of course i cannot say no. But i should. Because i have school for the next 2 and half years and i wont be able to take care of him. FUCK. Why she gotta put me in that position.

Anyways i learn he is supposedly around 3 years old and he spend the previous years in petstore. Apparently my sister was walking around him back when she worked there. Quick google tells me that if indeed he is 3 years old, then he is way Way too small. So i assume he probably wasnt kept in a proper enclosure back in the petstore. And he hadnt had any interaction or love either. I feel bad. I want to give him a good home... But the fucking school... But its only 3 years long!

So i ask sister if she couldnt keep him and id get him after school ends? 3 long long years, but id have the boy at the end and my sister should be able to take care of him considering she has many reptiles of her own and contacts to ask things about tegus + the internet is always there. Or so i assumed.

She agrees and takes him home. I end up being very busy with school and my own mental health and dont really get updates on how hes doing. I just know he got his enclosure updated and has grown considerably. Good!

But then i fimnally have time to visit my sister. And i see the state his enclosure is in. I learn she never feeds him any veggies or proper variety of protein. I also explicitly asked her to try and get him conditioned to humans more. To take him out and handle him. She apparently never did that. Its been over half a year at this point. He was sleeping in his cork at that time. I complain about this to my parents. And my dad suddenly says "i didnt know you wanted him. I would have taken care of him when you would be at school." Like excuse me???? Wdym u never knew??? I thought my parents wouldnt want to or be able to take care of him, so i let my sister keep him. Well goddamn.

And so started the time to convince my parents to get him home. All summer holidays long. My sister suddenly greedily wants like 500€ for him. But my dad says he will pay for him. And when i ask him to actually do pay for him, he doesnt. THE WHOLE FUCKING SUMMER i was getting the green light and then the red light and then the green light... Never getting solid fucking answer, it pissed me off. And then at the end of summer i visit again. And learn that my sister claims he is "aggressive". Thats why she never handled him. She was afraid of putting her hand into the terrarium. I reach into the terrarium and he just smells me. I can pet him and hes showing no aggression whatsoever. At that moment im like "no fucking more. Im moving him home!" And FINALLY my parents are about to move his enclosure. But the enclosure is heavy, dad alone cannot carry it, im too weak and mom shouldnt be carrying heavy things because of medical reasons. I stupidly agree that we wait until my sister and her fiance arrive from a vacation to help us carry it. (Oh btw. my sister left a snake in plastic tub with nothing and then left for a week long a vacation... We were tasked to visit and take care of her animals but like??? Hello?????). We should have just fucking dragged it across the floor because what the decision to wait resulted in... Was another half a year. They didnt move the enclosure and holidays ended. I went back to school and have been dying from being ill all the damn time and struggling with mental health again. But ive been determined about getting the tegu for winter holidays. And no bullshit anymore. And my sister has been repeatedly asking if i really want him for the past few months, clearly wanting to get rid of him already. I really do. And he has been moved here last weekend. I was still at school at that time, but arrived home for this 2nd weekend. I will be leaving again on sunday though... But only for a week and then winter holidays! I will have to leave during them ocassionaly for exams, but should be here home long enough to try and get him used to humans so that my parents are not afraid of him and can take proper care of him while im gone. And also to fix his damn miserable enclosure. Really thought my sister would do fucking better job with all the resources she has. And also she asked for more money for him than during summer holidays! Of course she has- and theres like a single stick and barely big enough cork for the boy to fit in and a bowl in the terrarium. I feel so bad thats how he spent the last year. It must have been so boring. And who knows how his enclosure looked like when he was in the petstore... At least this one is big enough (for now).

I wish... I wish this all didnt happen just when i started attending new fucking school so far away. I do feel kind of selfish. Maybe my sister would have actually found somebody to buy him from her and he could have had better home for a while now. And just because I really want a tegu for personal interests, i've been keeping him away from that possibility. But well, present time, I am determined to do my best for him even with my stupid situation. It will be very busy winter holidays...

_______________________________________

Any tips and warnings and really anything regarding tegus is welcome!! I gotta get him to eat his veggies and go potty in 1 spot. Tips how to achieve that would be great. I also wanna make his enclosure bioactive, so if u know of any plants that will withstand a tegu, please let me know!

[dzpenumbra]

7/7/23

I just put my granola in for another 10 minutes so I'm going to start this. Yep, pretty much par for the course for my weird ass to be baking homemade granola at 5AM before I go to bed.

Today ended up being a low-key day. I woke up and it was obscenely hot. I don't think I slept very well, I remember waking up at least once, maybe twice. But yeah, the heat was the killer for me today. I had my second grocery order come in today, it... was the same fucking guy from a few days ago! XD The one who refunded half my shit. I literally ordered from a different grocery store. I didn't want to blame the guy, I mean... I was asleep. He could've been asking me what I wanted to do and I just missed the prompts or something. I figured... if I order from another grocery store, maybe I can bypass supply issues. Who knows, hard to tell where the weak link in the chain is when you're stuck at home.

I placed my order for the 5-7pm window and that ended up being great. I'm learning that these people like to start doing the shopping about an hour before the delivery window and get the delivery in as quick as possible. That's been my experience, anyway. So I need to start just taking the delivery window and subtracting an hour, because if they're shopping... they might be trying to get my confirmation on shit. Everything ended up being available, actually, for the most part. And the guy was actually really nice and texted a few times and said he remembered my place and all that. So... the guy I was upset at just a few days ago for leaving me stranded with no meat and no granola? I ended up giving him a 5 star review and a $2.00 tip bonus. Which... is a tip, okay? Let's just drop the fucking pretense here. If I am paying a percentage to just receive my delivery, that's a delivery fee. If I am adding payment for exemplary service, that's a tip. The "tipping culture" in this country is just so fucking out of control. It's just rooted in dishonesty and rotten from the core. It's never been about service, it's always been some shady way for restaurants and now service providers to pay their employees pennies. Plain and simple. And it's blatantly transparent, it's so odd that people will actually defend it.

Here's why I have a problem with it. With a balanced system, the business owner makes reasonable pay, the employee makes reasonable pay and the customer isn't paying an unreasonable amount. There is an equilibrium there, everyone wins. In this "tipping model" the business owner takes the vast majority, the employee gets paid illegal wages and the burden of making sure that employee puts food on the table for their family is shouldered onto the customer. It just feels like bad faith from the business owners. And they typically sell it as "but you can make as much as you want, as long as you shmooze the customers". It's just odd. And after seeing how things are not done like this in most other countries, and how this is a pretty uniquely American thing... it's not surprising to see it blooming out of the pandemic through all these service apps.

I literally cannot fathom the amount of money apps like GrubHub and Doordash and Instacart are making for simply... taking an existing idea... throwing it in an app... getting other people to do the work for them... and slapping a fee on it. Then just farming money until they retire. All these jingoists acting like the American Dream is working hard and earning a paycheck... when the real American Dream is laying on a couch watching fucking Netflix and raking in unfathomable amounts of money while other people work for you. It's so goddamn weird. How the fuck can you worship labor... and then set the end-goal of... not doing any labor at all? It makes no fucking sense! -_- I mean, god forbid those people actually achieve their goal of never having to work again, their entire life revolves around work! Half of their conversations are about how people "don't want to work anymore" or "haven't worked an honest day" or "that's not a real job" and shit like that. God forbid they finally achieve their goal and sit there and go... "what the fuck do I do now?!"

... Well... that came out of nowhere, didn't it. Hmm... Does it show that I might have maybe accidentally opened up Reddit this morning? I really really really need to uninstall that fucking app.

I have to go check on my granola. I think it came out good. I've been reading that you want it to be golden brown coming out of the oven but... it's hard to tell at first glance because of the honey. On second thought... I'll do 5 more minutes. I put the strawberries in it. It should be fine for 5 more, I'm sure. Worst case it's a bit crispy, I guess. I'm gonna put white chocolate in them when they cool too. :)

So yeah, since it's super late, I don't wanna go on long. It was hot as shit, still is really. I brought my fan down. I did yoga, it was really nice. I've been really enjoying yoga lately. I was strongly considering smoking weed before yoga and just having a stoned afternoon. It has been... probably close to a year since I've had one of those. And I decided against it. I'm... too scared.

I feel like such a coward now. I just... I know what the freakouts feel like, I know how bad they get. I am so goddamn familiar with them. Waking fucking nightmares. And I just... at a very deep level my body just goes "danger". Even though it's really just the same level of danger a horror movie or a nightmare would cause. They can be fucking traumatic. Especially when you don't have anyone to help pull you out of them. Which I have never had. Not once. Dozens and dozens of freakouts and several bad trips, not once has anyone been there to help me calm down, to tell me it's okay, to reassure me, to comfort me, to support me. What lousy fucking friends, man.

Seriously, I used to be so loyal to such shitty fucking people. I feel like an asshole saying it, but I'm glad I'm actually realizing this. What helps me feel okay saying it... is going... "if I were the sober one in that situation, how would I handle it?" And zero-fucking-percent of the time would I deal with a friend of mine freaking out in the way that others did with me. Not one. I mean, if some stranger came up to me on the street and they were freaking out and clearly tripping on mushrooms... I mean, that might be a different story... in past lives I definitely would have helped talk even them down, but now I'm a bit too scared of getting stabbed by homeless people or something... but if I had a friend that I had known for years come up to me and say "hey, I got high and I'm freaking out right now, could you help?" I would drop fucking everything. Of course I'd be there for them, why the fuck would you not?!

So... it really sucks because weed is legal and widely available and I have a decent supply on hand... and it feels like a much better way to decompress than drinking. I've never really agreed with drinking too much, always fucks with my stomach. And smoking tobacco is off the table... So... it's just this fucking anxiety/trauma barrier. And I've heard from others that weed helps them with their anxiety. That shit blows my fucking mind. It's really hard for me to process someone with an anxiety disorder smoking weed and then hearing the neighbors chatting through the walls and not going "oh god, are they talking about me?!" Or some paranoid shit. When I smoked, weed would unlock every damn door in my head. Like.. that was the benefit and the curse of it, the double-edged sword. That was my theory, at least. That it opened all of my doors that I built to sorta partition my mind and keep things orderly and not too existentially intense on a day-to-day basis, so by opening those doors and exploring, I was able to learn a lot more about myself and look at life from healthier perspectives... but it also let all my demons out to play as they saw fit. And what the fuck are past traumas if not demons. Well, ghosts, I guess... but you know what I mean.

So yeah, I'm still in this weird headspace about it. And I don't think there's going to be a real safety net for that for a long time. So... I'm gonna have to pick a path on that pretty soon. I need to either just bite the bullet and smoke, and ride it out and see how it goes... and risk being scared shitless and curled up in a corner for 2-4 hours, like that mushroom trip story I told last night... Or I forgo the indulgence, and not really have any recreational way to let loose besides video games.

I am very envious of people who can just smoke a bowl and paint for 4 hours and not have to deal with intense flashbacks, or experiential imaginative metaphors, or intense emotional unravelling. You'd think I'd pick up the hint by now that... that's what the substance does for me... I don't just get giggly and floaty. I start experiencing life cinematically. And I really do miss the adventure of that in some ways, I had a lot of amazing adventures while high a few years ago. But... for me... given how fucked my life has been, and all the ghosts wandering the halls of my mind... it can too often be a horror movie.

I always thought that was a perfect tool for my therapy. What better way to identify something I'm having a serious problem with than to smoke, wait 15 minutes, maybe smoke a cigarette as a rocket booster to send me deeper... then let my nervous system flip that coin. Chances are, my demons will come to me. And by that point, I'm already in a therapist's office, with someone I trust, who I have built up a rapport with, who I truly believe at a soul-level is there to support me and help me work through that moment. Imagine how much I could learn! Imagine how much progress I could make, how much insight I could draw. This was my theory in 2019. I was literally filling out forms to get a medical cannabis prescription in order to go through with this. And my fucking therapist refused, despite it being one of my terms for going there. Because I was at a group home place (to safely get off of meds) and there were people there in their late teens and early 20's who had drug abuse problems. And... apparently... they were totally cool with giving prescribed benzodiazepines to other residents... that didn't cause any "cravings" for the substance abuse people... but my plan with using medical weed to induce freakouts and then talk through my freakouts in therapy sessions... that would be problematic... Riiight. Just say you're out of your league, say you don't feel comfortable or qualified and then help me find someone who can assist me with that. Good lord, the fuck is wrong with people.

Man, I'm really on one today, huh.

Welp. Weed didn't happen. I got my groceries, I did my yoga, I did my workout. I ate a nice big breakfast, drank coffee and played Hades. I had a really cool idea of a visualizer that combines visualization and animation. It's a person sprinting, and the viewport is tracking the person, so the landscape is moving and the person appears still. I wanted the music volume to control the movement, essentially. Like... how fast the animation plays. But, I wanted to have it where if the animation plays below a certain speed, it switches to a different animation with a different gait. So volume from like... 0.5-1.0 are different speeds of full run, 0.2-0.5 are like a jog and 0-0.2 are walk. I would have to make seamless animations, but I can envision the coding logic, I think I could figure it out without too much difficulty. And then I can go fucking nuts with the background and foreground, and make them react to different frequencies in all sorts of different ways. It's a cool idea. And I've never animated a walk cycle before, so... I'm a bit overdue. It's a real rite of passage for animation. I will most likely do it in Blender, it'll be the most forgiving.

Instead of working on this, tonight... I sorted gravel by color. Because I'm that guy, apparently. Yep. From like... midnight to about 4AM, I took my pint container of the largest pieces of gravel that I sifted out of the sand I got, and I started sorting them by general hue. Blue, purple, reddish, yellow, white - with the more translucent quartzes separated. It was surprisingly relaxing. I just... wasn't there. It's so fucking meditative.

