#fanfiction isn’t even safe anymore

[soulless-bex]

the world is going to shit and i hate it

PSA: bot comments are taking over ao3

The above examples have been provided with the authors' permission to demonstrate what these look like.

Basic rundown:

They are all 3 sentences long

Perfect grammar, capitalization, and punctuation

Like absolutely flawless English teacher-style writing with only a single exclamation mark, ever

No mentions whatsoever of character names, settings, situations, or anything that could be tied to the story

The usernames may be identical to people who exist on ao3, but the name is not clickable, and no profile is associated with it EXCEPT when you directly search for that name. What this means: the comments come from an unregistered (not logged in) reader, bots scrape the site for real usernames, attach that to the comment, and post

Please spread the word about this so authors can filter comments and report them accordingly

There has been some speculation about why this is happening at all, and the best guess is that this is a feature that AI-training story-scraping tools are implementing to try and make their browsing traffic look legitimate

[cawyden-gaming]

Christopher Tester (Heinrix VA) voice acting a part of my fanfiction Immortalium.

It is a scene that isn’t posted yet that follows the game event in act 4 where the Rogue Trader can disappear again on a companion quest (spoiler for the companion below and in the video).

While sadly not in the game, I think we can imagine the emotions Heinrix must be going through at this moment:

He is angry with himself, that he wasn't able to prevent this from happening, angry with whoever is responsible for the Rogue Trader to disappear

He is emotionally hurt and in great pain as he just lost the woman (again), that he fell in love with

The sheer helplessness that he can't do anything to help her come back

There are moments where he clinges on hope and where he tries to keep control over his emotions, to distance himself from the pain like he always does

He is remorseful over things he said and did that hurt her, and the missed opportunities to make it right (this is specific for my fanfic)

The voiced scene is Heinrix trying to write a letter to his beloved Rogue Trader, even if his words might never reach her. While writing, he voices his thoughts about the whole ordeal.

I hope you enjoy Christophers very emotional performance as much as I did:

The whole text (as I mentioned, this is while he is trying to write a letter):

“Dear… no.”

“Lord Captain...”

“I... I lost you.”

“And now we are dragged against our will along the unpredictable currents of the warp, unable to steer a path of our own, to break away into realspace once again, a plaything of volatile forces. But we shouldn't even be here, it wasn't planned and the usual protocols and rituals were not done. What were you and Lady Cassia doing in the sanctum? Why was no one else informed? What were you hiding? Would you have told me if things had been different between us?”

“No. No! Right on this ship, right under my nose ... what am I not seeing?”

“Gone. How many hours have I spent in front of this accursed painting, looking for a sign, a trace, wondering if something would drag me through it like it did with you? Granting me relief by uniting me with you or a slow death of agony in the horrors of the warp.”

“Nothing. Despite everything I tried, everything I did, all the investigations, interrogations...can you believe that I even asked Idira for help, to listen to the voices in the warp against my better knowledge and judgement, still leaving me with nothing that brings me closer to you, to help you return.”

“What good is the authority of my position, years of experience that refined my skills and abilities, all my collected knowledge, even my sorcery, if it can't help me protect or save the one who matters most to me?”

“Trap after trap after trap we went through - with open eyes. Even the one I knew was coming. Whatever happened now, took me by complete surprise. It shouldn't have.”

“I can't sleep and I am too tired to think clearly anymore. I am at a loss.”

“No. Focus, van Calox. I won't give up - there must be an explanation, a solution, a better way than just waiting for another miracle to happen. I have to do something, anything to bring you back. It can't end like this.”

“Every day can be the last … I learned this lesson far too well – why didn't I act like it? Letting valuable time run through my fingers as if we had eternity to spend. As if there was for sure a tomorrow to tell you what I need you to know, to make things right, to get another chance to hold you, to be with you.”

“I only ever wanted to protect you. I failed. Again. Trying to keep you safe but all I accomplished was to push you away and to hurt your feelings in the process. I was blinded by revenge against the Xenos, for all the pain and suffering they had inflicted upon us. By my concern and fear it could happen again. If I had done things differently maybe... but now it's too late.”

“Hope. How often is it used as a tool, perverted in a cruel attempt to increase the pain of suffering? I have seen it countless times. Did it myself. And yet, it is all I have left. I hope for your safe return. For another chance for both of us, one I would dare not waste again.”

“Commoragh. We returned, against all odds. Maybe we were just pawns in a game of gods. I like to believe the Emperor watched over us in this forsaken place. I hope he still watches over you and helps you return once more, wherever you are. Because I, apparently, can't.”

“Please come back to me.”

[bloodibambiidoll]

You know all I’ve ever wanted to do was to create a space where not just everyone but the especially weirdos felt safe. And seen. Because I hardly ever see representation for people like me in fanfiction and I figured you know what? Maybe there’s somebody out there that feels the same way as me, and maybe I can make them feel included too.

But I just feel like I’ve been made to not feel safe in the safe space that I’ve created over and over again. I’ve never attacked anyone. Or bullied anyone. The only thing I’ve ever done is stand up for my friends when they were wronged. It genuinely just hurts my fucking feelings that people just hate me to hate me. I wish we could all just be nicer to each other. It’s really unfortunate that we treat each other this way.

It honestly breaks my heart because sometimes I just feel like I’m back in school, and I’m the weird girl that nobody likes just because of the way she is. I’ve been called names I haven’t been called since I was that age on this app. I’ll truly never understand this behavior. I’m sorry if I’ve ever hurt anyone’s feelings, or rubbed them the wrong way, I promise I never did it intentionally. But even if I did upset you, I don’t think I deserve to be attacked for it. If you’re upset with someone you can either keep scrolling and let it go or talk to them like a mature adult.

I’ve honestly lost hope at this point that it will be better. I took a break from Stranger Things and I came back in hope that maybe I could feel happy participating in it again but I’ve just been made to feel unsafe and scared of my inbox, yet again. I’ve found my peace on this app. It’s been truly fun for me again. And completely drama free. It’s been very eye opening to see that not every fandom is this way. That there’s still community and kindness. It just really fucking sucks that the one that means so much to me isn’t a space I feel safe in anymore. I’m thankful to each and every person that’s ever been kind to me, read my works, been my friend, accepted me or just supported me in any way. You’re all wonderful.

[bloodblanks]

pumpkin head [ticci toby x reader] — prologue.

Life wasn’t always easy. But when it got hard, Y/N had a solution: take a hollow plastic pumpkin and put it over her head. No, seriously. It helped. It’s a valid coping mechanism, goddammit. But then Toby Rogers, a homeschooled outcast who might be even more of a freak than she is develops a morbid interest—or what normal people call a crush—on her. And she’s also getting stalked by a mysterious entity called the Operator. All of a sudden, Y/N’s plastic pumpkin isn’t enough to shield her away from the world and keep her safe anymore. No, she wasn’t going to take it off, but somehow, Toby was still interested in her even with it on.

co-written with @spookyravioli, please check her out! ♡

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mildly dark content, including abuse, alcoholism, mental health issues, unhealthy relationship dynamics, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

“If I can’t have you, no one can.”

Time seemed to stop. At first, it was in slow motion, the way his fingers, caked in coagulating crimson, took hold of the box of matches, the way he slid the case open, the way he reached inside, taking out a singular matchstick, the once pale and thin wood now also tainted red. It was still in slow motion, time appearing to stretch out endlessly as he brought the match to the rough brick-coloured sides of the box, swiping it across and striking a newborn flame, birthed from the friction.

But then he raised his hand out, fingers loosening their grip on the frail matchstick, and it was right then and there that time came to a startling halt.

The scene before her played out like a video that had just been put on pause. And she, too, was paralyzed, staring in horror at the sight before her, unable to move a muscle. In this frozen space of time, it was just the two of them—her, standing still, eyes wide in terror, and him, eyes downcast, the slightest hint of tears still visible, running along his waterline.

The match fell.

Dropped from his fingers and hitting the floor, the room was set ablaze in a matter of seconds, fire bursting from the kerosene that he had drenched the room with, fire licking at the carpet, eating up the furniture, devouring the walls.

Everything was suddenly illuminated with an amber glow, the colour of the flames reflecting perfectly in his eyes as he finally raised them, staring straight into her.

It was like they had just met all over again, the sweet amber hue of his irises captivating her own; she found fatal attraction in them like a moth would a flame. And burn she did indeed, as all the sweetness left his eyes, the hue replaced by the fire that burst out before her, the fire that sent her body harshly colliding against the hard tiled floor, fully engulfing her unprotected form like vines entangling themselves around her limbs, dragging her down into a world of blazing, scorching pain.

She didn’t even have time to scream; instead, violent coughs erupted from her throat as she curled up into herself, back hunched over and knees brought up to her chest, miserably trying to prop herself up on her elbows.

The air was stolen from her lungs, replaced with the thick, heavy coat of smoke that was slowly descending upon her, clogging up her airway and causing her eyes to sting in irritation. Her esophagus felt as if acid had been poured down her vocal cords, searing and burning through her flesh.

She made another effort to try to get up, weakly pushing herself up on all fours. Still, she barely crawled a few steps away before the agony of the flames devouring her skin and the pulsating pain of the smoke sending sharp icepicks inside her brain became all too much to bear for her, and she’d collapse back down.

She came to the conclusion, then, that this was it. This was the end for her.

She was going to die.

She was going to die, in the kitchen of the boy she thought she loved, the boy she thought she could trust, the boy she thought truly understood her in a world where she had been isolated for so long, up until the very second they met.

And then he had become the boy who she had become mesmerized with the very moment their eyes met, the boy who she had opened up to and seen as her very first friend, the boy who she allowed herself to be vulnerable with, trusting him with both her body and heart, believing that he wouldn’t break it.

Because if there was one person in the world that she could rely on to be there for her even if no one else was, it would be him.

But now here she was, alone, with no one by her side, not even him. Here she was, alone.

Dying.

She had given him all of herself, entrusted everything to be in his hands. Entrusted herself to be in his hands. And he had held it, treating it with care, treating it as something so delicate, so fragile—only to allow it to shatter.

As he loosened his hold on the tiny little matchstick, as his fingers splayed out, letting it fall to the ground, he had let her go as well.

Now there she was, on the ground, every inch of her ignited with sheer torment, surrounded by the flames of what she would think to be Hell if she didn’t know better, if she wasn’t so painfully alive still.

If she wasn’t so painfully alive, the events replaying over and over in her mind like a broken cassette tape. The thought of his betrayal, hot and fresh and deep, wounding her where it had hurt most on repeat. The sound of his voice, hurt and betrayed and resentful, his last words to her playing on a loop. The vision of his amber eyes, puffy and bloodshot and still harbouring the slightest hint of tears, narrowed at her in an ever-present glare, etched in her mind.

It was all that she could think of, hear, and see.

She wondered then, how did things come to this? What could she have done differently to prevent this from happening? What had she done wrong for this to happen? Where did she make a mistake?

Not that it mattered anymore, because dark spots were clouding her vision, and she could both feel and see the smoke thickening, smothering her and causing her eyelids to feel heavier with each passing second.

As her eyelids fluttered like the desperate wings of a moth trying to fan out its own flames, she could feel her body’s desperate plea for her to just close her eyes, allow the fire to consume her, consume her just like he had, with the tender touch of his fingertips and the passionate movement of his lips.

He had taken everything from her, the fire finishing up the one last thing—her life.

As her fatigued eyes opened for the final time, through the spots in her vision, the haziness of her tears, and the dancing of the flames, was the silhouette of the tall man.

The horror of the realization dawned upon her, and at that moment, she too was burning, seething in pure blazing rage.

But what hurt the most, feeling like a spear of torment piercing straight through her heart, was that before her eyelids fell to a close, finally submerging her in the reprieve of unconsciousness—

She met his eyes one last time.

His bittersweet, amber eyes.

next chapter ->

[noxcheshire]

Deathstroke kept working at the lock on the upstairs window while talking to him, calling him "Nightwings secret son" in the creepiest voice Danny has ever heard as Danny watched him from the computer monitor. This guy had been trying to break in and kidnap Danny for days but the house keeps fighting him off and Danny was on his very first stay-cation away from ghosts. He wasn't going to deal with this wierdo if he could avoid it.

He had put a lot of work into setting this up. He and Jazz had convinced thier parents to go to a two week occult conference in Fawcett City and leave Danny home alone while Jazz was off taking collage classes in Central City in hopes that it will help her get into her dream collage when she turns 18. Danny even sent Vlad on a while goose chase that sent him into the path of that trench coat guy people kept warning him about before shutting down the portals.

Danny refuses to let all of his effort go to waste and the house is pretty well defended so he decided to just use this as entertainment as he munches on dry cereal.

They didn't have any popcorn in the house and he's not leaving with captain crazy still out there.

Eventually Danny gets bored and @s Nightwing on Chirper simply telling him that Deathstroke was trying to kidnap him and it has something to do with Nightwing. He sends him a fail compilation video of all the times Deathstroke failed to get into the house and getting progressively more angry. The last video showed Deathstroke absolutely enraged.

Danny thought that Nightwing probably had a similar situation with Deathstroke that Danny himself have with Vlad and that he'd laugh and show it to all his superhero friends and they'd mock him together.

He was not expecting half of the batclan in Amity Park 3 hours later. Nor was he expecting to get kidnapped by the bats the moment he was out of the house.

He was most upset by everyone calling him a dick though. Was what he did really that bad? Talking back to adults usually didn't get him anywhere so he just kept quiet and went with them, expecting to have to give testimony to the police or something.

[quietmunn]

THE TALES OF V

Sketch made by my friend @enshant

Also posted on Ao3

A/N: Hi, this is my first time posting fanfiction here. I write pretty slow and try to check grammar, but there still might be mistakes, sorry

Word count: around 5k

Summary: Mutagen appears in NYC again and the boys need to figure out what's going on. They try their best to collect the ampoules thrown around, yet one gets taken by a 'stupid' girl, who has a weird way of forming friendships...

