#id want a massive gun on MY back

[potato-sauce]

Currently thinking about Guzzle (at least I'm pretty sure he's Guzzle i tend to get the Wreckers mixed up sometimes because they die and get replaced so often sob)

My guy has a massive fucking gun on his back

That's cool as hell

[limethefirst]

UGH MY HEART— I READ THE FANFIC YOU WROTE WHERE THE READER REMINDED SHADOW OF MARIA AND IT WAS SO CUTTEE!! Can I request another one with the same concept? Maybe one where the reader gets hurt in some way connected to the movie’s story line, and Shadow’s scares of losing them? Like how he lost Maria!

Not again

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader [platonic]

warnings: sonic 3 spoilers, mentions of injury, G.U.N shoots a (implied) minor…when don’t they

summary: While trying to infiltrate the G.U.N headquarters, you get caught and are fortunately saved by Shadow after a rough encounter

a/n: this request was challenging for me to think on because I wasn’t sure how to incorporate the reader getting hurt in the story since I didn’t know any moments that made sense but here you go! I’m sorry if it’s not the best but I hope you enjoyed and tysm for supporting my stories!!!

The plan was simple, Robotnik and Gerald would get in and out, while you would infiltrate the GUN base. Unfortunately life had a way of throwing curve balls at you. As you hid behind a wall, opening your computer to try and deactivate some security protocols a stray guard managed to stumble upon you.

“Hey, you,” the guard somewhat yelled, making you quickly snap your head up from your small laptop. You definitely did not look like you belonged here, you were too young compared to most of the other people here who were in their mid 30s to late 40s, “Let me see your badge,”

Oh no, this was something you didn’t prepare for, you didn’t have a badge, you were stuck here. Quickly thinking you set a small distress signal to Stone from the small laptop still held in your grasp, letting him know of your situation.

Nervously you responded to the guard, “Uh I- uhm forgot my ID back home,” you patted yourself down, pretending to look for an ID that you obviously didn’t have. As you did you slowly put the laptop on the floor.

The guard, clearly not believing you, turned on his radio calling for backup. Your mind was racing, you knew getting caught was not an option so the only thing you could do at this point was run.

“You get back here!” You made a quick glance back, seeing as two other men, with actual guns started to chase after you, their weapons raised to you.

There was no way they’d actually shoot at someone, especially someone actively way younger than them.

Suddenly your arm stung, red began to seep through your fake uniform, oh god they were really shooting at you.

You quickly turned the corner running behind a wall, trying to get away. A small lab was close by, maybe you could hide in there and hope they would pass you by.

The door was open by some miracle; quickly slipping into the dark and empty room you made your way to the desk off by the far right and sat down there, covering your mouth holding back the scream you wanted to let out from the burning bullet wound on your arm. It wasn’t a massive wound, not by any means, it was a graze but it was still a gun shot and it hurt like hell. Tears were threatening to spill from your glossy eyes but the fear of making noise kept them at bay.

You heard the door creak open, light footsteps echoing in the room. They were nearing and you had nowhere to run, surely they wouldn’t kill you, that wasn’t morally right but they shot at you, well you were trespassing on government property so you weren’t sure what they’d do.

You heard a creak to your left; they’d found you. You saw the man reach for the electrical handcuffs but before he had the chance to grab them a sudden flash of red caught you by surprise.

Shadow had found you as well, you watched him take down the three men. He teleported throughout the room, confusing the men. He began to teleport between the men, going from one to the next, landing a hit on each before he did it again.

You sat there, your back against the wall, your breathing was heavy, your eyes wide, fear lacing your every feature.

Once Shadow had finally finished he turned back to you, his stoic and angry gaze quickly falling, his eyes widened as he quickly made his way over to you. He gently but urgently grabbed your bloody arm, his face a mix of anger and fear.

He was normally very neutral, the only thing on his mind revenge, but currently all he sensed was fear. This scene was all too familiar to him, it reminded him of those terrifying moments he had so many years ago.

As Shadow held a tight grip on your arm, the tears that were brimming your eyes had finally fell, you tried to choke the sobs but all the adrenaline had finally wore off. Shadow looked around the room, finding some gauze that he then used to wrap around the wound.

Once he had stopped you could no longer hold yourself back, you quickly grabbed onto Shadows torso as you sat on the cold dirty floor, your face red with tears and snot. Shadow stood still, he was enraged, long ago GUN had taken something he cared about, and once again they tried to take something else.

He slowly let his arms wrap around your shaking figure, he knew how to comfort people, he’d done it with Maria before, but it had been so long.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Shadow quietly comforted, his words didn’t do much but you knew you could trust them. So you just sat there, as Shadow waited, remembering what it was like to care and comfort someone.

[suzukiblu]

brother

"Okay," Cassie says, and the two of them head into the kitchen together. She should definitely, definitely call somebody, but she still doesn't. "So the name thing . . . do you want one that actually means something, or just one that sounds cool, or . . . ?"

"I just want one," Not-Kon/Not-Match says with a shrug, opening the fridge and peering inside. "Not gonna be picky about the details, this is more about performing emergency emotional triage and asserting an individual identity and sense of self as quickly as possible than anything else." 

"Uh," Cassie says, just staring at him for a moment. "What?" 

"I might have some superhero-grade therapy technique uploads in my head," Not-Kon/Not-Match admits, pointing at his temple for a moment. "Which is probably a point for somebody not Tim making me, because I cannot imagine that dude's ever spoken to a single fucking therapist who wasn't either from Arkham or the victim of a crime. There's soba noodles and shrimp in here, how's that sound? Oh, and edamame." 

"I'm down with that," Cassie says. "Do you want any help?" 

"Do you know how to cook soba noodles?" he asks. "Or edamame?" 

"Honestly I didn't know you had to cook edamame at all," Cassie says. 

"Raw soy protein is poisonous," he says. 

". . . so yeah I'll just do the dishes when you're done, how's that," Cassie offers sheepishly. 

"Solid plan," he says, then points at the kitchen island. Cassie sits down on one of the barstools in front of it and pulls out her phone to start browsing, like, baby names sites or something. 

"All the really good names I know are Greek," she says. "Don't know any available Kryptonian ones, like I said. I thiiiiink Lex Luthor might be German but don't quote me on that and really, fuck that guy anyway."

"Yeah, I don't want anything to do with him," Not-Kon/Not-Match agrees, pulling a package of noodles and some weirdly random-seeming vegetables out of the fridge. "He already messed with and mind-controlled Kon, fuck if I wanna find out what he'd try and do to me." 

"'Conner' is an Irish name, apparently?" Cassie suggests as she skims search results, frowning consideringly at her phone. "As far as I know Kon only went by it because it sounds kinda like 'Kon-El' but I guess it's still an option." 

"Hm," Not-Kon/Not-Match says, frowning too. "Well, that's as good a place to start as any. Although you really don't have to think about it this hard, I really did mean it when I said I wasn't gonna be picky about this." 

"You're four hours old and your entire existence is a massive ethics violation," Cassie says, glancing up at him again. He's busy reading the back of the soba noodles' packaging, but still clearly listening to her. Hopefully that's a good sign, that he's been listening to her. "I am definitely gonna think about it this hard. Or do you want, like . . . a Tim-adjacent name, maybe? If he made you?"

"I don't know," Not-Kon/Not-Match says. "Him making me is still just my best guess and it might not be great for his secret ID either. Also I don't know if I hate him for making me yet or not, so I don't know if I want anything to do with him either." 

"Point," Cassie says, frowning again and trying another site. That . . . might be a problem, yeah. If Tim actually is currently messed up enough to deliberately make a whole entire person and also try to make that person Kon . . . 

Well, he's probably not gonna react well to said person not being Kon, for starters. Especially if said person also wants nothing to do with him. 

Gods, yeah, there's a horrible thought. 

Please just don't let this lead to Gun Batman, Cassie prays to herself. Please don't let that be where this situation is heading. 

"Hmmm," she says. "Well, either way Kon's still like, your brother, right? So it'd make sense to give you a name related to one of his."

"I don't really know," Not-Kon/Not-Match says thoughtfully as he sets up a pot of water on the stove and starts sorting through the vegetables on the counter to line them up next to the cutting board. "Although I guess he might've thought so? Apparently he called Match his brother when they first met. And, you know, I have a functioning concept of free will and I don't have any particular desire to murder him or his friends, so he probably would've liked me better than he liked Match. Then again, Kon's also already dead, so maybe I'd feel differently about the murder thing if he weren't? But if he weren't dead I wouldn't exist anyway, so . . . catch-22, maybe?" 

Cassie, again, is reminded that Not-Kon/Not-Match is still running the numbers on the supervillain thing. So . . . yeah. That is very much a thing, still. 

"Please tell me that your mental uploads told you that murder is bad," she says, eyeing him warily again. If they didn't, she and Tim are going to be having an even longer long talk than the one she's already planning. 

"They did," Not-Kon/Not-Match confirms. "They also told me that I was Kon, though, so I'm currently taking all their provided information with a grain of salt." 

Fuck everything, Cassie thinks with far too much feeling.

[nitrosodiumfmp]

Games Like Sinister | Aesthetics

Quake is a classic; a fast and brutal shooter from id's glory days, and massively influential as a 3D first-person shooter. The story of its development is interesting - it was originally conceptualized as a high fantasy game, but development was grinding to a halt, and so the team literally said "Let's just make it like Doom" and scrapped the fantasy elements in favour of guns and sci fi trappings. They kept the original maps, however, which gives the finished game an interesting vibe. You start off in a grimy tech-base before heading into dismal worlds filled with castles and dungeons. The enemies are all a fusion of this too, like the Ogre, a hulking monster pulled straight from a fantasy setting, but brandishing a bloodied chainsaw and grenade launcher. This unapologetic smashing-together of the futuristic and the medieval gives Quake a look that's hard as nails, and it's the sort of thing I want to do with Sinister, but more surreal too.

I love Cruelty Squad. Yes, it's a mess of vibrant colours, leering faces and questionable design decisions that makes my retinas bubble like eggs in a pan, but it's a uniquely-designed tactical shooter and immersive sim with some of the most interesting themes I've seen out of a game. As stated by the Steam page, it takes place in a "sewer infused garbage world", a biopunk dystopia where hypercapitalism is rife and corporations rule like gods. It is undeniably surreal, but there are some distinguishable elements; even basic locations like a shipyard or police station are ominous and Gothic, with arches, spires, and wooden columns. Maps like Paradise have strange buildings with spinning towers, and faces are on every other surface, many appearing like medieval gargoyles or grotesques. This weirdness vaguely ties in with the story as well. In the most basic (read: comprehensible by the human mind) terms, death no longer exists - people can be brought back to life, and so the value of life plummets, both economically and philosophically. In the last non-secret level, Archon Grid, you have to kill Abraxas, essentially Death. The reason that level is so surreal, floating pillars and a nonsensical layout, is because it's the point where life and death break down. It's not just weird and off-putting ironically, there's nuance behind it, and it's definitely relevant to Sinister.