I love doing stuff like this, but... I'm... I don't know whether to stream it. Honestly. Like... would you tune in to a livestream to watch someone sort gravel by color in fucking real-time? The benefit of me doing this offline? I can watch whatever the fuck I want while I do this work without having to worry about any kind of copyright. I can listen to streams, I can listen to an audiobook, I can listen to a lecture, whatever I want. So... yeah, I just did that offline. And I made a ton of progress, sorted nearly half the jar. What prompted this, you ask? I saw a mosaic in Hades, it was a big mosaic on the wall of the Grand Hall. It was beautiful. And I've had a lot of mosaics showing up in my Tumblr feed too, lately. Mostly ancient Roman ones. And that really inspires me, I'm curious to do an Zen Garden type piece, and using the colors of the gravel to add in new layers of design. I like the idea of doing a mandala using different color stones. We'll see how it all plays out. For right now, I'm enjoying the process of sorting - it's shockingly rewarding when you just zone out for a few hours, then walk away, then come back and see how cool it looks all color-coded. Like taking a bag of M&Ms and sorting them by color, that kinda concept. It's a really subtle but powerful effect.

I think that's about it for the day, honestly. The only other thing is that my beads and my pot are technically done today if I want them to be. The color change on the pot is pretty nuts, it got much darker. It should be nice and waterproofed now. The beads look gorgeous and they're ready to be strung. I'm tempted to do that before bed, but... alas... it is 6:15 already... I think it can wait until tomorrow.

[qqueenofhades]

sex-confident Dream on his way to seduce his man wearing Corinthian's glasses for the lewk, send tweet

But you see, Dream could never, EVER actually pull that off. He might try, even in his new Horny Down to Fuck Got Me A Hot Man to Please post-Corinthian dissolution phase, but he would fail. Hard. So hard it would just be painful but also hilarious to watch. The Corinthian, despite eating actual goddamn eyeballs, is suave af and charming and looks like a douche, but you know, in a successful way. Dream would just look like a douche in a douche way. Grade A Plonker muddling around London in his long dark coat and Try Hard sunglasses. "Yes," this immortal anthropomorphic personification thinks to himself, with entirely unwarranted satisfaction. "Yes, now I am Cool."

(Spoiler alert: he is not cool. It is embarrassing to look at him.)

Anyway, Horny Dream arrives at Hob’s university, thinking that he is indeed this unstoppable sex machine. Hob runs into him coming out of class. Stares at him for a long moment, as in Dream's haste to show off his new Moves, he has predictably failed to notice that, this being London, it is raining buckets out and he looks more like a serial killer than the previous owner of these glasses, who actually was a serial killer. People are going out of their way to avoid him. Dream, of course, has failed to notice this too.

"Well," he says to Hob, remembering from 1789 that this is clearly how one telegraphs sexual interest between them and ready to put it to smashing good use. "Ready to get out of here to a... DIFFERENT PUB?"

Hob Gadling stares at his -- well, boyfriend isn't the right word, but something like that. Sighs deeply. He reaches up and removes the glasses. Dream still looks like a pasty rained-on twat without them, but you know. His pasty rained-on twat. Who doesn't need any weird accessories or murderous vibes for Hob to like him just the way he is.

"Love," Hob says gently. He really, really wants to laugh, but Dream is trying so hard, it is absolutely adorable, and he has always believed in the power of positive reinforcement. "Why don't we back up and try this all over again."

[falloutjay]

Can you please do Mysterion falling in love with a Civilian reader?

I was done much faster than expected honestly!

And Im pretty happy with my outcome and I hope so are you. I love Mysterion/ Kenny and was super happy to see a request for him, so thank you for that! (ɔ◔︣‿◔︣)ɔ ❤

________________________________

Mysterion x civillian!reader

“Stretch here….Ah….And a stretch there…Ha..” A deep voice mumbled. The tall and hooded figure enjoyed the newfound relieve and his eyes wandered once more over the streets below him.

Just an hour and Toolshed would take over.

Tonight, the hero known as Mysterion was bored out of his mind. Nothing really happened. No robberies. No drunk people causing problems. Not even a little bit of arguing.

He was happy of course, that nothing happened means that they did their job well. But a five-hour shift of just looking out and being on guard if anything happens can be annoying from time to time. Kenny, his civilian name, was just done for tonight.

He had this horrible headache, that came back ever so often after an especially violent fight with his arch nemesis Professor Chaos.

His body longed for a good long sleep and he was even a little hungry.

Oh, how he would kill for that half-eaten Bagel that was in the fridge at the hero hideout.

“Focus.” Mysterion reminded himself again and took a deep breath.

“Toolshed will be here soon, then we can sleep. We do this for Karen.” Just thinking about his little sister helped him regain control of his wandering thoughts and to get a better look at the city below him, he sat down at the edge of the building he was on and let his legs dangle in the air.

The streets looked so peaceful at… Blue eyes scanned the smartwatch display… 1 in the morning already.

Lazily, but still attentively those same blue eyes wandered from left to right and right to left, taking in everything that was going on, which wasn’t much. Just some people chatting her and there since he was close to the bars and clubs of the city.

Nothing of interest until a person caught his eye. They were young and seemingly alone, walking at a quick pace and looking somewhat out of place as they didn’t look like your typical party goer.

So naturally the hero was intrigued. He carefully got up and followed the young person that walked on the streets below.

Elegantly he jumped from rooftop to rooftop to keep up with the somewhat fast person he followed.

He didn’t do this because he was some kind of creep, but his gut feeling told him this was the right thing. Something seemed fishy and his gut had never disappointed him before.

And it really never disappointed him before, but he felt like an idiot after five more minutes of following. Maybe for once his gut was wrong? It looked like they arrived at their home and tried unlocking their door.

Mysterion let out a sigh, questioning if Toolshed had maybe already arrived? Just as he was about to turn around, he heard a commotion from below.

He peeked over the edge and the person he was following was now pressed against the door they had tried to open. Some tall man held them there and looked rather angry.

“I will never doubt you again.” Mysterion mumbled as he got ready to jump down. He landed as quiet as a cat and approached the two.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N. Why were you there?”

“Like I said, I just went and got my books back. Stop following me or I will call the police.”

“Don’t try to bullshit me, dipshit.”

“Leave them alone.” Mysterion now called out and stood firm just a few feet away.

“Wha-” The man mumbled, letting go of the other person. He now approached the hero and mustered him.

“What kind of clown are you?” He said and got all up in Mysterions face. The blonde could easily smell the alcohol in his breath as he asked the question.

“The only clown I see is you.” Mysterion growled, trying to look as intimidating as he could.

Which he did with ease.

The man scoffed, looking at the person he had followed one more time before leaving angrily.

Mysterion approached the still shocked person leaning on their door. “You alright?” Now Mysterions had the time to properly look at their face and he felt warm inside, despite the cold air.

“Yeah, I’m okay, thanks to you. Thank you for getting rid of him.” The blonde loved the sound of their voice. Wow, it sounded so brilliant and lovely in his ears.

“Who was that anyway?” Mysterion questioned as the person opened the door.

“My stupid jealous ex. It has been over for ages now, but he just keeps bugging me. I was picking up some book from my study buddy and he must have gone crazy.”

“Glad to hear he is an ex.” Mysterion said charmingly, a confident smile on his lips. “Yeah, me too.” The person kept standing there, not making a move to actually go inside just yet.

“May I know your name?” Mysterion asked. “It is Y/N. May I know my saviors name?” They asked, cocking their head and with a bright smile on their face.

“Mysterion.”

“You’re one of those heroes who watches over the town right? Like in the comics?” The hero laughed. His smokey voice was like a bittersweet melody in Y/N ears.

“Pretty much yeah.”

“That’s so cool honestly. That I would get a hero’s help someday… How lucky I must be. Maybe we will see each other again, Mysterion?” “I sure hope so. Good night, Y/N.”

Mysterion said, turning around to climb up a drainpipe to get back on the roofs. “Good night, Mysterion!” Y/N called out before disappearing inside.

Up on the roof, the hero could finally let go of his super serious façade and immediately he bit his lip. Normally he had no trouble keeping his civilian persona and Mysterion separate but goddamn that Y/N?

They actually had him stumble over his thoughts for a second.

“Okay, lets meet up with Toolshed and then we are fine.” He said to himself and quickly went on his way.

 A gloved hand went through golden locks and a dreamy sigh escaped pale peach lips. The owner of said things almost jumped up in surprise when a hand slammed down on his desk.

That hand belonged to a fellow superhero, named Human Kite. The most serious hero they had in their organization.

“Okay, what’s going on? You’re getting sick? Got shot? You’re not focused at all Mystery.” “Stop with that nickname or I’m gotta start calling you Human.”

“Fine…Fine.” The Human Kite said and sat on Mysterions desk. “I’m fine though, thanks for asking. I just had had an interesting encounter.” The redhaired hero raised an eyebrow.

“The high and mighty, super serious Mysterion is actually smiling and lost in thought? Must have been someone special…”

“I think…” Mysterion started and looked around, biting his lip. “I think I met my Mary-Jane or Lois Lane.” With a smug expression Mysterion looked up to the redhead.

“Damn, really? Must have been a real beauty, because I only know you as this super serious dude who everyone fears when they first see you.”

Mysterion leaned back in his chair, laughing. “Trust me, they are. Pretty h/c-colored hair, stunning e/c eyes and a body to die for.” Human Kite almost fell of the desk laughing.

“They really got ya. Better hope they like you too and are willing to be your Mary-Jane.” Kite chuckled, got up and walked away.

“Ah, come on, instead of being jealous I found someone pretty, go suck Toolshed’s dick. We all know you want it!”

Kite gave him the middle finger before leaving the facility. “You know it’s the truth.”

Mysterion shrugged, a big smile plastered across his face. Mosquito, who overheard the conversation over from his desk eyed Mysterion as he out his feet up.

“So, any plan in mind now, bsss?” He asked and looked over.

“I actually do, my Mosquito friend.”

 Y/N was on their way home. It has been an exhausting day. Right now, they just wanted to get home, lay on the couch and sleep. While searching for their keys, they felt like they were being watched.

“Come on, not today…” They mumbled, sincerely hoping their ex would not bother them today. Y/N quickly opened their mailbox, snatched the letters, and went inside, feeling relieved as soon as they got to sit on the couch.

After a few minutes, which they used to decompress, they looked through the mail.

“Bill, advertisement, trash, bill…Huh?” A blank envelope was left and curiously, Y/N opened it.

Their e/c eyes scanned over the neatly written words and immediately their inside felt all fuzzy and warm.

 “Dear Y/N,

I am not a man of many words nor can I write good letters.

But I have to say, I can’t get you out of my mind. My colleagues are already bullying me for it, saying you’re my Lois Lane or Mary-Jane.

If you would like to see me again, come to the old building next to the Raisins tomorrow night. I’ll be there at midnight, waiting for you.

M?”

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddle—and say you also had magic?

Oh boy.

Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.

For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.

Welp, there's a lot to consider here.

First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.

Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.

What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.

The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.

Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.

Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.

I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.

Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...

Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.

And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".

He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protégé (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).

I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.

Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?

Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.

Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.

Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.

I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks aren’t everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magic’s probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.

I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the world’s worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.

Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?

Probably not because I’m muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I can’t imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.

Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. “Gee Tom,” I say, “Not sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why don’t we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?”

No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesn’t mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. That’s code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.

Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.

Well, there’s no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it we’re all each other has.

I’m the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while it’s not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and there’s no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart won’t help.

Not to mention that, after all these years, I’m undoubtedly lonely, I’m in this foreign land, and he’s now the closest thing to a friend I have.

Looks like I’m going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. I’m not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but I’m full of ambition. 

This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.

For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tom’s tactics to make sure I’m not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pig’s blood dumped on me at the prom.

Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I don’t even know if they’re wrong at this point.

Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine I’m bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.

Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really don’t care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesn’t happen.

The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so that’s a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how they’ve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.

Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.

(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. He’s told no exceptions. London’s being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)

Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then we’ll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.

But hey, we aren’t dead.

Well, I’m sure Tom doesn’t appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isn’t impressed by my pacifism, but he’s not married to Voldemort yet (probably).

Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.

What is a soul? I’m not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.

If you must chase immortality, create a philosopher’s stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldn’t be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.

Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. I’m going to say that I can, in part because I imagine he’ll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes he’s Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, there’s no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, I’ll go with him and convince him that it’s not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.

I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but it’s worth a shot).

Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.

Dumbledore goes around taking people’s memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.

TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

rebellion

apparently i am making a trend of writing one fic without any set characters every year for wij...anyway neither of these dudes has a name or like. anything going on but here they are...idk how this got so long lmao. but tbh i had a nice time writing it, hope you enjoy!

It’s the smallest act of rebellion that does him in. Up until that point, he’d been more or less cooperating, answering questions with what he’d hoped was a convincing blend of truth and lies. They’d barely even hit him, apparently satisfied with simply talking the answers out of him. 

And then they’d told him to give them a last name and an address. For a person he’d made up on the spot perhaps twenty minutes ago. 

He sits there stock-still for several seconds, and then it’s too late to answer. He’s sure if he says anything now they’ll know it’s a lie. So he shakes his head and keeps his mouth shut. 

“I said, last name and address. Now.”

The vague sense of panic that’s been thrumming through his veins since he was grabbed off the street and brought…wherever the hell it is that he is, spikes. He can’t think. Can’t answer. And honestly? He doesn’t want to. He’s sick and tired of this. He has no idea what these people are after, why they want him. Why should he cooperate?

He shakes his head. 

“Fine. Have it your way.”