CHAPTER #1 - Turtle-lover 

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

A year has passed since the invasion of Krang that was successfully disrupted by fellow mutant ninja turtles. They decided to stay the way they were since childhood – hidden from humans above, however, from now on they have friends and connections to help them out in keeping New York safe. What can go wrong? Shredder isn’t there anymore, Krang too, so mainly they must deal with some arrogant baddies causing problems on the streets. And it’s not boring at all for heroes like these four...as it seems, at least. 

“BOOYA!” Michelangelo bursts through the tunnel of the lair, trying to do a double backflip on his skateboard. He speeds a full circle but instead of continuing the way forward to the high-angled wooden platform he keeps spinning in the tunnel. “Woah-ah, I feel lunch pizza begging for freedom...” 

“Ew, Mikey, keep it inside.” The leader in blue says as he stops the skateboard with his foot; he just came out of the dojo after a long session of meditation accompanied by Master Splinter. Transport might’ve been stopped, but Mikey hasn’t- his mutant body almost got slammed against the round brick wall, but Leo extended his hand in front of him in time. “Next time be careful to not get stuck in a loop.” Leo chuckles. 

Donatello is sitting at his working desk in a nearby room, his lab, slurping grape juice as he studies the recent news and listens to the walkie-talkie that stands near his table lamp, but nothing interesting comes through – only simple observations from policemen with comments like ‘sector is clear’ or ‘bad guy found’ or ‘who took all the toilet paper from the station’s bathroom’. Yet that was until loud beeping made him jump in his shell-shaped seat, box of juice fell onto the floor, leaving the straw to hang from the corner of his mouth. “Guys! Come here, we have a problem!”

“What’s up?” Raphael asks, a towel hangs from his neck because he finished a heavy workout seconds ago. Leo and Mikey paddle over to see what happened too; now the three stood behind Donnie and stared in shock at the sight of multiple red dots covering the map of New York. 

“Yo...what’s that?” A slow whistle comes from Michelangelo, and he leans forward to the screen as if looking closer and narrowing his eyes would help him to divide a few dots glued together in one place. 

Raph shoves his face away. “Let us see too.” He grumbles, his face turning even more serious than it usually is when he notices the way Leo tensed up, his non-existent eyebrows furrowed together thoughtfully. 

“My detectors show a sudden wave of mutagen thrown around the city!” Donnie mumbles in a fast pace, his fingers flying from button to button on the keyboard in panic as he transfers the coordinates to his watch.

Three brothers from the back look at each other, then nod as the situation sinks in. “Let’s go. The faster we get rid of mutagen and find the source of it – the better.” Leonardo commands before each of them follows and, after gathering weapons and devices, ninja turtles jump out of an open manhole in a dark alley, finding their way up to the rooftop of a nearby building.

Their mutagen hunt started at 5 PM and continues for two hours straight now; brothers decided to split for a while, which did help to collect more mutagen vials than when they searched around as a crowd. But still, the four met in the last location, gathering the last piece of the hard day into their green hands. "So, here it is. Last container of mutagen has been found!” 

“Wow, great, brilliant. Now let’s move on, this mission is exhausting.” Donnie rolls his eyes at Raphael’s sarcastic comment, holding the container tightly in one hand while controlling the situation on the map that his watch shows. 

Mikey’s eyes immediately sparkle. “Oh, oh, can I carry it this time? Pretty please!”

Leonardo looks at him with slight worry; he doesn’t want to show distrust towards him, so, despite the mental conflict, he agrees. “Just hold it tight.” 

The turtle with the purple headband squints at the situation: their younger brother is far from the neatest of the four, but since Leo gives Mikey a chance, apparently, he will have to put up with it. Donnie hands him the mutagen ampoule, saying ‘be careful’ and ‘don’t drop it’ along the way, to which Michelangelo responds with a confident smile, acquired under the weight of new responsibility. “See? Everything is a-ma-zing.”

Raph tries not to smirk at Mikey’s words, but he doesn’t succeed in doing so, considering the twitch of his lips. “We should go-“ Before Raphael has time to finish, Mikey yelps because of the cry of some bird and drops the mutagen on the asphalt. Surprisingly, the capsule did not break right away and continued to roll on its own.  

“Mikey!” Older brothers shout in unison, staring at Michelangelo’s bashful expression.  

“Oops.” 

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

Another school day ends in turmoil: students run out of the building in a huge crowd immediately after the last bell from the secondary activities, but one girl is not in a hurry at all, nervously looking at the screen of her phone while the flow of people goes around her from all sides. 

"Mom, I'm done. Pick me up pls?” 

The answer did not come immediately, but it was obvious: "Mia, your mother is at the meeting, she can’t pick you up.” 

Well, yes, of course, how could it be otherwise? As if after every second refusal, she will suddenly agree and not ask her secretary to answer text messages. Mia leans against the concrete pillar that connects the school porch to the roof and takes a deep breath. Again, she has to walk home and catch a stuffy bus in almost pitch darkness, barely lit by the dim streetlamps of New York. 

Putting her hands into the pockets of her shabby white hoodie with green sleeves and a large tortoise patch on the front, she sets off alone, muttering irritated comments under her breath. But the path was not very calm: in the next alley a loud click caught Mia's attention. From the deep shadows a strange, tinted flask rolled to her feet, more like an orbital test tube with two holes plugged by two foreign bolts. "Is it some kind of sick joke?! Not funny!" 

Mia kicks the flask, causing it to fly off into a brick wall. A crack formed on the dark matte coating began to glow with an unfamiliar green light as a single drop of radioactive-looking substance slid down the glass. Her first thought was ‘a lava lamp’, but she deeply doubted this: if this was really a lamp, then why was it covered with a greasy layer of tint that hid its neon glow? And those giant bolts on the sides? It is completely incomprehensible how such ‘lamp’ would stand firmly on the table. 

After looking around and making sure that no one was there, Mia pulled her work gloves out of her bag and carefully lifted the capsule before carefully placing it in her pouch cracked upwards, so that nothing would leak out. 

"No, the bus!" The schoolgirl yells, holding the bag tight against her chest as she runs towards the bus stop.

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

"Well? Any ideas?" Raphael asks, plowing from roof to roof with his brothers to track at which stop that dumb curious girl will get off. 

"We need to take the mutagen at all costs, so I suggest that we follow her to the end. We'll decide on the next steps as things go along." Leo muses aloud before stopping as soon as he sees her get off the bus. 

This girl lives in Dumbo - pretty rich for a teenager. She enters a block of flats, and the boys watch intently at the lights flickering in the windows of each floor through the camera of Donnie’s drone. They know it is disrespectful to peek into windows like that, but it is for the safety of people, so it’s fine. 

“That window. There’s even a fire escape we can use.” Raphael points at the third floor, apartment to the left, and then folds muscular hands in front of his plastron. “You know, I’m kinda starting to like this mission.” 

“Wait, are we actually planning to break into someone’s apartment?” The brainiac brother glances at them, eyes wide behind his goggles. 

Leo sighs, then nods. “We don’t have other choice, what if she decides to drink it or touches it? Having a person turn mutant against their will is the least we need to happen. Mikey, Raphael, stay on the fire escape for the rescue. Donnie, we’ll go in together.” 

Mikey’s expression turns a tad upset, but he walks after his brothers anyway. “Aw man, why can’t I go in too?” 

Raphael tchs. “Mikey, are you for real right now?” Seeing his brother’s sour face he softens a bit, giving his shoulder a brotherly pat once they arrived at the fire escape ladder. 

Another glance into the window...No one around, seems like she left her room for now. Donatello opens the window with his tools and fast enough he and Leo slide inside, silently landing onto the floor. The room felt like an oasis – green wallpapers, soft blue light surrounding the space. A bed stood in the corner in front of the window along with a small bedside table on which stood a small glass aquarium. Inside of it, as it seems, the girl placed the mutagen vial vertically so that it doesn’t spill anywhere else. Smart. Above the bed, on the ceiling, were glued biology related posters and a small, printed picture of a kitten swinging on a rope that says: ‘hang in there’. 

Two brothers made their way forward to take mutagen out, careful to not knock anything off considering their big shells, when a chirp made them freeze in place. A tortoise with a comically small black cylinder on its head noticed intruders from a huge round terrarium that occupies the most part of the room. It also has a handmade wooden desk attached to it from one side. 

“Well, that’s awkward. Don’t give us away, please.” Donnie comments quietly when his gaze meets the turtle’s. 

Then sound of nearing steps makes them gulp; genius brother quickly grabs mutagen and, as he almost reached the window to escape with Leo, the door clicked open. Mia enters the room yawning, all prepared for sleep; baggy pajamas all painted in star pattern sat on her small form, long ash-brown locks hang freely over her shoulders and glasses grace her pale face. 

Her destination immediately switches to her pet turtles in the terrarium, and she sits onto her spinning chair, rolling to the side of turtles’ home to see them closer. “Hi Molly, hi Holly, hi Big George.” She greets them, placing a palm against the warm glass. Soft chirping can be heard in response as three turtles see Mia and step closer to the barrier. “The only guys happy to see me, huh? Well, I’m happy to see you too, it was a tough day.” 

Oh, little did she know there were not one, but four mutant turtles unintentionally eavesdropping, and two of them held for life on her ceiling. Leo supports Donnie with one hand since he holds the ampoule, and they took their breath, afraid to make themselves known so easily. 

“The heck are they doin’??” Raphael whispers to himself as they watch from the outside. 

“Ooo, this gives me Spider-Man vibes. Maybe this bae is Mary Jane?” Mikey giggles, finding the situation amusing no matter how many eyerolls he gets from his brother in red bandana. 

“I wish I could take you with me, it would make me feel better at school for sure. Well, at least not as lonely,” Mia sighs, now pressing her forehead against the glass, Holly squeaks in return, she is a sea turtle and wears a cute pink bow. It makes the girl smile; she spins around to take out fresh salad leaves from a container and puts a few into the terrarium for them to snack on. With a creak of the chair she stands up, heading to turn off the lights and go to bed when a bright green drop falls before her eyes and lands by her feet. She slowly looks up, blinking a few times to make sure if what she is seeing is real. The amount of curse words flying across Donnie’s mind is indescribable; he should’ve taken the aquarium too to avoid this from happening but failed to do so because they were in a panicked hurry. 

“Turtles...Human-sized turtles...In my room.” Mia stares at them, glasses slide down her nose in surprise. But it isn’t a look of fear, no, it is pure fascination, curiosity. “Turtles in my room! There are big turtles in my room!” The girl begins jumping excitedly, speaking in squeaky voice like a fangirl on her favorite artist’s concert.

Leonardo jumps down, gently stopping her in place by putting his large green hands onto her shoulders; she was near to stepping into spilled mutagen on the floor. “Miss, please, stop.” He felt utterly confused, like the rest of his brothers, even Donnie kind of squeezed into himself with the ampoule as he joined Leo downwards. Usually people scream and call them ‘monsters’, not turn all excited and happy – it’s their first time experiencing such encounter. Mikey, however, felt quite engaged as he watched this unroll with Raph, who looked just as astonished, through the open window. 

Mia took a deep breath to calm down and once Leo was sure she wouldn’t move energetically like she did, he backed his hands away. “We’re here to take this with us. It is a very dangerous chemical which you picked up by mistake. Now, if you excuse us, we’ll leave and you will keep your mouth shut about us, got it?” He says in a stern tone, making her feel a lump in her throat. “If you tell someone – we’ll know about it and find you. It won’t be nice at all.” 

She nods frantically. Donnie wipes the neon liquid on the floor while Leo politely threatens the poor girl; it’s not the first time they do that, this happened with April too. Except she didn’t listen to them at all as it later turned out, trying to use them as a plot for her journalistic job. 

“Who are you?” Her voice sounded normal, much better than that torturing high-pitched noise she made a few moments ago. As two brothers get out her window, she walks closer, now realizing that there are four of them on the metal stairs.

Turtle in the orange headband turns to look at her with a smile once others jumped off to leave silently. “Your best nightmare, angelcakes.” He responds, winking cheekily before disappearing into the night too.

Mia follows them with her gaze in awe. This meeting will keep her awake for a long time... 

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

Test tubes and papers scattered around the lab, fluorescent lamps above feel almost blinding, enough to make anyone suffer from a headache if they stay here too long. Dr. Stockman is standing at the long lab table, watching the chemicals flow from one vial to another, filtering into green glowing substance that fills huge glass container in the center of the room. At the moment only quarter of it is filled, but with each drop the contains rise, disrupting annoying white lightning by its own neon glow. 

“It seems like you memorized the creation of mutagen quite well, Dr. Stockman. I have to admit that I’m impressed.” Sacks watches his colleague, genuinely surprised by his abilities. It’s been a few months since new leader of Clan Foot, Karai, got him out of prison, now he is working alongside Stockman on recreation of mutagen which already turned out to be a success thanks to mutants Bebop and Rocksteady. This time mutagen was more powerful than before, much more reactive – a single drop can cause a massive disaster, yet there they were, following Karai’s orders and creating more and more of it. 

“It’s nice to hear from you, Mr. Sacks.” He responds with an awkward smile, glancing at Eric who leaned side-ways against the corner of the table, his expression might be friendly but it’s obvious his real feelings towards Stockman are complete opposite from what his face shows. This black man was betrayed by Shredder and, before he was able to go against Clan Foot, the soldiers captured him, so now he is used in interests of Karai, specifically - scientific ones. And after what happened to his sensei, Eric will do anything for revenge, even if that means pushing a fool like Stockman to his limits. “I need to use the bathroom, can you look after all this, please?”

“Sure.” Eric nods, his gaze following the man as he heads to the exit before focusing back on the filtering process. 

On the way out of the lab Stockman is met by two sharp blades crossed at his neck; two Foot soldiers stood at each side of the door like guard dogs, ready to pounce at any moment. “Where are you going?” One of them asks. 