I've spoken about Thief before; mostly about cognitive processing, and how its mechanical complexity makes any modern AAA game look about as deep as a trough of pigswill in comparison. This time I want to focus on the aesthetic. I think the best way to describe it is Gaslamp Fantasy. It's clearly medieval on the surface; castles, stonework, nightwatchmen, bows, but there's a more technological aspect to it. The main villains, the religious fanatic Hammerites, bring more steampunk technology, with electric lights, gears, gauges, even security cameras. However, it doesn't dip its toes directly into steampunk, and the more Victorian associations of that genre; the society is still medieval in architecture and sensibilities, but people have access to steam engines and Tesla coils. If it's not obvious so far, I love strange machinery and moving components in level geometry, and to combine this with a medieval look that I already had planned is pretty viable for Sinister.

NecroVisioN is an interesting game; a World War 1 shooter, that's unique enough, but with a combo system, and zombies, and vampires... and mechs... and demons... and dragons... It's a super-edgy mess of a game, and I can't help but love it. The most relevant part of it is the aesthetic when you enter the vampires' realm, miles below No Man's Land. It's very Gothic, ornate stonework et cetera, but there's a strange mechanical vibe to it as well. Generators, cisterns, and pipes, but still in that Gothic style; they're attached to walls with ribbed vaults and flying buttresses. This game is also more relevant graphically; it retains the 2000s fantasy aesthetic I talked about previously, with its stone corridors steeped in bloom and anti-aliasing, lit up with strong coloured lighting.

I love Ultrakill; while I'm not very good at it, I feel the vibe it gives out and I LOVE it. Fast-paced combo-based retro-styled bloody mayhem, using the Divine Comedy as a metatext like all good combo-based video games. Beyond it using Greek mythology as a basis, which is already quite relevant for the project, every area has a very strong aesthetic. The Prelude is a bloodstained mining facility, Limbo is fake gardens and cathedrals, Lust is a blue-n-purple city in the sky, Gluttony is a massive digestive system, Greed is a desert of golden sand, Wrath is an ocean (the River Styx after mankind's souls caused it to flood), Heresy is a city raining blood, and I'm keeping myself blind to Violence and Fraud, but they seem to be a grey labyrinth and a massive judicial building respectively. The game is super varied with environments, but it manages to tread the line of mechanical and futuristic imagery versus Gothic and religious imagery very well, with my closest comparison being Warhammer. The most salient example of this is the Heresy layer, where liars and false prophets endure eternal torture in crypts of boiling blood; stained-glass tracery is visible alongside gigantic industrial chains, hauling weights and pulleys into unseen chambers. The fact that it also takes place in Hell is also pretty usable for Sinister.

[cursedauxiliary]

Dream

There was this big mansion with huge sloping down hill surrounded by tall dense woods, as we* (me and the owner? Of the house) was walking down, the owner kept getting odd jobs like babysitting, cleaning this, doing that etc. He was trying to get proof of what hes done and I guess I was it. But the other neighbors realized this and didnr want that to happen so it becomes a chase of trying to run back up the hill with ppl chasing me. Eventually I get into the house but it turns into this massive facility that's like a mall/theatre etc at the same time

A bounty gets placed on my hand and now I'm running all over the place to avoid ppl, having to climb a lot of stairs, there are some weird characters that pop up like fitness guys that I juke by hopping the railing onto a diff staircase, or finding a maintenance staircase on the side of a stage, I keep running until I happen to find an elevator which I guess they didnt even think about. So I enter close the door and theres a women with a desk inside asking that to have proof I need ID so I give her what I got and my email but she said I need more. So i have to go back and look for a passport or something. I get to ground floor and pretty nonchalantly walk out (I dont think the ppl realized I had made it so close to the exit so they didnt think it was me) but I get out and i cant hold it in, with giggles and sighs of relief. I find a car and have 2 ppl in the back with me, they're on my side but they're not exactly human. Some prince charming type walks up to the car and pulls on the door handle while trying to talk but I already locked the doors. I flip him off and start driving away (he was another bounty hunter) but the guy is persistent so as I'm driving, I have to keep my distance away from him. I pull up to one house able to chill for a bit and it's the home of like my "previous parents/family" the marriage is rocky and say they love me but they cant do much without endangering themselves too (getting up in age), they say dont have my IDs so I have to try my original home. I continue driving and pull up to the walmart that's back at my irl hometown, the prince charming followed us here n starts chasing, I get out of the car and he tries using a net gun, but by the back of the Walmart is ton of boxes n crates which i crawl and navigate thru until i p much get back to my irl hometown and sneak into my irl home n family who are so disappointed and dont want to see me but I get what I need. Its summer foliage outside but theres snow and I look at a map and in like midwest America but north to be on the border of Canada. So now it's a matter of traveling to some small lake communities and mooch of the houses there and avoid big populations n not get caught

[p1nkp0nkk]

for the ask game : 🎻 VIOLIN — does your oc play any instruments? what is their skill level (beginner/intermediate/advanced/virtuoso/etc)? 💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons?

🐉 DRAGON — what is your oc's favorite mythical creature?

☕️ HOT BEVERAGE — does your oc prefer coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk, water, or some other drink? how do they like to take this drink (ex. coffee with milk, hot chocolate with whipped cream, a specific kind of tea, etc)?

🤓 SMILING FACE WITH GLASSES — is your oc chatty or quiet? are they at ease in social situations, or are they more shy?

all. for any ocs and stuff

🎻i think. if pink tried she could learn to play the piano really quickly. dexter can probably play the ukulele and the piano and maybe a guitar if he tried really hard. i think. mime can play the violin but i forgot if im making that up or if thats an actual thing. therapy can probably play the piano maybe. pianos are cool.

💯pink is. not human whatsoever. or atleast not mostly (ryan is her cousin ryan is human). she just has human skin because??? good question. idk bro. dexter is. a partial shapeshifter but in a lame way. sometimes he wears his ears and tails like a furry and sometimes he can actually merge into them and take on partial animal features. also his 'dad' (in quotations caus he sucks and i hate him) has purple skin because he is a dark elf. its a recessive gene so. dexter didn't get it. therapy was. a model child and was always on stage n stuff and actually is really fucked up from it(severe social anxiety; heavily neglected; a lot of other stuff) also adding this one on even though its. an extra one. dartrix, one of dexters middle names, comes from a pokemon

🔺before i. actually answer this i thought id say pinks species went through evolution specifically to build weapons into her wings and tails because they did not know how to defend themselves. pink has like. massive spikes out of her wings and her tail. and has super sharp claws that could kill someone

okay. um. dexter is really fucking traumatized and can work just about any weapon; or make things that weren't a weapon in the first place into a weapon. he's partially good with blades.

AA definitely does not know how to work a weapon at all but if you gave her a gun she would. figure it out really quickly and probably accidentally shoot herself in the leg. but then she'd probably retain that information and then know how to work it just incase (will probably fuck up again though because their. whole thing is bad luck)

Trixie. is like. a mad scientist. she could probably work a weapon and also infuse skin burning acid into it and then look deep into the burned acid molecules of your flesh and figure out how to make it as awful as possible. for science of course(he is crazy and insane)

🐉this is. an interesting question because a lot of my ocs are made up animals. me personally i really. like demons and anything with wings.

pink probably likes griffins or. maybe unicorns if she's feeling corny.

dexter likes skinwalkers(if that counts)(sea serpents and kappa if not maybe)

Pip(AA) probably likes dragons and unicorns caus pip is lame as hell.

Tisini(Trixie) likes. centaurs but not because they're cool but because she desperately wants to know the genetics behind them

i. dont know its kinda difficult to answer since a large majority of my ocs are mythical creatures lmao. also i thought id add in even if seraphim wasnt an incubus he would probably still have incubi and demons as his favourite

☕i think ive. answered this before. i dont remember ill probably edit and come back with this if i did(update i. did not)

uhhhh pink likes both but prefers cold drinks probably. pink works in a coffee shop she makes a lot of. hot drinks so probably a bit ironic probably. dexter likes cold drinks, it depends for me i like both but it just. depends how i feel. i think i generally prefer cold. pip likes scorching hot or freezing cold no inbetween there is something different wrong with. it.

🤓BATTERY ACID(AA/pip) is. so fucking annoying they'll make you want to rip your ears off. they are so incredibly social its sickening. pink has social anxiety and is bad at hiding it but shes still really nice and actually does enjoy talking like. 60% of the time. seraphim is flirtatious so hes chatty unless you. dont want to fuck him. but even outside of that hes actually pretty social and hes pretty nice. hes really confident and hes aware of it. antrigus is really. really chatty. trigz has social anxiety but attempts to be outgoing so. kinda both. asmodeus(seraphim is. dating this guy btw) is kinda awkward but hes still kinda confident so its kinda a weird mix but he tries his best. hes fairly nice. alex is also a chatterbox but they'll. shut up if you dont speak to them enough unlike the other guys. dexter will kill you if you talk to him.

also. editing this later i usually put my asks tag in the front but i. put the wrong tag so i had to add it at the end lmao

this is. really long oh my god

i fucked up seraphims oc tag I'm crying i also have to. add it at the end(hes an. incubus not a succubus)(the. second asmodeus tag will make less sense now unless you read from bottom to top but its fine)

[fukbroty]

coach lost the bet. he was tired of my cocky attitude and wanted to teach me a lesson. he figured that after he won and put me in my place, the team dynamics would change and we'd gel better.

the bet was coach would pick 2 things to compete on, and I would pick 2 things to compete on. but you couldn't pick 2 similar competitions, so coach couldn't pick 2 strength challenges, and I couldn't pick 2 speed/agility challenges. the 5th competition would be decided by the team. whoever won more of these competitions would win the bet.

now coach is a big solid dude. big chest, huge guns and strong like a bull. he picked bench press and wrestling. there was no way I'd beat coach at bench, i'm strong for my size and can lift more than most guys expect, but i'm 170lbs. coach is 210lbs and def has the better chest. for wrestling, coach can prob dominate me since he's got 40lbs and 2" or 3" of height on me, but i'm pretty wiry and might be able to take him off guard.