A fist slams into his stomach and he doubles over as much as his restraints will allow. He groans and then the fist connects with the center of his face. His nose feels like it’s on fire and his eyes start to water and fuck, that hurts. 

The next punch is the hardest yet, delivered to the underside of his jaw. It makes his head snap backwards and it hurts and suddenly he’s not just afraid. He’s angry. 

There’s blood in his mouth. He doesn’t know when it got there. He spits it on the floor and grins with bloody teeth. 

“Name and address.”

“Fuck you.”

The punches keep coming. Over and over, head, chest, stomach, arms, even the legs once or twice. He can barely breathe for how much it hurts. He has no idea how much time passes, how many hits he takes, how many people are there with him. 

All he knows is the pain. He wishes he had answered. He wishes they’d ask him again so he can refuse to speak. So he can answer readily. He wishes he had the energy to spit the blood still filling his mouth at them. 

Mostly, he just wishes he hadn’t left his apartment today. 

There’s a loud clattering sound. He almost doesn’t hear it above the ringing in his ears and the sound of fists against skin. 

Everyone else has no trouble hearing it. There’s a sudden flurry of activity and then nobody is hurting him and he’d collapse in relief if he wasn’t tied up. 

Something strikes him over the head, harder than a fist and with a clang, and everything goes dark. 

--

He wakes up and someone is touching him. For a moment he panics and tries to get away, but then he realizes that this person isn’t hurting him. The hands are gentle and touching his wrists, his ankles. They’re untying him. 

He opens his eyes and finds himself in complete darkness. He wonders if he’s lost his vision somehow. 

He moves a little as the ropes around his wrists come undone and his arms shift back into their natural positions. 

“You awake?” someone asks. It’s not a voice he recognizes. 

He nods. There’s no response. Maybe it’s just dark in here. “Yeah,” he says, the word grating against his vocal cords. 

“You’re almost free. Just a couple seconds…”

The ropes around his ankles slide away. He immediately tries to stand, desperate to get out of this goddamn chair, but his legs buckle beneath him and he’s falling and then he’s not. 

Someone catches him around the middle and he hasn’t hit the ground but it hurts so much he might as well have. A noise that’s half whimper, half groan escapes him. 

“Sorry,” says the owner of the arms. “I know that hurts, but hitting the floor would’ve hurt worse.”

“Who’re you?” he asks, his voice no more than a whisper. 

“A friend.”

“I don’t…know you.”

“Enemy of my enemy, yeah?”

“Whose enemy?”

“Never mind. Come with me.”

Even with this guy’s arms around him, his legs are shaking. There’s no way he’s walking out of here. Besides, he thinks, given how bad he feels, perhaps an ambulance might be in order? 

“Can’t,” is how he chooses to convey this information. 

He hopes this will convince his…whoever this guy is…to do the reasonable thing and call for help, but all he gets is, “it’s alright, I’ve got you,” and before he has time to wonder what that means, he’s being picked up, really rather delicately, and then they’re moving. 

At first, he doesn’t even register that they’re outside. He’s half-conscious and everything is bouncing around and his eyes want to stay closed, anyway. But then he opens them and sees the moon above him, half-full and brilliantly white. 

He must lose consciousness for some amount of time, because he opens his eyes and doesn’t remember having closed them. He’s inside and it’s bright, almost painfully so. There’s something soft beneath him and a sort of rummaging noise coming from someplace he can’t see. 

He looks around as his eyes adjust to the light. He’s in an apartment, small and clean and cozy. There’s a small dining table with mismatched chairs and a new-looking TV and a coffee table laden with books and magazines and a lamp that looks like it belongs in his grandmother’s house. He’s in someone’s home. 

The someone in question is suddenly standing in front of him, and he gets his first view of his rescuer. 

The man is average height, brown hair and green eyes and a couple days’ worth of stubble. His gray t-shirt is spotted with blood and there are holes and grease stains on his jeans. There’s a frankly massive first aid kit in his arms and despite the severity of this situation, his face has a calm, though determined, look to it. 

“I'm gonna patch you up,” the man explains, and, well. He had been able to figure that one out on his own. 

“Why…no hospital?” he asks at last, even as he carefully drags himself up into a sitting position. 

“I’ll explain when you’re not bleeding on my couch.”

“Okay.”

“Try to relax, alright? This isn’t going to feel pleasant, but it’ll be better if you’re not freaked out. Not that I blame you for that. Just…trust me, okay?”

Weirdly, he does. He tries to relax as best as he can, and the patching up begins. 

The man’s hands are rough but sure, firm but gentle. One holds his face while the other dabs a cotton ball soaked in disinfectant against numerous cuts and scrapes. 

“Your nose isn’t broken, in case you were wondering. Just bloody. You’ve got the beginnings of a pretty intense black eye, though.”

He nods. Good news, he supposes. How in the hell has that become good news? he wonders, vaguely.

There’s a flashlight being shone in his eyes. He blinks hard, tries to look away. The hand on his face stops him.

“Just a second more, sorry.”

He stares into the light and feels his eyes begin to water.

“I don’t think you have a concussion. Let me know if your head starts to feel weird at all, okay?”

“Okay.” That he can do. He has had a concussion before, after all. He knows what it feels like. Somewhat shockingly, this doesn’t feel like that.

The hand leaves his face. He kind of wishes it had stayed. “Can you take off your shirt?”

Even before he tries to move his arms, he knows the answer. 

“Hope you’re not particularly attached to it, then.”

He isn’t, really. The other man swiftly cuts it away with a pair of scissors that are shockingly cold against his skin. 

He has no idea what his face looks like, but he can look down and see the injuries to his torso in all their glory. There’s a large, bleeding gash down his left side - and he has no idea where that came from - and he’s bruised to all hell everywhere else. 

It’s more painful when he looks at it. He looks away, flinches when a new cotton ball touches the bloody wound on his side. 

“I don’t think this needs stitches. It’s long, not deep.”

He nods. His head spins. He blinks to clear away the dizziness. 

“There’s not much else I can do, medically speaking. I’ve got painkillers and clean clothes and food and a bed.”

That’s…a slightly overwhelming list of things. First things first, though. 

“Painkillers sound great.”

“I thought they might. You allergic to anything?”

“No.”

“Be right back.”

The man disappears down a short hallway into what he assumes is the bathroom. He looks down at his torso again and forces himself to keep looking. 

It’s fairly awful. It hurts. He’s exhausted. Half of him wants to scream until he loses his voice. The other half wants to sob. 

The man comes back with a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water. He shakes two pills into his palm and hands them over. 

They feel horrible going down his throat, but the water feels wonderful. He drinks it all, nearly chokes on it. 

The glass is carefully pried from his hand. “I’ll get you some more. Want anything to eat with it? I’ve got tomato soup or frozen burritos or bagels or I can order something, whatever you want.”

“I’m…okay.”

“Suit yourself.” The man goes into the kitchen, which is half-visible from the couch. The window above the sink filters moonlight through a suncatcher. There’s a small plant beside the soap dispenser. Its pot is painted with polka dots. 

“I’m going to get you some clothes,” the man says, and his voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from the kitchen. Because it’s not. Suddenly he’s there, glass of water in hand. He sets it down atop the coffee table, in easy reach, and goes back down the little hallway. 

He returns seconds later with a pile of clothes in his arms.

“We’re about the same size, so hopefully these will fit. I can help, if you need.”

There’s no point in refusing the help, not now. He nods once, and then a shirt is pulled over his head, impossibly soft. Together, they wriggle him out of his pants, exposing more bruises but thankfully no blood. The sweatpants are equally soft and a bit too long. They feel well-worn. They’re comfortable in a way that extends beyond the feeling of the fabric. 

“Why’re you…doing this?”

The man looks at him, almost surprised. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You don’t even know me.”

“You were hurt. They were hurting you.”

“Why?” That’s the real question, isn’t it? Why had they taken him in the first place? What had he done, failed to do? Why him?

“I wish I could tell you. I’ll tell you everything I do know, later. Once you’ve gotten some sleep.”

He can’t argue against that. He’s never been this tired in his whole life. He moves to get comfortable on the couch, but is stopped with a hand to his shoulder. 

“This couch’ll hurt your back, trust me. You’ll take my bed.”

“No, I can’t -”

“You’re going to.”

The man picks him up and pulls him to his feet before he can say another word. He sways, but not as badly as before. Still, the man all but carries him into the bedroom, which is small but comfortable and distinctly belongs to someone. 

He can’t take this guy’s room. 

“I can’t take your room.”

“Of course you can.”

They stop beside the bed, and the man lets go of him with one arm to pull back the comforter. 

“It’s your bed.”

“And?”

And I’m a stranger you found bruised and bleeding and tied to a chair. And I probably got blood on your couch and definitely got it on your shirt and what if I bleed on your sheets, too? And you’ve shown me so much kindness even though you don’t know me at all and I don’t know what to do with that but I definitely can’t kick you out of your bed. 

All he says is, “the couch will hurt your back.”

“I’ll live.”

“I’ll take the couch.”

The man gives him a small push, and then he’s on the bed and it’s soft and warm and he can’t - he doesn’t know what to do with this, with this bed and these clothes and this man and this kindness. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the man sinks down onto the bed beside him and says, “hey, hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, are you okay?”

And he’s not, but he is, and it’s all just - it’s a lot, and he’s tired and more than a little delirious, and the next thing he knows he’s fairly sobbing and the man wraps his arms around him, so gentle it barely hurts, and he cries on this stranger’s shoulder until he falls asleep. 

--

When he wakes, hours later, there is soft sunlight peeking through the curtains and a warm presence behind him and a steady, sure hand wrapped loosely around his waist.

thanks for reading! i hope you liked this :) it was fun writing this but also a challenge bc i didn't want to give anyone a name but they're both dudes so i felt like it might be hard to tell who is who. hopefully that didn't make reading this too difficult tho. love ya and have a good night/whatever time of day it is!

[frenchfrywrites]

Ok so I was thinking of what they would do if they were to be ghosts and they find themselves having a crush on the new owner of the place they inhabit--

I think Levi would be a very shy ghost, who was so glad that the previous owners left so he had the entire house for himself. Now he can do anything he wants and be alone and not have to interact with others!! Yay!! Except there's a new owner. I think he would be shyly spying on you, trying to figure out who this new person is and what their intentions are and accidentally dropping stuff as he passes through the house. (He drops a glass on the floor. You scream. He screams. None of you expected it.)

I also think he's so used to grabbing things and misplacing them he wouldn't even realize he is lowkey freaking you out.

He would be so perverted too, if you thought Luci watching you shower was bad wait until you hear about Levi, he's a whole ass freak. He watches you piss 😭😭. He's like "Woah!! That's so cool, I wonder if it's warm! *tries to touch the stream and ends up smearing it all over you/the wall*"

MC: 😑

Okay but when you bring the ouija and try to ask him if he is going to hurt you (you have a feeling he won't but you might as well ask), he's so self conscious!! He's also super ashamed of his freakiness. You ask him if he was who dropped the shampoo. He starts "S-O-R-R-Y. I-M. S-O. G-R-O-S-S-H-J-K-L-U-P-YES-NO-A-B-A-S-K-D-K-L-J..." and next thing you know the ouija is flying outside the window like a goddamn Frisbee. Ghost equivalent of a keysmash.

OMG AND WHAT IF HE DIED IN AN ARCADE. First of all: OOF. Second of all, that would be so funny though. You work the night guard shift an arcade, and you think it's a normal job until every friday at 12 am one of the games starts playing itself. (what is this? FNAF? i know.)

It's the oldest game of the arcade and the one almost nobody plays and it's playing itself almost perfectly, so you think the game is just not functioning anymore. Until you see the game ??? lose ??? on itself ??? and then something is thrown on the floor and you get shivers down your spine, someone screams "FUCK THIS SHIT!". And, oh god, is the game possessed?!

No. Leviathan just ragequits after losing.

Eventually after meeting him he asks you to play the game for him because his fingers are too ghost-like to properly press the buttons!! You make one (1!!) mistake and he's mad at you and you're just like. Bro I just work here😑.

ANYWAY anyway here is page 1/190 of my thoughts.

- ♟💙

ohhh my god if you chose to give me more, I cannot wait for your continued thoughts, because already I'm obsessed.

Levi would be such a shy ghost!!

Every thing he does is a complete accident and he freaks out as much as you do. Like every scare has been wildly unintentional. I'm sure the first few weeks are hard for both of you, as he'll forget you've moved in and just behave as usual. But once he does fully register your presence you're all he thinks about.

Definitely watches you all the time, gets off on stuff that you do, then cries because he's so self deprecating around his perversions. You'd piss and then 5 minutes later there's moaning, and a little later a sobbing sound is coming from one of your empty rooms.. safe to say you're terrified lmao. He'd also try to touch you, but since he's shy and scared his hands feel very soft and light causing you to question if there really were arms wrapping around you or are you going insane.

OBSESSED with Levi keysmashing the Ouija board. It takes forever to get a solid response out of him. He'd be swinging the planchette around wildly and throwing it around the room accidently when he gets too nervous. It'd be far better to have him possess your laptop and talk to him through a google doc or something.

I also love the idea of Levi haunting an arcade. I'm sure he's played every game in there, making the owners go crazy because they think their games are breaking constantly. I think your first experience watching him rage quit would be pretty frightening so imagine you find safety in the bathroom or something, from there you hear things get quiet (when he realizes he's upset you), and eventually you come out of your little safe haven and there's a bunch of stuffed animals from the claw machine where you normally sit as a little apology from Levi 😭💖

[4dtk]

based on a lil discussion with me and @moonboohoo btw this is a little ooc since sukuna is a cat lol. enjoy!

