#he was in foster care and had a shit time i like making him suffer

[deckoftrickcards]

made a lil thing on my sisters ipad

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 5)

You were never one to complain. Living in the foster system means accepting all kinds of shit that comes with being an orphan in a stranger's house.

You almost never received any presents. It was rare the times you did get something at your placements, but if you did, it was a hand me down. Like the thin blue jacket you came wearing, that was a present from a divorced mother who kids were already too big for the jacket. Or the white dress that a christian family gave to you so you could go to church with them 'dressed appropriately'.

Well, you couldn't complain about that one. The simple white dress is to this day your 'fanciest' piece of clothing.

You wouldn't say you were that much of a picky eater either, but you certainly didn't like all kinds of food... which is pratically torture in the system. You just learned to push all kinds of food down your throat quietly, and if it was truly too bad for you to manage? You would simply come up with a weak excuse and run away from the food.

Being any kind of picky eater in the system was torture. Even worse if you have allergies. You knew a boy at your last group home that was allergic to glutten and peanuts, and he was basically as thin as you were. He was still bigger, being a cat hybrid and all, but at least you knew you weren't the only one suffering at these houses.

So imagine your surprise when John, the big hybrid dragon, spend his whole morning gently coaxing you to go shopping with him and Simon, to get 'things you might need', and 'snacks you might like to eat', and even 'go grab lunch at the mall'.

At first, you were too nervous and anxious to say anything, mostly just staring back at him as you fidgeted quietly in place. It took Johnny joining the conversation excitedly, Kyle sending you stupid thumbs up quietly from the living room couch, and Simon picking up the keys to their car while looking at you expectantly for you to finally agree to go with them.

So here you were, walking between two giants of men at a big and loaded shopping center, nervously trying to keep your pace matched up to theirs as Simon made sure to keep a hand enveloped tightly around your much smaller hand.

Worse of all? A lot of people were looking your way. Big hybrids like Price and Ghost weren't unnusual, but the small little human holding their hand surely was. Not only human, but a human under the care of hybrids. You wanted to burry your head in a deep hole and never come out.

"Darlin'." John's deep and purred voice called your attention immediatly as you looked up at him quietly. "Don't try and wander off, understood?"

You nod quietly, slightly intimidated by his tone and serious face.

"Good baby." He purrs out, giant hand coming down on your head as he messes slightly with the small strands there. "Now, sweetness, let's buy you some things."

"I... I really d-don't need anything..." You murmur quietly, a bit anxious about them wasting money on you.

Both of them looked at you with those serious expressions for a few seconds, considering you. John smiled slightly as he compromised, lifting both hands up.

"Then let's look around, if we find something, then that's good." His laugh is deep, slow and rough. It's clear the smoke from his dragon side had some effect on his throat. That, and he probably smoked cigars and cigarettes too.

You just nodded quietly, not willing to go against his word, as you three kept walking around. That is, until Simon grunted, fixing the surgical mask on his face and looking down like he was thinking of something.

".......what...?" You murmur softly, confused.

"I think you're breaking Simon's back, hun." John laughed deeply, shaking his head slightly.

"W-Wha...?"

"You're too small for me to hold your hand confortably." The wraith deadpanned. "Stay still."

"W-Wait, wh- Aah!"

You were stunned for a second, as you were suddenly held high up. Big, thick arms held your legs easily, making you sit in the crook of his elbow, as he held you to his side like a toddler. It was enough to shut your little squeak of surprise as you were just in shock now.

"Simon, I told you to be gentle." The dragon smirked slightly, tho his voice a bit more rough than usual as it seems to always have an edge of a growl on it.

"I am." The wraith grunted quietly as he started to walk once again. "This is the best option for the both of us. Right, luv?"

"A-Ah... I..." You were too flustered to properly say anything, but you still nodded your head slowly, trying to settle on his arms.

"See?" Simon smirked under his mask to John, as the older man simply rolled his eyes with a smile on his face.

"Say, darlin'. Do you like ice cream?" John offers out of nowhere as he smiles confidently, ignoring Simon's remark.

".....some flavors, yeah..." You mumble back, a little arm holding on Simon's shoulder as you looked around quietly, trying to ignore other people's looks.

"What's your favorite?" He asks easily, taking a different path as Simon followed close behind.

"...Vanilla is good..."

"Good, then vanilla is what you're gonna get." He answers simply, with the confidance you don't think you have ever seen on anyone else.

"...it's... it's really okay if you don't..." You try quietly, only to see him shaking his head slowly, looking over his shoulder that didn't have the wing, expression serious and stoic as his rough voice murmured.

"I provide to my hoard, little hatchling. It would do you good to remember that."

Those words, spoken in that way, was enough to immediatly shut you up, your body instinctively curling on itself (more on Simon really) at the sigh of an intimidating predator.

Tho, Simon didn't let you suffer in your fear and anxiety, as his big and wide palm settled on your small back, pulling you closer to his chest for confort as he was speaking, slow and quiet, even if his voice always sounded rough.

"Price's not mad, fledgling. Stay calm. He's not mad, much less mad at you. He's just a protective bastard." He snorted quietly, bouncing you a little on his arms to help you calm down.

"Watch it, Riley." Price mumbled, tho he had a small smile on his face as he slowed his pace a bit to stand by you and Simon, big hand now being placed on your upper back, which was a slightly shock due to how warm it felt. Simon was wearing gloves, but he felt much cooler. "And i'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to scare you."

He was also doing that subtle baby voice, keeping his voice much quieter as he leaned in and gently nudged half of his face against yours, making you freeze a bit at the action. It really felt like a big animal was trying to be apologetic.

"If Kyle was here, you would've gotten an ear full." Simon commented simply as he watched, amused.

"Thank god he isn't." John huffs a little, stepping back. "I don't need mother hen scolding me for this. I didn't even growl." And now, he was leaning slightly closer again, that quiet and gentle tone coming back as he looked at your small, nervous face. "I'm not that scary, am I, darlin'?"

"'Course you are, for a small little thing like this?" Simon laughs roughly, shaking his head, his grip in you getting firmer.

"I-I'm not scared..." You mumble quietly, playing a bit with the sweater that they lent it to you yesterday, not making eye contact with either of them.

"Of course not, darlin'..." John cooed deeply, tho his tone made it clear that he wasn't taking your answer seriously, rubbing your head gently. "Come on."

In the end, they got you a vanilla ice cream on a big cone, that you were licking it quietly. They were speaking with eachother as they planned what next things to buy, and what stores to visit. You weren't paying that much attention, just focusing on your vanilla ice cream as Simon carreid you around.

You got used to him carrying you, and now, you were much more confortable on his hold.

"Baby, look here." John's voice once again called your attention as you lifted your head from the ice cream to stare at him. "What do you think of this blanket?"

You tilted your head to the side, slightly confused, but you reached for the soft blanket he brough close, feeling the fuzzy, confortable texture.

"It's... good." You mumble, unsure about what to say.

"Just good?" John asked, considering your answer, looking between you and the blanket, before putting it back in place. "Let's see others, then."

You were not entirely sure what John was trying to do. Maybe buy you a blanket, but... you already had lots of blankets on the bed they gave you. And on the weird nest on the middle too.

Still, you got distracted once again with the ice cream in your tiny hold, going back to licking it. You were already getting a bit full... you were never the biggest fan of ice cream, you got tired of it fast. So, as you looked quietly to the side to stare at Simon's face, you gently brought the cone close to his face, making him look at you passively.

"Do you want a bit...?" You mumble softly, only to see the man pushing his surgical mask to his chin and taking a big bite out of the ice cream you were holding in front of his face.

You managed to see his scary, pointy and large teeth, the slightly too long and sharp tongue at the action, making you instinctively shudder on his hold. It was natural, a human watching their predator showing their dangerous teeth like it was nothing. Still, you were thankful for his help.

"Oww...." You turned a bit alarmed to John's direction as you heard the dragon's deep croon, his eyes getting half-lidded and pupils dilating. "Always soft for the hatchlings, aren't you, Simon?"

Simon just hums, swallowing the ice cream and licking his lips simply, keeping his serious expression.

"I'm used to being the kids' trashcan." He... joked? You were not sure, since he kept his face and tone so stony, but by John's laugh, you deduced it was a joke.

"Here, hun, how does this blanket feel?" John asks as he brings another fuzzy blanket close, light blue and full of colorful little dots.

"Good... confortable..." You mumble, feeling the material.

"Hmmm...." John considered once again, humming as he squinted his eyes.

"John, you know humans don't nest. She's not going to have hard instincts towards blankets." Simon comments, almost bored as te took another bite of your almost finished ice cream.

"I know, it's just... different to see it." John nods slightly before shrugging. "Do you like this color, little one?"

You just nod quietly, now understanding a bit more what was going on. Indeed, you shouldn't expect nesting instincts from a human, but even you could tell when the blanket was confortable and made from a good material.

"Come on, doll. Let's see what else we can find for you before having lunch." John mumbles softly, leaning close once again, quickly kissing Simon on the lips, who kissed back easily, and then kissing you on the forehead gently.

They were... very nice. Even if a bit scary.

[cakelitter]

Eternally Loved

Yandere/Corrupt! Leon x Fem! Reader

warnings: dead dove do not eat, daddy kink, oral (f receive), p in v

summary: He needs to protect you, to keep you his. You’re too brittle for anyone else, they wouldn’t know what to do with you. Only he deserves you, he is the only one that knows how to handle you. Yes, yes, only him.

words: 3.3k

a/n: this idea has been in my head for a while now and I had to get it out of my system. Enjoy!! <33

Leon never thought he’d end up like this… actually he did. Orphan since the ripe age of seven, spent the rest of his upbringing in the shitty foster care system, started police academy which surprisingly wasn’t that bad compared to some situations he was in. And just when he thought things are starting to look up for him after he graduated, he finds himself in the virus outbreak in Raccoon City.

Out of the many cities and towns he could’ve chosen to work in, he chose Raccoon city. Not even assigned or forced; for once in his life, he had the privilege of choosing what to do, and look what that got him.

After barely making it out alive, he goes back to what’s familiar. Getting forced to do shit he never signed up for. Working as an agent for the government, the right hand of the president of the United States of America, what a fucking honor.

It’s like he’s allergic to happiness, sentenced to a life of misery since the day he was dragged into this world. He’s in his late thirties now, living alone, eating alone, drinking alone, sleeping, crying, smiling, fighting, all alone.

Sherry visits from time to time, and that’s the only occasion where he feels like he’s not fighting the urge to jump off a cliff. It’s a once-a-year sort of occasion though, but that’s good enough for him. Christmas for Leon is the day that Sherry visits, the only thing he looks forwards to each year.

Claire visits too, but mostly to make sure he isn’t dead, taking his medication and going to therapy. He swears he does, even though he doesn’t. All the therapists he tried always look at him, overwhelmed on what to tackle first. Taking him apart and dissecting his brain like he’s some sort of lab rat.

He knew that not getting help was going to catch up to him someday. Although he expected it to backfire on him, like a bullet to the head or giving up on fighting whatever bioweapon he’s facing, letting it end his suffering before he does it himself. Instead, you’re now passed out in the backseat of his car.

He was having a bad day, well, every day is a bad day when you’re Leon Kennedy. Driving slowly back to his place, and you just so happened to be walking out of your college campus. Backpack on your back, your eyes glued to your phone, you’re not even paying attention to your surroundings.

How irresponsible.

You’re a sweet thing, really. So young and full of life, enough to brighten up his dark and dingy days, he can sense it. You look loved, pampered and cared for, something he lacked. He’s sure that you have enough love inside of you to share it with him, life hasn’t robbed you of your youthful smile and bright eyes. How funny would it be if he just… took you.

Apparently to him it was fucking hilarious cause, next thing you know he parked his car and is making his way to you. Kidnapping you was fairly easy; you were already walking on an empty street when he made up his mind to borrow you for a bit. You fought back, trying to free yourself from is hold. A for effort, but it wasn’t enough for him to let you go.

A few empty threats while putting you in the back of his car were enough to shut you up, so fucking gullible. Cried your heart out as he drove, honestly you were kind of an ugly crier, plus you were making him feel bad so it’s starting to get on his nerves.

Eventually though, you pass out from hyperventilating. Very dramatic, like he could’ve done worse. He has a pistol attached to his hip at all time and didn’t even pull it out once to scare you. Fine he was kidnapping you, but gently, so can’t you be grateful for that?

That was five months ago, and since then you’ve gotten better. At first, you’d repulse every time he came closer to you, tears rapidly brimming in your eyes, pleading whispers asking him not to hurt you. He wasn’t going to in the first place, he wanted someone to soothe the aching loneliness in his heart, that’s why you’re here.

There is a difference between a pathetic unloved loser, and a psychopath. He never hurt you, not even once, ever since that fateful day when he laid his eyes on you.

He did have to scare you a few times though, but again all empty threats; like he’s going to hurt your family if you think about screaming or even considering escaping. Shit he sees in movies.

Again, first time kidnapping someone, he’s a little nervous. Funnily enough, he didn’t even know your name back then, let alone your parents’ name. But it got the job done of keeping you in line.

Now he does know your name, it’s pretty just like you, it suits you. But he doesn’t use it, calling you pet names is better, helps him live the fucked-up fantasy of the two of you being in love. His sweet baby, always waiting for him back home.

Truthfully, he treats you fairly well for someone who kidnapped you. Asking what you want to eat, making effort to learn your interests and hobbies, even buying you small gifts that you might like from time to time.

And after a few weeks, you started accepting him. Asking him questions about himself, snuggling up next to him while watching a movie, and begging him not to leave for work. As much as he appreciates the fact that you actually care for him now, he’s aware that this is all a trauma response. Stockholm syndrome is a blessing in this particular situation; as long as a part of you has accepted him and loved him, is all he’s asking for.  

You’re a curious little thing, questioning him about his past, present and future, what’s his job and why he sometimes disappears for days. He should get pissed, and put you in your place, but you’re too cute to cry so he answers vaguely. Besides, it’s nice to have someone be interested in learning about you, feels like ages since he experienced that.