for my choices, I picked obstacle course race and wide grip pull ups. obstacle was an easy choice. coach is fast but not agile. obstacle involves strength, speed, agility, fitness, etc. i'm prob 15 yrs younger than coach, and his size/strength isn't going to do him any favors on the race. as for wide grip pull ups, I wanted to beat coach at a strength exercise just to rub it in his face a little. coach has a massive chest, huge arms, thick legs and a beefy ass with a decent back. but wide grip pull ups are harder the more you weigh. gravity is gonna be working against coach on each rep. his bigger body needing more effort for each pull up. but it's still a strength exercise and coach has been trash talking about how i'd never beat him at strength challenge.

for the last choice the team huddled up and decided what to do. but instead of telling us, they wrote it down and put it in a sealed envelope that would be opened after the other 4 competitions were over. so here's the thing, chances are coach would win his 2 choices and i'd win my 2 choices. so the deciding event would be up to the team. we also agreed on a 5 min break time between events and that we both had to compete each event. no dropping out or conceding.

now coach def has the teams respect and is used to being in control and in charge. coach is relying on the team to side with him and take me down by picking something that he will crush me on. for me, i'm banking on my buds having some sway. I drink and party with these guys every weekend. i'm great buds with most of them, and I don't think anyone hates me. but there are probably some of them that would wanna see me go down and might side with coach. so it's a toss up as to who will win. we had the team pic the last challenge before we agreed on the payouts.

as for the bet, coach wanted the whole school to know that I went down and that he was the man. if coach won, he wanted me to be super embarrassed and humiliated so that i'd stop being so cocky. I'd have to wear daisy duke cut offs super short, combat boots, and a tight cut off football jersey that couldn't go lower than the bottom of my pecs. basically coach wanted me to look like a slutty go-go boy so that everyone would stop me and ask WTF and I'd have to tell them that I lost a bet to coach and he's the bigger/better man.

for me, I wanted coach at my party that weekend. I always had buds over, but this weekend my parents were out of town and I was having a party for the team. I told coach that he'd have to open the door and greet my guests, go around fetching the guys beers/drinks and stay for clean up. but, all he'd get to wear was his ball cap. the team went ape shit and started cheering. coach immediately said no, and that he'd get fired if it ever got out.

not wanting to go to far, I toned it back. coach would open the door in just his ballcap, but he could hold it in front of his crotch to hide his dick. he'd collect everyone's phone at the door, so no pics. he'd check everyone's ID to make sure they were 18, and only the team players and their gf's were allowed at the party. coach would just do the door and could stand backed into the corner of my house so just his front side is showing.

since it's just players and gf's over 18 and coach's dick wasn't exposed and his ass would be backed into a corner, I didn't see any issues with him getting fired.

coach thought about it but said no more than 10 players from the team, no gf's, no phones, no one under 18, and no one says a word about it. that wasn't exactly fair since i was gonna be exposed to the whole school, so I said that we get to tell everyone that coach lost the bet, and he's my doorman at the party and on clean up duty, and I get 1 pic of him with just his ballcap to prove I won, and a vid of him in just the ballcap saying that he lost the bet and that I was definitely the bigger/better man. that seemed fair, since coach was gonna make me tell the whole school that same thing all day long and there would be tons of pics/vids of me from that day. my vid would be private and I wouldn't share it with anyone.

coach agreed and we shook on it. as expected, coach out bench'd me although I put in my best effort and did manage to impress him with how much I lifted for 8 reps. obstacle course was an easy win for me. I killed coach by minutes and he was winded and tired by the end of it. it's not so easy when he's on the other side of the whistle. ;)

I was hoping the obstacble course would have him wiped out and I might stand a chance at wrestling. if I won wrestling I probably wouldn't need to win the team choice challenge. the match took longer than either of us expected and I held my own, but coach was already breathing hard and wiped from the obstacle. I almost pinned coach a few times but he seemed to tap into this new found strength and would always escape and then put the pressure back on me. he eventually pinned me but not without considerable effort and energy.

I was trying to make coach use up all his strength and energy so that even if the team sided with him on their choice for the 5th competition, I might still stand a chance if coach was too wiped out. on the 4th competition, I killed coach on the wide grip pull ups. he barely got to 6 before he tapped out. I could have stopped at 7 and saved my energy for the last mystery event, but I wanted to rub coach's face in the fact that I was stronger than him at something. I stopped at 15 reps, and for good measure I threw in some trash talk hoping to kill any wind coach had left in him.

for the last competition, the team led us into the locker room, which was odd. they handed coach and I the sealed envelope with the last competition the team had agreed to.

coach opened the envelope and his eyes went wide. he immediately said no way, bets off and crumpled up the paper to the sound of the team boo'ing and hissing at him. I grabbed the crumpled paper from his hand and read it.

"Biggest dick contest!! 5 points for the longest dick soft. 10 points for the longest dick hard"

I looked at the team with a WTF look and started to laugh. this was actually pretty creative. it had nothing to do with physical ability but it would prove who was the 'bigger man'. that was a fav phrase of coach's. saying he was the bigger man, or man up and be the bigger man, etc.

now the entire team has seem me naked in the showers and I hang decent when soft. i'm not a horse, but i'm also not a shrimp. but none of them had ever seen me full on hard. I could be a show'er who didn't grow much more, or I could be a show'er and a grower with a donkey dick. coach was the wild card. no one knew what he was packing. he could be wearing super tight compression gear under his gym attire, or he could be not blessed down there.

the team tried to get coach to relent but he was digging in his heels. I thought about it and said, we could make this work with some terms. I was 18 yo, so I told coach that if we did it in private in his office, just the 2 of us, it would be fine. no one would see anything, and if he really wanted to, he could measure in the corner with his back turned to me and i'd trust his score.

coach still refused. I pulled coach aside and told him that he wanted team bonding and for us to gel better and he got it. if he backs out now, not only is he gonna lose that, but the team is gonna be pissed and won't respect him for backing out on his word. didn't he always tell us to man up and be the bigger man. coach was trapped and he knew it.

it was an interesting dilemma. on the 1 hand, I wanted to know if I had coach beat and by exactly how much. but on the other hand, i could see how if I did win, it would be embarrasing/humiliating for coach if I knew exactly what he was packing and by how much I outmanned him. but in the reverse, most people would expect coach to be packing more than me since he was bigger/taller, and he'd have little to no upside in the bet.

I made a proposal to coach. he could measure in the corner with his back to me in his office. he'd measure soft first, then hard. when he was done, i'd take the ruler and measure in front of him. soft and hard. he knew the scoring system and when he saw my measurements, all he'd have to say is that he won or lost. he could have won by 5" or 1/2" no one would ever know. Looking him in the eye I told him that I trusted him to be honest b/c he always taught us to play fair.

reluctantly coach agreed. as we went back to tell the team about the deal, I checked out coach's crotch. it didn't look like coach was hung like a horse, but he wasn't a ken doll either. this was gonna be interesting.

coach locked the door to his office and then looked at me and said 'not a word about this to anyone, got it?' I swore that i'd never mention a word and that the team has sworn that they would never mention any of the challenges. they could only say we bet and who won and who lost. no other details.

coach went into the corner and the 1st measurement was easy. he took some time in the corner before I realized that maybe coach needed some 'help' getting himself ready for the 2nd measurement. I mentioned to coach that if he wanted me to leave the office so he could use his phone for some "inspiration", that was cool with me. he gave me a gruff grunt and said it's fine, it's just that when you aren't 18 yo, it takes some more time.

I chuckled at that and couldn't fault the logic. to pass the time, I started staring at coach's ass. I've seen coach's ass lots at practice, but never without shorts on. I also noticed his shorts had no liner and his underwear was UA's but not compression gear. that gave me some hope that I might be able to beat coach.

after what seemed like an hour of checking out coach's ass, but was prob only a few minutes, coach pulled up his shorts, turned around, and handed me the ruler. as I was about to pull down my shorts, I asked coach how he measured. he gave me a puzzled look? so I clarified and said we wanna measure apples to apples. did he measure from the underside of his dick or the top of his dick?

coach realized the question and he said the ruler on top of your dick pushed back until it hits your crotch but not pushed into your body. I gave coach a thumbs up and walked over to his desk. ready to get this over with, I shucked my shorts down and placed my dick on his desk. then I put the ruler over my dick and asked him if that's fair. I didn't want coach saying later that I cheated. i'd honor the bet if I lost. fair was fair.

coach said it was fine and he looked down at the ruler to see the measurement. I was watching coach's face for any tell, but nothing. he didn't seem shocked, he didn't seem elated, he didn't seem distraught. my best guess was that we hung close to the same and he might have me beat by half an inch or maybe an inch. but he wasn't double my size soft.

now came the real moment. coach offered to turn around and said to let him know when I was ready. getting a chance to privately look at coach's body and his ass (even if it was covered in shorts) it didn't take me long. 30 seconds later, I told coach I was ready. he chuckled to himself and I heard him say something about if only he was 18 again. then he turned around.

now i'm not gonna tell you what happened next. if I say coach was floored and stunned, you'd know I had him out manned easily. if I said coach did a fist pump in the air and laughed, you'd know he had me out manned easily.

all i'm gonna say is that coach was a man of his word. and the team did get along way better after this team building session.

[carouseldreamdiary]

04.01.23

first half i was like in a school as a student , and i was in a sort of gang w my friends to solve this mystery abt the school . and th deputy head rly liked me and kept giving me new student ID with other peoples names and faces on it , it was so weird

then i woke up and went back 2 sleep and i was an adult now and i knew the secret so they started killing all my friends and it was only me and this guy left and we were tryna get to my house but i got scared he was gna rape me so he closed his eyes as i took him to my house cuz then he couldnt memorise where i lived(?) and we got inside but then the police came and got us then i woke up again and went back to sleep

and now i was an adult and working to check out this school as another adult and it was super fucked they abused the kids but all their results were amazing so we couldnt rly justify why the place needed to be shut down and nobody was listening to us . and this little girl lept into my arms and i was tryna ask her if she was okay and they pulled her off me and ughghgughgg everyone was jst smiling so fake was bad

then i went back to sleep and woke up and i was going to this huge underground drug market like it was massive w ppl selling on stalls hfbk,fgh but a few mins after i got there it got raided . i thought it would be by police but we listened and it was like echoed screaming and whooping and everyone started panicking . some went towards the noise, some went to the entrance , some hid. so i decided to hide . and i watched as these like undescribable creatures arrived and started ripping people to pieces limb by limb it was horrible

i peeked around another corner and they were throwing children and babies off the railings . so i sneakily tried to grab a baby but they saw me an started chasing after me . nd i remember thinking i dont want to die in a dream then i thought ah wait its a dream so how can i get out of this ? and i thought ok ill be super powered and kill them all so i rounded the corridor and encountered 2 more and it was like my body rose up and i became like them , creatures . and i just killed them both . then i flew to the main area and started killing them all it was like a videogame but superpowered jst one by one i turned to their heads and shot my hands thru them but they werent my hands they were like these long cables coming out my wrists

then suddenly in the chaos i realised they were reviving people so i tried to kill them but i couldnt in time and a few came back to life and grabbed me from behind so i grabbed his neck and twisted it really hard but it was like rubber and wouldnt snap . so i tried to threaten the other guy by putting a gun to his head but he didnt seem to care so i shot them all then i woke up

the monsters looked like this

[lutawolf]

Episode 11 Notes And Thoughts

These started out as a way for me to come back to a thought I had. Then they became something that others looked forward to. It became something we could discuss. This time the notes had a lot of help from the coconuts mafia @victooooorious @akitbeast @biochemjess @slangerogkatter thank you for all the support and help 💜💜💜 alright, get ready to go deep on VegasPete.