[yuji is typing...]

oh my godddd you're ordering food? i want food too wtf

anyway. i hear u about your problem. why not just ask the first person you see when you get back home?

[(y/n) is typing...]

you want me to ask my cat??????

[yuji is typing...]

oh no not the cat, that feline is the devil himself im sure

the person delivering your food, ask them!!! maybe they'd be willing to give you a chance

[(y/n) is typing...]

hey!!!! :( dont be mean to sukuna :((

your maine coon curls up against you as you flop down on the couch with phone in hand, the other switching on the television with not much thought. your hand naturally strokes the cat's fur, jumping channels from one to the next in boredom as you wait for the delivery.

sukuna's purring carry on even when the doorbell is rung, accepting the food with a smile and careful hands. when you don't return, however, the cat perks up in curiosity, seeing the familiar twirl of your hair around your fingers as you engage in a conversation with the person at your door.

"so... is tomorrow okay?" you ask, tired of waiting for the perfect partner to come and sweep you off your feet. the other goes to answer, but sukuna interrupts before they can, hissing with the swishing of his bushy tail. it's as if he was a human himself, staring down at the delivery person despite the massive height difference.

"ah, s..sorry," you rush to place the food down, picking up the majestic cat into your arms to cradle him, "my cat's pretty aggressive to strangers."

"we could always reschedule it?" they say, shrugging their shoulders, "doesn't look like your cat wants me in the house if i were to come over tomorrow."

you smile apologetically, "'m sorry again."

they wave a hand, both in goodbye and dismissal of your apology for such a trivial thing.

the cat descends from your arms gracefully, walking off like he hadn't just cost you a future partner. as sukuna prances off, you roll your eyes at his dramatics, reaching for the food before finally settling down in front of the television again. at least now you had a purpose of going channel surfing.

it wasn't a very productive day, clocking out at an early 11pm to get ready for tomorrow. scrolling through social media was your favourite pastime, slotting in a bit of 'me' time before succumbing to sleep with sukuna snuggled up against your side. 

the next morning wasn't merciful; with its bright rays shining through the window and the annoying construction going on from across the street, you could almost feel your annoyance levels rising before you got the morning routine.

"she wanted to invite them into the house? thank god i swooped in before they could agree. what right do they have to hang with (y/n)?"

what's worse is there was murmuring just at the foot of your bed, the pacing of their footsteps deemed too loud by your groggy, grumpy self.

wait.

"who's there?!" your shout catches the attention of the male, hand pointing at the owner of the noisy-ass footsteps with fear.

his messy pink hair was enough to catch your attention, but the tattoos littered across his arms and face was enough to make you gasp. you keep your mouth shut when he looks you over with red eyes, meeting yours with a tilt of his head. it's a sukuna habit, even when he's a human.

"who... are you?"

"seriously?" he asks unimpressed, crossing his arms over his exposed chest.

"sukuna!" you jolt in surprise at your missing cat, "sukuna?"

there's genuine concern and confusion when you repeat his name for the third time, coming to terms that he might really be in front of you.

"s...ukuna?" you whisper in caution, inching towards him as he keeps his eyebrow raised at your clueless state. tracing your hand across his carefully drawn tattoos was the first thing you did before moving on to his unkempt pink hair and mouth, where he still possessed his canine teeth.

he recoils as part of instinct, an uncharacteristic blush appearing on his face.

you overlook his behaviour but instead groan, falling back into the bed behind you in panic from the situation you've just encountered. your head comes up to gaze at the other, frustrated that he hasn't gone away after slapping your face, blinking your eyes or even falling off the bed.

"fuck. so you're real then."

"tch, then what am i? am i not matter, a material that constitutes the observable universe and, together with energy, forms the basis of all objective phenomena?"

you blow a raspberry, "did you get that from my science notes? god, whatever, let's get you some clothes."

luckily, with your wide array of oversized shirts, you were able to dress him decently. despite your confusion, you still were very interested to know how he came to be in your small apartment. with a skilled hand, you brew some coffee for the both of you, handing him a steaming hot cup after a few minutes.

"i change every night," sukuna says nonchalantly, immediately spitting out the bitter drink in repulsion.

he makes a disgusted face, “what the fuck is this?”

you deadpan, "really? all over my floor?"

getting up, your hands reach for the paper towels to clean up the mess that your cat-turned-human made, cringing at the way the paper towel turns brown with the immediate soak-up.

“but this is the first time i’ve struggled to change back. i’m not sure how i do it normally, but jeez, drinking your goddamn coffee makes me wish i was a cat again.”

with each passing minute, he gets on your nerves and by now, he’s shoved the drink back to you. standing up, he stretches his muscles like how he usually does in the mornings, allowing for every part of his toned body to show itself.

there goes the annoyance...

"well, i can't say i'm not attracted either..." you mutter to yourself, gulping down the extra cup before placing them in the sink. the laptop you frequent makes its way onto your lap not so long later, bringing up a essay due in the next week. you decided to start early this time and made sure to pace yourself, trying to rule out the last minute rushes you always settled for.

an arm encircles around your waist, taking you by surprise when you let out a squeak. sukuna is nuzzling himself into your arm while you try to frantically delete the out-of-topic sentence that was making its way onto the word doc.

"what are you doing?"

"morning routine," he simply says, laying his tongue on you without any warning.

"oh god, sukuna, no!" you groan, pushing him away from his tight grip on you like he usually does when his body is propped against your chest. you've woken up too many times, struggling to breathe because of his weight.

he retreats reluctantly, really wishing he was a cat again as he grunts at your behaviour.

"have it your way," sukuna mumbles, his naturally grumpy self amplified by your rejection. you thought back to the times your maine coon normally sat beside you quietly, basking in the way your fingers typed on the keyboard.

what could be any different? plus, you'd have a reciprocation of your head pats.

there's a tug on the other's wrist, "you can lay. just no- no licking, okay?"

you almost scoff at the sukuna rolls his eyes, but his actions betray him anyways because he's laid down beside you, curling into your side as he places his head into your stomach.

the desktop's illumination shines brighter than the morning's rays, hypnotising sukuna into a slumber as you play with his hair.

you wouldn't have noticed the male if he hadn't introduced himself, but his brash personality matched your cat too closely, knowing you were the only one he'd show affection to despite the constant hissing and glares he sent to your friends.

a gentle grasp of his hand snaps you out of your thoughts, bringing back memories of the way he'll lay his paw on you, even during the first time where you met him in the animal shelter.

sukuna stays peaceful throughout his sleep, pink hair slowly becoming messier the more he cuddled into your person. he was content now, at least, as you read over the essay to correct any mistakes.

it lulls him in and out of consciousness, stuck between wanting to hear your tender voice and relishing being embraced in his sleep.

either way, he was positive he wanted to spend the rest of his cat (or human) life with you.

[kallikrein]

TOKREV 230 THOUGHTS

i’m gonna put it all down before i go to sleep and hope that i get to dream bd founder waka tonight cause why not?? lmfksk so anyway, excuse my grammar ahahaha

THE BLACK DRAGONS FIRST GENERATION EVERYONE <3 they look so, so glorious pls. uniting the whole kanto region with the ‘god of war’ by your side, two former gang leaders finally befriending each other and making them your own attack unit ugh shinichiro is really the goat!!

THE PARALLELS?? i’m sobbing, both baji and takeomi being the dark haired childhood friend to the sano brothers. ngl tho, takeomi looks like baby hakkai hahah

shinichiro seems like a good kid ever since. and he deserved better, damn it. i think it’s so funny that mikey wonders why shinichiro does what he does. cause his dark impulse can’t understand /j

SHUT UP WAKA. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO PRETTY WITH THAT MESSY HAIR AND BIZARRE EARRING ON?? YOU DIDN’T EVEN HOLD BACK LMAO. AND WDYM HE’S WEAK WHEN IT COMES TO WOMEN? SO YOU AREN’T THEN?? HAHHSHSHS

it’s so heartwarming to see benwaka smiling like this. it’s so genuine and tbh, i wanna see more of their interaction with shin <3

i spy with my little eye a thing that starts with the letter b. yep, it’s their lfmkdjs bikes. i wanna see them…driving it. when will it be ken-sensei? i need to see waka riding his bike ehehe. i wonder how takeomi got his scar tho cause in this panel, he still doesn’t have it.

like i said, shinichiro is such a good man. grandpa sano brought him up well. and here we have takeomi having his scar. i’m really curious as to how he got it. was it from a fight with other gangs? or the famous theory that it was sanzu’s doing? hmm

aha! hearts have been broken tonight because of this. takeomi knows his way around women, while shinichiro can’t relate cause he’s … yeah ;-;

SENJU OMG WHAT A BADDIE?!?!?! she knows her own strength, confident enough to proclaim she wanted to take down the invincible mikey. if that doesn’t speak girl boss, idk what else will. such an inspiration!!

THESE TWO MFERS ISTG I’M shaking crying screaming BECAUSE HELLO, GYM OWNERS BENWAKA?? YES GODDAMN PLEASE.

wakasa being a full blonde with a lil tied up hair atop his head plus his nonchalant posture… sir let me be a member in your gym…damn. i swear i will exercise as fuck lmao.

also them training senju. best stepdads for real.

[ i got way past the 10-image limit and i’m really frustrated ]

i really felt takeomi on a different level tho because of tonight’s chapter. being an adult, steering control of your own life is extremely hard. sometimes it’s actually fun like “oh nvm yolo”, but often times it’s really “where am i going with this” hard ahshshs so that scene where the brahman was initially formed, and takeomi swearing to be a better person really spoke out to me lmgksks

but of course he forgot again when brahman became huge. it’s okay. we all make mistakes. we’re just humans after all.

i liked that he remembered his own purpose now. it’s the best feeling ever, and that the people around him (wakasa and benkei) still accepted his weakness even senju, his sister who is much younger than him, does too. she’s already mature for her age, love that for her.

i just wish that senju could take down the titan that is terano south unharmed. also benwaka please be safe, no one is allowed to follow draken’s fate ;-; </3

[zuffer-weird-girl]

A villain is always a villain.

LISTEN. THERE IS SO MANY TRIGGER ON THIS THERE IS NO HAPPY ENDING OR NO FLUFF I SWEAR IS PURE ROTTEN ANGST DONT READ IT.

"I'm sorry sir. But even with your quirk, your wife would suffer immense pain over the procedure and die on the bed.... and... my sincerity apologizes... but she's got only one week."

He couldn't exactly describe what he felt when those words from the doctor left his mouth and arrived to his ears. He didn't had even know when he had overhauled his gloves and the chair he was in making him fall on the ground and come back to his senses...

Everything... was falling apart. If he was only fast enough to get the symptoms appearing... he could have prevented, it would have caused you an huge amount of pain but at least you would've have survived.

Why hadn't he noticed it?

Because he was living his dream.

Because you two married. Had beautiful moments together... and just about one year and a half ago had a son. A health kid.

He was happy. He even talked about it with Pops, and the old man suggested for him to leave the Hassaikai for a while to raise his kid on a peaceful environment, but he refused. Knowing Pops hadn't had any contact with that good for nothing daughter of his neither the possible granddaughter he had. So he could give the man some of his immensely gratitude towards him.

But suddenly... everything was falling apart.

First it was the frequent coughing, even your baby was worried but soon you waved them off saying it was just a cold. Chisaki fooled himself on believing on that.

After all he was so happy.

Then, your voice started to change to a more forced and rough one. He started to worry but no, no... his perfect wife, such a angel, couldn't be on any danger... it was just a flu. He would take care of her.

Despite having germophobia, his love for you was just as strong. He wore masks and gloves, sure, but he still was willing to spend time on the same room and give you the comfort you needed.

Then it happened... one day on his office... he heard the coughing fit and suddenly a loud crying from hsi son made him storm out of his office to find you on the ground, a paper close to your hand covered in blood.

He never drove so fast on his life to the hospital.

And now... there he was, staring at the ground as he clinched on his wife's weak hand on the bed with the machines attached to her. His son, as innocent as ever was playing with his mother fingers.

The chemotherapy wasn't enough. The quirks from teh doctors couldn't help her, he couldn't help her...

The nurses came in and told that visit time was over... he had to drag his sobbing and crying two years old out of the room.

His tears were falling as well, but he had to be strong. He had to be the oen who had to be a pillar for his own child.

Pops had to be the oen explaining to Kan the situation and why his father seemed so sad and distant. The kid entered his office at night, sniffling and looking at his father's eyes with his (E/c).

Kan cried himself to sleep on his father chest, and Kai didn't mind it the snot or tears on his messed up black dress shirt. The documents on his desk were soaked with his own tears anyway.

"You're making a big deal about this." Your weak voice interrupted his memories and he scowled at your weak serene expression and smile.

"Dont. Not with this." He murmured as he watched his son give his painting to his mom... he wiped your tears away as you hugged your Kan, kissing his dark brow hair as the little boy murmured his love for you.

At the next day at the evening you let out your last breath and he cried and screamed on the bed until his voice was gone.

.

.

.

"You have to sleep boss." He heard Chrono as he blinked, the bags under his eyes were huge as he sighed.

"I can't. I need to go after those debtors of the drugs and then take care of Kan. He hadn't been eating very well since..." he couldn't help but almost choke up at remembering.

"... how about this? I go after them? Spend time with my favorite nephew."

"... you have some of my gratitude Chronostasis. Dont let the old man know about this, he would never stop talking about it. We need the money and the respect we need."

"Got it."

"And dont call my son your nephew. Is disgusting." He spoke while exiting the office as Kurono snorted.

"I am his godfather though."

He sighed as he hot upstairs and found Kan with equal sad and depressed eyes as his starting at a frame he held with his tiny fingers.