The doctor rises his hands submissively and clears his throat a bit, words leaving his mouth with a stutter. “B-bathroom.” Only then the blades are lowered, and soldiers follow him to the toilets located down the corridor of the complex. It was hidden beneath the ground, outside New York, and used to be an abandoned bunker until Foot took over it long time ago, back when Shredder wasn’t taken by Krang for its collection of ice figures.

Soon enough they arrive, soldiers already guarding the door as Stockman gets inside. He closes the door behind him, walking over to the sinks to splash some water on his face before he looks up at his reflection in the mirror; dark circles visible beneath his eyes; moustache gotten out of control and a beard formed on his face; curly hair faced the same, looking like a badly shaped cloud. Of course, if he lived in better conditions, he’d take care of himself properly, but while he’s among the Foot he is nothing but a tool. 

His hand dives underneath the lab coat into the hidden pocket of his shirt and retrieves with a small test tube filled with mutagen, wrapped in a handkerchief. He looks back at the mirror, his breathing turning shaky. “Okay, okay, let’s weight pros and cons, Baxter. Pros – I become an unbelievably strong mutant and get out of here, cons – I lose my handsome face...and some rationality too.” Stockman releases a heavy sigh, already preparing to pour that liquid down his throat, when a loud knock makes the vial drop from his hand, shattering into little crystals of glass sparkling in the green puddle of mutagen. 

“Ten minutes passed! Leave or we’ll take you out ourselves.” 

“Shit.” Baxter gathers himself together, avoiding dangerous chemical on the floor as he leaves the men’s bathroom in disappointment. Then, soldiers nudge him to go back to the lab, not leaving his side even for a moment.

Toxic smell in the bathroom attracts a housefly that flies around without a single thought in its little head. It landed onto the dirty tiled floor, crawling closer and closer towards the tantalizing substance before little feet gather some of it to taste. 

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

“All these locations make no sense. The only thing here making sense is that it happens in New York.”

“Casey, are you seriously implying that New York is the only city where weird stuff happens?” April’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, hands resting on her hips as she glances at him and then back at the map hanging on the wall in Donnie’s lab. Jones responds with a ‘duh’ expression; he is a detective and he’s seen stuff in NYC that is impossible to describe, and his friends are literally four turtles and a rat, who know ninja-something martial arts. 

“Please, be quiet for a moment, I think I found something...” The genius turtle types on keyboard with the speed of light, sitting scrunched at his desk. “There are camera records you should look at.” He turns the monitor to their side, the two step closer, watching the videos on the display; each managed to capture bikers going in and out of the alleyways where the turtle brothers found mutagen. Don pauses the video and zooms in onto biker’s shoulder – the Foot emblem.

A hand glides down Casey’s face as he stares at the screen in disbelief. “Clan Foot is back...” He murmurs loud enough to hear, then turns around and kicks the air in frustration. So long working his ass off in the NYPD just for the Foot to be back again. “So? Any ideas about where they came from?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out! It’ll take some time to track them though.” Donnie sighs, diving head-deep into his work right away. He’ll have to follow one of the bikes by connecting videos from the cameras together. 

“Do what you need,” Leo approves, he was standing in the doorway the entire time. He is already working on a plan in his mind to use once his brother finds the source of the trouble. “April, Casey, thank you for cooperation, it means a lot like always.” 

“Dude, you’re so polite sometimes that it makes me feel really awkward- ow!” Casey muses, but then April nudges his ribs with her elbow. He uses both hands to shield his side from the evil woman, ready to attack back if she tries the trick again. 

“Don’t listen to him, Leo. We’re more than glad to help.” She smiles softly, even when her boyfriend is looking daggers at her for interrupting him like this. 

Repetitive sounds of fists rhythmically hitting the punching bag echo through the lair as Raphael works out alone, wanting to distract himself from nagging thoughts and burn some energy. Meanwhile his younger brother has other plans; his footsteps are light when he sneaks his way to the exit of the lair, managing to stay unnoticed by Master Splinter, who is meditating behind dojo’s closed doors. But not sneaky enough, considering that Raph saw him passing by. Just as Mikey is about to reach the exit tunnel, the grumpy brother loudly clears his throat, causing youngest to turn around slowly – his blue eyes meet suspicious green. 

“Where are ya going?” Raphael steps forward in an intimidating way, which makes Mikey gulp even though he knows his older brother would never be mad at him as much as the other two. Well, unless Leo is near, but thankfully he is not. 

“To the Halloween parade…?” Mikey ‘admits’, hands squeezing the skateboard he presses against his plastron protectively. 

Raph lets out a thinking hum and narrows eyes, totally not buying it. “In the middle of September?” That was until a smirk formed on his serious mug. “I’m going with you. Let’s say we’re going to patrol early today.” 

“Hell yeah!” Michelangelo jumps excitedly and watches his usually impulsive brother inform the rest about ‘patrol’ before he grabs his own skateboard and the two set off into the tunnel. After a few minutes of racing through the sewer system, they slide open a manhole in one of the Brooklyn’s alleyways. 

Big terrapins climb up onto the rooftop, setting their skateboards down to finally put their riding skills to use as they glide along the edges of the roof like a fury. The excited yell of “Cowabunga!” and noise of small plastic wheels clanking against the scratchy surface spread across the sleeping city. Two brothers land with a trick onto a flat rooftop, sharing a high five. “Sick move, bro.” Mikey winks, earning a light flick from Raphael, when sudden screams close by distract them, making both flash towards the rooftop’s edge to see what’s going on.

These screams are coming from the amusement park nearby and they aren’t casual scared whimpers of people riding the extreme roller-coaster, no, there’s an entire night crowd running away. 

“Uhh, should we like...call Leo or somethin’?” Turtle in orange gazes at the whole situation with confusion, still unable to figure out what is happening there. 

“Nah, we’ll work it out ourselves. Let’s go.” Raph cracks his neck and takes out Sai from his belt, spinning them a little for show-off before jumping down onto the roof of a lower building nearby, heading towards the park. 

Hiding behind a ticket booth, they look out, finally realizing the problem. There’s a big, mutated housefly flying around and spitting acid at the attractions, causing the steel constructions to collapse. “Bzzz-bzzz, stupiddd hummmansss, runnn!” 

Raphael makes a grossed-out face at the sight; he is not fond of bugs in general, especially ugly ones like that thing. “Hey, shit-eater, maybe you’ll fight someone your size?” He taunts with a whistle, stepping into its view alongside Mikey.

“Turtlzzz, how irrrronic,” The fly buzzes, rubbing its front two limbs in amusement. “So brrrave of you to prrrotect those who don’t even see you as herroesss, but monsterrrrsss. Aren’t you tired of such life? Why not join me in creation of ourr own world?” 

“Damn, you sound like you have no life at all.” Mikey comments, angering the flying mutant. It quickly gathers enough saliva to make its cheeks seem like they’re about to blow up before shooting out explosive balls of sticky substance at the terrapins, who run away from them ninja-style, throwing shurikens at this ugly only to watch them get dissolved mid-air. 

Brothers hide for a moment behind one of the café banners for a moment; a drop of the acid got onto Mikey’s carapace, making a string of steam raise in the air from that spot until Raphael wiped it quickly with the bandage wrapped around his wrist. “Okay, Plan B, call guys-” Raph finally agrees, dodging another caustic blob that made a hole in the banner as it flew a centimeter away from his face. 

“Ahh!” Mike yells a little when the fly throws spit way worse, destroying the wooden banner altogether. He rolls away with Raphael, back on the run again as he searches for Leonardo’s contact on his phone. “Leo! We’re at the Marine Park, we have an emergency!”

“Hah! How long are you planning to rrrun?” It laughs, but not for long – a roar sounds from behind, turning into full-speed wheeze of a drifting vehicle. A random vigilante uses the collapsed metal constructions as a trampoline, flying up on a motorcycle into the housefly’s direction. Barbed tires drive along the trajectory of its face before landing onto the rooftop of a ticket booth. 

“Wow.” Turtle in red is genuinely impressed, even his younger brother stopped in tracks at the sudden escalation of events. 

Yet the bug didn’t plan to give up so easily, soon it swapped into the air again, this time focusing solely on this armoured interrupter. From afar it looks like a tall slender guy, fully dressed in a thick black leather suit with pieces of armour attached to their shoulders and legs, making them look like a character straight from D&D. A mask and a hood hiding their head don’t give out a single guess of who this might be.

“You,” The fly hyperventilates, turning red at the prospect of being treated like this by some freak. “How dare YOU! You will pay forrr that, you hearrr me?! I will-!” 

Michelangelo catches it with the chains of his nunchakus, making it flop onto the ground without a way to move. “Didn’t rodeo that, did ya?” The youngest chuckles before the damn bug dissolves the chain with its spit. Right. Acid. But before it got up again, someone knocked it out with a tranquilizer.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Raph's tone drips with sarcasm, trying not to show that he is relieved by the fact that Don and Leo are here. 

“We’d have gotten here faster if you’d alerted us earlier.” The leader states in full seriousness, disappointed by the fact Mikey called him in the middle of the fight. What if both of them got injured? You never know how strong the opponent is. 

Meanwhile Donnie observes the mutant he shot with his tranquilizer gun, pulling out a little flashlight to see how its eyes react to it. “Fascinating...” While pointing the light, he notices the tire trail imprinted into its skin. “Mikey, Raph, what also happened here?” 

“Oh man, some wild stuff happened. So, we were having a skating sesh when we heard screams. This flying dude was terrorizing the people and spitted out these gross acid bombs, so we started the fight with it, but then an epic guy dressed like batman flies out on a motorbike and knocks the fly out!” Mikey starts to explain, energetically hand gesturing stuff that happened. 

“An…epic guy dressed like batman?” Leo repeats after him, feeling both amused and confused. 

“Yeah, bro!” The youngest nods with wide eyes and points at the ticket booth. “They were right- there…” 

“Seems like they got away already. Didn’t even bother to take the bike with them.” 

“Let’s leave it to the officers. For now, let’s make sure nobody got trapped under all this metal.” Leo commands and the four split to check the territory of the Marine Park.

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

“WOOOHOO! If only you saw me there, guys!” Mia enters her bedroom through the window, immediately sharing everything that happened to her. “I was, like, all dramatic there, flew up on a moto and smashed the bad guy. And the two of them saw me and I was trying so hard to not show how nervous I was!” 

She straddles over to the painting hanging on the wall behind the big terrarium and moves it to the side with one hand while emptying the contents of her backpack into the hidden locker. Her black leather costume and armour scatter down with a bunch of clinks. “Ew, I should totally put these into the washing machine.”

Her pet turtles though remain weirdly quiet, which catches her attention. “What’s wrong?” She glances over the glass, being met with Molly’s sceptical gaze. “Come on, I have a plan just like always. And, after all, I do it all for good.” The girl reassures, though an anxious chuckle leaves her throat.

[gregoftom]

oh absolutely, i’ve unfortunately gotten a look up close and personal on the twitter space and like, i do not have the time of day to block that many people. reddit was a disappointment i should’ve expected, i really finished the show and thought time to check out some fun post series discussion and fan theories, only to see it was a cannibalistic black hole of hatred and horrible takes. let me tell you to realize your favorite character who has brought you great comfort over these past four seasons is actually despised by a loud portion of the audience when he’s hardly even the most morally bankrupt character on a show where the point is no one is a good person is certainly an.. interesting experience. i’ve found fanfiction to be the only safe space in that regard really, and links to posts on tumblr in some of them and riffling through those are how i found your blog. if you have some recs i’d appreciate that! i’m much more of a lurker and don’t really blog myself anymore but i do enjoy browsing and seeing that the fandom isn’t completely devoid of reasonable people ❤️

exactly! i’m sorry again that like, your first experience going into the fandom is so horrific and yeah sadly tumblr is the only bastion that is somewhat reasonable, lol, at least compared to other platforms. all i can say is don’t worry because a few people relate, including me like, can’t really think of another hivemind hatred of a character that has happened this badly before to the point of making ppl genuinely adverse to the fandom [obviously i could be wrong i've not seen every fandom ever lol but] apart from maybe mulder from x files? but it’s the same shit really. it suddenly started cropping up, even though he was originally a fandom favourite. i could go into more detail but the point is, you’re not alone but i am sorry and there are some greglovers around!

oh yeah fanfic is a good safe haven for that kind of thing, and a few blogs. okay let me see now, i might miss some ppl out bc there are actually quite a few i know of that are sweet ppl who like/love greg and tomgreg, but i would also hope that ppl who see this post and love tomgreg/greg would please like it/reply so that anon can follow your stuff? would be great! okay.

@gemsofthegalaxy , @racheldowneyjrr , @gregwambsganss , @fantasticskystuff , @jana-ebb , @keinbutterdieb , @purplemotif , @watchfuldeer , @100dabbo , @rebvilla , @waystartoo , @succcesssion , @trwinsome , @dogmotifgreg , @jezter911 , @laysidel-dekie , @sirnortsalot , @duelsong , @lanrre , @tommywambs , @daydreamingleaf , @mushroomheadgirl , @gregkinz , @wambs , @twinge-of-cosmicangst , @swaystar .... andddd i think that's everybody i can think of, but as i said if anyone wants to sound off to announce themselves too please do so!

good luck to you anon and welcome <3

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fic Titles That Are Questions (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

Am I Pretty? (ao3) - heymoons

Summary: Dan is an intern at the BBC who moonlights as a cam model. He’s worried about being judged for his secret, until he meets Phil and everything changes.

Can I Borrow A Kiss? (I Promise I’ll Give it Back) (ao3) - tjmcharg

Summary: Lots and lots of different kisses.

Can I Even Complicate Your Breathing? - botanistlester

Summary: Pastel!Dan lives in an apartment complex and sits on his windowsill every night and sings. Punk!Phil listens to him every night.