Let me start off by saying that you probably won't understand my notes unless you understand my theory. I believe that Vegas took note of Pete when Pete stood up to Khun and wouldn't tie up Macau. That's why he and his brother were more amused by Pete following them than upset. Somewhere between that time and the first dungeon torture scene in episode 7, Vegas was very interested in Pete. There was a lot to be seen in that episode to prove it too. So why the massive torture, like Vegas is pissed, if he cares for Pete. That is exactly why, here is the guy he has shown his true self to, who paid respects to his mom, who he wants to spend his next life with betraying him. He proves his loyalty is to the main family and it makes Vegas angry. Do you know the strength and endurance it takes to torture someone?? I do. It's a lot. You don't get this level of angry intensity unless you are invested.

So we start of the episode with a swinging good time. Seriously though, no hit is landed until Pete has tightened those muscles. Vegas is mad but he has no intention of killing him.

Vegas says "At first I was going to kill you but then I changed my mind" I would be inclined to believe this if all his actions didn't point differently.

"Because when you suffer, you become more interesting" he's letting Pete know he is aware of his secret.

Look at that stare that Pete is giving. He is every bit as angry and pissed as Vegas.

"No legacy is so rich as honesty" is a William Shakespeare quote. That can mean so many different interpretations. In the play it was a mock of maidenhood, and the desperate measures using it to gain prosperity. The growth that one learns from their legacy. Then learning to be honest and portray a truthful character is more powerful than any other trait existing.

"You are such a good pet of the main family"

So is Vegas calling him a pet in general or is he specifically saying the main family?

"Let me tell you something, only a fool thinks that honesty is real" Further proof we can't trust Vegas words so much as his actions.

I want you to notice that Pete yells for Vegas to kill him. He is angry and mad at Vegas but when Vegas' dad comes in and hurts Vegas. His eyes cut to him with malice.

Look at Vegas' face when his dad hands him the gun. He is not okay with this. Which is the complete fucking opposite to how he acted with Tawan and Porsche. He didn't necessarily want to do it, he gave a Dom apology to one and was planning a head shot with the other. Yet he wasn't broken up. He does not want to kill Pete though, not at all.

Above note how he looks Tawan in the eyes as he shoots him, then he turns and goes to shoot Porsche in the head. Never taking his eyes of. With Pete though, his head is lowered. He is going to initially shoot but he can't look at him while doing it. Why? Unless he is already attached to Pete in a way that is more than Tawan and Porsche.

But even head down. Vegas can't kill Pete. So Pete will have to come with him.

How does Vegas know so much about grandma? I mean, yeah the name is on the caller ID but does that guarantee a good relationship? The kind of relationship that Pete would lose his shit over? The kind of relationship where she will lie for Pete? How does Vegas know?

That broke Pete and if you think that didn't turn Vegas on, you're wrong. Vegas is so angry right now that he isn't seeing straight. You've guys have to understand that anger and Sadist are not a good combination. It's like the parent who spanks but hits a power trip and slides into abuse. It's why you shouldn't punish when angry.

Vegas calls Pete a pet again. A pet is beneath a slave. He even mocks him with "who is a good boy"

Kinn says "I love you" about Porsche to his family first!! I also adore that Khun is not surprised.

I also adore how Kinn waited on Khun and let Khun manipulate Korn. Haha

The lovely bunch of coconuts with Arm being at the lead.

"I love him" 🥥 ohhhahhhhh.. Then them losing their shit on behalf of Porsche. Love it!

I wanna live at the safe house!!!

Pet again but Pete is smart. He knows that no matter what Vegas dishes. He can't eat from this animal dish or he will be a pet.

The talk between Porsche and Chay. So sweet. He wants his approval of Kinn. So sweet.

"You think you can choose not to eat" and Pete "I'm not choosing, I'm just not eating" Why did this piss of Vegas? Because Pete is making it clear that he isn't and wouldn't choose any of this.

Hence he calls him a pet again and loses his shit. Vegas is purposely hitting muscle not fat which with a belt hurts like a mother fucker. We know Pete can take the pain but your also more likely to get welting and burns. Ass, thighs, and breasts can tolerate the belt much better.

Notice that Pete actually showed his pain this time. That's not unusual at all and doesn't mean he isn't a masochist. Each masochist has certain pain they enjoy more and others that feel like pain. If you look at the previous pain given to Pete compared to this, you can spot the difference. Also keep in mind that Pete has had very little nourishment as well.

Vegas says "No fun" because Pete is actually hurting here.

Pete escapes and is immediately spotted by Vegas who makes a telling remark "so darn good, Head of the main family bodyguard" why does he repeat this if he doesn't take it personally. Are you starting to see it? He was personally hurt by Pete's loyalty to main family at the expense of him.

Did you notice that Vegas caught Pete, then him checking on him after stunning him.

Sweet Kinn and Porsche snuggle moment.

Mother in law!! 🤣🤣🤣☠️☠️☠️

Vages dad is a cunt.

Vegas is angry, upset, and tormented so where does he head? To Pete. Then watch his reaction. He loses his shit at Pete not being okay. This is not the reaction of a man who shot his slave point blank with no issues, or the one who liked Porsche but is willing to do what's necessary, and who likes his bodyguards but will use them as shields. All of those examples are people he has technically supposed to have known longer than Pete. Yet here he is freaking out. Calling him by name in this moment. Not pet and not main bodyguard but once again Pete.

Khun and Chay, this can't be good.

Pete comes to, to Vegas cleaning and caring for him. Look at how Vegas is looking at Pete. He has lost his anger. Everyone points to the scene after this one but this is the important scene. This is the scene that fixes what was broken.

Almost losing Pete has knocked the wind out of Vegas. He was blinded by anger but that shroud has now been removed.

But blink and you miss it, this is where Pete comes around too. He wasn't going to take that pill. Not because he is worried about poison but because he wants to die. Pete this entire time that he got caught, made peace with death and craves it. Why? I'm going to throw a theory at you, how would you feel if you betrayed someone you liked and they now hate you. Then Vegas puts the pill in his mouth and feeds it to Pete. Pete realizes that Vegas is no longer pissed. He reacts immediately. He reacts as a submissive, doesn't bite or anything else aggressive but swallows the pill and stares at Vegas. Watch from 40:40 and 40:41. The look shared between them says so much.

They share a look and then Vegas gently cradles Pete's head to give him water. At this point we see Pete staring at Vegas but this look is speculative.

Now comes the moment that everyone points to and says is meaningful. Look how sweet Pete is. Guys you gonna make me choke on vomit. Pete is not sweet, he is not sunshine, he doesn't see the best in everyone 🌈 Bitch please, Pete is a sadomastic killer who will torture you just like Vegas if you didn't pay a loan. He is not a good guy! This is not about finding redeeming qualities in one bad guy. This is about two bad guys finding redeeming qualities in each other.

Pete asks Vegas why he won't let him die and Vegas lies as usual. Oddly enough, Pete sees right through Vegas. He sees that Vegas is upset about something and what is it? Look at how Vegas looks at Pete in this moment. He knows that Pete can actually see him. He can read him. Pause at 42:56 and tell me that isn't a man looking at someone who means something to him.

Then Vegas starts actually speaking his truths. The value in this moment. Vegas recognizes that Pete can see him and therefore he might as well be honest.

Vegas knows so much about Pete but this proves that he has been seeing only what Pete shows. Oh, I think he sees more than that but this is his first time really realizing that Pete hasn't had it easy either. That Pete hides this part of himself and yet he chose to show it to Vegas.

Pete shares hos story and his wisdom. Vegas takes it in. He says nosy but Pete sees it for what it is and slightly smiles. Vegas didn't lie, or get angry, he made a very child like expression.

Vegas coming to Pete once again when upset. He stands there but immediately Pete gets up. There is no hesitant to get up and be there for Vegas. No hesitant to ask if he is okay. Once Vegas lost his anger, Pete changed too.

Look at Vegas' face at being asked if he is okay. He smiles. Pete asking if he is hurt, making sure he really isn't.

Here is manipulative Pete though. He knows he can not eat out of that pet bowl. He tells Vegas it's old, not fresh. So Vegas comes back with food he made. He is providing Pete food in a regular bowl with utensils. Sliding Pete straight past pet. Pete makes Vegas confirm that it is in fact for him. Then he freaks out about it being poisoned which we previously established, Pete isn't worried about. He doesn't fear death. But it pushes Vegas to try it and prove that it isn't poisoned. Which establishes Pete's importance. That he has importance enough to provide and care for in more ways than that of a slave. Pete maneuvered his submissive position. That smile Vegas gives, is him recognizing what Pete did.

We now know that Porsche got a mouth like a hoover vacuum. Mouth that can suck Kinn's balls through a hole and make him walk funny.

[kvothbloodless]

@iwillgotoheavenforyou asked for a summary of these, but i suck at summaries, so ill give each my best try (this is a lie) and then also link to their Actual summaries, because by god i will get more people to read these. If anyone reads these (or has already read them), Id love to chat about them.

@bookcub @logarithmicpanda tagging my only booklr mutuals because I Will force tumblr to make a fandom for these.

UNSONG: Extremely unique kabbala based urban fantasy web serial about the lead up to the apocolypse.

Setting best described as "what if the bible were Actually true in regards to angels and magic and shit, and then it stopped being real for a few thousand years, and then when we launched the first rocket into space we smashed into the divine machinary that made it all not real, so now angels and devils and magic is back." Exactly as unhunged as it sounds. Anticapitlist. ~250k word free web serial. On my top 10 list.