"Kan." The kid gasped and put the frame back and bowed to his father with a sniffle "... come on. I guess, both of us could use some rest."

Kan simply nodded and followed his father but was surprised to see Kai picked him up and brought him to sleep by his side.

.

.

.

He felt something stiring on his side and saw his son leaving the bed.

"Bathroom." Kan muttered as Kai nodded and got up only to stop at hearing "No da. I go, you sleep."

This kid reminded him so much of you with this goddamn kindness.

He waited a few minutes until he got up and followed the kid, enough to not make a appearance and give his son some confidence but he still had only two years.

... or maybe he just didn't felt like leaving his son alone.

But just as he entered the hall he felt something hitting the back of his head hard enough to make him fall face plant on the ground.

"Restrains his hands! His quirk can kill you with one finger of his on your skin!" He heard a voice and immeditaly recognize one of the debtors, and also someone caging his hands on a manner he couldn't even move them.

Must be some sort of dicease.

"Now, mister sucessor." A man with a missed tooth crouched down to his level and grabbed his hair to lift his head to his eye level "We could use some of negotiating eh?"

He only glared at the man before he muffled his scream of pain when the guy slammed his face on the floor hard enough to make a bruise.

"Cooperate with us and then we will get out of here. You give the drugs and leave us with our money with a bit of yours, and no one gets hurt."

"Go.. to hell-ARGH-!" Something pierced his abdomen hard enough to blood to spill and land on the floor.

This had to happened when Chrono had to get all the guards to collect cash and Pops on a damn convention, of course.

"Wrong answer yakuza. I'm gonna make it simple for ya, where is the money you all have?"

"If you think I will give you information..." he hissed at the knife piercing more "Then you must be just as dumb as your parents on the thought of making you, you sick bastard."

His head was slammed on the ground and it was enough to break his nose... just as the guy was about to slam it again a sound of a door creaking open made his eyes snap wide open and look at the figurine with equal wide eyes and clutching the door at seeing his father layed on the ground.

"K-K..Kan...." he eyed his son in fear as sweat and hives started to appear on his skin.

"Daddy?" Kan muttered in fear and the man was smilling widely at the sign.

"Oh? He is your daddy?" Kai started to throw his body around and tried to move but only could scream at his son to run but it was to late since the guy grabbed the boy by his nape. "My, those eyes you have.. are they from your mother?"

Kan trembled as Kai shouted profanities at the man as his helper held him down.

"..Hm. I heard that your wife died man.. rough. Being a single dad and the future owner of this big hellhole you got here." The man made two of his finger fuse and form into a sharp kinda like knife and cut the cheek of the boy, making the boy flinch and whimper.

"LEAVE MY SON OUT OF THIS. DONT TOUCH HIM WITH YOUR DIRTY AND INFECTED HANDS!"

"Then let's make a deal?" He holded the kid down and aproached the object to the boy's throat. "The life of the son of the woman you loved is more worth than some couple of cash eh?" He chuckled darkly.

He was about to agree until Chrono opened the door with the eight precepts and saw the scene.

"Fuck-"

"KAN GET DOWN!" Kai manage to shout at his son the house was filled with shooting and the eight precepts attacking the subbordinates of the debtor who had held his son captive.

Chrono shot the guy who was holding him down and he quickly activated his quirk to kill the man and get up only to his eyes to widen at seeing his son being dragged down by the debtor and some other muscular guy as the kid screamed for him and kicked his legs to try to get away.

He ran out and was about to slam his hand his hand on the ground without any gloves until he heard the shout to stop and his eyes widen at seeing the man holding a grenade up and his son caged on his arm.

"PAPA!"

"One more movement and your kid gets turned into pieces along with us OVERHAUL!"

He panted in desperation and raised his hand up.

"G... Give my son back." The man laughed as his sunglasses, in the middle of the night using sunglasses what a idiot, fell down.

"LOOK AT THE DESPERATION IN YOUR TONE OVERHAUL! IS PRICELESS!"

The sound of his laughter dissapeared when all four them heard sirens and sounds of heroes coming.

"Boss, I prefer to die than to go to jail." The muscular man mumbled as the debtor gave a little sick giggle before tilting his head at Chidaki, looking him dead in the eyes as he hugged Kan close to his chest and pulled the trigger of the grenade.

"See ya in hell, Overhaul."

"KAN-!" He shouted and ran but teh explosion made him his body slam back on the house, losing his conciousness and hearing only the buzz on his ears and the sound of.. Pops? Kurono? Calling his name as he blacked out.

.

.

.

He woke up with a groan and immeditaly put his hand on his face, feeling a nasty scar but then repairing it but soon widening his eyes.

"KAN!" He screamed and burst out of the room only to be found at the hospital he was starting to hyperventilate until he felt a old and familiar hand grab his shoulder.

"Kai you-"

"WHERE IS HE?!" He grabbed the man's shoulders as tears fell from hsi golden eyes "WHERE IS MY SON?!"

"Chisaki please-" the moment the elder went to speak Kai eyes dropped on a a gurney, small with a sick person dragging her to the morgue... with a tag wrapped around her wrist that looked like a child's... written his son's name on it.

"No... No. no no nO NO NO THAT IS MY SON YOU FUCKING IDIOT DONT!" he was about to kill the poor nurse until Pops grabbed onto him and made him calm down by force as the man howled like a terrible and horrendous beast.

.

.

.

"Kai... stop with this. We dont deal with drugs."

"Chisaki we have rules to follow. That's not how we work around here."

"Have you lost your humanity?"

... yes.

Yes he did lost it. The moment his wife and son were taken away from him...

He wasn't a human anymore.

He had one goal now, and he would make it real.

Even if it meant the yakusa, the heroes, Eri... everyone suffered just as much as he had.

[paperpocalypse]

significance.

50 Cliché Tropes and Prompts: 26. Cuddling in comfortable silence before murmuring “I love you” + 47. “I’ve been in love with you for years”

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,118 words

Warning: Swearing, violence

His head feels like it’s been split open, the rest of his body feels like one giant bruise and the Handler’s daughter has her fancy leather boot on his fucking throat.

Five couldn’t be less surprised by his luck.

“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

He forces in just enough breath to answer her. “Eat shit and die …!”

The reaction is worth it. Lila lets out a furious cry, gritting her teeth and bringing her foot down even harder – and in doing so, changes her center of gravity. Opportunity. Five digs his nails into that damned shoe and pushes upwards. The sudden force sends her flying, and he can breathe again.

Fighting the ache in his bones, Five stumbles to his feet as she does the same. “Come on,” he pants, readying his stance as the woman turns to face him again. “What are you waiting for? Let’s finish this thing.”

She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers, sniffling. “This isn’t gonna be quick. You are going to suffer for what you did.”

Suffer? For Christ’s sake – Five scoffs and drops his hands. “Lady, I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Ronnie and Anita Gill.”

“Mean nothing to me.”

“1993, East London.” Lila continues to stare at him like he knows what the hell she’s talking about. “You hog-tied them and you shot them in the head.”

Five narrows his eyes; it’s very possible that she’s just bullshitting him. But despite the rationality of just ignoring her and going for the kill, he searches his memories anyway. 1993, East London. Hog-tied. Tables overturned, the pleas of a couple inside a tiny flat in the middle of the night. Yes, wait – he does remember. 1993, toys strewn everywhere – he told you to close your eyes but you didn’t – East London, two quick shots –

“We had no choice.”

“I know. But …”

“The flower merchants,” he murmurs. Five looks at her with wide eyes. “They were your parents …!”

“And they never did anything to anyone. They didn’t deserve to die like that.”

The Handler ordered him to kill Lila’s parents. Lila, who has powers like them. That couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Absorbing this newfound information, Five attempts to talk the woman down as he fills out the rest of the picture. “You’re right, alright? I killed them. But I killed a lot of people over the years. It was all just a job. Alright? That was never personal.”

At that, Lila laughs. “‘Never personal,’ my ass,” she sneers. “Yeah, I’ve killed – it’s always, always personal.”

“That’s why you’re not cut out to be an assassin.”

She yanks a knife out of her boot as soon as the sentence leaves his mouth. “Bet your life on that?”

Right then, a shadow moves in the doorway to the barn. Five immediately knows who it is, and his heart seizes in his chest.

“Lila!” Your voice is firm and taunting.

Shit. Shit!

Without hesitation, Five lunges for the knife, only to find himself grabbing at air as Lila reappears behind you. The blade is pressed against your neck before he can even shout your name.

Five clenches his fists as he meets your eyes. Your expression is stony, hands stiffly grasping at Lila’s arm. Jesus Christ, just a little energy to blink – nothing –!

Fucking shit!

“Let her go.”

—

The bearded man smiles. “Sorry, no can do.”

The alley is frigid and dark, the air damp and rotting. He doesn’t move a muscle. In front of him, you breathe steadily, in and out, not saying a word. The steel barrel pressed flush to your temple mirrors the one against his.

“Just hand over your valuables and that briefcase, and we can be on our way.”

“Sorry,” you say, voice steady and cold. (It makes him proud.) “Everything stays with us.”

He looks at you. You blink.

Within the next half-second, he’s knocked your captor to the ground and the two of you are aiming the guns at their previous owners. They raise their hands almost immediately. Exactly like the exercise from his youth.

Another half-second, and both of you pull the triggers.

Five stares down at the corpse now lying on the ground. Then he straightens his tie and turns to you.

You’re still pointing the gun at the other target. His frown softens.

“[Y/n].”

Putting a hand on your arm, he notes how you stiffen, snapping out of whatever zone you had been in. You meet his eyes and breathe in sharply, then relax.

“We’re done.” You frame the question as more of a statement as Five takes the former thief’s gun from you.

“For the night,” he affirms, holding your gaze curiously. “You good?”

You wet your lips and tuck your weapon away. “I’m okay,” you eventually reply. He raises an eyebrow; your mouth twitches. “I just – well, you’re taking this whole assassin thing a lot better than I am. Pointing guns and shooting and killing for real, and – and all that pizzazz.”

“I was a member of the Umbrella Academy,” Five points out dryly. “Thirteen more years of formal training and being able to spatial jump gives me somewhat of an advantage.”

“… That’s true.” Still, you seem unsettled. “Five, you’re okay with this? We’re … killing people.”

“No. But we have no other option,” he says. “It’s only until I figure out how to get us back, alright?”

You hesitate, then nod. “Alright.”

The pair of you leave the alley, leaving the targets there to be found by the police. The fact that they had a gun pointed at your head should make him feel better about it. They were already criminals, too. Self-defense instead of cold-blooded “corrections.”

There’s still a bitter taste in his mouth anyway.

“You hold your own pretty well,” he murmurs after a while, trying to distract himself.

You grant him a small, knowing smile. “Thanks,” you say, taking his arm as the pair of you walk the rest of the way to the motel. “I had a good teacher while I was stuck in the ruins of the apocalypse.”

He hums. “Weren’t you lucky?”

Your hand tightens around the sleeve of his tailored suit.

“The luckiest.”

—

He’s going to kill her.

Teeth bared, Five starts toward her, only to stop short when Lila presses the blade harder against your throat.

“Not another step, Five,” she warns him, her grip tightening. “Or you’ll both regret it.”

“She’s not responsible for what happened. I was the one who killed them!”

“But she didn’t stop you, did she?”

Five struggles to control his rage. The knife is sharp and black underneath your jaw, ready to draw blood at a moment’s notice.

You inhale shallowly. “Lila,” you rasp.

“Don’t speak.”

“Look,” Five forces out as evenly as he can, catching the woman’s attention again. He can’t take his eyes off that goddamn knife. Five can almost feel the edge cutting into his own skin. “You wanna blame someone, blame the Handler, alright? She faked the kill order.”

“Bullshit! I saw the kill order. AJ Carmichael ordered it, and you and [Y/n] carried it out.”

“Lila, listen to what I’m telling you, alright? The Handler gave us the kill order. She came on the job, which she’d never done before.” He unclenches his fists with unwilling, trembling fingers. His mind is reeling. “You’re Commission. You know execs never go on jobs, but that day in London, she was there. Ask yourself why –”

“Stop trying to muddy the waters.”

Five swallows, pulse racing. He rips his eyes away from your neck to gauge Lila’s expression. Doubt is beginning to bleed into it, and he manages to keep his tone level.

Focus on completing the picture. No sudden movements.

“Think about it, Lila. It all makes sense.”

Lila’s grip on the knife relaxes by the smallest amount. She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “What?”

“She never cared about your parents. She was looking for you.”

What little is left of her anger melts off Lila’s face. For the first time, the girl looks completely vulnerable. And it’s not a farce.

“Why?” she whispers.

Come on …

“‘Cause you’re one of us.”

Lila whips her head around when Diego cuts through the silence, holding you even more tightly against herself. Five’s gaze snaps back to the knife again and he swears internally.

Dammit, Diego, you better have a plan!

“The Handler stole you, Lila. Just like our asshole father took all of us,” his brother explains carefully.

“No. It’s not the same thing.”

“You’re right. Because he didn’t have our parents murdered.” Diego approaches her, staying low to the ground, hands outstretched. “Listen to me, Lila. You were born October 1, 1989, the same day as all of us.”

The rest of his siblings close in on Lila, slowly, warily. The movement sends her into a panic, and she cuts a little into your neck. You let out half of a gasp and swallow the rest of it, but it’s enough.

Five sees red.

“Get your fucking hands off her!”

“STAY BACK!”

“Five! Back off!” Diego shouts. Chest heaving and blood roaring in his ears, Five looks at him and then at your sweaty, frozen face – and against every fiber of his being, he listens and backs off, glaring venomously as his brother then turns to Lila again. “Lila? Lila, stop. Let her go.”