All you know about him is his name, just his first name, that he saves the world in order to protect you, and that he would never hurt you; and that’s exactly all he wants you to know. You feel like a chance for him to start from scratch, a breath of fresh air, totally and utterly clueless on what kind of shit he sees and has seen outside the walls of his apartment.

He has noticed however, how you seem to get dumber and dumber by the day. Well, no shit you’ve been spending majority of the past five months alone staring at the different walls facing you. Your past life becoming noting more than just a distant memory, fading away with each second.

Now all of your focus and knowledge is about Leon, Leon, Leon, Leon. The man you once feared becoming the axis of your world, he can even consider himself your hero with the way you’re treating him.

The name Leon however is a name you’re not allowed to say out loud, just like he uses pet names to address you, you are expected to do the same. Leon is dead now, Leon is the man that kidnapped you. Daddy however, keeps you safe from this scary world.

You’re not allowed to go outside because people will try to hurt you, so you should always be with daddy. You’re not allowed to have your family come over, because they will try to take you away from daddy. You’re not allowed to dwell on the life you once lived, because that makes daddy upset, you would never want to make daddy upset right?

Daddy always knows best, so you should always listen to him. Is the foundation he used to build his castle, no, empire in that pretty head of yours.

Truth be told, Leon has been obsessing over you as well. Kidnapping you at first was just to fill the gaping hole in his heart. But now if you get even a tiny papercut, he goes crazy.

Managed to slither into his tattered heart and grew your ivy all over it. His life has been better since you were yanked into it.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Please daddy.”

“Love you, Daddy.”

Fuck, he can hear your voice when you’re not even there.

The eerie quietness of his apartment is now gone, replaced with the sound of the TV in the living room, with you sitting on the couch in his shirt. His bed is no longer cold and empty, your body is there to warm it up, your scent making it feel more comforting.

He needs to protect you, to keep you his. You’re too brittle for anyone else, they wouldn’t know what to do with you. Only he deserves you, he is the only one that knows how to handle you. Yes, yes, only him.

You begged him to let you out just once, promising you’d never try to run away. He honestly forgot that was something he needed to worry about. You’d never run away, even if you wanted to. Fucked you up so bad, your entire sense of self, morality, and survival instincts in shambles.

Was going to say no, and remind you of the rules. But you asked so politely and have been such a good girl lately. Surely you deserve a reward other than his cock.

And so, he takes you to the park, your eyes looking around like you have never seen trees before. Everything is going fine, you’re behaving, and he’s relaxing. Deciding to buy the two of you ice cream, he leaves you for not more than two minutes to buy it at the nearby stand.

That’s when a guy that seems about your age, starts talking to you. Discomfort and fear are written all over your face.

“Rule number 17, no talking to anyone besides daddy.”  Is what he can assume you mind keeps repeating, your lips are sealed, biting on them, not letting a word leave your mouth and praying that he leaves you alone.

As soon as you spot Leon looking over at you, he can see you start to tremble in fear.

That person is trying to take you away from him, everyone tries to take things he loves away from him. No no, not you, anything but you. He’s definitely going to hurt you, what if he has a knife? What if he recognizes you from the missing person’s report your family posted all over town.  

Such an idiotic move by the way, if anyone did find you, they would never give you up.

The day didn’t end the way he hoped, he dragged you back home after shooing away the guy that was talking to you, his fists clenched so hard, they’re almost cramping. Blinded by rage, he threw a whole fit once you made it back home. Throwing items across the room, yelling and screaming at you; he couldn’t even recognize himself at this point.

It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t break any of the rules, and he knows that. This is simply his paranoia acting up, it’s his issues acting up.

You start having a panic attack, hyperventilating and crying. Seeing you like this causes a switch to flip in his head. And so, he approaches you slowly, wrapping you in his arms, one of his hands rubbing your back gently and planting soft kisses on the crown of your head.

“I’m sorry, baby. Daddy’s here, daddy would never hurt you.”  Whispering into your hair. “You know I love you right? My sweet angel, always such a good girl f’me”

Breathing starts to become more regular, and you stop sobbing, hugging him back and seeking comfort from the same person that you should hate with a burning passion. Taking in a deep breath, he holds you, patting your hair and humming a tune.

“Did I scare you, baby?” he asks after a little while. “Yeah…”

He’s disappointed in himself; thought he left that behavior back in the past, when he didn’t know how to deal with you. “You know I didn’t mean that right? I just care for you, that guy could’ve been dangerous, sweetheart.”

 Your head nods against his chest, your arms tightening around him. “How about you let daddy take care of you baby? How does that sound?” you nod again, causing his lips to curl up into a smile.

Pulling away, he grabs your chin and tilts it up. Your watery eyes lock with his, some tears still wetting your cheeks. “My pretty girl.”

Bending down, he kisses one of your wet cheeks, caressing it with his thumb. Chapped lips then drop down to yours, kissing them gingerly. It starts off as sweet, then he amps up the fierceness of it. You moan into his mouth, hand grabbing his shirt in your fist, holding him in place.

Flattered by your eagerness, he continues. Cornering you against the dining table, hands making their ways to your hips, easily lifting you up and setting you back down. His lips wrap around your bottom lip, kissing and tugging on it with a delicate bite.

He grabs your arms that are desperately clinging onto his chest, and holds them in a firm grip as his lips move to your neck. Littering your neck with hickeys and love bites, one of his favorite activities.

It’s a shame that they go away though, but that’s just another excuse to give you more. Purple flowers blossoming on your neck when his lips detach from the skin. He can smell the scent of his shampoo in your hair, drives him crazy all the time.

Your eyes close, breathy moans escaping those doll lips of yours. If kissing you to death could kill you, you’d be long gone by now. Lips dripping with maple, and sweet like honey; only a matter of time before he gets cavities.

One of his hands pushes you lightly to lie down on the surface beneath you, hands travelling up your plush thighs. He spreads you out, hiking your pink dress up, exposing your soaked panties. The sight making blood rush to his cock.

Dropping down to his knees, he marvels at the sight in front of him, urging him to lick his lips as his mouth feels dry. Hooking his finger into the gusset of your panties, he swiftly pulls them off, watching as your wet cunt glistens with need.

He blows some air onto your core, causing your knees to quiver and your breath to hitch. Looking down at him, your brows furrow in irritation as he sits and does nothing.

“Daddy, please…” God, that whining, how he loves it.

“Let daddy enjoy the view for a bit, sweetheart.” Knowing you can’t argue back, you rest your head back on the table. He notices that you’re obeying, and rewards you with his thumb running up your slit before circling your clit.

Slick begins to drip even more from your aching cunt, while your hips squirm trying to get as much friction as possible. Removing his finger, he leans closer and flattens his tongue against your pussy savoring your taste.

Rough hands wrap under your thighs then rest on your hip, pulling you to the edge of the surface. He presses his face fully against your wet heat, feverishly sucking and licking your sensitive bundle of nerves, before pushing his tongue into your hole, nose bumping against your clit.

Groaning at the taste, he eats you like a man starved. You on the other hand, in pure bliss. Eyes closed, mouth open, letting those adorable sighs and moans slip through your lips. Chanting daddy over and over like he isn’t between your thighs.

Your hands claw at anything and everything you can reach, settling on your breast, giving it a light squeeze making Leon’s heart ache with jealousy. Pulling his mouth away, he gathers spit in his mouth before letting it drip down onto your cunt.

Thighs begin to squirm at the feeling of the warm fluid dripping from your clit and down to your entrance. “Fuck, so fucking sexy.”

Dropping back down, he connects his mouth back between the apex of your thighs. Eating you out with determination, passion, and like his life depends on it. Pulling the hood of the clit back and sucking, making your hips jolt in pleasure.

“Prettiest girl, got the prettiest dolly pussy. Can’t wait to fuck this tight hole full of my cum.” You’re so into this, it’s adorable, he’s practically drowning down here.

Only a few seconds later, you come undone on his tongue. Legs shaking, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He moves back, stubble completely drenched and swollen pink lips. His dick throbs with need, as he roughly palms it through his jeans.

Standing back up, he begins to unbuckle his belt, the sound of the jingling snapping your out of wherever that orgasm sent you off to. Pulling out his thick cock, he gives it a few strokes, watching as precum gathers on the head of the tip.

He sucks in a breath of air, and looks back over at you. Eyes on his dick like it’s the first time seeing it, like he doesn’t dick you down every night till your fast asleep.

“Can daddy fuck this pretty little pussy baby?” he says, slapping the sticky tip against your mound, watching the invisible strings connect the two surfaces with lust and desire. You nod, biting your lip and gawking at what he’s doing.

“Of course he can, this slutty cunt can never say no to dick now can she?” he chuckles lowly. “Always so fucking needy and wet.”

Wasting no time, he slots himself between your folds and thrusts all the way in. You let out a yelp while he moans at the stretch. All of your thinking skills being replaced by thoughts of his dick, and it’s very evident on your face.

He grins, watching you through hooded eyes. “Pull that dress down a bit sweetheart, let me see those tits.”

You comply, pulling the material covering your breasts down, leaving you top naked in the absence of your bra. His calloused fingers twinge the stiff peaks as his hips begin to move.

He’s so deep in you, you can feel his dick in your throat, not like that’s an unfamiliar feeling anyways. He starts off relatively slow, to compensate for the way he plunged into you. But that tenderness quickly vaporizes as he begins to slam into you, the sound of skin slapping and the smell of sex filling the room.

The way your tits bounce with each thrust, the way you keep licking those lips, and the way you keep sucking him in are not doing you any favors of making him give up the idea of pouncing on you like a dog.

Holding back his moans is getting nearly impossible with your velvety walls squeezing his cock; each time his skin grazes your swollen clit. In attempts of shutting the two of you up, he crashes his lips against yours in a messy kiss.

His hand sneaking into the space between the two of you and stimulating your abused clit. And in return, you wrap your legs around his torso.

All it takes is a few rough circles on your pudgy bundle of nerves and a few strokes on the sweet spot inside your walls for you to be cuming yet again. This time however dragging him along with you. He lets out a broken moan as your walls milk every drop of cum out his balls, making him see stars.

Thrusting into you a few more times. He notices the sight of the familiar white ring surrounding the base of his cock before pulling out with a nasty slick sound.

He moves towards your sprawled out body, and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. Kissing your jaw, and rubbing the small beads of sweat on your forehead.

“Daddy’s Girl.”

divider by: @/cisneroto

[novalpha]

𝘞𝘰𝘯𝘸𝘰𝘰 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The shattered camera ✹♡⌗୨୧ -> @puppetwritings

Summary: Wonwoo already had enough on his plate as it is—proving his parents wrong, making a living, fighting his just conscience—and with you in the picture, nothing could possibly go more wrong. Or could you be his ticket to the good life that he wanted?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Head in the clouds (Landing among stars) ♡୨୧♤✹ -> @twogyuu

Synopsis: You're busy. He's busy. Doctors are busy. Pilots are busy. But somehow, he always found time for you - including pretending to be your boyfriend for your cousin's wedding.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Hi Wonwoo ୨୧ -> @diamondyjh

Synopsis: Sharing the details about your day with your boyfriend is a part of your daily routine.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Favorite ★ -> @wonusite

Synopsis: When Professor Jeon realizes his most earnest student is no longer paying him the attention he craves, he goes to great lengths to make sure he’s the only one holding her attention.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Love you twice ♡୨୧★ -> @toruro

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Right where you left me ♡୨୧★ -> @tonicandjins

summary: in which wonwoo leaves and takes your heart with him. three years later, you're in another city, but tragically, right where he left you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ In the spring ♡୨୧ -> @viastro

synopsis: in which you suffer from a car accident and have amnesia when you wake up. wonwoo is your current boyfriend, but you keep remembering your ex. [inspired by the numerous tiktoks i saw with this prompt]

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Payment due ♡୨୧★ -> @solarwonux

Synopsis: HYBE U one of the top highly prestigious universities in the country. A shit hole, a total money making scam that liked to sucked the life out of its students. Not being able to meet the funds to pay for your tuition your best friend lets you in a little secret. A way he’s been keeping afloat for years now, easy money. The problem is you want in. 

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Sharing is caring but I don't care ♡✹ -> @gamerwoo

Summary: All cat hybrids are different, but Wonwoo is exactly what you’d expect: reclusive, only wants attention for a limited amount of time, and slightly passive aggressive. You don’t mind, you love Wonwoo all the same. But he suddenly gets a lot more clingy after your best friend asks you to babysit the dog hybrid he’s fostering that seems to take a liking to you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Wedding weekends with Wonwoo ♡✹୨୧ -> @suhnshinehaos

SYNOPSIS. jeon wonwoo, the perfect man. kind, smart, successful career, and not too bad on the eyes. all his friends are getting married and everyone’s aunts, mothers, and family friends are trying to set him up with their friends, sisters, brothers, nieces, and nephews at every wedding he attends. he’s tired of it. what better way to solve his problem than to employ your help, someone who’s having the exact same one?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Blind ♡୨୧ -> @wtf-taeyong

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Roommates with benefits ♡★✹ -> @shuaflix

SUMMARY ▸ initially, wonwoo doesn’t think much about your incessant requests to play on his xbox. however, when what was supposed to be a two-hour visit to his place stretches out for two weeks, he starts to think you’re overstaying your welcome.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Momentum ♡୨୧♤ -> @wonlouvre Part 2 , Part 3

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ His favourite colour is blue ♡୨୧ -> @euphoricsunflowers

summary: there’s this guy in your history class who is so attractive, but he’s cold and closed off. guess you gotta fix that.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Love me tender...or maybe not ♡★ -> @multi-kpop-fanfics

Summary: cupids are the messengers of love and eros. but not all of them have truly experienced eros, in mind and flesh.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Your friends suck ♡୨୧★ -> @bambikisss

Summary: Your friend group is filled with people who tend to push their wants onto you, so with you being a pushover, you sorta let them. Wonwoo takes notice after a while and begins to help you pull away.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Just ask ♡୨୧★ -> @idyllic-ghost

synopsis: you're not very good at asking for things, especially not of the sexual kind. but maybe you can be driven to a point where you simply have to ask.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Amour-Haine & Co ♡୨୧★ -> @wonwoosthetic

Six years. Six long years have you been working side-by-side with your father. Balancing studying at university while playing his right hand throughout it all without ever complaining about how hard it was, but rather always putting 200% into everything you did. You helped him grow the company to where it now was.