Can You feel The Love Tonight? - nebulous-frog

Summary: Phil sings with the door open while he’s folding laundry and Dan overhears. Phil’s completely tone deaf and doesn’t know any of the lyrics, but that won’t stop him, dammit, no matter how many times people ask him to seriously just stop. Dan thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

“Did you ever doubt that your dream will ever come true?” - secretlywritingstories

Summary:As Phil reads out the question, Dan’s involuntary reaction is to smile and glance towards him. He hides it pretty well during the live show but as soon as it’s over, he begins to fully appreciate that his dream did come true.

did you know penguins mate for life? (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: Phil takes care of fifty penguins at work and another twenty-five at home, though the latter wasn’t exactly his choice.

Do You Believe In Magaic? (ao3) - darkesthorizon

Summary: Dan discovers a meadow of flowers where fairies made of flowers can grant you one wish. But there’s a catch: your wish has to be pure. What does that even mean?

do you feel it too? (ao3) - heartsopenminds

Summary: A bad break-up has left Phil scared of getting his heart broken again. He’s not ready to date, but he’s missing the easy affection of a long-term relationship.

Cuddle therapy might be the perfect way to get what he needs, with no strings attached. But what happens when that’s no longer enough?

Do You Sleep Anymore? -  botanistlester

Summary: Phil has insomnia and Dan has bruises on his knuckles.

Ever Wonder What Stars Taste Like? (ao3) - ncirpng

Summary: au where Phil runs a successful café in Paris and Dan is a shy fashion designer. Their paths cross, which leads to an unhealthy amount of awkwardness and a lot of weird sentences (mostly from Phil).

Ghost, Or Spirit Satyr? (ao3) - cuddlepuss

Summary: Phil moves into a new flat, but is haunted by a young male poltergeist that he finds both amusing and attractive.

Have You Read the One Where I Have a Vibrator? (ao3) - Ironicallyiron

Summary: Dan reads Phil a fanfiction.

How Did We End Up Like This? - xinyanhowell

Summary: They knew falling in love isn’t a choice - but staying in love, working out your problems and inconstancies, that’s the most powerful choice you have.

How Do Flowers Grow? - writeroflies

Summary: Dan knows he is that single annoying cloud in an otherwise clear sky and Phil is the sun, happy, bright and warm. He wants to know why Phil is letting him stay in the sky beside him.

Is Our Love Valid? (wattpad) - phanetexplorer

Summary: dan is alone. he always has been. he would spend day in and day out on multiple chat websites hoping one day he indeed will find a friend.that is, until a certain boy named phil lester sends a chat request to him, and he flips his shit. some one had finally wanted to be his friend, but maybe he gets more than he had originally bargained for.

Isn’t He Pretty? Isn’t He Insane? - daeguk

Summary: in a world where a person’s soulmate has an identical birthmark, police intern phil lester is completely alone; that is, until he starts receiving cruel gifts from a psychotic serial killer. seeking out the comfort of a boy on the phone, dan howell, while desperately trying to figure out the killer’s messages, time is running out by each fractured second.

Is Our Secret Safe Tonight? (ao3) - resurrectdead

Summary: That time I fell in love with the semi-realistic idea of Dan as an anonymous camboy and then I made Phil walk in on him mid-show.

is that as good as it gets? (ao3) - dvp_95

Summary: Having Dan around makes it all so much easier that Phil can’t imagine a life without him now. He fits into the places where the rest of Phil should be, allows Phil to settle into shape around him.

Wait, Where Have I Seen Those Before? - poetictragediess

Summary: Phil would never admit he’d signed up for such a website as camboys, especially not to his best friend/flatmate.

What Happened Last Night? (ao3) - duskomybloom

Summary: Things get complicated when Dan wakes up in Phil’s bed after a party and he has no idea how he got there.

when i run (will you chase after me?) (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan escapes from the megacorporation that he's contracted to but plans go astray and he ends up leaving his partner Phil behind, who gets tasked to catch him in his run across the solar system.

when it feels like nothing else matter, will you put your arms around me? (ao3) - commonemergency

Summary: “Sorry.” Phil says.

His father wraps his arms around him, and the embrace feels warm. It’s an embrace that he hasn’t felt in a long time. It’s like when he was a kid and something scary happened and his father just held him like nothing could ever hurt him because his father was there protecting him.

“It’s okay.” His father quietly whispers into his hairline. “It’s okay.”

He didn’t know how to tell him all the things that he wanted to say, like: I don’t know how to stop my thoughts from spiralling out of control. What if the medicine makes it worse? What do we do if things don’t get better? How do I live in a world that doesn’t have my dad in it?

“Let’s just enjoy right now.” His father says, and he doesn’t let go of him.

Wishing You Could Kiss Me (Do You Really Want To Do That?) (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: In which Phil’s childhood crush on Dan ends dramatically, and he’s living proof to not judge a book by its cover.

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: The Fine Print

Anthony Crowley sells computer systems to London businesses–and specializes in sneaking extra charges and fees into the associated contracts. It’s not his fault no one actually reads the paperwork before signing it. He thinks mild-mannered bookshop owner Aziraphale Fell will be an easy mark; surely no one that old-fashioned and dotty will spot a few carefully-worded technical clauses in his contract. And then Aziraphale comes back with some very polite, very pointed questions – and Crowley decides that maybe pulling off the sale isn’t his first priority anymore…

Length: 42,219 words

AO3 Rating: Teen and Up

Best for: Pick-me-up, Safe in Public, Comedy, Human AU

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by curtaincall

*Minor Spoilers* This one made me smile so wide after! This is a lighthearted, fun, and energetic Human AU. Crowley is a computer system sales rep with a bit more than a professional interest in his latest client. More than just a meet cute, it gives our duo a case to solve when Crowley is told to drop Aziraphale as a client. Sure, you know who the bad guy is going be since it's a fanfiction (duh), but it's still a very fun journey! Also an excellent use of flirty bastard Aziraphale. Acting all innocent and naïve when he's anything but. I love that about him. All his protesting while actually preening over being fussed over. I'm weak for it. It's silly and I love silly. Excellent fic for being out and about. Easy to follow even if you keep getting interrupted from it, and no explicit content. This is a great one to queue up for passing time in public!

Read it here, fic by curtaincall

[depressedbagpipe]

about liam payne

let me preface this by saying i never thought i’d be writing a “statement” at the ripe age of 23. as a disclaimer, i do not condone his abusive actions and find them incredibly disgusting and immoral, but i’d also be lying if i said i don’t have conflicting emotions right now. this is me trying to explore them. 

i don’t think i’ve ever stated this before, but one direction made me the person i am today. those five lads were one of my main pillars during my adolescent life. they became my main motivation to pay attention during my english classes at school, and thanks to that i’m now building my career out of my second language. i got into fanfiction, discovering a safe space for me to destress and interact with other fans –not knowing i’d be 21 one day and writing crappy ben barnes stories that people would seemingly love, yet again motivating me to make my life-long dream of becoming an author another reality–. i logged into twitter for the first time and essentially made it my whole personality, finding a whole new world of entertainment where i could bond with anybody around the globe. but, most importantly, i met my former best friend, whom i have had the most amazing adventures with as we both grew up with the boys. 

one direction was my haven i came back to every day. i had to endure all types of comments from society, calling me crazy, obsessed, and childish. everybody made fun of directioners for being fangirls, and made fun of the guys too, as if they weren’t real musicians. i had to hide my directioner badge more than once because i knew i wouldn’t be taken seriously if i showed my true colors. experiencing those levels of misogyny at such young age would’ve been devastating had i not had them singing about how much they loved us. sure, the relationship was entirely parasocial and borderline problematic at times (remember that time some girls hacked the airport security just to see the guys through their screens?), yet, for a twelve-year-old who had no power in her own life, that was the safest net she could’ve gotten. 

their hiatus hit hard, because we weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. how do you move on from a band that has become one of your safety pins, that held you when nobody else did? deep down, i hoped they’d come back. we never got any closure, after all. one direction first cracked the day zayn left, but now, it has shattered completely. 

learning about liam’s past was tough. how could someone you admired for so long do such terrible things? i wanted to find solace in the fact that he was no longer the person he shared the stage with harry, louis, niall and zayn. i really wanted to separate the art from the artist, but i couldn’t. i even resented being a fan and supporting such a person in the past, but now, he’s officially gone. his victims won’t get any closure, and the culprits of leading such a young person towards his own hell won’t get justice either. it just isn’t fair.

grief is a funny thing, though. we’re all mourning someone he wasn’t for almost a decade. we’re grieving our childhoods and adolescence. we weep, because what once was, won’t be anymore. we lament the man he became, and all the pain he caused. yet all i can think about now is that 11-year-old who listened to ‘what makes you beautiful’ for the first time. that little girl who fought in the trenches to be heard and respected, and was instead ridiculed and shamed. she’s the one grieving. and i don’t know what to do anymore to protect her, and i wish i could.

[msnihilist]

you know about the fanfiction thing you said I remembered that I always wanted a long fic about ben which is about him disappearing and getting captured and and when while everyone think he's dead all the people who care about him come running to his rescue and kind of like help him to cure his mental or physical wounds but never really saw anyone writing it actually and I'm not that good to write something like this :( so I just wanted to know does anyone like something similar to this story lol

Well, anon, there are two sure-fire ways to get what you want: do it yourself, or pay someone else to do it. (I happen to take commissions, and I'm currently working on a Ben 10 one right now!)

I think you can do it yourself, though :) You already have an idea, and passion is the perfect starting point! Why not open a document and just write a scene that you think would be cool? You don't have to share it with anyone. Everyone starts somewhere.

I've actually got a WIP that's pretty similar to your idea that I'm about 8.5k words deep in. It's about Ben going missing and the lengths his friends go to in order to bring him home.

While I work on that, here's some already-posted Ben-whump fics to keep you busy, anon. And remember: leave comments if you want to foster a community. If you enjoy any of these fics, please let the author know!

These three are all oneshots.

Old Wounds, New Bruises by lenin_it_to_win_it

After seeing some of Ben's scars for the first time, Rook is determined to protect his partner from further injury. However, Ben's emotional wounds prove harder to manage.

Only Fools Would Love Me by Yalvaberry

"Ben, Ben, please, please, please no, I don't-" A sob.

Kevin looks back. His mind feels jumbled, split into two - Morgg is getting away! - but his feet don't want to cooperate, they seem to have a mind of their own as they carefully lead him back up the tunnel he came from.

"Ben, what do I-"

Kevin listens as he trudges back. The dirt crunches beneath his feet. Curiosity pulls at him, pushes him forward, morbid, because somehow, somewhere in his head, he thinks he already knows what he's going to see.

Set during the episode "...Nor Iron Bars a Cage" in Ultimate Alien. What if Kevin accidentally kills Ben inside the mines?

You Can Hold Him (Just Not Too Close) by MashpotatoeQueen

Ben puts the Omnitrix back on, and she stares at it in hatred- only for a moment though, just one moment- and wishes that her cousin had never found it. Because now Ben isn’t a fan of being held, not anymore, and the reason for it lies in that stupid watch.

(That stupid watch that saved the world, that makes Ben feel safe even as it puts him in danger.)

But she says nothing, nothing until late one night Ben calls her, and his voice is shaky and a little too high to be normal, breathing coming too fast and jokes falling a little flat, and she remembers the conversations at three AM in the old Rustbucket and this time she gets them for what they are.

She hums, says quietly, “Ben, you’re okay, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

And Ben laughs, except it sounds a bit like crying, and he’s murmuring about how sorry he is, about how he usually calls Grandpa Max, but that Grandpa Max is gone and he doesn’t know what to do-

“It’s fine.”

It’s not- her kid cousin being too terrified to be alone in the dark in his own room will never be okay- but she doesn’t say that. Just hums again, quietly, and says, “It’s fine, Ben,” and prays that it will be soon.

Here are some of my own fics that deal with Ben-centric hurt/comfort:

Nothing Left to Say

Gwendolyn makes the executive decision that Ben needs to be emotionally vulnerable for a day. The fastest and easiest way to achieve that is with a truth potion. It seems like a good idea on paper, but it soon becomes clear why the formula is a forbidden one.

Some things, it seems, are better left unsaid.

Meteor Shower

With the aftermath of Captian Nemesis’ escape from prison and Jennifer Nocturne’s alleged kidnapping, Kevin realized that he had some mending to do with his teammates. [Episode continuation of “Catch a Falling Star.”]

Put Your Strength Down

There's blood smeared on the doorknob when Sandra gets home. Her stomach clenches with worry, but it doesn't rattle her the way that it used to.

Every time she does this, Sandra reminds herself that it could always be worse.

Choose

The timer starts at fifty-nine, and it immediately begins counting down.

Kevin only has a minute to make a choice that he'll regret for the rest of his life.

Overload

Overloading the Omnitrix should be near-impossible, but as faulty as the Ultimatrix is, Ben really shouldn’t be surprised that it blows up in his face. Literally.

01001001

The Omnitrix had long-since been, well, attached to Ben’s wrist. Unfortunately, Ben didn’t anticipate just how far it would go to always be a part of him.

The World Grows Green Again

When Ben's life is saved by a masked stranger, it offers Ben and Rook a glimpse into a horrible future.

Diamonds Are Forever

A year after Petropia’s re-creation, Ben and Rook are assigned a deceivingly simple job on the planet — overseeing an "official yearly Plumber check" to ensure that societal development and reassimilation with the galaxy is going smoothly.

With Tetrax acting as their guide, it soon becomes clear that not all is as it seems. Digging through conspiracies and figuring out who can be trusted, they find that the glittering surface of the planet is covering a horrible plot against the Petrosapiens, which may hide roots closer to home than any of them realized.

NOTE: This is definitely the fic where I hurt Ben the most! Emotionally, psychologically, and especially physically. He leaves this fic permanently disfigured. Ben gets stabbed, passes out from blood loss, watches his allies get killed in front of him, is experimented on, fed through a tube, is betrayed again and again, and much, much more.

There's also a section of this fic where Ben is kidnapped and Rook, Gwen, and Kevin must work together to rescue him.