She turns her head from side to side, knuckles white as she keeps the knife against your throat. “No,” she chokes. “Diego, you don’t understand. They killed my parents. They took my life away from me.”

Five seethes. “For the last time, it was nothing personal –"

“And it was wrong. I know.” Diego’s eyes flit to Five’s, silently reprimanding. “You want to make them pay for what they did. But killing [Y/n]’s not gonna bring your parents back. You know that.”

“It’s not about bringing them back.”

He nods once, softly. “You’re right. It’s about justice. Honoring their memory.” Diego’s voice is gentle. “Trust me, Lila, I get it. I lost someone to the Commission too. She wasn’t family, but she was my friend, and I cared about her. She wasn’t supposed to die. She didn’t deserve to die. But she did.”

As Diego continues talking, Five keeps his guard up on the other side, watching and waiting for a contraction of a muscle, a single forewarning of violence. If another drop of your blood stains that blade, shit, he’ll kill the woman with his own two hands, Diego’s feelings be damned.

Tightening his jaw, Five shifts on his feet as he looks at you. You stare back with calm eyes – just like that night in the alley, but this time, with no signal for him to make a move.

Goddammit, they should’ve gotten you to safety by now!

“… Just think about whether taking another life would honor their memory. [Y/n] deserves a chance to start over, live a peaceful life with people she cares about. And so do you.”

Lila’s trembling. Yet, she refuses to budge. “If it weren’t for her and Five,” she whispers, “I wouldn’t need that second chance. I would have been all alone if Mum hadn’t found me that night.”

“But there’s a reason she found you. She’s using you, Lila. The Handler.”

“You’re wrong. She raised me.” Lila pauses, then asserts, “She loves me.”

“She’s dangerous,” Diego emphasizes. “And you’re scared of what she’ll do with all that new power. That’s why you dragged me to the Commission. Because I know what it’s like to love dangerous people.”

—

“Oh, my.” The Handler puts a hand on his shoulder, hovering behind him. “One hundred and forty-three kills on the simulation? That’s a new record. Very, very good, Five.”

Five bristles at her closeness, but he doesn’t move away, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of unnerving him. “Thanks,” he says tersely.

“Tell me, Five. From what I’ve seen during your training, you’d be a lot more efficient in the field if you were a one-man team. Working alone is when you work best.”

“I’m partnering up with [Y/n].”

“And you’ve filled out the paperwork and everything, I know. I know. But I implore you to think about it logically,” the Handler tells him, leading him down the hallway. “[Y/n] has highly marked assessments, but frankly, they’re nowhere near your level.” She raises her eyebrows at him and blows out a stream of smoke. “Forgive me for assuming, but perhaps this is less about a partnership that would benefit the Commission and more about your personal … relationship.”

Five smiles thinly at her. “With all due respect, we’ve worked together for years. Almost forty years, in fact. I can assure you that our partnership will deliver more than satisfactory results.”

The woman just hums serenely, eyebrows still raised and cigarette holder between her lips as he faces her. Behind her, he sees you approaching.

“Excuse me,” he says politely.

As he sidesteps the Handler to meet you halfway, your shared employer calls out to him, voice ringing through the sparse crowd of Commission drones. “You’re a dangerous man, Five,” she drawls, “and this is a dangerous job. If you want to protect someone, we won’t stop you, but don’t let it endanger this opportunity we’ve so generously provided. To the both of you.”

“Duly noted,” Five replies over his shoulder, walking away with you. He can hear the Handler’s heels click against the floor as she goes on her way as well.

“She’s suspicious about us partnering up, isn’t she?” you ask him lowly.

He frowns. “I would be too if I were her. But we have to stay together.”

“Well.” You reach up to adjust his hat, tilting it slightly. “In any case, I’m pulling my own weight in the field. Just like in the apocalypse. No one-sided protection.”

“[Y/n], this is different from the apocalypse. We’re not dealing with food shortages or bad weather – we’re dealing with people.”

“All the more reason for you to trust me.” Despite your usual controlled tone and mien, he sees the way that your eyes glint. “I’m kinda dangerous myself, Five. Especially for the people I love, and I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Five sighs.

“You’re so sappy, you know that?”

(Nevertheless, he finds himself mumbling those four words, just loud enough for only you to hear.)

—

“Difference is …” Diego glances around at their siblings, then looks down, “they love me back.”

“Shut up.”

“The only thing she loves is power. Now, the minute she can’t use you, she will turn on you, and deep down, I know you know that.”

She tilts the knife against your neck. Five sucks in a breath, his heart pounding.

“You don’t know me, Diego.” Lila’s voice is hoarse.

Diego steps closer. He lifts a hand to cover hers over the knife.

“Don’t I?” he whispers. “I know that we can be your family. If you just let us.”

Lila’s eyes are glossy with unshed tears. Hesitantly, she turns her head to look around at his family, and in that moment, Five has a cautious inkling that Diego’s words actually got through to her. She doesn’t resist when Diego pulls her hand gently.

When she releases you, he almost feels weak with relief.

Five murmurs your name as you stagger over to him; you grab his arms, and he raises his hands to hold your face between them.

“Shit,” he breathes, “[Y/n] –”

“I’m okay,” he hears you say, but his ears are ringing and your skin is cold and shit, your neck – delicately, Five tilts your head back, and you attempt to brush his hands away. “Five, it’s – it’s just a scratch …”

His fingers brush against a wetness on your skin. You wince, almost imperceptibly. He draws back to look at his hand, and when he sees the blood on his fingertips, your blood, the wave of relief crashing onto him abruptly morphs back into rage.

Before you can pull him back, Five lunges at Lila.

Gunshots echo throughout the barn.

—

You’re smiling.

—

He wakes up, gasping for breath.

“Oh, good! You’re still alive,” the Handler says, looming over him. Her lipstick is bright red through the dizzying blurs. “Lucky you. You got to see how this all played out.”

Grappling for air, Five tries to speak – tries to give one last word, to finally tell the damned snake to fuck off as he stares into the barrel of her automatic. But it hurts to breathe and he can’t. Fuck, it hurts. It hurts. His tongue feels like lead and his throat is closed up. All he can do is look.

But before she can pull the trigger, he hears gunfire.

Bullets rend flesh that isn’t his. Five’s eyes widen, stunned; the Handler gasps sharply. She turns. More gunfire.

She falls.

Shit, that could only mean.… Five struggles to lift his head, almost blacking out from the pain as the gunman approaches, crushing straw underfoot. A shadow falls over him.

The Swede silently tilts his gun down at his face, and he realizes: they are both the last ones. Everyone else is dead. The Swede’s brothers. The Handler. Lila. His siblings. You.

This is the end.

(This doesn’t have to be the end.)

… Five blinks, numb.

(You’re the one who got us stuck here.)

Unless …

(Seconds. Not decades.)

Seconds.

His lungs burn. Hope blooms in his chest.

(C’mon, Five.)

Concentrate. Hands clenching sluggishly, Five focuses on gaining back the feeling in them. Seconds, not decades. A familiar, electric buzz thrums through his bones, warm, crackling with energy. His hands begin to glow. Blue envelops them like they had so many times before.

It happens slowly, time reversing itself like molasses oozing back into a jar. The Swede lowers his arm and retreats. Bodies begin to rise. Five feels himself getting pushed up, and his feet touch the ground; he presses forward, running, refusing to look back. The sharp pains recede to a singular ache.

Seconds.

Seconds.

He breaks through behind the barn door with a gasp. Air fills his chest, full and crisp.

Immediately, Five looks back at you and everyone else, standing and breathing, and pats himself just to make sure.

Holy shit.

Spotting movement outside, Five leaps at the Handler just as she walks in, seizing her weapon and turning it on her. His finger curls at the trigger. She raises her hands in surrender, lips pursed.

Got you, you son of a bitch.

“It’s true, isn’t it? What Five said,” he hears Lila ask. He doesn’t dare look away from her mother, meeting her poisonous glare with an equally cold one. “Answer me! Is it true?”

The Handler takes in a breath. “Well –”

Before she can finish her sentence, blood sprays out from her chest. She collapses. Dead.

The Swede. Five stares at her body, gun lowering. There’s a pregnant pause, void of any air – and then in his periphery, Lila shoots forward.

Luther charges after her. “The case!”

“No!”

Diego tackles him to the ground. Lila disappears in a flash of blue.

One dead, one missing. Neither of which are you or his siblings. There might be hope for them yet. Rolling his shoulders, Five turns his attention to the rogue assassin, cocking his gun and pointing it at him. The Swede reciprocates.

Nobody utters a word, for fear that it may be their last. But as Five feels the weight of the automatic in his arms, he wonders, suddenly, just how much he has in common with this man. A forgotten humanity. The death of their families. The force of a person with nothing to lose.

Except in the Swede’s case, he has no chance of gaining back what he had lost.

This is the end.

Five takes his finger off the trigger, then after a brief hesitation, lets go of the gun.

“Enough,” he says.

Nothing happens at first. The only sign that the man heard him is how he looks away from Five, surveying the rest of the barn’s occupants.

Five returns his gaze firmly, muscles tense, when he meets it again. The Swede regards him for another moment, then finally speaks.

“Inte mer.”

He drops his weapon. No more killing.

—

After Vanya helps the kid and calms him down, she goes with him and Sissy to help them pack up. Everyone else exits the barn as well to rest up and say their goodbyes before leaving, save for Diego, who talks to Herb and Dot with you and Five before joining the rest of the group at the house.

As soon as everything seems like it’s on track, Five brings you straight to the bathroom before you can protest.

“Five, it’s just a scratch.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

In a familiar turn of events, you’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, sulking as he cleans the rest of the dried blood from your neck. Five scowls as he inspects the thin, rough scab underneath your jaw. For shit’s sake, it’s more than a ‘scratch’ – but at the very least, the cut wasn’t deep enough to cause too much bleeding.

Obviously, he’d have preferred it if you hadn’t gotten cut at all.

“She could’ve killed you.”

“I know,” you murmur. He glares at you softly, and you reach over to hold his hand. “Sorry for worrying you.”

Five scoffs, shaking his head. “Worrying me? I was damn well past worrying when she –” At that moment, he makes the mistake of seeing the guilt in your eyes, and he sighs. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You shrug quietly as he opens a large Band-Aid. “That I had to do something to keep you safe.”

“At your expense?”

Your miniscule smile changes into a grimace for a split second when he sticks the bandage on, but it returns immediately after. “You would’ve done the same thing, Five.”

All he can retort with is a displeased huff.

Silently, you stand up and turn him around, urging him to sit down this time as you pluck another hand towel from the stack that Vanya had given the two of you. Five sits still, mouth shut and eyes watching, as you start cleaning his face. Your expression is tender. A familiar feeling wells up inside of him.

Suddenly, you chuckle.

“What?”

“It’s just – if I didn’t know any better,” you say, scrubbing at a particularly grimy spot on his cheek, “I’d think that you were a schoolboy that just got into a fight and lost.”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, good thing that you do know better, because I obviously would’ve won.”

“Obviously.” Your eyes glint, like they have so many times before.

—

“How bad does it hurt?”

Your hand is soft in his as he glances at his wrist, propped up on a stack of books, then into the small fire burning a few feet away. “Not that much,” he answers. “Thanks for splinting it.”

“Thanks for talking me through it.” You breathe in, head on his shoulder, testing the words on your tongue before you continue. “I was worried. I’m glad it’s feeling better.”

A wrist sprain is nothing to write home about, figuratively speaking. It’s more of an inconvenience than an actual concern; Five figures that the injury will heal in a week, a week and a half at the most. Frankly, he’s more concerned about how much longer it’ll take to complete daily tasks in the meantime.

… You, on the other hand – well, he wonders if you’ve ever gotten anything more than a few cuts and scrapes growing up. The closest he had ever seen you get to panicking was after he fell today, and you’ve been wandering around with him for years.

In a strange way, Five thinks, he was glad for it. He is glad for you. Glad for your presence, your level head. He is glad for the way you hold his hand and talk to him during the day and after dark. And he is glad, secretly, that you want to protect him just like he wants to protect you.

“I love you.”

The words slip out, rough and unbidden.

Five holds his breath when they echo in his ears. You stop tapping your fingers over his skin. Perhaps that’s a bad thing. It was not a mistake, of course, and he isn’t going to take it back, but if that wasn’t what you were saying this whole time – shit. He lets go of your hand, his throat scratchy and strangely closed up.

But then – your fingertips brush his face. He swallows.

“I love you too.”

[thewhizzyhead]

a non-filipino's guide to trese: ep 1

So some of my mutuals decided to check out Trese aka the Netflix adaptation of the Filipino horror comic book series that I keep rambling about here and then since well um most of my mutuals aren’t from the Philippines fshfs I decided to make a long-ass post that basically consists of me rambling about the cultural context present in Trese with fun little tidbits about Filipino folklore. I’m not an expert on Filipino mythology so um I just typed out the stuff that I know and the stuff that I looked up on Wikipedia so um take this with a grain of salt aaaaa I’ll save the extensive google scholar research ramble on folklore present in Trese for another day.

I’ll try to find the sites where I got some of the information from cause um yea I kinda had a bit of a hard time finding the other shit so um once again, take the stuff here with a grain of salt. Also, feel free to add more info if you guys got any!

SO ANYWAYS ENJOY ME RAMBLING ABOUT EPISODE 1 OF TRESE WOO

+ MRT and LRT (Manila Metro Rail Transit and Light Rail Transit) are train systems in NCR (the capital region) and yea them suddenly stopping and malfunctioning in the middle of the goddamn rail is a daily occurrence and we have been trying to deal with this bullshit for years but alas, corruption and negligence are sweet sweet drugs.