And now, after the many ups and downs you have shared, he retires only to let the company get bought by some young wannabe Jeff Bezos, who thinks money and looks is everything he needs to get him through life.

If someone thought you’d just let this pass and work as Jeon Wonwoo’s side chick… they would be wrong. So, let the games begin.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Blood love , Part 2 ♡୨୧★ -> @multi-kpop-fanfics

Summary: Swearing off human blood can be condemning for a vampire - despite Wonwoo surviving without it for decades. But living in the current era is much more different than the past - because you exist.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Good luck charm ♡★ -> @sluttywoozi

Summary: Progamer!wonwoo is having a minor breakdown in a closet pre-tournament. Good thing you know the perfect good luck charm for him!

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Sucker (for you) ♡✹ -> @gyu-effect

SUMMARY || First year in college was always known to be stressful with all the assignments to complete, parties to enjoy and lectures to attend. But for you, it was a whole different type of stress: the conflicting (and growing) feelings of affection towards your best friend. Falling for him isn’t an option, but neither is avoiding him. So what do you do when you are down bad for the one and only Jeon Wonwoo?

Or, in which, one drunk party sends you hurtling down a rollercoaster of love for your best friend.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Meet cute of the century ♡୨୧★ -> @lovelyhan

the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Homewrecked ♡୨୧★ -> @ncteez

Wonwoo doesn’t seem to realize that you’re giving him the best option out of a relationship that doesn’t even involve you. With a cheating best friend on one side, and a loyal Wonwoo loving her from two hours away on another, you decide that home wrecking isn’t always a bad idea. 

or the one where wonwoo fights internal demons over wanting you bc he’s in a relationship that he doesn’t even realize is falling apart.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ POV ♡୨୧ -> @by-soleil

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Something old, something new ♡★ -> @kwanisms

summary: When you get the news that your cousin is getting married, you lie about bringing your boyfriend as your date. Panicking, you ask your best friend, Wonwoo, to be your fake boyfriend.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The Peephole ★ -> @rubyreduji

summary: wonwoo can’t stop thinking about how he wants to ruin his roommate, the peephole in his wall isn’t helping tamper those desires either

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Pretend It's Someone That Came for You ♡୨୧★ -> @beefboyandbabygirl

description: you're lonely. you're so lonely you think it might actually kill you. but when wonwoo transfers to your office, he might just change that fact.

[ More wonwoo fic recs will be updated ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

[mxtxfanatic]

Not really a JC ask, but more of a JC adjacent one.

Why didn't Jiang Fengmian ever divorce Madam Yu? I think you mentioned somewhere that JFM was also a victim to Madam Yu's abuse, and while I am not necessarily disagreeing, I do struggle to understand or even feel empathetic towards him for still being there and letting her act as she does with their children when she, factually, doesn't have any actual power over him or the sect.

In fact, she actively rejects the sect by keeping her maiden name and refusing to be Madam Jiang.

Looking at it in an objective way, Madam Yu... Doesn't have anything. She has Zidian. She has her strength. But none of that strength actually translate to the power that Sect Leader Jiang possesses as the sect leader of one of the Five Great Sects.

It's a reason why she's so insecure, because she knows that she has none of the political power necessary to hold onto her position.

Why didn't JFM divorce her, when the previous sect leader that had pushed for that marriage passed away? He didn't even want to marry her, did he?

I understand that abuse victims struggle to leave their abusers, and I do feel for that, but I am of the mind that if children are involved, then no matter your feelings you should protect them.

And by that I mean actually protect them, none of that half assed bullshit that's just placating everyone for the sake of a shaky peace that nobody is satisfied with.

It feels like a remix of Lan Xichen, who, in pursuit of making everyone content, ended up just ignoring the warnings and stood aside as everyone else around him suffered.

I find it interesting how JFM preached for the ideals of the sect, to "attempt the impossible", and yet he never dares try anything to actually help anyone around him.

When people say that they wouldn't say he neglected his children, I beg to argue, because he absolutely did. Yes he couldn't say a word whenever his wife was around, but what could've possibly stopped him from keeping her from doing that, or, if inneficient, then to make er a non issue anymore.

The very patriarchal, classist and misogynist society he lives in wouldn't have batted an eye at that, because as a sect leader he had every right to do whatever he wanted with his own wife.

His inaction and cowardice fostered a cycle of abuse that every one of Madam Yu's victims could've been spared from had he just done anything, so I find it hard to consider his contribution in his family as anything more than gross negligence.

Obviously, she is terrible. She is abusive. JFM isn't any worse than her. But from where I'm standing, he was a bystander that let things happen and fostered an illusion of having his hands tied when he very much did not, and never did anything to actually help any of the children in his care, other than that time he broke Yanli's engagement after learning Jin Zixuan had disrespected her and that's...

Hardly anything in the grand scheme of things.

I don't disagree with you, anon. In fact, I think this is part of the larger critique that the novel leverages at modern society: instead of fighting for better even after being dealt a shit hand, people would rather fall into passivity and accept their recently received shit hand as their new status quo. Jiang Fengmian was forced into a political marriage with Yu Ziyuan, but even after his father died, he maintained the marriage along with all the dysfunction that came with it, leading to the destruction of his clan and its legacy. Despite the QishanWen kidnapping their heirs and almost killing them, no clan does anything. Despite the QishanWen having the Cloud Recesses burned, killing the former Nie Clan leader, chasing dangerous monsters into the territories of other clans, thereby endangering their people, and being responsible for the Lan Clan leader's death, not a single clan rebels until the Nie pick up the banner for the Sunshot Campaign after successfully repelling the invading Wen forces and killing the Wen heir. Until that moment, all the rest of the clans were willing to overlook the Wen's behavior and accept every escalation as the new norm. Jiang Fengmian is even shown to have traveled back and forth to Qishan to beg his disciples' swords off the Wen despite those people almost killing his son.

After the Sunshot Campaign, nobody says anything about the labor camps holding civilians, an issue Wei Wuxian made public. Nobody stuck up for Wei Wuxian being slandered except for Lan Wangji who was ignored and Mianmian who was then slandered. Nobody except Wei Wuxian said anything about the Jin Clan collecting clans former subsidiary to the QishanWen, and he's brushed aside. Nobody except Nie Mingjue says anything about Xue Yang's slaughtering of the Chen Clan, and then after he dies, nobody says anything about the multiple clan slaughters done at Jin Guangyao's own hands. Just as everyone was willing to accept the horribleness of the QishanWen as "business as usual" until it led to their own massacres, the fact that none of the post-war clans were willing to stand up for Wei Wuxian and the Wen remnants and, in fact, bayed for their slaughter is how whole-clan slaughters became "business as usual" to the post-war cultivation world.

So while I agree that Jiang Fengmian's decision to stay in his abusive marriage absolutely affects the quality and effectiveness of his parenting, I don't think we are meant to see this as a critique of the parenting capabilities of domestic abuse victims but as a critique on how people who don't truly stand for anything will passively welcome evil into their homes with little to no pushback, if they are not themselves throwing the doors wide open to welcome the evil in.

[carnalhaus]

if you STILL find yourself wondering why exactly sledge is so insanely fixated on praline, here u go :p

the whole reason sledge exists as a character is to show the impact praline can have on people. he’s actually not the only character used for this purpose, he just happens to be the only one still presently with her.

it’s worth mentioning that because of this, sledge has nothing else going on in his life. he had a completely normal youth with absolutely nothing traumatizing or strange. and then he met praline, and i think that’s when you really have to put yourself in his position. she quite literally plagues his daily life, he’s constantly responding to calls about this girl, she is the root of everything stressing him out. she’s doing crazy shit, cutting her face open, ripping her trailer apart (in the most literal sense), pulling knives on people, it’s the kind of thing that stays stuck in your mind when it’s the only interesting thing you’ve experienced in your mundane life.

he is very afraid of her because he doesn’t understand her or why she does what she does. he sees her throw herself into these dangerous situations without a care in the world and it’s mind boggling. it’s like watching a deer stare at the headlights. she can save herself, but she doesn’t, and he doesn’t understand. throughout the years that quite literally kept him up at night.

when she dies, the reason he becomes so fixated on it is because of guilt. he ends up realizing how much he failed her when he meets enid and actually *talks* to her, something he never did with praline, and figures out that these girls are just suffering. they were both beyond frustrating and hard to understand, yes, but all they needed was for someone to look at them and listen. he tries repairing this with enid, doing it right this time and actually trying to offer her support outside of her family that doesn’t care for her. hell, he even defends what she does sometimes because he’s so desperate to understand and protect her like he failed to protect praline. enid dying was his worst fear come true, and just a few months later, praline is killed too. both of those are enough to cement in his mind that he has amounted to absolutely nothing in his life. he goes off the rails from carrying the responsibility of two lives, two girls that looked to him for protection, and he didn’t protect them from jack shit.

keep in mind stuff like this isn’t really uncommon, in a sense. i went to an alternative school where a majority of the students there had horrible behavioral issues sparked by abusive homes, witnessing murders, involvement in gang activity, the foster system, etc etc. i even found myself getting irritated with certain people sometimes because no matter how hard you tried to understand why they did what they did, it just wouldn’t make sense, they wouldn’t listen. to put it in perspective, praline is exactly like these kids. she’s frustrating to the point where all you want to do is give up on her because she’s a lost cause. that’s what sledge did, that’s what most people do to kids like this.

he views her as a jesus christ figure because above all else, she quite literally “came back.” he ruined his life over guilt, and now he has to live with the fact that she’s alive, here, in front of him, staring at him, and he can’t go back and undo anything. he can’t get his job back, he can’t go back home, he can’t show his face anywhere, and it’s all because of her. he really has no other choice at this point but to stay with her, stat, and enid, because what else is he good for ? absolutely nothing. finding her was probably the only influential thing he’s ever amounted to in his boring miserable life. he’s dedicated to them because there is genuinely nothing else he’s useful for in the world.

it’s still mind boggling to him that she’s still alive, again put yourself in his position. that trailer had the bodies of six girls in it, all killed and torn apart, there is no logical way that she should’ve been able to get away that night. he was hanging onto a delusion that he wasn’t even fully sure he believed in because it was so outrageous, and it turned out to be true.

meanwhile, praline doesn’t think about him much. he’s not any different from other people in her life, ignoring her, doubting her, turning a blind eye. but there’s something deep down, in her 16 year old self way down there, that wants to keep him here. maybe not consciously, but she still holds onto the silly fantasy that maybe he actually can help her one day. but i think she knows that time has already long passed and now he’s just hanging around like a useless ghost repeating the motions from way back when. she can still wish he did something though.

[skaterfc]

Ooo what’s Niki up to in your rewrite? Does she still join the syndicate?

How perfect to follow the Jack Manifold question!! :D

Yes, she still joins the Syndicate, and the Syndicate even has a bigger cast of members this time around! But eventually, in the epilogue of the story basically, she sort of retires from the syndicate and goes to live in Snowchester.

At first, in her Team Rocket mindset and her post-doomday mental heath crisis, joining the syndicate is great for her mental health. Having people to rely on and that listen to her is really important to her and really helps this first stage of her character growth! She is still working on her underground city underneath Kinoko Kingdom with the hopes that one day all her friends will come down to live there with her. (i especially wanna say that this is totally a metaphor, at least in my version, for her wishing that people could be there with her in her bad mental state she could have people to relate to. But as a consequence would have the other people's mental health suffering as well. the best thing for her would be to leave the underground, but she couldn't see herself doing that, leaving to live with the syndicate. After all, when you are in the depths of depression and mental health crisis, you can't see a world where you are ever out of it).

Niki DOES NOT help to free Dream from prison. In fact the syndicate has no involvement with Dream's prison breakout, thats all Punz and Enderwalk!Ranboo. Then once dream does break out, as I said in the last post, he gets up to some SHIT and the server decides to form a rebellion to strike back at him!

When the syndicate allies with the Rebellion to take down dream, she moves into the underground area the rebellion is stationed out of. A side effect of this being that now she is constantly around the people that she sort of hates and used to be her best friends back in L'manburg. But this tight nit community, being around these people constantly, actually is the next big step to her healing arc. Where she is reminded that what she was searching for all this time was the community and sense of belonging that L'manburg gave her. In fact, this experience of her reconnecting with Tommy, Tubbo, Fundy, Eret, and even cWilbur, encourages her to show some of the newer members who never got to see Golden-Age L'manburg what it was really like. This changes their perspectives becuase they always thought it was either like new L'manburg or worse and they never understood why these guys had so much devotion to it. But now they do! She also starts up a little bakery shop in this underground area and works to expand and decorate it to make it feel more home-y.

She's then later involved in 2 major battles against dream, as well as the final fight! And like I said, after the whole thing is said and done, She goes to live in snowchester with Tubbo, Jack and Puffy. (oh yeah, she's still dating puffy! though they prolly had some rocky moments with everything going on) To help once again foster that sense of community and be around people that care about her. She doesn't quit being apart of the syndicate though.

Thank you so much for the question!! Love getting to put my character knowledge to the works! If you think there is anything aggressively ooc in here, let me know! the rewrite is not technically finished yet and I want to make sure everything is sound as can be!

[aintgonnatakethis]

You've got me wondering about Telford on this beautiful morning. Can I request an infodump on this sumbitch? Bonus points for info that came from your headcanon.

Oh, Jamie, you don't know what you've done... Put beneath a cut because Telford's life story got kinda long 😂 Also will use this as an opportunity to answer the "OC" facts tag from @the-golden-comet (x) Let's take a look at my favourite little fucker: Colonel David Telford!