I tagged DAF with blood and gore, body horror, major injuries, and I'm not fucking joking!!

Anyway, anon, I hope that provides some reading material/writing inspiration :) Good luck! I believe in you!!!

[norbezjones]

AU-gust in September #28: Caretaker (Romance The Backrooms)

So, here’s the deal.  I couldn’t participate in my beloved AU-gust event last month, because I was busy.  So I thought, fuck it, I’ll just participate this month instead, because we as humans can do whatever we want, and screw the rules lmao!  And that’s what I’m doing.

The event is “supposed” to be for fanfiction, but I want to write AUs for my game Romance The Backrooms, a liminal space otome with 5 main love interests, so I’m gonna do that instead.  Like I said, screw the rules! X)

Since September has only 30 days, I’ll treat Day 31’s prompt as a Joker (aka a prompt I can switch out if I don’t like the day’s chosen prompt).

I wanted to use the @tropetember prompt! C: Here’s the tropetember prompts if you want to take part in that event as well!

Today’s Prompts: Caretaker, Songfic (featuring the song Coffee And Tea by SPICYSOL),

Characters: Carla, Uri

Other Info: My first songfic, omg!  The idea of this fic is that Carla & Uri are a couple, back on Earth.  They were tasked to take care of a little boy for a few days, maybe that of a relative or friend.  At the start of the fic, they’re seeing the boy off once the kid’s parent(s) arrive to pick him up.

_________

“Bye!  Drive home safe!” Uri called as the parents drove off.  Once the car was down the road, he went back into the house with Carla.

“You want to put on our playlist and relax?” Carla asked.  “I’m sure taking care of a kid was quite a different experience for you. . .”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Uri agreed.

And so, they went to the couch, and Carla put their playlist on through the speakers in the room.  As SPICYSOL’s Coffee And Tea played, Carla put an arm around Uri and put her head on his shoulder.  “Something up?” Carla asked him.  “You got that look on your face.”

Uri shrugged.  “I don’t know, taking care of [Kid] really got me thinking,” he said.  “I’ve never thought about whether I’d be a good caretaker of a child.  It was different.  And . . . I liked it a lot more than I expected.”

“Yeah?” Carla asked.

As they were speaking, the song went onto the second verse:

~I found a love that I can finally call my home.

I feel the warmth and love all the way down to my bones.

Guided by the voices from above

Honestly, I think I’m finally free~

“Yeah,” Uri said, running a hand through his hair as he fidgeted.  “I never really took care of a little one before, and I thought I’d be horrible at it and mess things up.  But I loved it.  It got me thinking about the future, and what I want to do.”

“Like . . . being a dad?” Carla asked.

Hesitantly, Uri nodded.  Then he quickly added, “Or maybe helping care for kids in another environment, like you at the daycare, if a kid isn’t something you want.”

“Well, I’m not opposed to it,” Carla told him.  “But I want to do some more therapy work on myself before I consider it more seriously.  I want to work on myself so I can be the best mom I can be, you know?”

“That’s fair,” Uri agreed.  “I should do the same. . .”

The bridge of the song played:

~But sometimes it may get a little hazy

When it gets a bit crazy

I try to remind myself~

“I’m glad caring for [Kid] got you thinking about these things,” Carla said, kissing Uri on the cheek.  “Thanks for talking about it with me.”

“Of course,” Uri said, squeezing her hand.  “I want to be open with you.  I used to close myself off so much, not say anything to anyone.  I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Carla smiled.  “Good.”

The chorus of the song played as the two snuggled together:

~’Cause everything I want

Everything I need is already in my sight.

Just look around; you’re surrounded by the light

Even the mountains that you face

Are all blessing in disguise

We’ll get through it.

‘Cause everything I hoped

All the dreams I see I swear I’ll make it mine.

And I know it won't be easy

Won’t be easy

I'll keep running

Enjoy this life I live~

[jebewonmorelike]

✰⋆⁺ Steal Your Heart ⁺⋆✰

*ੈ Part Three: The Lovers ♡ Kim Jiwoong

♡ Steal Your Heart Masterlist

♡ Read this Introductory Post and the Masterlist for details!

♡ Read Part One and Part Two (Gyuvin) Here!

˚☽˚｡⋆ Steal Your Heart: An Interactive Fanfiction Game

... Collect Points to Determine Your Love Interest and Special Ending!!

⁺⋆✰ wc: 7k (i'm sorry but i love this chapter sm. it took so long and has a lot of different choices so it's not that long if you just pick one choice lol. pls enjoy!)

⁺⋆✰ reader-insert pronouns: none used; n/a -- reader is the 10th member of AU ZB1, but the group is referred to only as an "idol" group. no mentions or descriptions of gender of reader.

⁺⋆✰ chapter warnings: crime (reader was wrongfully convicted of a crime), swearing, depictions of alcohol/bar scene, suggestion of a drinking problem, pretty vague descriptions of making out (only the beginning of chapter), mild violence, angst, the choice *waack* towards the end contains a small suggestive joke... and lots of really funny and insane shenanigans! all ages welcome; pg-13+ themes.

⁺⋆✰ summary: for series summary click here. gyuvin and (y/n) are now fully awakened to their powers in the metaverse, confronting their company's president head-on as the fate of au!zb1 lies in their hands. what will happen when their group member jiwoong, the textbook definition of a washed-up idol, enters the mix? inspired by the jrpg persona 5.

⁺⋆✰ please download the scoresheet for the game here!

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

Welcome back, Player! Get your scoresheet ready-- we're about to embark on the third part of our game. Are you ready to see how your Chapter Choice from Part Two plays out? Were you happy with your Chapter Choice from Part One?

Remember to tally your points! Let's jump right into it then and meet our Lovers arcana for the first time...

The rim of the shot glass touching his lips feels like a warm embrace to Kim Jiwoong. It’s comforting. Familiar. The hard liquor that pours down his throat again and again is just an added bonus.

Jiwoong had always enjoyed his fair share of alcohol, but during this past year he’d consumed far more than what was fair. Jiwoong shrugs it off now like he does each time. Life isn’t fair. The world isn’t fair. Why should he be?

So he takes another shot. And another. And another... Until he loses count. But if Jiwoong could be honest with himself for once, he’d concede he had no intention of keeping count from the start.

When he finds his lips eventually attached to another pair, he’s not surprised. Just disappointed. A deep, self-loathing ache that he silences by shoving his tongue further down the indiscernible stranger’s throat. And then he’s not so disappointed anymore.

Jiwoong suddenly notices a distinct absence of noise, pulling back to realize he’s transported outside. His right hand caresses the exterior brick of the bar, his other hand is wraps around the belly-chain adorned waist of a blonde person. He can’t really make out any features of their face, but he doesn’t really care to.

He’s pulled in again, lips meeting the impossibly glossy ones he’s been exploring for who knows how long. Cars zip by the alleyway, but Jiwoong is tucked safely out of view thanks to the darkness of the earliest hours of the morning. And also a giant dumpster.

Fitting, Jiwoong thinks.

“I can’t believe you,” a voice echoes down the alleyway from the street, catching Jiwoong’s attention. 

Let's find out the effects of your Chapter Choice for Part Two, Player! To refresh your memory, Choice 1 was to Get Food while Choice 2 was to Go To Karaoke.

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “GET FOOD”:

“You ate ALL of my bao buns,” Gyuvin complains with a pout. “I didn’t even get to have one!”

You shrug. “You snooze, you lose.”

“You stuffed all three in your mouth as soon as the plate hit the table,” your best friend replies, kicking the cement of the sidewalk as you stroll down the dimly lit street.

“Sorry,” you mumble in apology. “I was just really hungry. I hadn’t eaten since before probation work this morning.”

Gyuvin’s eyes widen at this before his brow furrows sadly. “You really know how to make me feel bad, don’t you?”

“I wasn’t trying to—.”

“Should I pack you a lunch from now on? Hm?” He interrupts, hands flying about dramatically. “That’s too long for you to go without eating, especially under the hot sun.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Am I speaking to the right Binnie? Did you switch brains Freaky Friday style or something?”

“I’ll have you know I worry about you just as much as Hanbinnie hyung does,” Gyuvin retorts, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I just suppress the urge to nag you better. I know you won’t listen anyway.”

“see, hat’s why you’re my best friend,” you conclude with a smile. “You let me f*ck up even when it kills you to watch.”

“Do you do the same for me?” He asks, looking up at the night sky.

“Every time I let you wear down another reporter,” you answer honestly, “it’s another dagger to the heart. You know how much I wish they cared. But I care about you more.”

“Did we become pine trees overnight? The sap’s been just pouring out of us lately,” Gyuvin jokes, rolling his eyes. “I was actually thinking yesterday that maybe you were right about that. Maybe I should just give it up like everyone else already has.”

“But today?” You prompt knowingly.

“Today I’ve realized that even if I’m the only one trapped in your corner forever” he replies with a laugh, “I don’t want out. And I don’t think I ever will.”

“You know, you have really resembled a pine tree lately now that I think of it,” you observe with a smile. “You’re already so tall, I guess the needles and the branches didn’t look that out of place.”

“Can you believe they let two trees into a restaurant?” 

“As long as they’re buying something,” you say with a shrug.

Gyuvin hums, blinking at you. “But you’ll sing with me soon, right? I really miss it.”

After a moment, you nod. “Yeah. I miss it, too. I guess I’m just... not quite there yet.”

“That’s okay,” Gyuvin says, nudging you with his elbow as you continue down the street. “Whenever you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

You probably have more to explain to Gyuvin-- the feelings you’ve felt over the past year are more complicated than could possibly be understood by someone who hasn't experienced them for themselves. But Gyuvin doesn’t ask for an explanation. 

He just let’s you f*ck up... even when it kills him to watch.

“When I do sing again,” you say, moonlight illuminating your eyes. “I really want it to be with you.”

“I'd like that.”

Your bond has grown stronger with Gyuvin. +1 Gyuvin Point. Please add +1 Gyuvin Point to your score sheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “GO TO KARAOKE”:

“You haven’t been able to use your voice for an entire year and the first song you choose to sing is Ring Ding Dong?” Gyuvin asks, his voice dripping with judgment.

“Hey, cool it with the disrespect on a literal classic,” you reply with a huff. “Besides, you said you needed a distraction. I thought singing something a little silly would help!”

“Ugh,” Gyuvin sighs dramatically. “I guess it did, yeah. You knew all the words and everything. You didn’t even need to look at the screen!”

You shrug, smirking up at him. “What can I say? I’ve still got it.”

“I know you meant that as a joke, but it’s true,” he replies, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I can’t tell you how happy it made me to sing with you again. I want to keep singing with you for as long as possible.”

“You’ve been such a sap the past twenty-four hours,” you tease, knocking into him gently with your hip. “Seriously, I missed singing with you, too. To be honest, I was really scared to sing again. When I lost my voice, I’d make deals at night with the universe: everything I have in exchange for the ability to sing again. Still, I worried that if I ever was able to sing again, would it feel the way it used to? Would it hurt even more to have my voice back and still be unwelcome in my own group? But... Singing with you tonight was easy. You’ve made everything easier for me this year. I guess this is my sh*tty, impromptu attempt at thanking you.”

Gyuvin blinks back at you, eyes wide and doe-like. “F*ck. And you think I’m the one being too sentimental?” 

“Okay, I take it back,” you reply quickly, rolling your eyes.

“NO TAKE BACKS!” Gyuvin shouts at the exact same time, a cheesy grin on his face fading to a soft smile. “You don’t need to thank me. You just need to keep being my best friend.”

You nod. “I think I can arrange that.”

“Also,” he starts to add, hesitating for a moment before ultimately deciding to continue for better or for worse. “I bet there’s a bunch of people who would love to hear you sing again.”

You press your lips together awkwardly. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

“Why not? You really don’t think you still have fans?” Gyuvin asks with a frown.

You remember the small group of four or five teenagers standing outside of Total Control with protest signs yesterday. “Honestly, I wouldn’t wish being my fan on anyone.”

“I think they’d be really hurt to hear you say that,” Gyuvin replies, shaking his head like he always does when he thinks you’re being impossible. “It hurts me to hear you say it. I am your biggest fan, after all.”

You smile at the charming sincerity of your goofball best friend. “It must be hard to be around your favorite idol all the time.”

“You have no idea,” Gyuvin agrees with a laugh. He looks up at the sky, avoiding your gaze-- his cheeks noticeably pink in the lamplight. “But I’m happy to suffer for as long as you let me.”

Your bond with Gyuvin has grown stronger. +2 Gyuvin Points. Please add +2 Gyuvin Points to your score sheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

“Quick, take a picture of me!” Gyuvin suddenly exclaims, running towards the empty crosswalk and striking the least casual, casual pose you’ve ever seen. “I need some new pictures for the grid.”

You snort in disbelief as Gyuvin poses in the warm lights outside a bar. “Can’t believe you just said that.”

“Zeroses are getting bored of my selfies, I think,” he says with a shrug. You humor him, taking your phone out of your pocket and snapping a couple pictures before he adjusts his pose slightly and signals at you to continue. “I saw a lot of comments asking for full-body pictures on my last post.”

“Can’t say I blame them,” you reply with a smirk, snapping some more photos of your annoying, handsome, and also annoyingly-handsome friend. 

✧ New Wallpaper Unlocked: Gyuvin Hit the Griddy ✧

Jiwoong, through his boozy, delusional fog, isn’t really processing anything he’s hearing. Instead, he takes these disembodied voices chattering about taking pictures in his general proximity outside a bar at night to mean the thing they usually mean: the paparazzi has tracked him down yet again.

“F*ck,” he mumbles, prying himself off of the stranger he’s still entangled with. “How do they always find me? It’s like the company personally hires them to ruin my reputation...”

“What?” A feminine voice asks confusedly beside him. “What are you talking about?”