+ When the MRT broke down, you'd see a red bee in the flashing billboard right? Well that's Jollibee and that's probably the most well-known fast food restaurant chain here heck there are even branches of it abroad!

+ According to many youtube comments along with other social media posts that I am way too tired to link here, the opening theme is an Ifugao ethnic song called Balluha'd Bayyauhen but with modern accompaniments and I think the song is about a fruit called a balluha that the character in the song tries to it but cannot swallow. (someone please correct me if I’m wrong here fjkfs)

+ The first um monster that we see Alexandra interact with is the White Lady of Balete Drive. White Ladies or “Kaperosa” are a type of female ghosts typically dressed in ghostly white dresses or similar garments. According to legend, she died in a car accident while driving along Balete Drive (a two lane street formerly lined with Balete Trees which are said to be a home for spirits and mysterious creatures) in Quezon City while other accounts say she died waiting for the arrival of her lover; others also say that she was a teenage girl who was run over and killed by a taxi driver at night and then buried around a Balete tree while another variation of the tale claims that a student from the University of the Philippines was sexually assaulted and killed by a taxi driver nearby and so said ghost haunts the street in search of her murderer. There are many other variations but according to local rumor, the legend was fabricated by a reporter in 1953 in order to make an interesting story. What remains consistent in many variations is that apparently taxi drivers would be stopped by a beautiful lady asking for a ride and if one would look at the rear window, they would see that the white lady in question is bruised and drenched in blood.

+ There are a lot of mentions about "lakans" and stuff in reference to Alex and her father right? In precolonial times, the term is used to refer to the paramount ruler or the highest-ranking political authorities in Tagalog communities (so um NCR and some parts of Region 4). In Muslim communities, they are called sultans while communities with strong trade connecitons with Indonesia or Malaysia called them Rajah. Datu is umm the more generalized term though when it comes to discussing the leaders of the precolonial Filipinos.

+ So, Alex’s mom is a babaylan and back in the pre-colonial period, each barangay (which a native filipino term for a village or a district; said term is still used today to describe um divisions in municipalities like) had them and these are basically Philippine shamans and they specialized in communicating with the spirits of the dead. To my knowledge, the role of babaylan went to women and yea people assigned male at birth but then identified as female were also allowed to become babaylans and they would be treated with the same respect given to any woman back then (honestly I dunno much about lgbtq+ stuff back in the precolonial times but all I know is that precolonial Filipinos were much a lot more welcoming towards trans identities bUT THEN THE SPANIARDS CAME AND UM ERR RUINED THAT); also the writing Alexandra's mom did in that one scene with the dagger is in Baybayin - preHispanic Filipino script. I dunno what she wrote down though. .

+ Also I kinda find it funny that the people here esp those who were at the White Lady scene are um,,, not at all surprised? Like yea quite a number of filipinos have their own superstitions and beliefs and all that but um yea the people in Trese seem very used to the bullshit,,,which in retrospect, isn't at all inaccurate fsdfd I MEAN WE DEAL WITH UNSURMOUNTABLE AMOUNTS OF BS ON A DAILY BASIS SO I DON’T THINK DEAD GHOSTS WOULD EVEN FAZE MANY FSKJDS

+ The one that appears right before Alexandra talks with the duwende (the one in the manhole) is called Laman Lupa (which i guess translates to um "What is in the earth"? just um YEA THEY ARE DIRT CREATURES). normally this is an umbrella term for duwendes and nunos but in Trese they are servants of these aforementioned creatures.

+ Duwende (which came from the Spanish phrase "dueno de case" which means "owner of the house") or dwarves in Filipino folklore are known to be mischievous and magical environmental guardians. They are believed to reside in trees or under earth mounds (those that live in the latter are called nuno sa pundo or old man of the mount) which is why quite a lot of Filipinos say "tabi tabi po" or “excuse me” when wandering around a forest or earth mounds as a sign of respect and in the hopes the duwende won't torment them. If the person is friendly, the duwende can also be friendly in return and will bring that person good lucl; otherwise, those who destroy their homes by stepping on them will face their wrath in form of heartless curse and predictions of ominous and disastrous fates. A duwende's color also depends on their budhi or conscience: to my knowledge, white duwendes are kind, red ones give protection amulets, green ones are firnedly with children and the black ones give nothing but trouble.

+ Chocnut aka the snack Alex bribes the nuno with is a very yummy chocolate snack made of coconut milk, crushed peanuts and cocoa powder. They are umm about an inch in length and maybe half an inch in width so it's fairly small; that being said I WANT THE CHOCNUT THAT ALEXANDRA HAS CAUSE HOT DAMN THAT'S A BIG CHOCNUT

+ In Trese, the creatures in the MRT scene and in the warehouse Alexandra visits after she talks with the duwende are called "aswang". In Philippine folklore, it is an umbrella term for any kind of monster so um an aswang in Luzon would be very different from the aswang in Mindanao. According to what I saw on wikipedia, they can be classified in 5 categories: the vampire (self-explanatory um they drink blood), the viscera sucker (the manananggal, i'll get to that next time), the weredog (cats and pigs are also possible but um yea they target pregnant women), the witch (self-explanatory boom curses and stuff) and the ghoul (they gather near trees in cemeteries to feast on human corpses). Aswangs are often described to have a long, hollow tongue, sharp claws and sharp teeth, although they do also have human forms.

+ To my knowledge, Ibwa, the leader of the aswangs in the warehouse, is a creature from Tinguian or Itneg mythology (they, like the Ifugao, are an indigenous ethnic group in northwestern Luzon) though I could be wrong about this dksfsf Ibwa seems like an ethnic filipino term tho wah I can't remember where I once read that. But anyways, Ibwa often stalk sthe house of a dying person to steal its body. In order for the ibwa to NOT succeed in that, some people burn holes in the garments of the dead and put a sharp iron object on top of the grave since those are most powerful weapons against aswangs which is what Alexandra uses to subdue the Ibwa and kill all the other aswangs (the knife alex uses is named Sinag which means "ray of light".)

+ ALSO I AM SO SO GLAD THEY KEPT THE FILIPINO SWEARS IN THE ENGLISH DUB YES YES THIS IS A VERY GOOD JOB so lemme discuss the versatility of tangina-

+ Also umm Bossing is a nickname of Vic Sotto - one of the three pioneer hosts of Eat Bulaga! which is the longest running Philippine noontime variety show. Over time, most probably due to the show's popularity, the term "bossing" then became um slang for "boss" or "chief"

+ Translation of what Alex says when she's stirring the eye inside the cup: “In the eyes of others, secrets will reveal themselves.”

+ Sidenote: The English dub's pronunciation of many of the tagalog lines are um yea they r pretty good but they could use a bit of work but then again I'm really not that good in speaking in Tagalog so who am I to judge gkdkf sorry po guys conyo po ako-

+ Maria Makiling is arguably the most famous of all the diwatas (ancestral spirits, nature spirits, or deities) in Philippine Mythology; she is associated with Mount Makiling in Laguna as the guardian spirit of the mountain. Mount Makiling is said to resemble a profile of a woman and people associate the profile with Maria herself. She is also known as a goddess by the name of Dayang Masalanta and people would pray to her for safety and to stop storms and earthquakes. That's the goddess Alexandra's mother mentions right when she tells Alex to hide. (Translation to what she said there: Maria Makiling, goddess of the mountain, bless us.)

+ ALSO YEA THAT MAYOR IN THE MRT STATION IS UMMM RATHER REMINISCENT OF MAAAANY POLITICIANS AND PUBLIC SERVANTS HERE LIKE BELIEVE ME I CAN THINK OF SO MANY NAMES RN. THEY WOULD FLAUNT THEIR MACHISMO AND PROMISE THAT THEY THEMSELVES SHALL PUNISH THE PERPETRATORS HARSHLY BUT IN THE END THEY DONT MEAN SHIT AND ARE IN OFFICE TO SERVE ONLY THEMSELVES AND TO SHIT ON THE REST ESP THOSE OF THE POORER SECTORS AND *NOTHING IS DONE ABOUT IT*. WE LIVE IN HELL OKAY. also hmm how the police are represented here is umm,,,interesting,,, like i know there are sOME good police officers like the ones alexandra assists but like,,,our current sociopolitical climate + the many cases showcasing the corruption in the police force + tHE SHEER AMOUNT OF POLICE BRUTALITY HERE would ummm beg to differ. but um anyways-

+ Also Mang Inasal posters can be seen in the MRT station backdrops and um it’s a very famous restaurant chain here and they serve lots of barbecue and other filipino stuffs and i miss them a lot God their halo halo is very yummy

+ Santelmo - oki so this is the fire face thingy that Alexandra summons inside the ruined train. This is the shortened version of the term "Apoy ni Santa Elmo" or "St. Elmo's Fire" - this is a weather phenomenon wherein plasma is created from an electrical discharge from a rod like object in an atmospheric electric field. This phenomenon was used to warn of imminent lightning strikes or storms (there is a chapter in Noli Me Tangere where Pilosopo Tasyo talks about that bUT I'LL SAVE THE NOLI ME TANGERE RAMBLES FOR ANOTHER DAY). But according to Philippine folklore, santelmos - which are said to be souls of people lost as sea - are balls of fire that appear where accidents or big arguments happen. In Trese, santelmos (alex's santelmo being "The Great Spirit of the Binondo Fire") can be called to assist in supernatural investigations

+ Translation of what Alex says when she draws the circles to meet with the purple ghosts: "Souls, where are you off to? I'll be entering too, so please open the door."

+ Remember the scene at the train with all the purple ghosts and the woman in a veil? Yea the woman is an emissary of a goddess named Ibu and she is the Manobo (again, another indigenous ethnic group but this time they're from Mindanao; fun fact we have around 134 ethnic groups) goddess of deceased mortals and the queen of the underworld; she also serves as a psychopomp and guides the newly deceased souls to the other side (having an MRT be the ride to the underworld isn’t in the legends tho so fkkjsf)

+ The aswang in the top hat is called Xa Mul and according to the Isneg/Apayao people (yay another ethnic group but this time in northern Luzon - the Cordillera regions to be specific), they are an evil spirit known to swallow people whole.

+ Alex has two henchmen right? Yea they are named Crispin and Basillio and No I still don’t know who’s who and I'm really sorry about that fsfjs so anyways the names Crispin and Basillio are actually those of two brothers featured in the Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo novels (Crispin is younger and Basilio is older) which are basically the national novels here cause um yea written by national hero Jose Rizal as sociopolitical commentary about the Spanish regime here. I don't know if I want to spoil this cause I kinda want other people to read the novel too fskfs BUT ALL IN ALL, ONE OF THEM DIES IN LIKE THE 10TH OR 11TH CHAPTER OF NOLI ME TANGERE (and the novel has 64 chapters btw) AND UM YEA-

+ OKI SO TO ADD MORE CONTEXT TO THE SQUATTER STUFFS MENTIONED IN TRESE (we r gonna use the tiny font here because holy shit this rant is long): So,in the Philippines, especially in the capital region, there are lots of slum areas called squatters. These are dense urban settlements made of compact makeshift housing units that aren't really officially recognized by the government. This is um very reflective of the poverty situation here and there are maaany factors that come into play here and if i were to go into depth about this topic, that rant would probably turn into an academic paper so for the sake of brevity, let's just say that Things Are Fucked Up Here. Oftentimes the poorer sectors are being ignored and left to their own devices despite tons of campaign promises to make things better and easier for them. The communities that live here are incredibly vulnerable to floods, fires, and the like and afaik no concrete solutions have been in effect to protect these people and their settlements. There have also been many times where squatter areas are dismantled or demolished despite protests of people living in those areas and yea I understand the need to make space and the need for renovation but the people should still be offered some sort of temporary settlement or financial compensation thingy that doESN'T fuck them over but alas, we have an anti-poor government. That being said, I really like Trese Ep 1's portrayal of governmental negligence, but I also have some thoughts, especially in regards to the mayor being arrested THAT FAST which um believe me, NEVER FUCKING HAPPENS BECAUSE MANY MAYORS AND A LOT OF POLITICIANS HAVE THE POLICE IN THEIR POCKETS SO UM ERR YEA JUSTICE IS RARELY A THING HERE BUT UM ANYWAYS YEA THE GOVERNMENT LIKES TO SHIT ON THE POOR WOO LET'S SAVE THE USE OF SOCIOLOGICAL LENS ON THIS MATTER FOR ANOTHER DAY

+ The news channel reporting the arrest of the mayor is ABC-ZNN WHICH IS AN OBVIOUS REFERENCE TO ABSCBN aka the top media conglomerate here (that has been fucked over by the government so many times to the point that they had to shut down operations last year which is all sorts of unfair so seeing them being referenced here kinda made me happy gksfks)

[kinzavskpop]

what to expect when you’re expecting || c.yj.

alternatively known as: the one where youngjae gets a significant other because coco got knocked up pairing: youngjae x dog owner!reader genres/AUs: fluff, humour, crack, strangers to (brief) enemies to friends to lovers (so basically all the tropes ldkfjsk) warnings: animal pregnancy and consequently animal labour a/n: do I know what this is?? no. am I subjecting the internet to this anyway?? yes. enjoy!! also this was heavily inspired by @gtsvnbys bc her au’s have the cutest titles + plots

ok so first things first, we all know youngjae would literally die for coco

like the man literally dedicated a youtube channel to making her food and bath bombs

a 13/10 devoted father to his princess

and you happen to know youngjae!! 

not bc he’s ‘choi youngjae, vocalist of got7′, but because he’s miss coco’s dad

and because you always ended up at the dog park at the same time as them

your new menace pup, bagel, was coco’s resident bff!! that also managed to get her pregnant oops use protection kids

this probably wouldn’t have happened if youngjae hadn’t smiled so brightly you thought he was the sun and got drawn in

and it definitely wouldn’t have happened it your laugh didn’t literally sound like a whole symphony to him

and it 100% could have been stopped if you guys weren’t basically flirting so hard the rest of the dog owners were placing bets on when you two would get together

so it’s definitely a shared blame but like,, for good reason

n e ways

ur chillin at home doin whatever it is u do and then youngjae texts you the randomest thing??? 