He was adopted by a high-middle class white couple who wanted the pats on the back they'd get for giving a child of colour a "second chance", but then were severely disappointed when that brown baby grew up to be a brown man... So he grew up *surrounded* by white people, suffering everything from micro-aggressions to full on racism. Below is an excerpt from i am a prisoner just like you, bits of my Vamp AU series I wanted to tell from Telford's POV. This particular bit is a flashback to when he was 18.

Young let out a surprised laugh, slapping Telford good-naturedly on the back. “Fair’s fair.” He had a nice smile, Telford thought, wide and honest. He looked away quickly; there couldn't be any of that shit here. He'd decided that long ago - indulge during high school while continuing to maintain a good upstanding image because that was just what kids did, but he wasn't a kid anymore. The consequences for getting caught here - or even someone getting a whiff of the wrong idea about him - were far more serious than the potential of getting bagged driving out into the desert with another boy. Telford had planned out every excuse and story that could possibly be required. We were just going out here to smoke, sir. No, not marijuana, I can't afford to put that stuff into my body. I'm starting line. I've got a future.

We were planning to bring our girls but they bailed on us. If we had to go home early our parents would know we got ditched. So we came out here to shoot the shit. No, sir, no alcohol. You can check the vehicle. Yes, sir, it's registered to me. It was present for making starting line. I've got a future. We're doing a science project on the state of the plants out here, how they've adapted to the radiation in the soil. No, sir, absolutely no digging. Here, look, this is our collection kit. We have gloves and baggies and permission from our science teacher. His name's Mr. Monroe. No, sir, I'm not really interested in science, but if I want to get into a good college I need the grades. I'm starting line. I've got a future. I've got a future. In your world. Calling you sir. I've got a future. Performing for your amusement. I've got a future. I'm not like those other brown kids, sir. I'm one of the good ones. I'm starting line. I've got a future.

This is the shit I want to see fandom tackle more though I for sure realise how delicately it has to be handled. He's had a really rough time of it and the military doesn't exactly foster a welcoming non-racist environment so I think we should talk about those experiences more. (Fuck that "I know what makes me special" line.)

I couldn't leave Telford completely alone during his childhood so I gave him an Uncle who's a good guy and cares about Telford and wants what's best for him. He was military himself and a recipient of a Purple Heart. He helped Telford's application to join the Air Force Academy straight out of high school. For them to take someone who hasn't already got a college degree you need to tick all the boxes, and Telford is nothing if not stubborn and committed.

He'll do anything to achieve the goals he's set for himself, things others will find downright distasteful and judge him negatively for, but he's a very ends-justify-the-means type of character. If he completes his objective then it doesn't matter what he had to do or who he had to hurt or what he had to give up; it was worth it. He gets constantly frustrated by the people around him being unwilling or unable to go to the same lengths and one of the main reasons he's remained Young's friend for over two decades through all of the bullshit Young pulls is that when the chips are down, Young is also capable of doing terrible things in order to succeed.

They meet in the Air Force Academy (this specific bit isn't mine - one of Telford or Young's actors mentioned it in passing in an interview) and were assigned as 'battle buddies' during Basic which is a real life thing where you don't let the other person out of your sight - drills, meals, bathroom breaks, everything - as a training exercise to teach new recruits to always be aware of where their allies are, in preparation for firefights where everything's moving at 100mph.

Young figures Telford doesn't get along with his parents so invites him home with him for the holidays and Young's family - who are very normal and well-adjusted (no sarcasm) - pretty much adopts him, giving him the first safe place away from the military he's known since his Uncle. I wrote a short story about the first time Telford goes there called Discretion, which turned out a lot gayer than I originally intended but Telford is super gay so I guess it worked out. 🤷‍♂️ (Side note: I like writing characters with different sexualities as a writing exercise - getting them to the point where no matter how different they are they're all still in character. I've written Telford as gay - accepting of himself and in denial - straight, bi, asexual, and aromantic.)

Two snippets from my Vamp AU, both from Young's POV on the topic of Telford's parents.

down here they call us animals - Chapter 10: 1x15 Lost

The man's gaze went flat and cold so quickly it was like having the ground ripped from beneath Young's feet. He'd seen that look on his friend's face before, at his Uncle's funeral when he'd been forced by social decorum to approach his parents. Young had stuck resolutely to the man's side, unsure of what was going on but knowing he didn't like the ugly twist on Telford's parent's faces. Maybe they'd known their son liked men, it suddenly occurred to him. It took the wind out of his sails, the fact that he was threatening to out his best friend crashing down on him. Someone had done that to Camile, he remembered. There was no excuse for it.

your eyes, black like an animal - Chapter 6: 2x06 Trial And Error

Young nodded, thinking of the disgusted edge in David's parent's eyes when he'd met them at his friend's Uncle's funeral, how the father had tried to direct Young away from David's side with his eyes. They'd wanted to be alone with their son, but even Young could tell there was something not quite right with these people, so he had played dumb and bet that they wouldn't go so far as to verbalise their wish. He'd been right and he and David hadn't gone to the wake, preferring to stake out a bar with his Uncle's war buddies. A proper and right celebration he would have been proud of, one of the old men had said, raising his glass, clearly suggesting whatever the parents were getting up to right about now was the opposite. If David had wanted to talk about it he would have raised the subject and Young knew better than to press. Some things were best left buried.

I don't know whether they know he's gay or just don't like him for the previously discussed racial reasons, but a line I've got in my notes is his father saying the military was the best place he could have ended up, and he does not mean it positively.

Due in no small part to his childhood Telford has a hard time bonding with people. Young got in there at just the right time (Telford was 18 and Young was 22) plus they were basically forced to spend time together at the start. Young helped him with the team building exercises and Telford helped Young with the maths they both needed to learn in order to be pilots. (Something I think both the show and fandom overlook is that to be a pilot in the Air Force you need a lot of mathematical knowledge.) Telford's minor at the Academy was languages; it's his belief that every soldier should speak the language of wherever they're stationed, purely for the practical purpose of people will say just about anything around you if they think you can't understand them. He can speak, read, and understand English, Spanish, German, Russian, Arabic, Goa'uld, and Ancient.

He's gay and aromantic and spent a lot of his time at the SGC getting in the good graces of the geeks who work there as he knows they're the future of the programme. He's popular with them because a lot of the military don't respect the geeks no matter what and Telford treats them with respect unless they do something stupid. As there are scientists rotating in and out from Area 51 all the time the labs are also a good place to find people to have sex with, who he's very clear with about not wanting a relationship. I don't think he'd risk pursuing men sadly, though he would be publicly sleeping with women anyway so no one gets any funny ideas about him. And he enjoys the sexual release well enough so it's not a 100% depressing scenario.

When he imagines being in a relationship he feels ill. The expectation of marriage, two kids and a dog with a white picket fence? Nah, no American Dream™ for him, thank you very much. He likes having his own private space to come home to, and Young is the only person he'll allow within his bubble. Sometimes Young's friends are permitted by proxy, but for the most part he's an extremely private person.

He certainly hasn't escaped the toxic masculinity trap either. Whenever I have him having sex with Rush there's always an aspect of Telford believing he now in some form owns the man. That ties into him viewing both himself and everyone else as primarily commodities, a position both he and Rush are used to and therefore are very comfortable occupying. His body is a tool and he recognises the same viewpoint in Rush, which is why he's drawn to him so strongly. He certainly still respects him - there's a point in the series where something bad happens and people are trying to tell him no one could have predicted it and he's instantly like: "You saying Rush didn't see it coming?" I don't think viewing someone as a person and viewing them as a commodity are mutually exclusive.

[another-corpo-rat]

Hello… do you have any head canons for Hansen to share? I was disappointed to only have one conversation with him, and you seem like a good person to ask. >:3

Me? Having ideas about the warlord? Nooo never-

Anyways here’s a list of Thoughts that I hope are vaguely coherent, though warning: they’re a tad all over the place

He was raised by his granny on his father’s side. She was actually from Serbia, and had met his grandfather when he spent some time there then moved back to America with him. His grandfather was dead before he was born, and his mother’s parents weren’t present in his life. Grandma Hansen practically raised little Kurt, his parents were career-oriented – his father a colonel and his mother held some minor political role – so their time for him was limited.

She fostered his love for her home country as she shared stories of her own childhood while tucking him in to bed, or when he was still small enough to sit on her knee. One evening she told him a story of the bauk, and boy did that plant a mild fear of the dark him. He had to sleep with a nightlight for a few weeks after.  

His granny owned a dog when he was growing up, dear ol’ Bowie. She was a big loveable mutt who was already quite old when Kurt was born. She’d sleep under his crib when he was a baby, and would walk shakily alongside him as he was taking his first steps. Almost every photo of baby Kurt has Bowie in it, up until he was four years old and she passed.

He got to choose their next pet dog when he was eight, it was a mean looking bastard he named Titan. The Barghest symbol is based on him.

His gran died just before he got promoted to colonel. It broke his heart that she didn’t get to see it, because she was so excited to see him get the recognition he deserved. He took her ashes back to Serbia, promised that he’d visit when he could. He hasn’t been able to visit for a while.

His dad’s dead by the time Barghest is finding its feet, his mother gets removed from her position while Myers is simultaneously airing her very public condemning of her son’s actions. Nothing’s heard from her since. She’s probably dead too tbh.

Kurt’s lactose intolerant. He had to learn to like his coffee black, the cramps just weren’t worth it. (weakling)

Damn though can this man handle his drink. He can hold eye contact and not make a face as he downs vodka straight from the bottle. His men get a good laugh when he blames them and their shit for it. Tbh he’s only partially joking

Kurt when he hears the bullshit Yuri tries to pull:

His right arm is a recent cybernetic only gotten in the past year or two, meanwhile his left was standard militech-issued at the time he was serving. He suffered a relatively minor injury during training and took the opportunity to get an upgrade.

He’s rather wary of netrunners, esp more combat oriented ones. While he appreciates their effectiveness and utility, he always has an edge of caution around them and takes particular care to keep them either charmed or afraid, whatever keeps them from potentially acting against him.

During Operation: Midnight Storm, there was always this quiet wariness to Hansen and his men when an Arasaka AV would fly close to their position. Each time they waited in absolute silence, dreading to hear ‘Code: A.S’ over the comms Some of the younger, braver, stupid men were biting at the bit for it, Hansen wasn’t keen to be added to Arasaka’s graveyard by Smasher.

He’s a light sleeper. He doesn’t particularly struggle in getting to sleep, it’s just that a pin dropping can wake him

He’s quite Spartan in regards to his personal possessions – his room lacks a lot of personal touch, there’s really nothing that signifies it as Kurt’s beyond the small collection of knives and guns on display. If anything it could be mistaken as another storage room. Even the bed, while fucking massive, isn’t comfortable beyond measure, the mattress is stiff and the pillows memory foam.

He listens to the same music on repeat and has done for the past few years. I’m inflicting my personal tastes on him and saying his favs includes Biffy Clyro (x), Iron Maiden (x), and Black Sabbath (x)

Even though he could get actual real meat he still prefers the taste of synth-beef, it’s what he grew up knowing. Probably eats more pot noodles than he should, but he’s a busy man and they’re quick and filling

Because I think it’s funny and would rile Johnny up something fierce: Kurt…appreciates Silverhand’s actions back in ’23. He’s well aware Silverhand got the nuke from Militech and is a massive fucking hypocrite but hey, isn’t everyone? He wouldn’t be where he is now if Johnny didn’t get that ball a-rolling.

Barghest does have a militant structure, a very clear hierarchy of who’s in charge of who, but it’s a lot more casual? In how they speak with each other. Even with Kurt. He makes them see him as a person and not this mighty figurehead. He jokes around with recruits, might ruffle one’s hair in passing after knocking the shit outta them and giving them pointers on their footing. It’s partially real affection for the people under his command, and another part is simple manipulation – he wants to give them something real to tether their loyalty to, wants them to see him as a man, a terrifying, brutal bastard at times but nonetheless a man, and not the untouchable better-than-you titan the higher-ups at the NUSA always painted themselves as.

Speaking of brutality – it’s something I feel like the game didn’t really show of his. Even V seems quite flippant towards his threat of sending them back in body bags – Hansen’s hands were tied that particular night as he didn’t want to cause a scene in front of his guests. Bad for PR and all that. But the worst of his punishments make the corps look tame. He doesn’t immediately execute; he tortures until there’s nothing left of the person from fingernails to spirit. And then their bodies are just tossed in the disposal units. Though, public executions on his order aren’t all that uncommon either.

Not so much a headcanon as a thought: I genuinely don’t know what would have happened to Songbird had Kurt’s plans gone perfect. Maybe he might’ve let her fly away, let the little bird go on to the stars, keep his word and all that. But it’d be just as easy to make her disappear; she’s dangerous, a living weapon that’s he’s already got his use out of. A loose end who knows too much. I wouldn’t be surprised if the freedom he’d have given her was a bullet to the brain.

Knife play! Blood kink! Choking kink!! He also likes pulling hair a lot

He gets put on the back foot quite quickly if his partner takes charge, he’s used to being expected to take on that role, but he recovers and indulges quick enough

He runs hot, just an absolute radiator of a man who’d probably be great to cuddle with if NC wasn’t in a fucking desert.

He’s distressingly touch-starved and would probably sink into a proper hug like a warm bath.

While he is very much alive and well in Victoria’s canon, I do like to think that following his death certain information was transferred to NetWatch pertaining to Songbird and what Myers had her do beyond the Blackwall. Fucking her over even when he’s gone, a last little fuck you as he still somehow manages to get the last laugh.

[mmmichyyy]

a.u.gust 2023 - day 4: teacher(s)

1.5k words of shop teacher!mickey & school nurse!ian @gallavichthings 🖤 posted on ao3 too!