The Gods Are Bastards: A paladin, another paladin, a half demon, a drow, a pixie, a dryad, a princess, and a bard walk into a university...an apocolypse ensues.

Extremely in depth magic university web serial but like. The actual school part isnt the focus of the plot really. It focuses on a "great doom" which is approaching, and the way many important (and unimportant) people are preparing for this. Absolutely insane worldbuilding, like, cannot stress that the worlsbuilding is beyond incredible, and a massive cast of characters who are all fully fleshed out and feel complicated and compelling, many queer.

Setting is similar to the end of discworld, in terms of "high fantasy setting thats no longer high fantasy because now they have magic railroads and guns and shit", but im butchering that description. Has some of the best plot twists Ive ever read, amazing prose, hysterical, all around amazing. ~3 million word long free webserial, currently on hiatus. On my top 10 list. I cant actually find a good summary of it online, and I didnt want to link to one of the ones that seemed off to me, so Im just linking directly to the table of contents lol.

Valhalla: Local girl decides to punch things until her problems go away, nearly succeeds. 2,000 dead, 10,000 wounded.

Future Earth scifi (very) vaguely retelling of the Norse Mythology around the build up to ragnarok. Mostly an incredibly explicit action story (cannot stress enough how gory this series is.) MC joins a secret organizarion helping to keep the world from getting fucked, but like, not in the cliche way. Nice diversion from the norm aa shes not much of a planner and her main skill is hitting things really hard without dying. Everyone is gay.

Setting is Earth in the 2200s, with the usual "corporarions owm everything" but in a way thats like, actually explored. 3 book series by @the-walrus-squad. On my top 10 list.

Jacqueline Carey: Very tired bodyguard forced to travel to the other side of the world in order to shut up whiny cousin.

Local mutant girl decides to punch things until her problems and grief go away. Problems ensue.

Shes written multiple insanely good books, and i dint have time to summarize them all, but I would highly recommend Starless and Santa Olivia (and Kushiels Legacy if you havent. Kushiels legacy is beyond incredible, and dont be fooled by the shitty wikipedia and goodreads summary). All of her books are very queer. Starless is a long standalone, and Santa Olivia is a dualogy. Kushiels Legacy is 6 Long books. Kushiels Legacy is on my top 10 list, and the other two are just one category down.

The Starless Sea: Hey bro I heard you like stories so I put stories about stories in your story for you.

This one is fucking hard to describe, but its a story about stories and living in one. Vague non spoiler summaey is MC gets caught up in a secret society of those who love stories and books, and ends up going to another land, sort of. Not the Easiest to get through, since its very confusing at first, but the rereas value is Immense and all together its a fucking incredible story. I love the prose but it is fairly purply, just fyi. Queer MC. Standalone book. One category down from my top 10 list.

The One Who Eats Monsters: Twilight, but make it queer and also good.

Ive raved about this one before, but ill do so again here. Absolurrly insanely good lesbian romance about an edlritch monster forced into human form and bound by human laws (sort of) falling in love with a mortal girl, while tryung to protect her from a small supernatural conspiracy. The worldbuilding is Phenomenal, and the entire thing is just extremely fun to read. Only issue is that while it does mostly wrap things up it Very much leaves lots of room for a needed sequel, and the author appesrs to have disappeared off the face of the earth. (Currently) standalone book. One category down from my top 10 list. Summary isnt Great but itll do.

Nemesis: Local woman speedruns transition, accidentally ends up saving world.

Extremely fun superhero story about a closeted transwoman who accidentally becomes superman, which instantly transitions her. Book is split between dealing with transphobia, gender euphoria, and superhero plot stuff. Worldbuilding is about what youd expect from a random superhero story, but the focus is on the characters, and theyre Really well written. Two book series, with a third planned at some point. One category down from my top 10 list.

Greatcoats: Unhinged warrior's weird coat only thing standing between him and complete meltdown.

Hard to describe and somewhat meandering, but essentially the MC is the leader of an elite group of...solider judge diplomat espionage etc. who served the previous king, who was killed. Takes place in a pretty damn depressing world in terms of Bad Feudalism, and is about his struggles to do what he can to keep his Kings dream alive. Pretty fucked up, but Very compelling, lots of very food prose and characters. 4 book series. One category down from my top 10 list.

Ooo okay this looked fun. Gonna see whos read my favorite books/series which I never see on my dash, and which tragically seem to be almost completely off tumblrs radar

[onyourhyuck]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐊ᵃ𝐫𝐦𝐚. | Season 2

synopsis; park areum is a journalist who happens to get her life involved with the mafia leader war and havoc, lee jeno. areum’s brother was kidnapped by the japanese mafia na yuta and areum was able to successfully get jisung back— however with a price that she betrays lee jeno by selling out important information of his base whereabouts. it’s been a year ever since that day and areum happens to get involved in the mafia world again.

warning: mafia au/theme, thriller, action, romance, smut!!, lots of fighting here and mentions of blood, park areum is a bad bitch ykyk, dreamies are here for plot, love triangle!!!!, angst.. massive angst, death mentions of characters, alcohol mention, guns mention, switch!areum, switch Jeno!, rough kissing, gripping, degrading, praising, love scenes, unprotected seggs [wrap your willys sons pls, use it 😃], slowburn romance, prepare for a long ass ride.JEALOUSY, Exhibitionist scenes (almost caught etc) semi public scenes with sexual tension. PLOT TWISTS AND CLIFFHANGERS <3 THIS IS SEASON 2, CHECK SEASON 1 OUT BEFORE READING THIS SEASON PLSSSS.

PART 1 / 25 PART 2 LINK

╭──────────────────────────────────────╮

ever since that rainy day, a year passed quicker than light. areum started working at a large successful journalism company, jisung finishing college in the same year following. mina and him keeping their relationship long distance, however time to time they meet up.

as for areum, she was thriving in her dream career. no more mafia related stuff, areum can go out whenever and wherever she wishes to; what was there to miss?

areum shifts in her office, noticing her door opening. “ah, you’re back with my coffee?” areum said out loud to her assistant, eyes not moving from the screen, fingers typing at enormous speed. areum has a 40th deadline to finish, only reason why the girl gets so many projects is due to how good areum actually is.

it’s as if she was born to do this job. areum having both analytical and empathetic side to the job. most journalist can’t connect emotionally enough to provide such a detailed heart warming story and reports.

“yes miss park,” the assistant told. “come on, you can call me areum if you wish, drop the honorifics mark.” areum smiles. the boy stiffens, giving a nod.

“alright areum, if that’s what you want.” mark said, the beautiful woman would give a nod. “oh yeah thanks for the coffee again,” areum reaches to sip the warm liquid down the throat, humming in enjoyment.

exactly what she needed, coffee to wake up the sleep deprived areum away!

“oh yeah, miss park?” mark calls out suddenly remembering something— areum glances up to the boy. “you called me miss park again.” areum slightly teases. mark looks away flustered. “sorry i mean- mr ahn has a case for you, i forgot to tell you.” mark stammers, midway catching his voice.

the way areum looks at him always got him nervous. maybe it’s the fact that she’s his role model though? even though he’s older than her as well.

“oh yeah? i’ll check it out then. wish me luck for a jackpot case, i need something big big.” areum stood up grinning. the woman reaching for the coffee, she wore a white turtle neck to work today— along with a pair of light brown trousers, white sneakers and a golden jewellery necklace. the hair was swept back with neat brushing only. areum also would wear the journalist badge and ID card round the neck.

leaving her office, areum made way towards mr ahn’s office which was two minutes away literally. the woman knocks on the front door, a faint answer heard.

coming in, areum closing the door as she stood in front of her boss. the man smiles at the sight of seeing areum. “my ace! areum! my treasure, gosh, how lucky am i to have you work here.” he exclaims in compliments.

areum gives a small humble smile. “ah it’s nothing boss, anyways i heard a case was here for me? is it something big?” she bends forward to the desk, mr ahn would nod. “oh yeah so big, it’s a case no one was able to take because it’s really dangerous though.”

“i can handle it.” areum shot back quick. “I know that, which is why I’m giving it to you.” he replies passing the case file to the woman. her warm hands hold forward the board, flipping by the pages.

upon tracing the soft fingertips on the paper, the case was somewhat what areum expected. spying and documenting problems along the old city not too far off from here. areum hums. “what makes it hard, so far it’s easy looking?”

mr ahn would flip to the last page that areum wasn’t looking at, areum’s lips parting in shock. “a mafia case?!” she’d slowly shout. mr ahn nods. “yeah, people are scared to do this because it’s a mafia case.” he said sitting back down.

“in fact it’s also to do with that it’s lee jeno who you’re going to have to spy on and follow about. have you heard that the japanese and korean mafia groups at war? it’s only getting worse, so, all you’ll need to do is protect jeno’s image of the public eyes. show those japanese mafias to not mess with our gangs and stay out of our territory.”

areum was wondering if this is god punishing her; in fact it must be god punishing her. she was mafia-free for a whole year, why now? she would look down putting the paper board down. “i- can’t do-“

“I can do this.” areum quickly changes her words, faking her smile, internally she was screaming out loud, cursing the world in many different ways— none of them were pretty ways either.

mr ahn claps hands together. “of course you can, you’re park areum! the greatest journalist in the industry currently.”

areum hits the forehead flat on the steering wheel of her car, mumbling aloud to herself in the car. “mr ahn, i can’t do it…” she trails on the words, whining almost, it’s been two hours since she got the case and usually she would be finishing about four cases in these span of times; areum just can’t bring herself to look at the file case of lee jeno.

“did he curse me or something?” areum spat in frustration grabbing the files. “he must’ve done some black magic on me to keep getting involved in my life! there’s no way this is a stupid coincidence.” the young woman sighs throwing the file down.

her hand flicks on the car key, the engine roaring. areum looks behind as she’d hover back. “whatever, i have no choice if i want this big pay check.” she told herself. if she doesn’t get caught then he won’t know right? all areum has to do is not get caught.

considering the fact that it’s lee jeno, areum already knows it sounds way easier than it actually freaking looks. the man has some wired eyes behind his head where he can even see the stuff behind him happen, that is how good awareness he has.

but he surely can’t beat areum at her job right?

areum travels behind a small slum location, the area reeking of poverty, the sun not shining at all down this parts of the city. she wondered why here of all places?

when she glances back to the files flicking through it said often jeno spends his time in this area wondering about, and then suddenly disappears into thin air. this might honestly mean so many things.

either he has a hide out or, he is plainly good at hiding.

areum gets out of the car, a phone in her hand, voice recorder recording latching on the waistline. first place she would check out as the garage area since her car was parked here too.

comparing the car plates with the one jeno was last seen with multiple times, none were matching so far. areum sighs, “not matching, not matching..”

her voice lists in boredom, “nope, nope, not matching, not matching, matching-…” she pauses staring back to the picture on her phone and back to the car in front of her. areum looks around the parking lot before sneaking a tiny pic of the number plate.