“You should run,” he answers, running a hand through his long black hair. He’s been growing it out for about six months-- ever since the day the company broke it to him that he was too old to re-debut after ZeroBaseOne’s contract expired. That maybe somewhere down the line, there’d be hope for Yujin and Gunwook, but never for him. He’d known that all along. But it didn’t make hearing the truth any easier. “You don’t wanna appear in a headline next to me.”

“A headline?” The feminine voice asks again as Jiwoong inches closer to the end of the alley. “What do you mean? Are you, like, famous or something?”

“For the sake of my own ego, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” Jiwoong replies with a sigh. He peers around the corner, expecting to find several men dressed in dark clothing-- camera flashes blinding him as he attempts to make a break for it.

But that’s not what he finds. 

Instead, there’s just two figures-- slightly hazy through Jiwoong’s eyes as they stroll slowly down the illuminated sidewalk. He squints, attempting to steady his vision until the figures finally come into focus... 

Much to Jiwoong’s surprise, it’s you and Gyuvin.

Gyuvin jogs back over to you, grabbing your phone from your hand and looking through the pictures. “Zeroses know exactly what they want. And they’re not afraid to let us know either.”

“No, they are not,” you agree with a laugh, recalling the time Zeroses once petitioned on Twitter for you all to ‘Show More Arm’ in the Crush music video. The acronym ‘SMA’ trended for a week straight. The company was not amused and ended up putting you all in militaristic long sleeve shirts, pants, and vests in retaliation.

“Oh my god,” a feminine voice suddenly exclaims behind you. “That’s (Y/N) from ZeroBaseOne!"

You and Gyuvin freeze in place, turning around slowly to assess the situation. It’s a pretty blonde girl, lipgloss smeared all over her mouth as a handsome man stares wide-eyed at you beside her. 

“Oh, hyung?” Gyuvin calls as you both realize you’re being graced with the rare presence of your group member Kim Jiwoong in the flesh. You haven’t seen him in awhile. He sleeps all day and spends all night at any club that’ll still let him in. 

He looks much worse than you remember.

“Wait, you know ZeroBaseOne? Oh my god! You--... you thought paparazzi were going to take pictures of you... And you know ZeroBaseOne... That means...” You watch in fascination as the stranger puts two and two together.

Jiwoong turns to quiet his prior makeout partner, the lines of her face still going in and out of focus. He can tell, however, that her jaw is hung open in elated shock... Or maybe... 

“EW! I was making out with some washed-up, has-been idol!?” She shouts in absolute horror, throwing her arms down in despair. “Last week I made out with some weird guy that busks in front of his tteokbokki stand and now THIS? I need to quit drinking.”

“Did she just say she made out with Kim Taerae!?” Gyuvin exclaims; Jiwoong jumping as he realizes you’re both now standing right in front of him. The taller boy’s brow is furrowed in confusion. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve actually made out with two washed-up, has-been idols. If you’re ever interested in tripling your winnings...”

You punch Gyuvin in the arm, to which he mumbles, “Sorry. Blah, blah: game; blah, blah: player.”

Looking at Jiwoong up close, your awkward smile wavers. He’s clearly sh*t-faced, which comes as no surprise to you and it wouldn’t to anyone else who knows him either. He looks distressed and the dark circles under his eyes are unmistakable. Jiwoong leaves you no choice but to worry about him.

“Y-you...” Jiwoong suddenly begins to stammer, left hand kneading his opposite forearm anxiously as his gaze weighs you down. “You were talking to each other. You were... talking.”

Your head snaps to look at Gyuvin, meeting his panicked eyes instantly. It takes only a moment for you to wordlessly reach the same page. And that page reads: Lie like hell.

“What? What do you mean, hyung?” Gyuvin asks as you type something into your phone. “I was talking and you were using your screenreader. Right, (Y/N)?”

You nod emphatically, your screenreader vocalizing, “Are you okay, Woongie? You look really tired! I think maybe you’ve had too much to drink. How about we take you home and get you to bed?”

The silence that follows is deafening before Jiwoong finally whispers, “Really, (Y/N)?”

The expression on his face is painfully ambiguous. You can’t tell if he’s about to laugh, flip you off, cry, or throw up.

“Gaslighting me? I’d expect that from Binnie, but not from you,” he spits, looking down at the ground. When he looks back up, his eyes are darker than before. “You know, I’ve treated you really well this past year considering you f*cked up my whole f*cking life. Taking advantage of my problem isn’t exactly a nice way to repay me.”

You blink back at him, surprised, but not by his harshness. “Your... problem?”

“Guys,” Gyuvin attempts in vain to interrupt.

“Yeah, my...” Jiwoong starts to echo, but he stops when he realizes what he’s accidentally admitted. 

“Guys, there’s--...” Gyuvin tries again to no avail. He seemingly gives up with an agitated sigh.

“I’ve never heard you call it that before,” you reply calmly. 

Jiwoong gulps, clearly overwhelmed as he tries to change the subject. “Y-y--... You are talking! You--... you were lying to me and... you...”

“I know. I’m sorry for lying, Jiwoongie,” you apologize sincerely as the rustle of Gyuvin gnawing his nails enters the soundscape. “And I’m sorry for saying what I said. Can we talk about it more at home, do you think? Maybe where there aren’t sensitive ears listening.”

Only now does Jiwoong remember the presence of the stranger who’d he’d been swapping saliva with just minutes before. “Oh, f*ck.”

“Oh f*ck is right,” Gyuvin says, tips of his fingers still in his mouth. “Nobody ever listens to me.”

“Uh, okay, I can fix this!” Jiwoong exclaims, a reassurance that is probably more for himself than for you. He turns to the girl beside him, who is very clearly wishing she never left her house tonight. “W-what do you want? In exchange for... not talking about any of this ever?”

“My dignity back,” she answers with a sigh. 

Jiwoong grimaces. “Oh, um... I guess I was talking about something more... tangible than that.”

“Yeah, I figured,” she replies with a nod. “Well then, I guess a million won will suffice.”

Gyuvin bursts into laughter. “A million won!? You said it yourself: we’re washed-up, has-been idols. I saw Jiwoong hyung buy that shirt from the Target clearance rack last month.”

Jiwoong pulls out his phone with a dejected sigh. “What’s your Naver Pay?”

“WannaOne5Everxoxo,” she answers happily.

Gyuvin nods satisfactorily. “Gotta respect such good taste at least. You know, our group was formed through a survival show too! Maybe you’d like our--.”

“Not interested,” she declines firmly before a suggestion has even been made. “Yay, it went through! Oh... It’s only 500,000 won.”

Jiwoong laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, it’s--... It’s everything I have.”

You can tell he means it. Shaking your head in absolute disbelief at what you’re about to do, you unlock your phone and open Naver Pay. 

“Oh!” The girl gasps as her phone pings. She looks at the notification, finding the rest of the 1,000,000 won transferred to her account. She nods politely at you. “Thanks.”

Jiwoong meets your gaze sheepishly, lips pressed together in awkward shame. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Have a good night, I guess,” the girl calls over her shoulder as she walks back through the door to the bar. “Losers.”

Her absence makes way for a painfully uncomfortable silence, which Gyuvin breaks by suggesting you find your way back to your car. 

“Good idea,” you agree, starting to walk in the direction you’d come from. When you realize only one pair of footsteps is following you, you turn around to figure out what the issue is. Because nothing can ever be easy, you find Jiwoong leaning against a telephone pole-- dead asleep while still standing upright.

“You’ve got to be f*cking kidding me,” you huff, marching back over to Jiwoong and smacking his arm repeatedly. “Wake up!”

“Mm,” Jiwoong groans, his head falling onto your shoulder. 

“We could just... leave him here,” Gyuvin suggests softly and you can’t deny how appealing that plan sounds. But another headline about Jiwoong’s nightly escapades would only create more problems for all of you in the long run.

Throwing one of Jiwoong’s arms around your shoulders, you pull some of his weight onto your frame. Gyuvin rushes to the other side of your sleeping group member and, together, you trudge your way down the street. Eventually, you find yourselves in front of the Total Control building— which means your car is at least somewhat nearby.

“How much further?” Gyuvin asks, breathing heavily as you pull out your phone.

You use your right thumb to search for Naver Maps, knowing you’d placed a pin on the map where you’d parked as you always did. You laboredly type N, then A, then V, the app appearing in the suggested bar below. You stretch your thumb to reach the icon, pressing down on the screen when suddenly...

"BACK SO SOON?"

Your finger slips.

“Oh for f*ck’s sake,” you grumble as the ground begins to shake around you.

"YOU ARE NOW EXITING THE REAL WORLD. ENJOY YOUR TIME IN THE METAVERSE AND STAY SAFE."

A red haze overtakes the atmosphere as the Metaverse settles into place, the glow of the Total Control Music castle nearly blinding in the darkness. You cough lightly, looking at the ground in embarrassment. 

“Huh. I didn't notice all that butter on your fingers,” Gyuvin taunts as Jiwoong starts to stir between you.

“Not another word,” you threaten, trying desperately to get a better grip on your phone. “Can you hold him for a second so I can get us out of here?”

Just as Gyuvin wraps his right arm tighter around Jiwoong, the previously unconscious man abruptly comes to. He looks around, noticing the different surroundings of the Metaverse. 

“Weird dream,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve really gotta stop mixing liquors.” 

“Yes! Yes, yes, exactly,” you reply, tapping on the MetaNav app when you realize that it hasn’t responded to your vocal command to leave like it usually does. “This is all a dream, Jiwoongie.”

“And you should really stop drinking altogether at this point,” Gyuvin adds with a huff.

“Now let’s get out of here,” you say again, waiting for the voice of the MetaNav app to respond. You’re met with silence. “Oh, this is not good.”

“It’s—… It’s not letting us leave?” Gyuvin asks, eyes wide with panic. 

“What’s not letting us leave?” Jiwoong asks, growing more and more alert. “Where are we? And why is there a gigantic castle where the company building's supposed to be?"

“Doesn’t matter,” you respond sternly, both you and Gyuvin taking turns frantically tapping the MetaNav app in vain. “You’re dreaming, remember?”

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Jiwoong asks again, the slightest hint of fear now present in his voice. “What are those?”

“I dunno, it’s your subconscious,” you respond hurriedly— far too distracted with your current dilemma to properly pay attention to him.

“Kind of looks like big, moving hunks of metal,” Jiwoong continues. “And there’s, like, black fog coming out of them?”

“Sounds really scary, hyung,” Gyuvin takes a turn replying to him. “I would totally unpack some things in therapy as soon as possible if I were you.”

“And there’s something behind them,” Jiwoong observes, confusion in his voice. “Wait… Is that President Kim?”

Your eyes meet Gyuvin’s and then dart towards the castle doors, but your attention comes too late. President Kim is grinning evilly at Jiwoong, seemingly delighted by his presence as he taps his fingers together.

“COME FORWARD AND GREET YOUR KING,” a shadow guard bellows. You and Gyuvin stand your ground, but Jiwoong starts to climb the steps.

“Jiwoong-ah, don’t,” you hiss at him, but he doesn’t listen. Why would he? You’d just told him this was all a dream.

“President Kim?” Jiwoong asks, head tilting to the side. “What’s going on? Why’re you dressed like... that? This is literally the weirdest dream I’ve ever had.”

The “king” nods, smiling eerily. “I assure you, Jiwoong-sshi… This is no dream.”

Jiwoong’s breath hitches in his throat. He’s silent as President Kim takes a few steps forward. 

“This is really bad,” Gyuvin whispers, looking to you for your next move. “I could try that ice thing again? Maybe we could try to do some more damage this time.”

You start to nod, but a familiar voice rings through your head. Do I really have to remind you of this again? Just stand still, my friend. And make sure your pet Gyuvin doesn’t misbehave, Arsène commands.

“Wait,” you warn, grabbing Gyuvin’s raised hand and forcing it back to his side. “I think we should just see what happens first.”

“What!?” Gyuvin replies with furrowed brow. “He’s gonna get himself-- and then us-- killed.”

“Just watch.”

“Kim Jiwoong-sshi, can you even see straight right now? Aigoo, you create such problems for me,” President Kim continues as Jiwoong stands still in shock. “No matter how many times I call the paparazzi on you, you never learn your lesson! Dispatch has photographed you in so many compromising situations that they won’t even respond to my requests anymore. You’re so predictably sleazy that even the paparazzi are bored of you!”

Jiwoong’s hands shake lightly at his sides. “I think I want to wake up now.”

“Can’t even tell when he’s awake or asleep! How did this happen to you, Jiwoong-sshi? Did it cut that deeply to hear the truth? To hear what everyone, including yourself, already knew? That you’re no longer valuable in this industry? That your prime has come and gone and anything salvageable went to sh*t with your group member’s scandal?” President Kim ruthlessly berates. Gyuvin squirms next to you and you keep squeezing his hand to hold him back. “You wanted some control back, didn’t you? You decided to let no one’s scandal ruin you but your own.”

You can only see the side of Jiwoong’s face, but the shade of sickly white he has turned is hard to ignore. His skin is clammy and his lips are parted in horror. He’s starting to claw at his arms, like his skin is crawling.

Like it’s happening to him.

“You used to be sought after in a club. But now they all know better-- don’t they, Jiwoong-sshi? You’re desperate now. If I knew you’d play the part so well, I would’ve framed you instead of (Y/N)-sshi that night,” President Kim continues with a malicious smile.

“What?” Jiwoong exhales, growing more and more unsteady. “You--... Framed!?”

“And now, Jiwoong-sshi, you’re nothing more than a wh*re on the street,” President Kim twists the knife until it's poking at his heart. “Nothing more than a pathetic, penniless... drunk.”

“I AM NOT!” Jiwoong screams, falling to his knees in agony. Gyuvin gasps next to you as his hyung writhes in pain on the steps of the palace. “F*CK, make it stop-- MAKE IT STOP!”

Hey there, handsome. I'm Carmen; seductress of legend. I've never had a vessel as gorgeous as you! I could just eat you right up. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?