Faculty meetings are–in Mickey’s opinion–the bane of his entire existence. Completely unnecessary, redundant, a total bore. Just send it in an email for god’s sake. Especially when the meetings are scheduled at the ungodly hour of eight on Monday mornings, an entire half an hour before he usually arrives at school. Well, twenty-nine minutes, to be exact - if the first class starts at eight-thirty and it takes him a minute to rush from the parking lot to the shop classroom, then he’ll show up right as the bell rings, not a minute more.

Except the new bright-eyed and bushy-tailed principal went to some new-age educational conference over the summer and came back brimming with ideas of bonding and connecting amongst faculty members. How important it was to foster a community and create an open forum and a safe space for communication–her words, not Mickey’s. 

As if any of the underpaid teachers give a flying fuck about any of that. None of them would've gone to the first meeting and continued to attend week after week without the bribe of free bagels and the not-so-subtle suggestion of possibly taking away the one good vending machine from the teacher’s lounge. The threat of losing easily accessible corn nuts and milk duds really was the reason why every person working at this underfunded Southside high school had to suffer through thirty minutes of mandatory torture every week. 

Mickey worked there for two years and never laid eyes on half the staff at the school or knew anyone’s name until these meetings. He stays in the shop classroom all day, makes sure none of the students drill a hole through their hand or cut themselves on a hacksaw, then goes home. But now, everyone from the basketball coach to the art teacher to even the goddamn janitor had to attend and endure the principal babbling about upcoming school events and ways to improve the school–like time and resources aren’t already limited as it is. 

What a colossal waste of time, Mickey grumbles to himself, as he strolls through the main doors of the school after smashing snooze multiple times on his alarm clock and begrudgingly getting his ass out of bed. 

At least his on-the-fritz coffee machine decided to work today, or else he may be prone to commit murder without caffeine this early in his system. 

But to Mickey’s luck, he doesn’t get two steps into the foyer before slipping on an invisible wet patch on the linoleum floor, crashing forward into what his mind registers for a split-second as a moving wall, which he practically bounces off of, if it's even possible to bounce off a solid surface. The impact causes him to stumble backwards and nearly collide against the glass trophy display case. 

“Fu– watch where you’re going!” 

“Oh shit, are you okay??” 

Mickey rolls his shoulders with a groan. Just as he’s about to unleash hell, he looks up to a pair of worried green eyes staring right at him. Turns out the walls aren’t out to get him - not this time at least - it’s a person. Not just any person, a man who is built like a fucking brick barricade with a firm taut body and fierce red hair that nearly causes Mickey’s jaw to drop in surprise.

“Uh…” Words. What are words? He didn’t hit his head, did he? Why can’t his mind form coherent thoughts?

Unaware of Mickey’s temporary brain daze, the redhead continues to ramble in an apologetic voice, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been blocking the entrance, it’s my first day and I’m a bit lost–”

“It’s fine,” Mickey mumbles, cutting the guy off. Not that he cares if he’s late to the faculty meeting, but he needs to not be here right now. But before he can make a quick exit–

“Do you know where the teacher’s lounge is?” 

Huh. A new teacher. With a body like that? Probably another meathead coach, Mickey thinks. To save his ego from continuing to make a fool of himself, Mickey wordlessly nods towards the east hallway, silently signalling the man to follow him. The man does, a bit too enthusiastically, much to Mickey’s chagrin.

Mickey hopes Clifford the Big Red Dog isn’t a talker. The teacher’s lounge is at the end of the hall around the corner and there’s only so much conversation Mickey can handle early in the morning. Especially after sustaining a possible phantom head injury. Especially after almost falling flat on his face in front of someone who looks like that.

But you know what they say about hope - it breeds eternal misery.

“Never thought I’d be back at high school,” the man chuckles. “But I saw the job posting online and thought, what the hell? Might be fun.”

Fun is definitely not the word Mickey would use to describe working at a high school. The very high school he dropped out from, actually. Life has a twisted sense of humour sometimes, but he’s made his peace with his current reality a long time ago.

“Are you a teacher here?” the man presses on.

Mickey grunts as a response. Quickens his pace, but the man doesn’t take the hint.

“What do you teach?” 

Only a few steps left... 

“Shop class.”

“Oh cool! I’m the new–” 

“There you are, Mr. Milkovich.” Ms. Tinsley, the principal, peeks her head out of the door to the teacher’s lounge. Looks behind Mickey and beams. “And Mr. Gallagher! I’m glad you’re here, I was starting to worry you might’ve gotten lost.”

Gallagher? Mickey furrows his brows. The name sounds vaguely familiar, but then again - half the Irish population in Chicago probably has the same last name. 

“I was, but then I bumped into Mr. Milkovich here and he led the way.” Gallagher flashes Mickey a grin, and Mickey tries to ignore the somersault flip inside his chest. “Hope I’m not too late.”

Ms. Tinsley shakes her head. “You’re just in time, I was just about to start the meeting.” She turns to Mickey. “Mr. Gallagher here is replacing Mrs. Farris since she’s gone into early retirement. Fell down the stairs and broke her hip, the poor thing. ” 

Retirement? Mickey doesn’t remember seeing any of the sports coaches being geriatric enough to retire. Or maybe he’s not paying enough attention to the stupid faculty meetings.

Seeing the confusion on his face, Ms. Tinsley adds, “Mrs. Farris, the school nurse.” 

A lightbulb clicks in Mickey’s head. Must’ve been the grouchy old woman with the Q-tip head and a permanent scowl on her face he used to see roaming the halls. He just assumed it was someone’s grandma who had gotten loose from the senior home and got her rocks off yelling at anyone in her way. Did the old bat fall down the stairs or was she pushed? The latter seems more plausible.

“Anyway,” Ms. Tinsley continues, “Mr. Gallagher here will be taking over as the new school nurse. I might get him to teach a couple health classes too, god knows these crazy kids need proper sex health education!” Both she and Gallagher laugh while Mickey cringes.

“I’d be glad to,” Gallagher replies with a smile. Glances at Mickey out of the corner of his eye. “Sex education is very important.”

No. Not today. Nope. Mickey slips past the principal through the door and quickly plops down on his usual seat in the back corner, silently praying the heat he feels under his skin isn’t reflective of how red his cheeks are. What the hell has gotten into him? 

And because the universe is fucking with him, the only empty seat left is directly beside him. Mickey stares straight ahead and pointedly avoids Gallagher’s gaze as the principal starts the meeting.

“First thing on the agenda: the school bake sale! Who wants to volunteer?”

“Hey,” Gallagher whispers in a low voice, so only Mickey can hear him above the surrounding chatter, “my first name’s Ian by the way.” Leans in close, hot breath fanning Mickey’s ear, sending a shiver down Mickey’s spine. “Maybe you can show me around sometime?”

Mickey should ignore him. Ian. Pretend to be fascinated by fundraisers or pep rallies or whatever the fuck Ms. Tinsley is droning on about. Definitely not focus on the hopeful tone in his voice. Tell Ian to fuck off and leave him alone, like everyone else in the school has learned to do.

But maybe Mickey woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Or the right one? Or he’s in an alternate reality? Or maybe someone drugged his coffee this morning? 

Or maybe it’s his lucky day?

Because against his better judgement, Mickey angles his head to the side. Pretends to be nonchalant and shrugs in agreement. Tries to bite down his own smile from seeing the way Ian’s face entirely lights up, all eager and warm and full of light.

Maybe eternal misery isn’t the only outcome to spring from hope.

[hotpinkstaples]

probably the thing i dislike most about comicsharing these days is how insanely disingenuous ppl are about the books they’re sharing. specifically with kon. he was incredibly overexposed during his initial run, and pretty damn popular. his writing relayed the zeitgeist of the 90s with barely any filter, despite being comics code authority approved. it’s ok to admit that contextually speaking, his run (meaning ALL his books from 1993 - 2002) wasn’t THAT crazy compared to others aka miss hal’s menty b and superman literally dying and coming back and suffering ENDLESSLY until the clois marriage healed his heart and psyche. you don’t have to treat his initial writing like it needs to be heat-treated prior to reading.

the fact that ‘fans’ love harping on his early writing like its some kinda radioactive green rock is actually insane! that is LITERALLY the concept work that lasted TEN YEARS across MULTIPLE writers and books. kesel wasn’t the only one clowning. editorial marched to his tune even after superboy 1994’s hands changed. kon dont got a hundred years of history. he’s only got thirty, and a third of that was entirely his creator’s, and you know what? It was GREAT! it was raw and heartbreaking and funny and indicative of how terribly neglectful parents were and how easy it was for kids to get caught up in adult bullshit without being adults. im tired of ppl talking like it’s a diseased run ‘not up for the current times.” it is ABSOLUTELY of the current times.

it was about a partyboy who never got to party for the sake of it, and about CSA without kon knowing he was a victim and survivor of CSA. it was about ppl in positions of authority and power leaving kon to his business bc kon wasn’t theirs to take in, and no one in any position of influence thought to question why a grown ass woman was dating him PUBLICLY. they laughed! kyle and clark and dubbilex and makoa, they did not care! bc kon was supposed to be a way for neglected kids to read about a character who’s making his own way since he’s been emotionally starved of love and affection. he makes his own family, even tho those ppl don’t really SEE him as family! he thinks of a clone handler as his father even tho that handler does the bare minimum! he thinks his agent’s daughter is his sister even tho she’s been lusting and pining after him since the start! he didn’t understand boundaries, didn’t draw them, and didn’t understand that his emulating the people around him was NOT normal!

he’s the one kid in school who thought it was ok for sixteen year olds to attend college parties and sleep with older girls cuz he got his growth spurt early and looks like an adult, even tho he’s not! he’s the kid you grew up with that didn’t have parents, but had random guardians who did a subpar job at taking care of him bc they couldn’t put him in foster care. he was the guy you knew growing up who said the most off-color shit and did the most off-color shit bc he had anger issues and deep-seated resentment and shit tons of sexual trauma and NO friends his age that didn’t wanna fuck him.

kon was THE exploited teen star. his story can STILL resonate today if you stop treating his early writing as icky and focus on the actual fucking themes and purpose of the story. his first real gay friend wasn’t ray, it was hero. he joined yj with a heavy heart. his first love was one of the ppl who destroyed his life the most, and yet he loved tana! knockout gave him sexual trauma so deep, he was still acting out in ttv03. his life’s lack of parental love is WHY the kents taking him in is so moving and important. no, clark not taking him in from the start was not on clark bc KON IS NOT HIS RESPONSIBILITY. kon was the government’s responsibility, and the government did what it does to all kids who don’t have loving parents and guardians - left him to fend for himself.

kon’s initial run isn’t a 90’s shitshow. it’s a legitimately sad tale with multiple moving parts that highlight how much legacy can both destroy and make a person’s spirit. stop treating that shit with kidgloves. commit to the fucking bit. he was never anyone’s prop, and it’s sad how some of y’all act like his only heartbreak is tim getting away with bernard. i don’t know how to tell you this, but tim’s timkonnie feels were wholly a personal problem. focus on the kon. i PROMISE you, you’ll free yourself from chuck dixon’s boogers and geoff’s grimdark teen soap that paled in comparison to the actual teen soap of the era, smallville.

[2dmenenthusiast]

Last Night on Earth Pt. 9

(Ethan Winters x Gn!Reader)

Woweewowwowwow Im so sorry it's been a million years since I posted! But I am back and I hope you like this chapter! Only one more after this and then I'm gonna start on the sequel!

Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Warnings/other info: Gore, character death (don't worry), description of bones breaking and a lot of other gross stuff

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9 Final

In all the years you’ve been alive, you think you’ve imagined your death about six dozen times. From the days you’ve been in foster care, enlisted in the army, and then up until now, it’s always been a topic that lingered in the back of your brain. Whether it be by your own hand, or some freak accident. You think you’ve doubled those thoughts in the past twenty-four hours alone.

“Chris.”

“Would you just let me check?”

“I’m fine!”

One hand was placed on your shoulder while the other turned your head from side to side, examining the large gash along your cheek from when your mask shattered.

“We almost got blown up, and you're worried about a cut on my face?”

“Your head slammed into a pile of rocks. I’m making sure you’re responsive.”

He held up his finger and moved it in and out of your vision, and you slapped his hand away.

“I’m fine. If I start throwing up then you’ll know something’s wrong.”

You heard Chris sigh behind you as you continued forward, muttering “stubborn” under his breath. Back in the central area of the cavern, you searched through the many pockets on your vest to search for a key you picked up somewhere along the way. You were made aware that there was a room behind the tunneling shield, and it was extremely likely that was the place Lucas was. You couldn’t imagine he had anywhere else to go since you’ve scoured almost every nook and cranny of this cave. And he didn’t leave, either. No, he had no intention of running away when the both of you were still alive. He was waiting for you, and you were ready.

“Where the fuck—”

“Did you lose it?”

“No!” 

There was a prolonged silence, the only sound being velcro loudly separating as you frantically searched for the key. Chris sighed loudly, and you let out an “Aha!” whilst you pulled out the small piece of metal and shoved it in his face.

“I do not lose things,” you said, placing the key above the glowing red nose of the clown.

“Uh huh.”

“I put things down in places which later elude me.”

“Oh, jesus christ.”

As soon as you turned the key, the shield began moving forward at a snail's pace, rocks crumbling around it. You briefly wondered if the cave was going to collapse around you. As soon as it stopped, you turned to Chris, and with a dramatic roll of your wrist, you gestured to the stairs leading up to the contraption.

“Age before beauty.”  

You imagined he rolled his eyes at you before moving on ahead without any complaints. You followed him up the rusted, yellow steps, the metal clanging under your footfalls. With Every step, your heart sank deeper into your stomach. You were anxious for all of this to be over, the concept hardly imaginable. Evie was dead, the root of all your problems, but once Lucas was gone, you’d finally be done. There would be no more of the endless torment you had to suffer, no more of your brother’s sick smile beaming down at you as he hurt and tortured you. God, a life without him in it. How fucking peaceful would that be?