“so he parks here.” areum murmurs, it was hidden pretty well which props to jeno. he has millions hunting him down it seems.

areum left the parking lot to explore the different shops, there weren’t many but some. she glances down to the little key chain plushies, noticing a cat and a dog separately.

the wind was breezy, areum wasn’t used to the cold weather around this part, because sunshine isn’t coming through here.

she grins, “i’ll take these two.” the old woman smiles nodding, areum buying those cute small chains. she thanks the woman before walking away, back on duty.

nothing was out of the ordinary yet. areum decided to go back inside her car where she would watch the area from there, this way no one would notice her in the process too.

the watching at stake would still be on, areum deciding to pull an all-nighter. she relaxes in the dark car, watching closely. finally noticing a few men approaching in the parking lot. areum shifts, those men seemingly hovering over jeno’s car.

“what are they doing…” areum mutters as her phone was on video, recording the scene from the car window. the two men quickly return to stand up, running off. she slowly comes out of the door, stopping the recording.

areum shifts about watching if they were coming back in which, she gathered no. the parking lot was literally blackness with only sign of light source being her phone flashlight mode. areum goes on fours trying to bend down to check the car.

“what are you looking at, pretty lady?” one man said. “shit.” areum mutters.

areum shifts on her feet pointing the light in their eyes. immediately blinding them. areum was the first one to run for it like her life depends on it.

the woman being chased across the parking lot. areum looks back tripping over a simple rock, she groans when the two men hover above, grabbing her by the hair roughly.

“you got lucky there.” the blonde boy hawks observing areum’s face. “yeah? watch me get lucky again.” areum retorts, he ended up being roughly jab hooked by areum’s phone. his face thudding in the air by the impact, she’d stand up to run again—

but that was stopped midway when a guy suddenly came rushing without areum’s knowledge. he held a tight grip behind areum, a knife stabbing thin layer of skin into the woman. she bit roughly on the bottom lip pulling away from the man by kneeling forward his crotch straight into her knee, and then when the boy fell on the ground, a foot kicking his face upwards breaking the nose apart.

“fuck,” areum softly gasps staring at the knife into the skin, the white turtle neck ripped apart. the girl held the knife tightly pulling it out. a small amount of blood gushing out. she’d drop the knife down into a plastic bag which she got in the inner pockets. evidence was key here. even if she was bleeding.

the woman was about to walk away until a rush of two more Japanese men yelling in foreign language came running down. areum holding the side where she bled with both hands, making eye contact with the dangerous men approaching forward.

“well what do you know, one of jeno’s soldiers is a woman. that’s new isn’t it?” one laughs amused to see a woman standing alive between two men twice the size of her. areum grits her teeth quietly. ‘how the fuck do i get out of here?’ she thinks.

the men were only to come closer cornering areum in the far darkness, a guy held tightly areum pinning forth on a car hood, areum gently screams kicking back the guy on the floor, but another guy immediately jumping on her to keep her down restrained, that was until a large gun shot heard.

areum blinks noticing the man above her bleed from within his mouth spillage next to her, luckily not on her. three more shots heard, three bodies dropped automatically. she sits up, going off the car hood. a man running in the distance of areum’s left side.

a shot heard.

the body fell immediately, going lifeless.

the man standing in middle of the parking lot with the gun aimed, cold gazing eyes that seemed so familiar yet so unfamiliar. areum felt breathing hitch as her body leans off, immediately running away.

the moment jeno’s face was in front of her, areum knew she can’t face him. the rush of emotions from that day brining itself back, manifesting all sorts of memories from last year— memories she wishes to forget.

feeling the body stop, legs were giving up, going on the knees. areum curses , why now? why now! those words ran a marathon in her brain. heart racing quickly hearing those heavy footsteps coming quickly. she’d hiss, trying to get back up, only to fall down. this time permanently.

brain felt dizzy as it spun incredibly. eyes felt both sleep deprived and weak, they closed the instantly areum fell on the ground, collapsing side front. the only warm sensation she felt that burned like hell would be the stab wound bleeding endlessly.

everything else felt so cold. body felt cold like it was dying out on areum, was she dying? was this how areum was going to end?

she didn’t know if this was the last breathe she’ll ever take.

her eyes were shut, but other senses were still working; ears perk to the distant large explosion. why did she feel two warm hands holding her though? those endless questions not able to be answered as areum, in fact, was accepting her death in that very thin moment.

────────────────────────

MASTERLIST OF HIS KARMA

@onyourhyuck please refer from copyrighting and plagiarising my work! REBLOG, SHARE AND LIKE THIS TO SEE MORE CONTENT OF THIS.

[ragingbookdragon]

Love Bites (But So Do I) PT. 2

Justice League x Reader One-shot

Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Aye, we're back with another Skyrim!Reader fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It’d been close to a year since she’d joined the Justice League, and though the original members were a tightknit group, they’d welcomed her with open arms. Some of them were still wary about her, but for the most part, she was doing well within their ranks, especially when it came to being around Bruce or Hal. Given her longevity, she’d seen men like them before, known how to get along with them. Bruce she could meet on equal footing, Hal was simply a man that had to be shown who was in charge; it didn’t take much to make Hal crack under her authority, and in mere days, she had him wrapped around her fingers—Bruce too, but he’d never outright admit it to her face, or anyone else’s, even if a gun was put to his head.

She didn’t particularly fight much when they went on missions, preferring to be backup as well as their combat medic, a job she did well. She’d sewn up most of them without a blink of an eye, and while the first time she sewed Bruce’s wounds up, Clark and Diana stood beside to watch in case she tried to feed, they quickly learned, not only through her own comment but also his, that she wasn’t going to harm anyone.

Barry liked her. Or at least he enjoyed speaking with her. He found her ten thousand years of experience interesting, the history of her life, the survival of it. They’d spent hours talking about the past, hers and his from going back in time often. She enjoyed puzzling the poor scientist with magic. Barry wasn’t one to follow the whole “It’s magic” sermon; he wanted scientific evidence, hypothesis and experiments to prove how sparks, fire, and frost flowed from her fingertips like water. How natural it was for her as if it were like breathing.

She liked Barry. Liked to help him through personal issues. Her many years had given her experience in most subjects of life. Spurned lovers, betrayal of friends, death, life, all of it. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t help with, the League had come to find out. Sometimes, she even helped, and she didn’t even realize it.

***

It was one of the routine meetings for the month; she sat next between Diana and Hal, trying to focus on the words coming out of Bruce’s mouth but all she could hear was the quiet rumbling coming beneath them. What was she hearing? A broken pipe in the ceiling? Air hissing from a crack in a window, perhaps? No, it seemed to be coming from the table. But what was it? Nothing was shaking the foundation. What—

“(Y/N), is something wrong?”

She cocked her head up, realizing she’d pressed her face to the table in hopes she could listen closer to the noise; clearing her throat, she felt the eyes of the group on her. “Apologies,” she excused. “There’s…there is something I keep hearing under your voice. It’s…distracting.”

Her eyes found Clark’s. “Listen for a moment and see if you can hear it.”

They waited, everyone holding their breath, and when the rumbling came again, her eyes widened. “See! That! What is that!”

Clark held his hand up to say wait and she fell silent, letting him listen of for a few more moments, and then he cracked a smile and laughed.

“What? Why are you laughing?” she questioned. “What is it?”

“It’s Barry’s stomach,” he chuckled, nodding at the Speedster who suddenly flushed.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know you guys could hear it.” He laughed nervously. “It’s past my usual snack time so I’m really hungry.”

“I’ve got you,” Hal replied, digging in his bomber pocket to pull out a candy bar. “Snickers?”

“Ooo!” Barry chirped, taking it from him with a, “Thank you. I forgot to pack snacks when I left the house today.”

“Bar, one day, you’re gonna keel over from hunger because you forget. I swear, your memory is just as bad as your lateness.”

“God, don’t remind me,” Barry snickered.

(Y/N) hummed, eyes lingering on Barry for a moment before she turned to Bruce. “Sorry for the interruption. Please, continue.”

Bruce didn’t skip a beat, but she kept the thought of Barry in the back of her mind.

***

A couple hours later, the meeting had ended, and she caught up with Barry and Hal as they left. “Barry, a moment of your time, please? There’s something I wish to discuss with you.”

Hal waved the two off and continued to the Zeta tubes, leaving them and Barry smiled, “What’s up, (Y/N)?”

“How often do you eat?”

Hello left field with that question.

“I—what?”

“Consuming sustenance,” she reiterated. “How often do you do it?”

Barry shuffled on his feet, scratching at the back of his head. “Well…my metabolism burns through food like Hal does jet fuel.” He saw her cocked eyebrow and unimpressed look and immediately said, “I need to eat roughly 4.8 million calories a day.”

Her eyes went wide and for a moment she simply gaped at him, then she recovered and shook her head. “Divines, you eat a lot of food.”

“Yeah,” Barry chuckled. “Only downside of being a Speedster besides seeing the world in slow motion.”

“Forensic scientists make between forty and one-hundred-thousand a year. Is it possible for you to afford the nutrition you need to adequately feed yourself?”

Just like that, she hit a sore spot because Barry stilled, a remarkable feat, and his cheeks tinted red; she heard the stutter in his heart rate, noted the way he looked around uncomfortably. “I…Bruce…helps me sometimes.” He shifted nervously. “High calorie protein bars are the easiest to manufacture in massive quantities. I need them most nights.”

“So, you can’t afford the amount of food you need?” (Y/N) hummed, eyes narrowing as she brought her hand to her face, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “I’m going home for the evening,” she suddenly blurted out. “Come back here tomorrow around the same time. I’ll have something for you that will help with your food shortage.”

As she walked off, Barry grabbed her arm, pleading, “Wait, (Y/N), don’t. I can’t take money from you.”

“I never said anything about money,” she corrected, removing his arm. “I merely said for you to come back, and I’ll have something for you.” She winked. “Relax Barry. I’m not going to tell the world your secrets.”