“No, no, no, I don’t want to die,” Jiwoong rambles deliriously as a disembodied, feminine voice echoes through his head.

“It's--... It's happening to him, isn't it?” Gyuvin asks, face scrunched in confusion. "Could it happen to all of us?"

You’re not gonna die, my love. Not if I have anything to say about it! It’s you and me forever from now on, so let’s lure some villains right into our irresistible trap...

A mask forms around Jiwoong’s face, a feline shape melding to his delicate skin. You throw a hand over Gyuvin’s eyes as Jiwoong rips it off, an anguished scream ricocheting off the palace doors. As a new mask forms and hovers in front of Jiwoong’s healed face, you grab Gyuvin and pull him up the steps.

New Confidant Unlocked: Lovers *ੈ Kim Jiwoong

Jiwoong pants heavily from the torment he’s just fought through. You wait patiently for him to regain his focus until he finally lifts his head, a deadly smirk on his lips.

I guess you're right about me. I hope you can relish it while you’re rotting in hell. ‧ ₊ ✫ ˚・

Jiwoong’s hands open at his sides, balls of hot, orange fire forming in his palms. He throws them wildly at President Kim, one burning a giant hole in his red, velvet robe.

New Skill Unlocked: Homme Fatale ⋆☀︎｡

President Kim stomps his foot in anger, a lightning bolt aiming right for Jiwoong’s head. 

You run up behind him, blowing a gust of wind from your hands towards President Kim and tackling Jiwoong to the ground. You both narrowly avoid the lightning bolt as your wind power knocks President Kim backwards. Jiwoong’s wide eyes meet yours through his mask-- yours and Gyuvin’s now having formed across your eyes as well. “The fire thing is really f*cking cool, Woongie.”

“Thanks,” he says with a soft smile as Gyuvin shoots a wave of icicles towards the shadow guards. “So is the wind thing.”

“I know,” you reply as you sit up, offering Jiwoong your hand. Clambering to your feet, the three of you continue to attack the shadow guards with your elemental powers as President Kim stomps his foot for another lightning bolt. It lands between you and Gyuvin, but he pulls you out of its reach in the nick of time. 

As President Kim begins to retreat through the doors of the castle, your team starts to back down the steps as well. You notice that President Kim has left behind a shoe and your eyes widen when a familiar-looking man rushes out of the castle quickly to retrieve it. 

“Manager Sang?” Jiwoong asks as you realize why this man looks so familiar to you.

The man looks up, shoe in hand-- his eyes glow red, but his expression is ambiguous. This is, in fact, your manager; the only one who stuck around after the fallout. What’s he doing here?

Manager Sang retreats back into the castle without hesitation, leaving you alone with no one but the shadow guards. They look angry, per usual.

“Do you think the app will let us leave--.” Gyuvin doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before the voice of the MetaNav app booms:

"THANKS FOR BEARING WITH US WHILE WE EXPERIENCED SOME TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES. NAVIGATING YOU BACK TO THE REAL WORLD NOW. CIAO."

“Ciao?” Gyuvin repeats with a huff as the red haze of the Metaverse fades away around you. “Who does she think she is? Abandons us in the Metaverse and all she has to say for her robot-self is ‘ciao’?”

You glance at Jiwoong, whose complexion has paled once again. “Jiwoong-ah? How are you holding up?”

“I--... I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jiwoong replies, his face turning green before he doubles over and throws up all over the sidewalk. You and Gyuvin let out pained sighs as Jiwoong wipes his arm across his mouth and stands back up. He’s woozy and you grab his arm to keep him upright. “Can we please go home now?”

“C’mon, hyung,” Gyuvin replies, grabbing his other arm-- both of you helping him a bit further down the street as you finally spot your license plate. You grin at Gyuvin sheepishly. “Seriously? We were, like, fifty feet away from your car this whole time?”

“Sssssh, ssh, ssh, ssh, ssh,” you coo, opening the door to the back seat and helping Jiwoong inside. He curls uo on the leather interior, closing his eyes and snoring lightly within seconds. “You know, he’s actually quite cute like this.”

“Like what? Unconscious?” Gyuvin asks with a snort, throwing open the passenger door and climbing inside. You run around to the driver’s side and start the car. “I guess he is pretty cute when he’s not single-handedly destroying his own life and reputation.”

“And when he’s not blaming me for it either,” you add, pulling out from the curb and driving down the street in the direction of your dorm building. “What are we gonna do about him?”

“I have no idea,” Gyuvin answers, sinking into his seat. “We don’t even understand what we’re dealing with. And now we’ve gotta add a whole new person that doesn’t even really like us to the mix?”

You’re driving five miles under the speed limit like you always do after getting your license back, which gives you extra time to realize the street you’re on. To your right is Taerae’s tteokbokki stand, which he’s sitting in front of on the sidewalk while strumming his guitar. On the left, there’s just one building with its lights on: Hanbin’s dance studio.

“Can we make a quick stop? I’m really craving...”

Mini-Decision: Are you craving a snack or a waack?

If you chose "a snack", read below:

“You understand me on a cosmic level,” Gyuvin says with a smile as you pull up to the curb beside Taerae’s tteokbokki stand. Gyuvin glances towards the back of your car where Jiwoong is currently out cold-- his head lolling off of the seat. “He’ll be fine here, right?”

“Eh, he’s slept in worse places,” you answer, opening the car door as Gyuvin follows suit. The sound of Taerae’s hypnotic voice and an accompanying guitar melody fill the air as you make your way towards him. You both stand in front of Taerae, his eyes closed as he finishes the song. After a brief round of applause, you pull a 1,000 won bill from your pocket and throw it in the cup next to him.

“That was my coffee,” he says with a frown, fishing the soaking wet bill out of his drink. You smile at him apologetically, looking down at your feet in embarrassment.

“You should be grateful, hyung,” Gyuvin defends, sticking his hands in his pockets. “It’s not like anyone else is giving you money. You know, I did just hear that you had some fun last week though...”

“What do you guys want?” Taerae asks, rolling his eyes. “Are you here to get back at me for helping Ricky yesterday, or?”

You tilt your head to each side as if you’re considering it before finally pointing to Taerae’s tteokbokki stand. You pat your stomach and bat your eyelashes cutely until he gets the hint.

“Ugh, you’re really gonna make me work?” Taerae asks, already standing up and walking towards his stand. “What can I get for you?”

“Spicy, spicy,” Gyuvin answers quickly, shifting on his feet excitedly. Taerae packs him a hefty portion of the spiciest tteokbokki and then packs another hefty portion of cheesy rosè rice cakes all the way on the end. You grin up at him.

“I know you,” Taerae says, the corner of his mouth turning up in a reluctant smile. “I know what you like.”

“What do we owe you, hyung?” Gyuvin asks, starting to take out his wallet as Taerae hands the plastic bag of food to you. 

The older boy looks at the 1,000 won bill on the counter next to him, then at you. “It’s on me,” he sighs, shaking his head. “And I'm sorry about the other day, (Y/N). Enjoy.”

Your bond with Taerae has strengthened. +1 Taerae Point. Please add +1 Taerae Point to your score sheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you chose "a waack", read below:

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Gyuvin asks, suddenly incredibly flustered. “A waack? Is that some sort of euphemism, or--.”

“You’re disgusting,” you reply, pulling up to the curb on the left side of the street next to Hanbin’s dance studio. You turn off the car, throw open your door and step outside-- making your way to the studio entrance. Gyuvin follows you, slamming the passenger door behind him.

“I was just kidding, by the way,” Gyuvin asks as your hand wraps around the door handle. “I knew you meant you wanted to watch Hanbin... waack.”

“Mmhm,” you dismiss wordlessly, pulling open the door and stepping inside. You were glad that Hanbin had founded a fairly successful dance studio in the months after ZB1's downfall. You were not as glad that Hanbin stayed there day and night, like he was hiding from you. From all of you. He made you dinner several times during the week, but you felt like it was out of guilt. Guilt that he'd quickly rebuilt at least some semblance of a career when the majority of you had yet to do so.

You’re greeted by the sound of c*nty, slayful music-- the image of Hanbin freestyling reflecting back at you off the giant wall mirror. He’s so into the beat that he doesn’t notice you until the song stops.

“Oh, hey kids!” Hanbin greets, lowering the volume of the studio speakers as he runs over to you. “What brings you here so late, my loves? Is everything okay?”

Typical for Hanbin's first instinct to be to worry about you. And to his credit, you and Gyuvin often required a lot of worrying. 

“Uh, we were on our way home and (Y/N) wanted to visit you actually,” Gyuvin explains, placing his giant hand on top of your head playfully.

“Is that so?” Hanbin asks, grinning at you. “Were you, maybe, looking to do a little dancing...?”

You hadn’t danced in a really long time. There was no way you could keep up with Hanbin, or Gyuvin for that matter. Maybe it’s because it’s almost 2 A.M. and you’ve fought shadow guards and an evil version of your company’s CEO twice in eight hours, but neither of those things matter to you at this moment.

You want to dance. And you want to dance right now.

You nod at Hanbin, a soft smile lighting up your face. Gyuvin tilts your head up to look at him with the hand that’s still wrapped around it.

“Really?” He asks, eyes wide in shock. “You wanna dance?”

You nod again, turning back towards Hanbin. You can tell he’s trying really, really hard not to get emotional-- absolutely beaming from ear to ear with pride. 

“Then let’s dance, baby.”

Your bond with Hanbin has grown stronger. +1 Hanbin Point. Please add +1 Hanbin point to your score sheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

Your alarm stirs you awake gently. You stretch your arms over your head— glad that you had the day off from probation work after the absolute chaos of the day prior. Your eyes flutter open peacefully, when:

“AAAAAAAGH!” You scream at the sight of Hao’s face floating inches above yours. It’s clear he had been planning to scare you, but, for some reason, he screams in shock, too.

Hao pulls back, staring at you with wide eyes. “You just… You just f*cking screamed!”

Godd*mnit. Could anything just be easy for once?

Hao was the last person you needed finding out about this new secret. Everything said in the dorms entered Hao’s ears and was reported back to the company immediately. Not to mention he’d become your personal demon this past year; tormenting you, ridiculing you, punishing you for ruining his career.

You weren’t really sure why he was so upset, considering he was the one that had been positioned for a promising solo debut in the coming months. The one that President Kim had thrown all of his money and resources behind when the group’s future went haywire-- hanging the rest of you out to dry.

You frown as you remember something that President Kim said in the castle the other day: “Now I have to pretend to put all my efforts into that Hao kid…” 

‘Pretend’. Interesting choice of words.

“Um, hello?” Hao asks, flicking you on the forehead hard with his finger. “You can’t just play dumb like that. I heard you!”

“Then why did you ask if you already knew the f*cking answer?” You counter as your rub your forehead, your anger getting the best of you. 

“Oh my god,” Hao says quietly, blinking at you with parted lips. He stares at you like this for so long that you almost think he’s about to say something nice. He instead concludes, “You’ve been faking it this whole time.”

“WHAT!?” You shout indignantly. No, no, no. There's no way Hao was going to twist this into another opportunity to dig your grave that much deeper. “That’s not true, Hao. I—… I got it back on Monday! I don’t know how it happened, but I—.”

“When President Kim hears about this,” Hao says with a malicious grin, “you’re getting kicked out of here for good.”

Hao walks toward your bedroom door feverishly, excited for another chance to make you as miserable as he is. If he only knew you already were— that hurting your friends so deeply was a fate worse than death to you. That you’d do anything to change what happened.

But you can’t. And you can’t let Hao spill the beans on this either. 

So, you take a deep breath, muster all of your courage and call:

Mini-Decision: Should you yell "HaoHao!" or "B*tch!"?

If you chose "HaoHao!", read below:

“HaoHao!” 

You bite your lip softly; cheeks heating at the cringiness of using your old nickname for him. It’s disgustingly affectionate— something you and Hao haven’t felt towards each other in over a year. 

Still, desperate times call for even more desperate measures.

Hao freezes in his tracks, turning back to face you in slow motion. His face is flushed from embarrassment. At least you got his attention.

“Don’t—… Don’t call me that,” he says annoyedly, hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck.

“Please,” you basically beg. You know it’s what he wants to hear. “Please, don’t tell anyone about this.”

Hao swallows uncomfortably; blinking rapidly as he stares at anything but you. “I—… Why shouldn’t I?”

“I’ll do anything, Hao. Anything you want, no questions asked,” you surrender.

Your bond with Hao has grown stronger. +1 Hao Point. Please add +1 Hao Point to your scoresheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you chose "B*tch!", read below:

“B*TCH!” 

You probably could’ve chosen your words better, but at the very least it gets Hao’s attention. He freezes in the doorway; turning around slowly before meeting your gaze— eyes fierce and jaw set.

“I beg your motherf*cking pardon?”

You swallow hard. “I meant, I’ll be your b*tch.”

“I—… I don’t think that made me any less confused,” Hao replies after a moment; the tips of his ears turning red.

“I’ll do whatever you want; whenever you want, Hao. Cleaning, cooking, running errands— whatever you want me to do. Just so long as you don’t tell anyone about my voice.”

“And you think that’s something I want?” Hao asks rhetorically, one eyebrow raised.

“I do, actually,” you challenge; matching his energy. “I think, rather than outright telling on me, you’d find it more fulfilling in that freezing cold heart of yours to be able to hold this over my head for the rest of my life… Am I wrong?”

Your bond has grown stronger with Hao. +0 Hao Points.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

“You—… I—… But—… Ugh, fine,” Hao agrees after a bunch of protestful stuttering; arms folding across his chest in annoyance. “I’ll make sure to give you a very long list of things I want you to do. Every day. For the rest of forever. And don’t think I won’t be trying to find a loophole out of this. If a bus comes, consider yourself already thrown under it.”

“Thanks, Hao,” you say with a nod. “I get the gist.”

He huffs in reply, turning on his heel and walking out of your bedroom. You sigh with cautious relief. You’re safe for now, but you know all too well that this temporary allyship with Hao is unreliable at best. 