The only problem was, you had absolutely no idea of where you would go or what you would do after this was all said and done for. Most of your life has been spent fighting, and the idea of living a peaceful, stress free life almost made you cringe. It was a nice thought; working a nine to five job, coming home to silence, and curling up on the couch with a good book and a drink. It wasn’t you, though. You think you’d go insane if it was.

Would you enlist again? Shit, you don’t even know if they’d let you. You don’t think you could pass a psych eval if you tried. You could always put your mechanic skills to use, your dad certainly taught you plenty. Thinking about it all now, it was giving you a headache.

When you stepped into the tunneling shield, it was completely dark, and you wish your headgear hadn’t been ruined since night vision would certainly come in handy right about now. You’d have to trust Chris to be your eyes for the time being. 

“Oh!” The sound of Lucas’s sudden voice almost made you jump. “You’re both still with us, I see. Very impressive, my friends! Let’s just see how impressive y’all really are.”

The light suddenly flickered on, and you were met with molded creatures coming at you from every direction. You covered Chris’s six while he covered yours, backs pressed together as you frantically shot at the monsters charging at you. Every time you killed one, another would appear in its place. But, they went down surprisingly easy, almost as if they were getting weaker as time went on. Maybe it was because it was Lucas creating them, rather than Eveline.

“Y’all are slowing down. Almost had you that time.” You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Just how much more of this do you think you can take?”

As soon as he was finished speaking, a couple bigger guys came stumbling through the area, smashing objects in their path, and you quickly recognized them as the same type that you and Ethan fought in the barn.

“Be careful, they spit!” you warned.

Right when you said that, a spew of vomit came at you, and you rolled out of its path. This stuff burned like acid, and you weren’t intending on reliving the painful experience. But then you remembered how you killed the one you faced last time, and quickly felt in your pants pocket.

“Chris! Get out of there!”

He watched you pull the pin with your teeth, and threw his body behind cover as you chucked the grenade between the two large monsters. Their bodies exploded like gore filled balloons, and you swallowed back the bile in your throat.

“You okay?”

Chris stood up, seemingly all right, and nodded. That was a relief.

The lights turned off, and you heard Lucas in your ear piece.

“Okay, okay! No more, alright? I don’t have nothing left.”

“That’s too bad. Now tell us where you are so we can fucking end this!” you seethed.

“Listen! I know I’ve done terrible things. Horrible things. I killed your men. I tortured them. Tortured my siblings too. And you know what? I enjoyed every second! Just like I’m gonna enjoy watching you burn!”

Red lights began pulsing and an alarm sounded, a robotic female voice informing you of the time before detonation.

“Oh, I’m really scared now!” you muttered sarcastically.

“You should be! Sounds like time’s running out! Tick tock, y’all. Tick. Tock.”

You spotted a grate in the floor, and used as much strength as you could to pull it up. It wouldn’t even budge an inch

“If you’re gonna kill us, just kill us. But for the love of god, shut the fuck up!” Chris grieved.

You chuckled to yourself and went to the next grate, wrapping your fingers firmly around the bars and pulling. When you heard the metal scrape a bit, you tugged harder.

“Come on.”

As the room began falling apart and flames licked at your feet, you finally pulled the grate up with a grunt and threw it to the side, jumping down after you urged Chris to go first. As soon as the cool cave floor met your hands and knees, a loud explosion sounded behind you, reflecting off the wet stone and heating your back like the sun. The Captain was by your side in seconds, helping you stand straight and checking you for injuries.

“You alright?”

You nodded, brushing him off. “Yeah. Let’s go before he gets away.”

Moving to step past him, you were immediately stopped in your tracks and pulled back by a firm hand on your arm. You sighed, twisting around to look at Chris.

“What?!”

Fingers gripped your jaw and turned your head to the side, the reflective shield of his helmet inching closer as he inspected you.

“Something on my face?” you asked. You were getting more frustrated by the second.

“More like lack of something.”

You shoved his hand away. “The hell are you talking about?”

You felt around your cheek, searching for what he meant, and your eyes widened. Shit. The cut on your face. It was gone.

“Chris, I—”

“How long has this been happening?”

You certainly felt on the spot now. “Uh, right before we fought Evie, I think. I, um… Well—”

“Spit it out.”

You sighed. “I technically died.”

He didn’t speak. You took that as your cue to explain.

“Well, from what Ethan told me, at least. I had this… dream. Or vision, or something. And the next thing I know, I’m waking up and all of my injuries are healed. I had a broken arm that I had reset earlier that night, and when I woke up, it was like nothing had happened to it. I know it’s strange but… I can’t explain it.”

He continued to remain silent, and it was making you nervous. You really wished you could see his face.

“Chris—”

“You need to get out of here.”

“... What?”

“Go. Go back the way we came and get the team to evac you.”

He turned away, and your lips parted in surprise. What the hell was he on about?! You followed him, not satisfied with the lack of explanation.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“You hid crucial information from me and revealed yourself to be a possible threat. You’re done with the mission.”

“A threat?!”

You stopped in your tracks, but he just kept moving forward, as if his words didn’t have any kind of effect on you. Like you were just gonna lay down and listen like an obedient dog.

“Hey! I’m fuckin’ talking to you, asshole!”

He paused, but still didn’t face you.

“The only threat I am to anyone is my shitstain brother! You think I’d hurt you? Hurt your team?”

When he spun around and got in your space with only a few long strides, it made you take a step back, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I think you don’t know what’s happening to you, and I think it’s a hazard to not only my safety, but your own. What if you turn into one of those things, huh? What if you mutate into a monster and I have to fucking kill you? Did you think about that?!”

God, you felt like you were being scolded by a teacher. Yeah, maybe you intentionally hid this from him because you knew he wouldn’t let you come. And you couldn’t risk that. You realized it was incredibly selfish, but in the moment, all semblance of safety went out the window when you realized you’d have the opportunity to hunt down Lucas. And Chris was doing a hell of a good job of making you feel guilty about it.

But, among all his ranting, a lightbulb went off above your head.

“Chris, shut up!”

He tilted his head. “Excuse me?”

Your hands came up to grip his shoulders, and you grinned.

“I got the vaccine. Remember? If the infection was that far along, I would’ve died as soon as I got it!”

You were happy about the news, but your emotions didn’t seem to be reciprocated. If anything, the information only seemed to make Chris more confused.

“Then how the hell is this possible? You must have some trace of the mutamycete in you. That’s the only way you could be regenerating so fast.”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. And we’re not gonna know without me being poked and prodded in a lab, which isn’t gonna happen until after we apprehend Lucas. So could we please get this show on the road?”

Chris sighed, pointing a finger at you in a manner of finality.

“No more secrets. Understood?”

You gave him a mock salute. “Loud and clear, Captain.”

“Call me Redfield, for christ’s sake.”

“Could just call you Christopher.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

You smiled, glad to see the man wasn’t always all seriousness. Clearly, under the hard exterior, he was a decent, normal guy.

Who could punch the head off a molded with barely any effort.

As you moved forward and through another door, the setting quickly changed from jagged cave walls to smooth brick. Your coms buzzed with the voice of Veronica, (Chris finally mentioned her name after you referred to her as “the lady with the pretty voice” too many times for his liking.) letting you know that Lucas sent out an email stating your deaths and the end of whatever deal he was involved in. You all surmised it was The Connections, but nothing was certain yet. What you were sure of, though, was that Lucas was a fucking idiot for thinking after all this time, he could kill you in such a shitty way.

Fire? Really? A beheading would’ve been way cooler.

It didn’t take long before the brick transitioned into smooth, painted stone, the cold atmosphere of the hallway you stepped into sending a shiver up your spine. Questions about what this place was and how it was built swirled in your mind. It was like an underground research facility, and the more you searched, you knew that’s exactly what it was. It was so clean it almost made you uncomfortable, and you could feel that something truly awful happened down here. You wouldn’t have such an eerie feeling in the pit of your stomach if something didn’t.

Wandering down the pristine hallway, you stepped into a lab with your gun raised and quickly noticed a couple high regen molded through the glass pane on the other side of the room. You carefully examined an abandoned piece of paper next to a bright computer, and noted that this was where Lucas did his research for The Connections. Searching through the device, you found a note he had written for himself, talking about how he killed all the researchers with the molded and had to hold in his laughs while he watched them die. The sick fuck. He also mentioned potential buyers of the E Series, and you pointed it out to Chris. He talked quietly into his earpiece while you took a shuddered breath.

Shit. How long has he been up to this?

When Chris led you into the contained room, you both swiftly took out the creatures, and noticed the trails and splatters of blood on the otherwise pristine padded walls. You didn’t know what kind of experiments they were doing here, and you didn’t want to know. The possibilities made you sick.

“He’s not in here. Let’s move.”

You held up a hand, wordlessly telling Chris to just wait a second, and picked up a photo next to a set of dolls. It was Mia holding Eveline’s hand. You felt your heart plummet.

“She’s been working with them…”

“Who?”

You spun around and thrusted the photo towards him.

“Mia! She— Fuck, I wanted to give her the bennefit of the doubt, but this? This is fucking sick!”

You dropped the photo and took a closer look at the dolls. They must’ve represented the two. You felt your skin crawl.

“They conditioned Evie to see Mia as a mother figure so she wouldn’t act out as long as she was with her. If Mia kept up with the charade, Eveline’s emotions would remain stable. Shit, and Ethan doesn’t even know! He doesn’t know his wife is a goddamn liar and working with terrorists!”

“Hey,” Chris placed a hand on your arm, trying to get you to come down from your quickly rising anger. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but we have to focus. I need you to keep your head on straight for me, alright?”

You gulped and nodded, taking a deep breath to do as he wanted you to. It was crazy to think that earlier you felt some semblance of empathy for the woman, when she was involved in all of this from the beginning. Maybe you didn’t have all of the information, but the current evidence was certainly painting a clear picture for you. And it wasn’t a very pretty one.

You brushed past the man without another word, jaw clenched and lips set in a frown. It was nice to have clarity about certain things, but if you were honest, you were fucking tired of discovering the new atrocities your brother and whoever these “Connection” assholes were committed. It seemed never-ending, like one or ten awful acts weren’t enough. You had stared evil in the face, taken the lives of dangerous terrorists. But nothing compared to the evil that resided in your brother. And you often wondered how he ended up this way. Because your parents were nothing but loving, and you couldn’t remember anything particularly bad happening to Lucas when you started living with them. So, the only conclusion you could make was that he was just born that way. And your parents, as loving and attentive as they were, never saw it. Or, they just pretended not to.

Moving down the corridor, your breath hitched when you spotted the back of Lucas’s grey hoodie on the other side of a glass window. He was hunched over a laptop, furiously typing as he didn’t seem to notice you yet. You experimentally pushed against the mechanical door to the room and met resistance.

“The power must be out. Try to find a switch or something, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Chris nodded and stepped into the next room branching off the hallway while you watched Lucas intently. You could safely make the assumption that he was emailing his business partners and wanting to part ways. You imagined that was easier said than done.

The power suddenly flickered, and Lucas’s head shot up when the lights in the room turned on. When he finally turned, it was like he saw a ghost. He stumbled back into the desk just as Chris came back into the hall, and with a smile, you pressed your middle finger to the glass.

“I got you now, fucker!”

He took off running in a split second, and you didn’t hesitate to go after him, slamming your shoulder into the door as Chris yelled your name. Your boots squeaked against the waxed floor, and Lucas wheeled a gurney in your path amidst his frantic escape. Using your momentum, your hand balanced on the gurney to help you clear the jump over it, maintaining your speed.

“Shit, shit!”

“You got nowhere to run, Lucas!”

He burst through the door at the end of the hallway, but as quickly as you followed him through it, he had disappeared. You raised your rifle, searching the vast room when Chris caught up to you.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I lost him somehow.”

It was then that his voice spoke through your ear piece.

“How the hell are y’all still alive? You should be dead!”

“We got your emails. We know you’re funneling info to someone.”

Lucas growled. “That’s none of your god-damned business, Chris! A lot of people wanna know about our little Evie. A lot of people.”

“She was a little girl, asshole,” you seethed.

“Do your friends, The Connections know about this? They don’t seem like the forgiving type.”

“That’s my business. You let me worry about them.”

“Won’t have to worry much when you’re dead, then.”

With a scream, Lucas appeared from the shadows like a bat out of hell, swinging a knife at Chris and tackling him to the ground. You ran up to his side and kicked your boot against his shoulder to knock him off, and as he went to raise himself up, Chris put a bullet in his leg while you put one right in his chest.

Of course, it was wishful thinking that that would be enough to kill him.

He writhed on the ground, muttering to himself. “I can’t— I don’t… No, I don’t believe it.”

You firmly placed your boot on his chest and aimed your gun in his face. “It’s over, Lucas. You’re finished.”

He struggled out a laugh. “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you.” You shouldn’t have been surprised, but you couldn’t help the gasp that left you when his features began morphing and his body started melting into black mold. Veronica mentioned something about the infection, but you were too distracted by the current horror show to pay attention.

“Oooh boy! So this is what it feels like.” His voice was deep. Distorted. “I’ve got somethin’ for you, now. You’re fuckin’ screwed!”

There was a firm hand on your arm pulling you back, and you watched as your brother’s body turned into a puddle of black ooze and began creeping up the wall.

“What in the seven shades of fuck…”

The goo settled on the ceiling before it began to produce yellow spores, forming a sac-like structure that began to pulse and leak a viscous, yellowish liquid. From the way you’ve seen your other family members transform, you quickly learned that no evolution from this virus was the same. And Lucas’s definitely seemed to be the most evolved out of all of them.

“So uh… any advice on how we should handle this?” you asked.

Chris reloaded his rifle, making sure the magazine was firmly locked into the gun. “Yeah. Fight like hell.”

Well, you could’ve guessed that.

The sac pulsed violently before splitting right down the middle as Lucas fell out of it. But, he wasn’t Lucas anymore. No, this thing was three times Chris’s size and had sharp points jutting out of its body. It had three morphed faces and pointed teeth. It was a fucking monster. So, yeah. Maybe it was the real Lucas.