***

He stood in the center of the area where he was supposed to meet (Y/N), had been standing there for an hour, but then again, she was only fifteen minutes late and he forty-five minutes early. Barry glanced at his watch when a buzzing started in his pocket; he pulled his phone out and saw her caller ID, lifting it to his ear. “Hello?”

Barry! Sorry for calling late. That thing I’m looking for is taking a bit longer than I expected it to. Do you think you could come to my home in Gotham? I’ve already called ahead and let Bruce know you’d be in city limits.

“Oh, yeah,” he answered. “I’ll be right there.”

Good! Travel safely!

It’d taken him all of ten seconds to get from the Watchtower to her house and Barry almost shit his pants when he saw it. It reminded him of Hagrid’s house but slightly wider and with multiple conjoined buildings to it. He walked up to the front door, hyping himself up to grab the brass doorknocker that resembled a demonic skull. When he knocked on the door, nothing happened, then the locks flipped and it opened, creaking on its hinges like a cheap eighty’s horror film, but it did the trick because Barry was scared out of his mind when all he saw was a darkened room lit up only by a candle holder on a table in the middle.

“I’m in the back!” a voice called from inside. “Fang is coming to greet you! He’s bringing Nevermore!”

Nevermore was the bird. He remembered that one, but who was Fang?

His question was answer by a giant mastiff came bounding from an opening to the hallway and Barry almost jumped a foot in the air; it looked terrifying, but he merely whined and shoved his head into Barry’s palm, waiting to be scratched behind his ears.

He relented, giving Fang a good ear-scratch, and smiled as Nevermore hopped up his arm to sit on his shoulder.

“Hungry!” he croaked. “Want snacks!”

Barry dug around in his pocket, finding a half-eaten granola bar. “Granola?” he offered, holding up a piece and Nevermore swiped it with a quick snap of his beak.

“Come in!”

“(Y/N), where are you?”

“In the back!” she called. “I told you that already!”

“I meant where!” Barry laughed, coming to the hallway. It split down two sides, one going to the right the other left. The right opened to what looked like a studio. The left went down and had two doors on the wall, what were bedrooms, and at the end of the hall was a study.

“Bedroom!” she answered, and Barry walked down the left, stopping at the second door that was creaked open.

He saw (Y/N) laying over her bed, digging for something on the opposite side away from him. “(Y/N)?”

“Come in,” she said, listening to him walk around to see her. “I forgot I shoved this underneath her a long time ago when I was cleaning things out.”

“How long is a long time ago?”

“Hmm…American Revolution? Give or take a decade or so?” she waved it off, pulling out what looked like an antique drawstring bag, about the size of a dinner plate; she held it up and patted the bed beside her with her free hand. “This is going to solve all your food problems,” (Y/N) announced, watching him sit down.

“Uh…how so?”

She placed it in his lap. “Think of your absolute favorite snack food. Chips or cookies or something.”

He did.

“Now…reach into the bag and pull it out.”

Barry’s brows furrowed as he reached in the bag, and she knew he’d found them because his eyes went wide, and he pulled out a snack pack of cookies. “What the—”

“Magic food purse,” (Y/N) explained. “Found it one day when I was exploring.” She took it back and reached into it, pulling out a thin tray of expertly wrapped sushi. “It’s really helpful when you’re traveling and can’t carry massive amounts of food around with you.”

Barry watched her pop one in her mouth; he knew damn well that sushi wasn’t in there when he reached inside. He swiped the bag from her and opened it, peering inside, but all he saw was a dark, stretching expanse. “That’s not possible,” he breathed. “There’s nothing in here.”

“It’s magic,” (Y/N) snorted, reaching in to pull out a frosted chocolate cupcake. “Anything you can imagine eating or drinking? It will come out.”

“That’s not scientifically possible!” Barry stressed, trying to shove his head into the bag. There had to be some gimmick to it. A transporter! Something!

“Why is it so hard for you to accept that some things in this universe can’t be explained by science?” she stared at him. “For Divines’ sake, Barry, your best friend is a man who wields a magic ring. You run faster than the speed of light.”

“There’s science behind some of that!”

“Not much.”

“But there is science! Here—there’s nothing!” Barry was having a crisis. “I don’t know how this works. I don’t understand.”

(Y/N) smiled and folded the bag up, gently stowing it in Barry’s jacket pocket. “It’s not about understanding, Barry, it’s about accepting that there are some things you won’t ever understand.” Her eyes crinkled at the edges. “That bag will never run out of magic. You can think all the food and drinks into existence and never run out of food again.”

She reached up and cupped his cheek. “No more high calorie meal bars unless you have to eat them. No more worrying about putting money aside to make sure you have enough to eat. No more relying on others to keep yourself from going hungry.” (Y/N) whispered comfortingly, “No more fear. No more worries.”

Barry felt the lump rise in his throat. He’d never admitted it, not even to Hal, but he worried constantly about keeping fed. Worried that money wouldn’t come in, that he’d go hungry, that something worse would happen. All the nights he’d laid in bed and had to roll over on an empty stomach because he couldn’t afford to buy more or eat what he’d planned for tomorrow then. All the skipping meals, all the exhaustion, all the worry. Gone in moments.

He felt her thumb under his eye, and he looked into her umber ones, seeing her smile softly as she wiped away another tear. She didn’t say anything, merely gazing at him and Barry leaned into her palm, reaching up to cup her hand closer to his cheek. “Thank you,” he managed through the lump in his throat. “I don’t know how to repay you for—”

“Shhh,” (Y/N) hushed, pressing her thumb to his lips. “There’s nothing to repay anyone for. I did this for you, Barry, not so you’d owe me.” She pulled away from him and rose from the bed, looking back. “Now, if you’d like a moment to yourself, I understand. But I was planning on making dinner. Would you like to stay the night?”

“You don’t mind?” Barry asked. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

She glanced over her shoulder with a wink, flashing those pretty white fangs in a smile as she flirted, “Stay all you want, Barry. I won’t bite…yet.” She left Barry in the room, heart pounding in his chest, but not from fear—from excitement and anticipation.

[gohyuck]

the purge: society

pairing: firefighter!san x reader

genre: purge au, angst, some fluff

warnings: mentions of violence (especially violence against cops), murder, blood, injury, weapons (guns, knives, metal baseball bats)

word count: 2.4k

note: this was originally meant to be a drabble and it’s still pretty short so i didn’t get to elaborate on the characters but honestly maybe i’ll explore a purge universe with ateez someday because this was fun (i’ve never watched any of the movies though so i’ll have to get on that)

“What the fuck?” 

He hadn’t expected to see anyone left alive on this street.

“Shut up and get down,” You hiss, reaching your good arm up to grab onto the man’s jacket collar before unceremoniously pulling him towards you. He stumbles, falling gracelessly onto you. A scream bubbles up in your throat as he accidentally puts pressure onto your already free-bleeding bicep, but you get ahold of yourself just in time, only letting the quietest of wounded moans escape you. 

“You’re the first person that hasn’t tried to kill me before talking to me all night - oh, shit,” The stranger trails off, swearing when you effectively stop him from speaking further by placing your switchblade right under his skin. It’s only then that he even pauses to take you in: your back is up by the police car door, sure, and your left arm has a massive gash in it, but you’re armed. There’s a pistol laying idly in your lap, kept company by a metal baseball bat. 

Not to mention, the knife at his neck. 

“What the hell are you doing, walking around unarmed and with a first aid kit? Also, how the hell are you unarmed and with just a first aid kit? What the fuck?” You let the questions out in a rapidfire fashion, and he can’t help but clock the slight rasp in your voice. It’s easier to recognize than the pained wheeze you’re trying very, very hard to suppress, but neither escape him. He’s trained to notice the little things, anyways. 

“You need to bandage that shit up,” The man ignores your questions, moving his head just enough to miss your blade but also enough to be able to look you in the eyes. “How long has it been bleeding?”

“That’s none of your business,” You grit out. “Answer my questions or I’ll kill you right here and now.”

“If I answer yours, will you answer mine?” For some reason, he doesn’t seem to be panicking just yet. His gaze is sincere, but it’s too solid to be that of a bona fide idiot. You suck in a breath of air. Threatening him would be so much easier if he didn’t seem like a nice guy. It’s hard enough to live through the night, you don’t need guilt on your hands, and you know you’re going to feel guilty when you kill him. And you will kill him.

You need that first aid kit. You’ll do anything for it.

Anything, starting off with lying. 

“Sure,” You reply, steeling yourself for any sudden movements he might make now that you’re faking amicability. Maybe he’ll believe you to be vulnerable and try for your pistol or your bat, or maybe he’ll be properly cruel and finish off your arm. You don’t want to think about it. He lets out a sigh of relief, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve actually affected him after all. “Now speak.”

“Not unarmed, there’s a police-issue pistol in my jacket and a tactical knife in my jeans. I’m not totally nuts. First aid kit’s for my buddy, though, I’ll be real, you need it way more than him.” There’s something resembling concern in his expression as his eyes flit between your torn arm and your face, but that barely interests you. You haven’t truly registered anything after ‘police-issue’.

You lean in, pressing the edge of your knife against the skin directly above his adam’s apple. For the first time since you’d cornered him, your mystery purger’s breath hitches. His eyebrows draw together in confusion. It’s no matter. You no longer regret the fact that you’ll have to tear his jugular out yourself. 

“You’re a hog, huh,” You stare him down, any sympathy you might’ve had gone. For a moment, it seems as if he has no concept of what you’re saying. A second passes, though, and his gaze clears. 

“Firefighter,” He responds, though the word is garbled due to him attempting to keep his movements to a minimum. You pull back slightly, very slightly, to let him explain. “I… found a dead cop, jacked his pistol. I’ll show you my ID, if you want.” 

“Let me see it.” You nod your head at him as if giving him permission to live a little longer, though you both know full well that identity theft and identity fabrication are legal, too. Might as well see how much effort he puts into a fake. The man waits until you pull back just a bit more, enough to let him slowly reach his hand into his back pocket before producing a lanyard. 

You grab it out of his grip with your hurt arm, not willing to move your knife too far away from his throat. You simply don’t have a good enough read on - you glance down - San Choi, ACT Firefighter, Employee ID: 018-102-4 to allow yourself any leeway with him. 

His gently smiling face stares up at you from the plastic card, protected only by a clear sleeve connected to a red lanyard. San’s photo has black hair and an undercut, styled so his forehead is on display. A pair of dimples makes a guest appearance, and, overall, he seems like a genuinely sweet guy. The ID looks real, too, so maybe you aren’t totally fucked. 