A message lights up your phone on your bedside table:

You’re holding a basket full of Hao’s freshly washed laundry in one arm and balancing an empty bowl of sundaeguk in the other when a practically rabid Jiwoong rushes through the front door and falls to his knees in front of you.

“I’ll do it,” Jiwoong begs, grabbing your right leg and clinging on in desperation. “Whatever it is that I have to do to join the Phantom Thieves... I’ll do it.”

“What in god’s green earth are the Phantom Thieves?” You ask, trying to kick him off you.

You and Gyuvin stare at him for a moment before Gyuvin awkwardly clears his throat. “(Y/N), can I see you over there for a second?”

Your eyes follow the direction that Gyuvin’s finger is pointing, glancing at the corner of the hallway less than four feet away. Shrugging, you walk over with Gyuvin, who immediately pulls you into an unnecessary, two-person huddle. 

“What are the Phantom Thieves?” You repeat annoyedly.

“Jiwoong came to the company today, loudly begging for answers so I had to calm him down a bit,” Gyuvin explains. “He was asking what happened and where we were and if we’re superheroes and all these questions I don’t really have the answers to. Then, I saw a flier on the bulletin board for the new semi-professional production of Phantom of the Opera that President Kim is in and a poster for President Kim’s first hit single ‘Sexy, Magic, Love Thief’ on the wall in front of me.”

“I’ll never get over that title, by the way,” you muse.

“It’s so 2000s,” Gyuvin agrees, his voice growing louder. “So, to get Jiwoong to shut up, I said we were the... Phantom Thieves. And that we’re on a very secret mission to expose Total Control Music and take back our lives.”

“And now,” you draw a conclusion, “he wants in. Well, has he considered that he’s not exactly a trustworthy friend to us? What gives him the right to suddenly care about the company’s wrongdoings? Or you? Or me?”

“Okay, listen,” your tall, hyperactive friend says, no longer even attempting to whisper. “I don’t really want this old, washed-up loser slowing us down, but he does have that awesome fireball-shooting power.”

“I completely agree,” you say, patting him on the shoulder. “But maybe you could lower your voice just a b--.”

“I KNEW YOU WOULD AGREE,” Gyuvin basically shouts. “Jiwoong hyung might not be cool or respectable or funny or useful, but... Since we've got the upper hand, I say we make a deal with him and take him for everything he’s worth!”

“Hey, just so you guys know, I can hear everything you’re saying,” Jiwoong interjects, which earns him a harsh ‘SSSH!’ from both of you. He nods and reattaches his gaze to the floor.

“Fine,” you agree with a sigh. "Leave this to me. And don’t say anything stupid.”

Gyuvin nods at you, a smirk splayed on his lips. “You can count on your right-hand man, Team Leader. Oh, I also told him that you’re the Team Leader!”

With a satisfied smile, you hop back over to Jiwoong, who meets your gaze as you land in front of him again. 

“Okay, if you guys are gonna ask for money, you know I don’t have any...” Jiwoong attempts to reason. “I already owe you a ton of money anyway that we all know I’m never actually going to be able to repay you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you respond with a sigh. Jiwoong looks up at you, endlessly grateful and soul-crushingly ashamed. “Besides, we don’t want money.”

“We don’t?” Gyuvin asks stupidly. You kick his shin. “OW! What the f--... Um... I mean, ow, what the f*ck, hyung!? I'm so hurt! I can’t believe you think we’d want to take your money. Thought we were friends...”

“Mmhm,” Jiwoong mumbles, devoid of amusement.

You clap your hands loudly to regather their attention. “After our team meeting, we have decided that we will reluctantly let you in after you pay a hefty price. And that hefty price for entry into the Phantom Leaves--.”

“Thieves,” Gyuvin corrects quietly, bracing for impact.

“WHATEVER!” You concede, folding your arms across your chest exasperatedly. “The final price for entry into the Phantom Thieves is...”

⁺⋆✰ Chapter Choice ✰⋆⁺

It's up to you, Player. Will the price be...

CHOICE 1: Lots of Aegyo

OR

CHOICE 2: A Kiss...

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

I’ve been seeing so many people say how they’re happy Leon in RE4R now isn’t a “simp” chasing after Ada anymore compared to OGRE4. I’m so confused ?? Because from what I remember Leon literally never chases Ada at all in OGR4, Ashley was always his priority, not even when she said he needed to get the parasite out of his body, he maintains that he needs to save Ashley first. I’m guessing they’re just mad that OG4 wasn’t as outwardly/verbally pissed at Ada to their liking. I mean OG Leon at least “attempted” to question and run after her when she took the sample and the end but RE4R just let her take it no questions asked lol

i generally think that people lack a lot of media literacy, and a lot of people (primarily new leon simps)(who also have never played the games) have taken fanfiction as canon. the whole "Ada cheats on Leon" thing? no idea where that came from.

re4 Leon was actually a lot more aloof and campy. i'd even argue that people could say he was an asshole at times lol. og re4 always had ada simping for leon in separate ways so i don't know where this narrative came from. ada really do be blowing up a ship for leon and also stopping his assassination but sure..

I hate the over implied "leon puts ashley above everything else," and interprets it as romantic. saving ashley was his JOB, first and foremost. he needed to get ashley out and safely back home, and then onto the next mission.

i'd argue that leon is actually more tender with ada at times in re4r. he has a pivotal conversation with ada in the boat, and they're much more vulnerable as opposed to the virtually silent boat scene in ogre4. leon is also much more tender with the bear charm keys in the remake, perhaps feeling a bit of regret with his he let his anger cloud is emotions. the realization that ada had planned an escape route for leon is much more clear and endeared as opposed to re4 where he just kinda goes like "very cute :| "and then moves on to immediately hit on hunnigan lmao.

the other change they made was that ada DID "threaten" leon with a gun for the sample at the end of re4, but in re4r, Leon let her go without any fight. ada also doesn't point her gun at him at all. not only that she never had her finger on the trigger when they first have their initial reunion. ada never meant to threaten leon with any real means of harm.

to be honest re4 and re4r have never been the most aeon centric games. they're an in between of the relationship and always had been. it's a turning point for them, a conflict that they both have and as we know from grade school story telling (lol), we need some sort of conflict before we can get to that resolve.

[kalicocoa]

An Announcement on the State of Night Rule

So I’ve been struggling with how to say these things and I finally just need to get it off my chest. I think I’ll feel better after finally speaking about things, so here we go!

After today, I will not be participating in the Project SEKAI fanbase outside of finishing my fanfiction, Night Rule!

I’ve had a lot of unsavory experiences with people in this fanbase that were behind closed doors in a way. (Discord Servers, Private Messages, etc.) Making a big stink out of things will only reflect poorly on me as past experience has proven to me, so I’d rather just let sleeping dogs lie and remove myself from the equation without making an enormous post about those things.

I don’t feel very safe when interacting with people anymore and more often than not I’m hurt by unnecessary hostile behavior toward me. Hostility that ranged from disagreeing on meaningless headcanons to straight up bigotry at my expense. (I quite literally watched as some passionate readers of my fic turned on me immediately upon learning I was a person of color. I don’t feel good about this and I never will either.)

However, Night Rule will be completed. I plan to finish it, even if my motivation is practically abysmal lately. I have love for my story and the completed outline I worked so hard on, but I do not feel well writing this story for people that ultimately think little of me as the creator.

That being said, updates will be extremely scarce from this point onward. Hopefully at least once a month, but I can’t promise this due to my current mental health state. You’re getting this fanfiction for free and it’s a work that has brought a lot of aggression toward me as a person, so you can be reasonable and accept that it will update as much as it will on my terms. Hope that’s understood, because if it isn’t, that’s something you’ll have to deal with on your own I’m afraid.

Night Rule was a creation of my own personal passion for Proseka and its cast, fit with my favorite fantasy tropes and ideas I had been dying to use in a story for years. For this reason, it’s much too special to me to abandon and I plan to keep this as a thing for me before I worry about how much people love or hate it.

I recommend that if you only follow me for Project SEKAI, you should probably unfollow me now! I will not be sharing posts of it anymore and the only things related to Proseka that will be posted will be updates on this fic and reblogged fanworks of Night Rule if people continue to make those. I’ll still be playing the game on occasion, but I will not be talking about it on here casually from here on out.

Where I plan to go from here, I’m not really sure. I still have things that I enjoy, so I plan to keep writing and reblogging things that I like. Maybe I’ll move on to the next big interest. Maybe I’ll disappear someday. Who knows. We’ll figure it out when we get there.

But the point remains, this chapter of my life is coming to a close, and the end of Night Rule will be the end of my involvement in this fanbase for good.

Thank you for understanding! See you on the flip side. (❁´◡`❁)

[heres-to-all-that-is-mine]

Im faaaairly certain I never shared this one? It’s about ✨ Zed ✨ rather than fanfiction, specifically somewhat early on in his “life.” It’s finished also! And maybe a little self indulgent.

(He’s okay with his situation! He thanks Her for the life She’s given him! He feels nothing so human as horror or guilt or revulsion or doubt, he promises.) :)

There’s a trick to it, he thinks.

To the smile. The one he wears near constantly when he’s out and about, the one that leaves his face kind of sore and an ache throbbing between his temples by the time the weekend rolls around that never seems to quite go away until he’s used to it and he doesn’t think about it anymore.

(Not gone but forgotten. The sentiment feels familiar in a way he doesn’t care to think about.)

He’d learned, over the years, that there was a trick to it - a little wiggle room in his polite demeanor.

Something in the tilt of his head, the quirk of his lips, how far the grin stretches, the way his eyebrows are positioned - the townsfolk don’t really notice, of course, of course, they’re too caught up in the sunshine and smiles.

But the new residents - before they become just residents - they seem to notice.

The slight variations to convey a feeling he may or may not be actually experiencing.

It makes him easier to trust, he thinks, when he shows them a more human side to his being. Something that sparks sympathy, maybe. (Of course, he isn’t human. He doesn’t have their flaws, doesn’t fill his head with doubt or suspicion or curiosity. He has his Guiding Light and he doesn’t intend to stray from the Path Illuminated by Her. No, he’s not as flawed as them.)

It makes them easier to convince. Gets them to trust him, his words, and eventually they trust Her, too - and if they don’t… there are only so many houses, and only so much time spent devoted to wearing them down.

Inevitably the security he lulled them into proves to be false and then, well. No more problem.

He doesn’t mind, of course, he doesn’t mind. It is his Sacred Duty, the Path Illuminated for him, he doesn’t mind. So long as he doesn’t have to get the blood on his own hands.

It’s awfully difficult to wash out.

(There’s a shirt stuffed into the back of his closet at home, yellow-orange-red-white stained mottled rusty brown and torn and scuffed. There’s no repairing it but he can’t find it in himself to throw it out. He doesn’t think about it, but sometimes, sometimes, his fingers brush the fabric and there’s a frown on his face instead of the smile he’s practiced and practiced and practiced.)

Nighttime is, somehow, both easier and harder.

There’s no need for the smiles at Night, the Watch too caught up in the howling in their head and blood and bones to care about such things. But he doesn’t know what to do with his face without it so mostly he just smiles anyway. He doesn’t go out at Night much.

Sometimes there are People out at Night, even though they know they aren’t supposed to be, even with the mist She spreads to keep them safely indoors until the Day when she can Watch them, even with the Watch out to enforce curfew.

He doesn’t chase them. That’s not his job.

What is his job is to inform the Watch of the disturbance.

The Watch gives chase. Their teeth find purchase in pliant flesh and crackling bone and chewy sinew, and there is blood and noises that bring back something hot-cold-heavy-sharp in his gut but there is no blood on his hands.

There is nothing to try (and fail, and fail, and fail) to wash out, of course, of course. The blood is not on his hands, his face, his clothes.

His Light (his Blessed burden) illuminates the scene in warm yellow, a pallid reflection of Her light, casting the dark splatters and writhing shapes in amber, ochre, marigold.

His face hurts from smiling but he’s long forgotten the pain. A certain tilt to his head, the stretch of his lips exposing gums and teeth, the way his eyes turn upwards, almost glowing as they reflect his halo - something in his expression - sparks a look in their eyes before their life fades like a candle snuffed.

He’s never been sure what that look is.

Fear, maybe. Reverence. Anger. Shock?

He thinks they forget sometimes, even with the glowing molten gold reminder affixed to his head, that he’s not human.

Maybe he’s a little too good at that trick.

(His hands tremble, afterwards - cold - and he itches to pull the little carton and cold steel from his pocket but he doesn’t, not right away, not until he’s far away from the carnage, safely basking in the glow of a streetlight.

The lighter clicks once, twice, thrice into a small flame and he has to use both hands to steady them enough to light the cigarette he’s stuck between his teeth.

He breathes in the smoke and holds it there for a moment, and it feels like heat curling in his chest, chasing away the awful chill that’s left him with a tremor, before he breathes it out and it catches the light like a prism.

(He finds a spatter of red on his left shoe and scuffs it against the ground to wipe it away and the chill is back, but it’s the Night - it’s always cold.)

No, he doesn’t go out at Night often.)

He studies his face in the mirror sometimes. Tries to recreate the expression, to see what it is that they see, but he never quite manages it, he thinks.

There’s a trick to it.

Something about the blood, maybe.

His head aches - between his temples, all the way to the back of his head, pouring down his spine (like hot blood) and along his shoulder blades where the skin feels pulled taut (it burns).

He doesn’t mind, of course, of course. Her guidance comes at a cost, as he’d been told. He’ll pay the price gladly.

Even if it means having Her Light burned into his eyelids when he closes them, though it dims as his mind drifts, a kindness from Her he’s sure, and the aches fade with the taste of smoke curling along the back of his throat, mingling with the warm burning taste of the drink he’d downed.

He’ll have forgotten it by the time tomorrow rolls around, though it hasn’t quite gone, and he’ll smile as he always does.