“You had to come in here and mess everything up, didn’t you?!” he said.

He swung a long, deformed arm your way and you narrowly dodged it, the heavy mass on the end of it forming a crater where you once stood. His eyes were red and full of fury. But, they weren’t focused on Chris. They were focused on you.

Shitshitshitshitshit!

Chris yelled at you to run, but as soon as you turned to do so, Lucas leapt from his spot and landed right in your path, the ground shaking from the force. You had to strain your neck to look up at his face(s), and god, was it a gruesome sight. You took a slow step back, trying to distance yourself, but you were afraid any sudden movement would make him lash out.

As if you weren’t already trying to kill each other.

“You! Always gettin’ in the damn way of everything!” His claws pierced the cement floor digging up a hunk of rock and holding it over his head. “Folks should’ve sent you back where you came from!”

The rock was sent flying down at you, but another hard force rammed into your side and pushed you to the ground out of harm’s way. Still, Chris’s body slamming into yours nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“Fuck!”

“You okay?”

You nodded, pushing yourself off the ground as he stood up. You were more than okay, because now you were fucking pissed. Over ten years living with this asshole and his only motivation for hating you was petty jealousy? What a fucking crybaby.

Aiming your rifle, a stream of bullets pierced his thick head, and he turned to you with a scream.

“Come on, fucker! You wanna kill me so bad? Then fucking do it!”

He roared, the sound guttural and rough, and moved to swipe a large, clawed hand at you. As quickly as he lashed out, though, he brought his hand back up to his face before it could touch you, shielding it from Chris’s assault. You used the momentary distraction to aim at the glowing, orange mass on his chest, and noted how it caused him more pain. But then he was jumping away from you and screaming about his head, and his ribs and chest opened with a sickening crack to release spores, filling the room with contaminated air.

When he looked down at you, there was a deranged expression on his face. But, when he saw your maskless face and noticed you had no reaction to the spores, his expression dropped.

“What?! Impossible!”

You grinned, and just for kicks, took a deep breath of the air. You then beat your fist against your chest and held out your arms.

“Come on! Hurt me! You wanna see what happens?!”

Your taunting clearly had some effect, because he was charging at you in the next moment, hand closing around your middle and dangling you above the ground. Chris called out for you, and judging by the tremor in his voice, you knew he was scared for you. Maybe even more scared than yourself. But, you’ve stared death in the face, faced more terrifying foes that Lucas wished he was half as brilliant and despicable as. So what reason was there to be afraid?

When he slammed your body into the concrete, the air forced itself out of your lungs as your skull slammed back into the floor and rattled your brain. His grip was so tight he began to crush your ribs whilst blood gurgled in your throat, and Chris’s cries fell on deaf ears as Lucas flung you to the side.

You rolled across the ground and didn’t stop until you hit the wall. The sound of the captain’s rushing footsteps became louder as he came to your side and shielded you with his body, keeping his gun trained on Lucas. Your brother snarled and said something, but you couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in your ears. 

It fucking hurt like hell, searing pain shooting throughout your body as you lifted yourself onto your hands and knees. But as quick as the pain came, it began fading, leaving your insides warm and tingling. Your ribs cracked back into place, the pressure lessening on your lungs and allowing you to take a breath. Despite a mild headache, you felt perfectly fine. Like all you got was a small bump on the head. The ridiculousness of it all made you giggle.

The sound of gradually rising laughter caught their attention, taking a brief pause from killing each other to look at you. When you raised up on your feet, Chris took a step back as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. You should be dead. He watched Lucas crush you like you were a fucking beer can. Yet, here you were, standing on your feet with blood dripping down your face and laughing.

You licked the blood off your teeth and spat it on the floor.

“Is that the best you can do?”

You were rushing forward in an instant, faster than Chris could stop you, and slipped your knife out of its sheath. Lucas went to take another swing at you, but you dropped to your knees and slid between his legs, slicing your knife at his ankle. He cried out and collapsed onto one knee, and you quickly shot up on your feet to jump up on his shoulders.

“Chris!”

The man was alert, waiting for your instruction whilst you shoved your blade into one of Lucas’s eyes over and over again. He screamed, hand coming up to claw at your thigh, but you grit your teeth through the pain and didn’t let up, locking your legs around his neck.

“His chest! Shoot it!”

He didn’t waste any time, sending a barrage of bullets into Lucas’s glowing chest, the orange pustules spurting disgusting liquid onto the ground.

“No! NO!”

With a cry, you lodged your knife deep into his skull, the blade sinking in with a sickening squelch, before untangling your legs from his neck and kicking off his shoulders. You landed— albeit ungracefully— on your feet, and watched as Lucas writhed before collapsing on his back. His skin undulated and whatever disgusting substance he had flowing inside him bubbled to the surface. His ragged breaths were loud, and he almost sounded like he was in pain.

Good.

Your boots stomped against the ground and paused beside him, rifle aimed at his head with a snarl on your lips. His eyes shifted back and forth, and you saw no semblance of the boy you used to know behind them. All you saw was a fucking monster.

“Game over, asshole.”

The single shot that rang out was loud and echoed off the barren walls, his head exploding to viscera at your feet.

He was dead.

And you felt nothing.

You pictured this moment over a thousand times. You imagined there would be this massive weight lifted off your shoulders, and you could live your life knowing you and Zoe were finally safe. But you felt absolutely nothing.

Your gun clattered to the ground, and a rough cry clawed its way out of your lungs. You felt like you were suffocating, desperately clawing at the straps of your vest because god dammit get this fucking thing off of me!

Chris made his presence known, quietly reassuring you and helping you with your vest. The second it was loose, you tore it off your body and took a deep breath, back hunched with your hands on your knees.

“Fuck! Fuck.”

“Hey. He’s dead. You’re okay.”

Your breathing began to slow after a while, and you slowly straightened up to look at the man next to you. He had taken his mask off at some point, and you swore you almost forgot what he looked like. It was refreshing to see a friendly face, rather than the black reflective glass you had been forced to look at for the past however long.

But now, he looked less intimidating than when you first met him. His features were still well weathered and stern, but his eyes were… softer. The crease between his brows lessened just a small bit.

“I’m okay.”

He nodded, lips quirked up in a small smile. “You’re okay.”

“Chris!” Veronica yelled, and you swore you jumped at least three feet in the air.

“Jesus fucking christ!”

“The data transfer’s almost complete!”

You both rushed over to the computer, the progress bar on the monitor almost full.

“How do I stop it?”

“You need to find a way to shut down the server. There may be some transformer relays you can—”

Anything else she wanted to say was cut off when Chris shot at the transformers right next to the monitor, effectively stopping the email from sending.

“Well, that was effective,” you said.

“Yeah. Gonna be some pissed off computer techs here, but—”

“Whatever. What’s the Sitrep?”

“The facility is clear. Even the newer breeds have been neutralized.”

Chris smiled, and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Then we’re getting outta here.”

You returned the gesture, but gasped when you remembered something.

“My sister! Veronica, is she—?”

“She got life flighted to a secure facility where she’s being taken care of, along with Ethan and Mia. Your uncle is with her.”

A puzzled expression took over your features. “Uncle Joe? Damn, can’t remember the last time I saw him.”

“Well then, let’s go. Have a big family reunion.”

You chuckled, following Chris out of the facility. “You gonna join us?”

“Oh, I wouldn��t miss it.”

[madlad-sadgal]

Goldenheart AU Pt. 3

I FOUND MY NOTEBOOK!

If you couldn't tell, I have found my notes about this AU and am finally able to make more parts (I could've just made new notes but for some reason my mind stopped everytime I tried to do that, so yeah). This part is gonna be about the band members' (Bal, Nimona and Meredith) backstories.

I highly suggest you check out these first if you wanna understand this, cuz it might not make sense: [Part 1] [Part 2]

(Edit: I'm an idiot and forgot to put the links when I first posted it)

Part 1 is just the base of the AU, and part 2 explains the Director/Livia's (the name I gave her) reasons to not want Goldenheart to be a thing.

Also, feel free to put any idea you might want to add on in the comments or the tags! I tend to look at them and take them in consideration. I don't tag you (some people don't want to be tagged), but if you want to be credited, just message me and I'll tag you if I use your idea!

Anyways, Enjoy!

Ballister Boldheart

Although he didn't live on the streets, Ballister wasn't part of a very fortunate family when it came to money.

Education was something his family struggled to provide to him, and food was thoroughly enjoyed as one never knew if the next meal would be provided or not

His parents worked in a quite successful company but were paid barely enough to survive despite the amount of work they did

Ballister also worked small jobs, such as helping the park keeper clean up garbage, helping the mailman deliver his letters and packages, and so on

When he properly met Ambrosius was when he was cleaning up the park

I say properly because everyone knows Ambrosius Goldenloin, future heir to the Goldenloin company, so when he walked up to a little boy with long dirty hair and worn down clothes, it was pretty safe to say he was wary of him at first

Slowly but surely, after they met up more and more, Ballister started to warm up to him until they became great friends

Ambrosius had tried many times to give money to his family or to buy him something, but Ballister always refused because 1) He wanted to prove he could help on his own, not thanks to some charity money, and 2) He really didn't need the rest of Ambrosius' friends to start rumors about how he was using him for money (It was pretty clear they didn't like him, mainly Todd Sureblade, the Sureblade's being long friends of the Goldenloins)

At some point in time, when they were about 9-10, Ambrosius had to leave cities because of something and the two boys wouldn't be able to talk anymore, so he left with heart wrenching goodbyes

After that, everything was basically shit

With Ambrosius no longer around, some of his old friends who had stayed behind picked on him (hiding the stuff he needed to work, throwing random objects at him when he was in the park, etc.)

His father succumbed to an illness he had been suffering from for a while which sent his mother spiraling into a depression and turning to drinks. She didn't abuse him, but behind her curtain of sadness, she basically forgot about him and it was up to Ballister to provide food and take care of the both of them

It didn't take long for child protection services to take note of this and, at 16, Ballister was placed in a foster home while his mother went to therapy and rehab

It was in the foster home that Ballister met Nimona (backstory later)

Nimona was younger than him by around ten years, a little six year old kid who looked harmless until you realized just how much chaos she could cause

Still, he enjoyed Nimona's company and his foster parents could tell, so they let the two kids be. It was a struggle to stop Nimona from causing chaos everytime they went to the market, but it was worth it if it meant they'd stay up until late into the night arguing about whether freestyle jazz was good or not, if pineapple belonged on pizza or not and what animals would be the best to have if you were running away from the police

Back to that last point, music (except freestyle jazz) was something that the two enjoyed greatly. Nimona enjoyed the drums, always getting a boost out of watching others go crazy on them. Ballister preferred bass (it may or may not be because he remembered Ambrosius had mentioned it being his favourite instrument once and he was desperately holding on to his old friend)

When Nimona turned 7, their parents' rights were terminated and Vivian and William (their foster parents) adopted them, and he was also adopted not long after because his mother's rights had been terminated as well, so now they were an actual little family

Ballister recieved a bass set on his seventeenth birthday, and Nimona received a drum set about three years later on her tenth birthday. By then, Ballister had gotten a lot better with handling and playing the bass and helped Nimona a little with her drums

When they were respectively 22 and 12, money became thin in their household and, having already been through it, Ballaiter didn't want to go through it again, so he decided he was gonna find a way to help his parents, except this time he knew little jobs at the park or helping the mailman wouldn't cut it

They knew they were talented and they could put their talents to good use, and the idea to create a band was somehow thrown into conversations

Only problem is, Bal is pretty good in technology, but he can't work backstage and on the bass at the same time, they'd need at least a third member

Enter Meredith Blitzmeyer

So I'm gonna stop this here because it's already pretty long, I'm exhausted and I'm pretty sure you can tell I got tired towards the end of this, but oh well.

Nimona's backstory's next.

And again, please add on to this with your ideas if you have any, I like hearing what you guys think.

[thebindingofpillo]

Isaac

The man. The myth. The legend himself, Isaac Moriah! His backstory will be pretty short since it’s basically already explained in the game, but there’s a couple little differences that might make it more interesting.

Isaac comes from a deeply problematic family. While his mother wasn’t homicidal, she was prone to rage outbursts and wasn’t above threatening violence to get her way, and his father wasn’t much better, always managing to escalate every and all conflict. They met  for the first time at an AA meeting, while Isaac’s mom was waiting for her brother (Uncle Bob lmao). The two actually clicked and started dating even if they were pretty different people: Mom (I’m just gonna call her Mom to not get her confused with Maggy) was the golden child of a fairly religious family, while Abe was a handy man who went to church every Sunday but not much else. While Mom’s family wasn’t against their relationship, they weren’t exactly pleased either but were willing to let it slide since their daughter seemed happy enough. Anyway, once Mom got pregnant, Abe swore to become the best father he could ever be, and was a good six months sober when they finally got married. Isaac was born soon after and the family actually managed to live happily enough for a few years.

Things get waaaay worse under the cut!

Mom’s family, not pleased with her shotgun wedding, disowned her and cut all contacts with them, which took a tremendous toll on Mom’s psyche, as she was very cose to her family. This caused her to start resenting her son in a way (in her mind, Isaac was the reason her life fell apart) ad there was nothing Abe could do to help her. Their fighting got worse and worse and in the end, Isaac’s did left the family for good, which made everything even worse! But enough about them! This is all about Isaac, his parents will get their own post. Maybe. Eventually. Most definitely, because I love to suffer.

Anyway, Isaac’s home life was never incredible, but with his father spiralling into alcoholism again and his mother being radicalised by televangelists, suffice to say it was a real shit life. I’m not gonna go into details about his abuse, because it makes me kinda uncomfortable and it almost feels voyeuristic in a way, but it wasn’t pretty. Still, Isaac managed to scrape a  few moments of happiness here and there, both with his mom and his dad. One of his dearest memories is of Abe’s bedtime stories, and the time they created the character of Bum-bo together, as well as the countless monsters and funny creatures they crafted out of the cardboard Mom provided them. Or when she let him play dress-up with her makeup and clothes. A crumb of good times amidst all the terrible ones. Eventually it got even worse. Once Abe left the family things very quickly spiralled out of control, with Mom getting more and more unstable and Isaac now taking the brunt of her rage. On a particularly bad day, Isaac locked himself in the toy chest to escape her (just a minor incident involving lunch probably, but Isaac saw the bread knife in her hand and thought the worst) and that’s where his fate diverges from the game.