“u owe me CHILD SUPPORT”

so obviously you call him because what the heck does that even MEAN

and he is P I S S E D. like you thought he was sunshine?? get this man angry and he will give you a goddamn sunburn

turns out,, when owners are distracted,,,,,,, ur dogs can get up to some Interesting Things(tm)

so any chances of wooing youngjae?? are gone

“who doesn’t get there dog neutered?! you can’t just do what you want, life has consequences!!” “me???? you’re the one who brought your FERTILE DOG to a dog park in the middle of her heat!!” “well at least my dog is a LADY and knows how to keep it in her pants unlike some heathens” “JOKES ON YOU HE DOESN’T EVEN WEAR PANTS”

and okay youngjae in protective dad mode is really hot bUT he also just called your baby a heathen so FRIENDSHIP OVER >:(

“He thinks he’s so high and mighty because he treats his dog like a prissy princess like who does he think he is??” - you, ranting to bagel as you watch soap opera reruns at night

“I can’t believe they would be irresponsible and not neuter their dog, this is exactly why I tell you that you deserve more than anyone can give you” - youngjae, holding coco up to his eye level and ranting about bagel

This feud goes on for a while

Dogs are only pregnant for two and a half months and you two have spent the last month throwing snarky comments about anything and everything

And I do mean EVERYTHING

“Oh look, it’s the impregnation prince” “hey bagel, how would you feel if I decked your baby mama’s dad hm?” “That’s setting a GREAT example for the kids” “maybe coco will learn some self defence skills since your only experience comes from naruto” “HEY”

And this doesn't just happen with words

You end up finding out you two shop at the same stores

Youngjae, looking straight at you while grabbing the last box of your favourite cereal: whoops.

In retaliation you put a 3kg box of cucumbers in his cart when he’s not paying attention

Both of you arguing over the last bottle of soy sauce and the poor store worker is like “I don’t get paid enough for this shit”

The only reason you even stopped is because,,,,,,you miss him

You miss the way he would smile at all the puppies in the park and how he would get excited with you about fake dog drama

“can you BELIEVE that pepito cheated on kimchi with sagwa?? The AUDACITY smh”

And youngjae wants to hear your laugh again after he makes dumb jokes to break the ice

“What do you call a dog magician? A labracadabrador!”

So the next time you see him as you’re walking bagel, you tell him that you want to call a truce

“I will admit that it’s partially my fault for not keeping a closer eye on him but I’m tired of fighting all the time. Look at how happy they are together!”

And you finally see his smile and it feels like the sun is shining again and all is right in the world

But Youngjae still believes you owe him child support!!

So for the next month and a half, you end up really getting to know not only coco but Youngjae too

You guys go to coco’s doctor’s appointments, spend time at his apartment looking through puppy names, and you guys even make home made doggy treats!!

“this looks like coco’s poop” “oh my god ew you’re right”

“coco-yah, give appa a kiss!!” “she just wants the sweet potato” “sssshhhh”

It’s a ton of fun, and then in walks.........mark tuan. also known as coco’s absentee dad

Youngjae invites Mark to one of your park outings and he brings Milo who is so energetic and cute!!

And mark introduces himself to you like “hi, I’m mark! You must be youngjae’s s/o, he talks about you all the time” while youngjae and you just break out into denial

“omg mark ur so funny hahahahahsleepwithoneeyeopentonighthahahah” 

Mark: “you guys literally go on dog park dates” youngjae: “it’s called being a responsible parent, you wouldn’t know that though” mark: looks into the camera like he’s on the office

Honestly you think nothing of it, youngjae is just your friend whose dog happens to be the mother of your grandchildren :^)

And yes, ok, MAYBE youngjae had talked about you bUT it was mostly about coco and bagel mark’s just hyperfixating no he’s not youngjae has a PHAT crush

But one night you’re over at his, letting bagel and coco have some bonding time while you watch Hotel for Dogs, and it starts raining

The dogs are asleep, the light of the TV is hitting Youngjae’s face as he tries not to cry at the scene in front of you and the only thing you’re thinking is “I’m so glad my dog got your dog pregnant, because I don’t think I’d want to do this with anyone else”

But what you also don't notice is that when you're falling asleep on Youngjae's shoulder at the end of the movie he's thinking the exact same thing

Well not exactly

He's more thinking "I'm so glad I get to be here with you, even if your dog did get my princess pregnant" while staring at you with the softest smile on his face

anyway one night it’s like 3AM or something and you’re asleep, as one would expect

but your phone keeps buzzing and ur like ‘dear whatever higher power exists please let this insanity stop’

and it does!!

until someone starts caLLING

and at this point ur just fed up so you answer the phone and ur like “idc WHO THIS IS it is thREE IN THE DAMN MORNING so you BETTER have a good fuckin reason for calling” until u realize it’s youngjae practically SCREECHING in panic mode on the other end

“whERE ARE YOU COCO IS HAVING THE BABIES RIGHT N O W”

the moment u hear this ur like “OK DON’T MOVE I’LL BE THERE ASAP” and running out the door in ur pjs with like mismatching shoes and scooping up bagel like “don’t freak out but ur about to be a dad” but all he does is lick ur nose and smile and u curse urself for owning a cutie patootie pup

with your phone in one hand and bagel’s leash in the other you’re trying to get youngjae to stop panicking and then you hear someone in the background yell “dude tell your s/o to hurry up” and your only thought is EXCUSE ME?? S/O?????

but this mf doesn’t even DENY it, he just yells back “SHUT UP THEY’RE ALREADY ON THEIR WAY” and you’re just like slkdjfljs????? Coco is having babies we will deal with this Later(tm) while telling Youngjae to hurry up and let you into his apartment

He lets you in and as you get to the door, Youngjae opens it and it is.........a hot mess

Coco’s in a cardboard box, there’s some sort of clear liquid in a puddle on the floor, you can hear a dryer going on in the background, and Youngjae is wearing an old anime tshirt with bright pink pjs and has like floofy bed head with his glasses sliding down his nose bridge but STILL manages to look like a goddamn snack??? 

but again, you have next to no time because bagel basically jumps out of your arms and pulls you to coco and Youngjae is talking your ear off

“there’s water in her bowl, I’ve got blankets in the dryer, the internet said to have dental floss in case we need to tie an umbilical cord, oh shit we need to call the vet oh my god how could I for-"

The only way to cut him off is to literally grab him by the shoulders and shake him

But you also very lightly push his glasses back up on his nose and fix his hair while teasing him

"You have to be presentable when you meet your grandchildren for the first time ^.^"

When I tell you this man's heart BURSTS!!!!!

But he can't do anything about it right now because "hey dude I've got the vet on the phone, when did coco start going into labour?"

So you do the only thing you know how to do: you make sure your babies are okay

Youngjae is monitoring coco like his life depends on it and you are making sure bagel isn't destroying anything he shouldn't be near and youngjae's brother is in the background like should I go back to bed now orrrrrr

You're too focused on trying to get youngjae to keep calm that you don't even notice the fact that you two are A: holding hands and B: youngjae has been low key sniffing your hair to keep him grounded because he likes the scent of your shampoo

You're literally this man's rock right now because he is dying of panic and the next 15 minutes are truly life changing

As it turns out, coco isn't a princess. she's a QUEEN.

She gives birth to three adorable little babies with no complications, who are named coffee (because coffee and bagel), puff (because coco puffs), and donut (because it's like a coco flavoured bagel)!!

After all is said and done, the pups are nursing and bagel and coco look so happy together

You're wondering what's next for you two, especially because you're still holding hands but now it's because neither of you want to let go oops

"I've had like three hours of sleep in the past week because I couldn't stop thinking about this happening so allow me a moment to be absolutely insane" he rushes out as you look at him

You nod slowly because you can kind of see where he's going but also it's still 5:30 in the morning and you guys just helped deliver 3 puppies so your mind is still kind of frazzled

And when youngjae presses his lips to yours,,,,,, your heart and your brain go ASFHKLJHKLK

And you pull away because h u h but also youngjae looks absolutely terrified but neither of you can stop giggling because wow I can't believe we just did that

"I'm sorry I wasn't think-" "youngjae?” “I know I should have asked but-” “less apologizing more kissing please" "I can do that"

Am I saying you spend the next few hours kissing and watching over your dogs instead of sleeping?? yes. Do you end up crashing at like noon and missing coco’s emergency post-partum appointment and get woken up by his brother paparazzi-ing you two for blackmail purposes?? also yes.

[script-nef]

How their relationship gets revealed (i)

Characters: Bokuto, Hoshiumi, Atsumu, Osamu

Category: fluff

Bokuto Koutarou

Bokuto loves you so goddamn much he wants to shout it from everywhere

Like after and during matches, on interviews and even in private meetings

But he understands your shyness towards the media and always does his best to keep quiet

But it can only go so far, especially when he’s so happy

Like after he wins his first gold medal in the Olympics

He’s so excited and happy he blabs about it on an interview

Like, “[Name]-chan! Are you watching?! I love you so much, I can’t wait to go back home!” and then 5 seconds later it hits him

Everyone: ??????? You’re dating someone???? 

(How the hell did this loudmouth keep it a secret for this long)

Immediately slaps his mouth shut and begs them to delete the footage

But haha guess what

It’s live

Emo-mode: activated

Apologises to the camera, knowing you’re watching

And then in person as soon as he steps into your shared apartment

You’re fine with it though, just so happy that he achieved his dream

He just loves you even more now and you spend the day cuddling and kissing

He later uploads a photo of you sleeping in his arms, with your permission of course, onto his social media

With “My greatest love and support”

Hoshiumi Kourai

Hoshiumi, for reasons unknown to him, is extremely popular

He guesses it’s because of his volleyball skills, but somehow he’s become one of the nation’s most beloved celebrity

You’re so happy that he’s loved by the general population

But that means a lot of admirers and fans vying for his attention

Whenever he has interviews, “So and so named you as their ideal type” always comes up

Some of his teammates are kind of jealous of him (not Kageyama and Ushijima tho) but he just finds it annoying

Whenever he goes on radios and TV shows, it’s the same

And some news reporters speculate his relationship with every female (because they’re trash) he hangs out with

Which kind of makes you uncomfortable and insecure

Because all these famous people are gorgeous and influential

And you feel like he needs to be with someone his “level”

But he shuts all of them down by proclaiming his unending love and adoration for you

And that he loves you for who you are, not them

Otherwise why would he be in this relationship?

That makes you happier but he can see you’re still insecure and it breaks his heart

And so he asks people not to theorise or presume his personal life

But they still do (ugh)

One day he just snaps

Like full on scowls, annoyed at the reporter who was saying the same spiel

And says “I am currently in a happy 4-year relationship with my partner and do not appreciate people trying to ruin it. Leave us alone.” so coldly

You hug him when he returns home with a small “thanks”

Everyone stops their intrusion into his and your life

A happy ending :D

Miya Atsumu

Every one of his fans know that Atsumu’s personality isn’t great

So they were saying things like “he’s not going to have a partner”

Atsumu doesn’t give a damn about what they say though

Anyway, in one match, Sakusa and Atsumu get into a verbal fight

It’s after the match so there isn’t a problem with the regulations

It’s also kind of common between them

But it’s getting heated up and nearly physical, and everyone’s watching them

Just when Atsumu’s about to lose it, you call his name softly

He just immediately stops and goes to you, ignoring Sakusa completely

Everyone’s like ?????? Are my eyes working??? That can’t be Miya Atsumu???? What???

And he’s leaning into your touch as you cup his face while reprimanding him

If you squint you can see dejected floppy dog ears and a sagging tail

You tell him to apologise because he instigated it, and he does with great reluctance

But you give him a smile and he’s in cloud 9

As soon as he finishes changing, he’s cuddling you while going on a date

Every time a fight nearly breaks out when you’re there, it’s immediately resolved as soon as you call for your boyfriend

After that, you were dubbed “dove” because it’s a symbol of peace and you were wearing white

Atsumu finds out and posts on social media: “Shouldn’t ya be calling them angel? ‘Cause they are!” 

Miya Osamu

Onigiri Miya is becoming really famous

Why?

1. The owner is hella hot 

2. It tastes so damn good 

3. The atmosphere in the shop is calming and serene 

4. The owner is really hot

And because Osamu is constantly working there, he becomes internet famous as well

And the fact that his twin is a national volleyball player helps

Tons of photos circulate the internet

Sometimes people come to eat as an excuse to see him

Soon he’s running an SNS page for the shop

But you’re the one that controls it

You’re Yachi’s senior in the ad design company, specialising in marketing 

And one Valentine’s Day you upload a special menu for couples

Like “limited-edition sakura mochi” or special drinks

And in the photo is you and Osamu, enjoying the menu in each other’s arms

You can feel the love blasting out of the screen

His eyes are so damn tender and filled adoration

Online fans are shook while regulars already knew

Comments are flooded with “noo my boi ;^;” and “ugh I knew he was too good to be single”

Tons of responses and visitors come for the day

And you’re helping out in the shop while lightly flirting with Osamu

Customers get food for the stomach as well as the eyes and heart

Some people come now just to ship y’all