But just as he accepted his fate, God intervened, sending an angel down from above to stop his mother's hand and, just like that, it was over. Eden burst into the door, quickly opened the chest and held Isaac firmly in their arms as he slowly came back to his senses. They were on the lookout for a new iteration of their friends, and managed to save Isaac just in time. The neighbours promptly called CPS and since both Mom and Abe were not suited to take care of a child, Isaac was put into a foster home that later adopted him. This is also where Maggy comes in! Isaac’s foster parents were her biological ones, so the kids grew up together as siblings. Isaac at first didn’t take very well to his new family, but they had both enough time and financial resources to get him everything he needed (mostly lots of therapy) and with time, he managed to get accustomed to them. Twenty years later, he has no problem calling them “mom” and “dad” and considers Magdalene his full sister. Isaac’s biological parents apparently fell off the face of Earth, and while he’s never expressed the desire to see them, he still thinks about his dad from time to time. While he understands the man probably wasn’t the hero he put on a pedestal when he was a kid, a little part of him still thought of Abe as a good man. What Isaac doesn’t know, is that his adoptive parents went to great lengths to make sure Abe could never reach out to his son, and even got a restraining order against him after the man tried to break into their house, completely drunk, and demanding to see him (Isaac was at school at the time, and doe not know about the incident). Eden also kept a closer eye on Isaac, even as they were busy finding the others.

After this, Isaac’s life became reassuringly mundane. After a couple of years, the family moved (due to Isaac’s therapy being pretty far from home) and in a new school, Isaac and Maggy met Judas, who quickly became their best friend. After middle school came highschool, then college (Isaac majored in art) then work as an illustrator for an indie magazine, then he managed to publish a book (with the help of his sister) and now he’s currently working on some commissioned projects while also trying to balance art contests and other independent gigs. Eventually Maggy left to go live with Judas, and Isaac stayed behind. He still lives with his parents, which is not that bad because they’re lovely people. He still attends group therapy once a month, and has a lot of friends (one of which is Job!!!!! Woooohoooo!!!! A dear friend of his, made by my buddy @bootleg-sara​), most of whom he met in college or while working as a freelance artist. Eve is also one of them! They met in art school.

His personality Isaac is the definition of a good boy. He is an incredibly caring man, and very sensitive too. This doesn’t mean he’s easy to push around tho. While sweet, he’s also very passionate, determined, and will fight tooth and nail for what he believes in, be it his friends or his art. He might be slow to anger, but that doesn’t mean he’s never had a fight. Despite what he went through, he still has a bit of childlike cheekiness in him, and while a bit shy, he’s very quick to warm up to new people. Magdalene helped him  a lot during his formative years, by being his anchor and his first best friend, and definitely helped him get out of his shell.

Now, traumatising events can cause the resurgence of those special memories, and taking into account the sheer amount of trauma Isaac went through during his childhood, it’s not surprising that he remembers everything. Even his past lives after the biblical events, something that no one in the rest of the cast managed to achieve (aside from Lazarus, due to his countless near-death experiences). While Isaac managed to get this under control through therapy and meditation, he still gets some wild dreams sometimes. Due to this, he’s practically unfazed by anything supernatural by now. He already knew Eden was an angel, he actually remembered Azazel from a couple of past lives, and didn’t bat an eye when he met Apollyon for the first time. Sure, angels and demons can be freaky sometimes (he even knows about Judas’ deal with Belial, which sucks because he’s incapable of stopping him) but he is OVER their shit. As long as they’re not a direct threat to him or anyone he loves, they can stay, or else they get the gun. When it comes to magic, Isaac is the living embodiment of the “call an ambulance… but not for me!” GIF.

Stuff

Suffers from claustrophobia.

Does not drink. At all. Can barely stand the smell of alcohol, and definitely doesn’t want to taste it. His friends are cool with it, of course, and he’s usually the designated driver every time they go out.

Despite having worked through most of his trauma, he still can’t bring himself to call Magdalene “Maggy”, as that was his mother’s nickname. He usually just calls her Mag/Mags. At first he couldn’t even stand other people saying that name, but with time he at least managed to overcome that barrier

Loves comics! Even started his own collection

Still loves cats. Currently has two of them, Pickle and Funkytown.

Is still somewhat religious, but mostly just because he knows God exists. You won’t see him in church every Sunday.

Met Azazel while he was in college (the demon was working as a delivery boy) and managed to be his wingman when he wanted to get closer to Judas and Maggy.

On the same note, him and Eden actually became friends throughout his life. They started hanging out around highschool, and while Eden is a bit volatile they still keep contact.

After being adopted, Isaac also changed his last name, so now he’s called Isaac Mitchell. This will probably not be relevant to the story but I felt like saying it

Prefers neutral colours and has a very basic wardrobe. While friendly and eager to meet new people, he’s more than okay with just blending into the background and observe the action

Both he and Maggy have an interest in sewing. While he’s not good enough to make his own clothes, Isaac uses his skills to fit his new dresses to him.

[lyfedda]

NOT AN OPEN RP

CW: Mild description of gore and violence

Ft. @ericfosterpi

The pain they felt. It was worse than anything they felt since losing their entire system. Lyf wanted nothing more than to scream. Too many emotions in their mind. Too much pain in their heart.

Lyf's hair was glowing brightly. Iridescent blood falling down their face. They knew where he was. They knew where he was and they were going to make him pay. They were going to kill him!

It was what Sinclair would have wanted.

Surely...

Lyf ignored the stares, they ignored the people looking at them. They had a goal in mind. Nothing else mattered. If they died, that didn't matter. They didn't care what happened. They couldn't handle another loss of someone they loved. They lost so much already. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair..

The house wasn't anything impressive. Big enough for them, they supposed. Lyf stared at it for a long time, a voice in the back of their head telling them that vengeance was wrong. Vengeance would only hurt more. Forgiveness was always better. These were the lessons they taught themself so long ago...

The door was locked, but that didn't stop Lyf from breaking it open and stepping inside. They heard movement from upstairs. No doubt the man. Maybe his wife, too.

Lyf was correct. Eric came to the top of the stairs, gun in hand. "What the fuck-?" He didn't hesitate, he shot at the fucking thing.

The bullet connected, but Lyf wasn't phased. They stepped forward. "Eric Foster," they said, their voice echoing around the room. "You."

Eric shot again and again, hitting Lyf every single time, but they wouldn't go down. "Shit," he whispered when he was out. "Shit!"

Lyf raised a hand, clenching their fist and opening a portal under him. They heard the bedroom door open again, but was quick to open their own portal and leave before Penelope saw them.

In the Bifrost, the world around them was too bright and falling apart at the seams. Breaking like glass and each piece larger than the next, falling into the nothingness below the tracks. Eric was hyperventilating. "This is a dream. This is a dream?!"

"No," Lyf's voice echoed through his head, their mouth not moving. "This is as real as you or I. Welcome to my domain. It's been waiting for you."

The train passed over them, the people inside screaming for an end, crying out to be spared, to be killed. Eric's poor heart was going to give out on him. That was a fate he didn't deserve.

"You killed Sinclair Foster," Lyf said, not phrasing it as a question because they knew. "Don't try and lie to me. I know. We all know," they stepped forward, pure power radiating off of them. "Surely you didn't think that would go unpunished. A life for a life. Isn't that fair?"

"N-No! Please, you don't understand! They were-" Eric tried to explain, but found his mouth was suddenly too heavy. His entire body actually... his skin began melting off of his bones!

"I don't want to hear your excuses," Lyf said, speaking out loud. "Perhaps I'll kill your wife instead!"

"Nhou!" Eric tried yelling, but couldn't get it out properly. "Mheh!"

His skin fell so easily and Lyf relished in the pain he felt. They moved over to him and plunged their hand in his flesh, hearing the cries of pure agony. They reached for his heart, squeezing it. "Scream!" They yelled, the sounds around them drowned out by Eric's own hollers. His own pain and suffering feeding Lyf.

"I can't hear you!" Lyf screamed, pulling their hand free, the world around them shattering more with their anger. "Did they cry for you to stop?! Did they beg for their life?! I want you to suffer like this did, Eric! I want you dead like they are!" Tears streamed down their face and they raised a shaky hand, ready to crush Eric like the bug that he was. Ready to kill him like he did to Sinclair, show him no mercy.

But... but...

Lyf sobbed. They lowered their hand and covered their face, dropping to their knees on the tracks. Sinclair's voice was in their head, telling them to stop. Telling them to they had to stop. "Damn it.." they whispered, wiping their eyes. "Damn it all... I can't." They wouldn't want Eric to suffer.

Eric's body was back to normal and he... he stared at the person. The pain subsided, like it never even happened in the first place. He reached up, touching his chest, where his heart beat rapidly.

He didn't know what to say. He wanted to leave, wanted to run, but where would he even go? His only chance was to get the stranger to see reason. "Hey," he said, trying to be brave. "I.. I'm sorry. I'm sorry about Sinclair. I... I had to. They would've killed me and my family."

Lyf shook their head, looking at the man with wide eyes. "No. No, they never would have done that. They loved you, Eric. They... no. They wouldn't have hurt you or your family. Who told you they would?"

Eric was sputtering. "I.. I- I didn't... I..." he sat on the tracks, thinking. "I never got his name. Only that he knew Sinclair and he knew what they were capable of. Then I found out they were the killer I was after and I..." he looked around again. "Where the hell are we?!"

Wiping their eyes, Lyf looked around at their shattered world. "The Bifrost," they said, getting up slowly. "It was once a place that caused me the worst pain I felt in my life. Now... well, it brings me some comfort." They offered a hand to Eric.

Hesitant, Eric took the hand and was helped to his feet. Lyf didn't let go after he was stood. "Don't take my mercy as weakness, Mr. Foster," they said, squeezing his hand hard enough to break his bones. Eric screamed again. Lyf didn't let go. "You live because I want you to," they said slowly, squeezing harder. "You breathe because there are others who can, have, and will take their bites out of you. You will never know peace again."

In a blink, Eric was kneeling in his living room, nursing a broken hand and screaming in pain.

Penelope was at his side in seconds, trying to comfort him, trying to ask him what happened as they got ready to take Eric to the hospital.

The man didn't say a word the entire way.

[youredreamingofroo]

Juniper Camila Norman

14 years old, DOB: 14/1/2010

Roo's youngest sister, Better known as Juno.

Born under Virginia and a man she met in Spain, Mateo García.

"I don't really... know Juniper, she lives in Spain with her father, Mateo, my Mother had another hookup some years ago and had Juniper, Juniper couldn't be cared for by her Mother, due to her inconsistent patterns of depression, while she pled sane, begging to keep her daughter in her custody, it was denied, and Mateo decided to take her, he didn't want her to end up in a janky foster home, he's kind and I love that for him, but from what I've heard from Mateo and my Mother, on the occasions that she can visit, it's nothing good, she seems to... use Mateo's kindness for her own enjoyment and manipulation, I hope what they're saying isn't true... but... last time my Mother told me about my younger sister, she was right... I worry for Mateo, and Juniper." - Roo

[Rest under the cut just in case, as it describes Juniper, who's overly exploitative of her father, doing things kids shouldn't be doing - nothing sexual 👍 E.G, Drugs, Vaping/Smoking, Drinking. There's also content involving an Eating disorder and fatphobia]

Juno is a terrible child, she's exploitative of Mateo's overly forgiving and kind person, Mateo is a very "she deserves a second chance," kind of guy, and at this point, he's given her at least 400 chances, and she's ruined each one, she's currently in 3º ESO, and averages around a 1.00-0.50 GPA, she views school as menial labour, and would rather hang out with her boyfriend and circle of friends. She spends most of her freetime [or otherwise, time where she's supposed to be in school] vaping, smoking, and getting drunk, the sheer rush of doing something she wasn't supposed to made her continue, but it was the rush she got from doing drugs, it made her feel like shit, and she regretted it afterwards, but it came full circle just for the rush.

She has struggled with her body, her boyfriend is openly against "fat" women, he will aloud judge her body in public, leaving her feel embarrassed, especially since she chooses to dress in more revealing clothes, leaving her vulnerable to judgement, and her boyfriend was her biggest critic. She doesn't eat much, she OMADs (One Meal a Day) quite frequently and fasts often, she's frail, but she does it for her boyfriend, and overtime, has become incredibly critical of other people and their body, while she doesn't openly state it like her boyfriend does to her, she finds herself doing it to her friends and sometimes telling her friends about people she saw and their bodies. With every passing week, she becomes weaker, she's still not considered severely underweight, but at 92 pounds, the effects of being underweight begin to take place, her periods slowly stopped occurring, she began getting dizzy frequently, she was always tired, she bruised easily and always felt like she was a sneeze away from collapsing. Mateo slowly noticed these symptoms, he cared for her and wanted her to be okay, so he took her to see a doctor, who had her sent to a treatment center.

Juno still suffers from a mild eating disorder, but has mostly recovered, Mateo makes sure to monitor her, as per her and the doctor's request, but she continues to be a pain in the ass to most people, and since recovering, she's lost all her friends and her boyfriend ended things with her, but he couldn't end it like a normal person, and had to call her all kinds of things, but the worst for her was "fat." Juno has lasting effects from being underweight and a recovering addict, she had to be pulled out of school, and resides with her father, who is helping her recover, while she more than definitely appreciates it, she has a persona that she has to keep up and acts annoyed and pissy with Mateo, but he knows better. She still has retained some habits from her old circle of friends, like dressing in revealing clothing (more specifically as a habit from her ex), putting on (sometimes) messy makeup, and getting her nails done.