The San under your knife has bleach blond hair that almost falls over his eyes, though you suppose you can’t blame him for skipping out on the hair product tonight. He seems slightly tanner than his photo, his skin beautiful even now as dust from the aftermath of the explosion starts to settle against it. 

Right. The explosion. 

Recalling the events leading up to you meeting San forces you to remember that you have a gaping, bloody gash in your left arm. You’re honestly lucky to be alive, having ducked and used the car you’re against for cover from flying debris after a building down the block had exploded. You’d just finished driving your knife into a cop’s side - third cop of the night, eighth of your career as a purge cop killer - to make sure that he was dead when you’d heard the bomb go off, and you’d dropped before even thinking about it. Something had hit your arm on the way down, and when the adrenaline had finally left your system, you’d taken note of your blood-soaked sleeve. 

You’d closed the car door after that, sealing your third murder of the night in the vehicle just so you could lean up against the door. It had been 6:31 in the morning then, and you had figured that someone would come by and kill you in the last moments before legality ensued again. You’d assumed that you’d fight, of course you would, but your arm being totally fucked definitely put a damper on your belief in your ability to overcome anyone or anything else. 

Instead of the disgruntled, trigger-happy purger you’d expected to eventually find, though, you’d been found by San Choi. San Choi, who’s currently staring at your wounded arm like it’s grown eyes and can stare back. 

“Come on, let me fix it up,” He pleads, lifting the kit up with the hand that’s farther from you. “You might not trust me, or whatever, but the purge is about to end as it is. I have a paramedic friend, Seonghwa, who’s taught me the basics of -”

“Shut the fuck up.” You tell him, though you’re quickly losing your bite. He obeys regardless. God, your arm really, really fucking hurts. Before pulling your knife back, you check the watch on your wrist. 6:47. Stay alive for 13 more minutes, 780 more seconds. You’ll be fine. You take the shakiest breath you’ve ever taken. 

You pull your knife away from him. 

Nothing happens. 

“I’m going to use an alcohol free wipe and then wrap gauze around your arm, okay? You’ll just have to hold out until we can get you to a working hospital after that,” San speaks as if he’s talking to a child, or a scared animal, and you can’t blame him. He doesn’t seem like a purger, but you technically are one. You wouldn’t put it past yourself to attack on a whim if you were him. He, very slowly and with his hands in your full view at all times, opens the kit and pulls out the requisite materials. 

“Gonna need you to rip your sleeve off above the cut.” He continues, leaning back as you bring your knife up to your clothes and slit the cloth right above your wound. You tear the remainder of the sleeve off your arm before throwing it behind you somewhere. San gently grabs ahold of your elbow - his palm is calloused in a way that tells you he lifts regularly, and you’re sure of this as he discards his jacket and you watch the muscles ripple in his arms under his thin black shirt - and places the wipe against your cut. 

Your reaction is instantaneous: now that you’re completely past the adrenaline stage, the feeling of something, anything against the gash has you reeling to cry out. Before you can even process that you’ve made a sound, a hand presses hard against the back of your head, shoving your mouth against San’s. 

He doesn’t know how else to shut you up. 

His lips are chapped, but the sensation of being kissed so suddenly jars you out of your pain. San attempts to pull back, and you can already feel the apologetic wince he’s about to give you, but he brushes over your wound with the wipe again and your pain doubles back. It’s you that pulls him in this time, pressing your lips to his sloppily but forcefully as if it’ll alleviate the burn in your arm. 

Kissing him only slightly muffles you at best, but you no longer care. The purge isn’t over yet. You could both die at any second. Hell, San could kill you at any second. His hand moves from the back of your head to cup your face as he leans in towards you to deepen the kiss. His lips are chapped, yes, but they’re soft. He tastes like mint and copper: there’s a cut in his lower lip. You don’t mind. 

San pulls away for a moment, but only does so to grab the gauze from the kit. Once he’s wrapped it around your arm once, twice, thrice, he leans back in and your mouth accepts his own eagerly, your other hand coming up to drape over his shoulder. Neither of you know why you’re doing this, kissing a stranger with such fervor as one of you bandages the other up, but you both know that there’s really nothing else to do. 

It’s only after he finishes taping you up that the two of you pull away fully. His eyes are still just as kind as you’d thought them to be at first, though his lips are far more swollen than they’d been mere minutes prior. You admire your handiwork, eyes tracing his features as he admires his own, thumb very, very gently running over your gauze. Both of you raise your heads to smile sheepishly at each other at the exact same time.

Three things happen in rapid succession. 

“Good?” San’s voice is barely above a whisper, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Just as you’re about to speak - 

“San!” A voice, low and hoarse, interrupts you, and you look up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at the space between your eyes. You’re frozen in place for a split second before you start reaching for your own pistol. Your fingers brush the grip when - 

The clock strikes seven, and sirens go off all around you, signalling the end of the purge. 

The gun is out of your face. Your hand moves off of your own.

“San,” The owner of the gun pays you no mind, suddenly, his entire focus on San. The gun-owner reaches a hand out, and the firefighter beside you takes it, allowing himself to get pulled up to his feet. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, Yunho, I’m totally good,” San responds, giving the taller man a cat-like grin of reassurance. Yunho’s got a fireman’s helmet on, and you suppose it’s good as protection. He must be a fellow firefighter, then. He’s tall, and though he’d seemed nothing short of severe mere moments ago, he seems softer, kinder now that the purge is over. The transformation is enough to give you whiplash. His right hand is wrapped in bandages, and this catches San’s sight at the same time it catches your own. “What the hell happened to you, though?” 

“That policeman you killed had buddies,” Yunho replies with ease, but you don’t miss San’s wince. Seems like he hadn’t just happened upon that police-issue pistol. You can’t help the small grin that fights to make its way across your face. “They tried to get into the station, we had to fortify ourselves. We’re mostly fine, just that Woo’s lost a finger. He’ll live once he stops whining about it. We were mostly worried about you, honestly, taking fucking forever just to find a first aid kit. Who’s this?”

Yunho moves the topic of conversation over to you so naturally that you barely even realize what has happened before San is reaching a hand out to you to pull you up to a standing position. You grab ahold of your pistol, though you shove the bat off your lap before allowing yourself to be brought up. Without thinking, you practically plaster yourself to San’s side. Now that he’s for sure what he told you he was, and now that you’re no longer in danger of dying, you can’t help but feel inexplicably connected to him even though neither of you know each other. San wraps an arm around your waist naturally, and neither of you miss Yunho’s eyebrow raise. Neither of you acknowledge it, either. 

“This?” San asks rhetorically, turning his head slightly to look at you. He’s smiling again, and you find that you want to see it more often. Maybe you’re experiencing the onset of delirium. You hope not. “This is…” 

“(Name),” You reply, being honest. There’s no need for you to lie. Besides, you owe San answers, right? You stick your uninjured arm out, letting Yunho shake your hand. San’s grip tightens around your waist. 

“I’m (Name).”

[nagitokomaedapizzasuitarchive]

please talk about syo or komaru or syomaru for the ask game, your takes are always so correct ( ˊ u ` )b

WAAA THANK YOU.. ;; /pos I will do all of them tbh... just give me a minute so I can make them separate posts (this one is so, so long as-is). In the meantime:

Syomaru

[click here for ask game link]

When I started shipping them:

Same time as Tokomaru. Tokosyomaru has always been a package ship 4 me. With that explained; this frame from UDG is what I credit as the straw that broke the camel's back (apologies 4 the yt screenshot I just can't be bothered to try and get a new one myself):

[ID: A YouTube screenshot of the cutscene that occurs after defeating the giant Monokuma final boss of Ultra Despair Girls. Toko Fukawa is holding Komaru Naegi by the waist, who is in-turn holding her megaphone gun in a partially ready position. Toko is to the right of Komaru, and they both have angry expressions on their faces. There is a red background with action lines on both the left and right of Komaru and Toko. End ID]

If I told you Syomaru blogger sho-fukawa spent up until the final boss fight of UDG telling themself they wouldn't ship the Fukawas with Komaru would you believe me? Bc that was my experience AJNDJNKGK-

My thoughts:

Rabies Pride catgirl (Syo) x Rabiosexual (Komaru) /j

UJADNIGNSJK joking aside it's soooo hard to articulate my thoughts on these 2 they're just a massive comfort ship 4 me... They can have such a wonderful, supportive relationship 'nd I like 2 think they lean on each-other a lot when Syo fronts. Soft kisses 'nd cuddles and whatnot. <3

What makes me happy about them:

Projection stuffs primarily? Very much love thoughts abt Syo being protective over Komaru (I have sooo many animation ideas when it comes to that one confrontation scene w/ Nagito I am not kidding I have Syomaru disease), and Komaru bringing out more of Syo than their "serial killer w/ jokes" exterior or w/e I kinda forgor canon. /lh

Oh also and in non-personal thoughts I think this is forever the screenshot of all time:

[ID: A screenshot of Komaru Naegi and Syo Fukawa, taken from the Danganronpa 3 anime. Syo, who is on the right, is holding Komaru's hands up and smiling with their eyes closed to the camera. Komaru seems to be whining, mouth open yet frowning with her eyes closed. End ID.]

What makes me sad about them:

Barely any time together in the source media. I will forever complain about how Syo & Toko's DID in general is just used as a punchline in Danganronpa, and how underutilized & underdeveloped that ends up leaving Syo. Also correct me if I'm wrong (it's been a minute since I've played through UDG), but that also leads Komaru to be written as not rlly distinguishing between Syo or Toko. :( TLDR: I haven't and never will trust the writers. <3

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

Poor Syo writing 10000%, usually when people stick wayyyy too much to the "hyperactive serial killer" part of it. I don't have strong opinions on Syo being written still as a murderer like in canon, some people don't want to rewrite the canon whatever that's probably just a me-preference (if interested I can make a post talking abt my Syo headcanon thoughts later since I don't think I've ever talked abt it), but it is soooo annoying when people still leave them one-dimensional. I don't caareee if you think 1000 lines of "KYEHEHEHE" is in character you literally are not writing them with any emotions they're a flat cardboard stand that's spouting profanities. PLEASE just write Syo more like an actual individual.

Things I look for in fanfic:

If the last bullet point didn't make it obvious; good Syo writing. In general I'm not too picky with fanfic? I avoid coffee shop AUs & such and try to find works that aren't 200 words written out of character (no shade 2 new fanfic authors it's just hard 2 read), but that's not rlly specific to Syomaru. If I had to pick at my own interests: Stuff where they're protecting or caring for eachother in Towa City. Lot of material you can get out of that + I'm a sucker for one character being protective over another in a tense situation.

ALSO write Syo being soft or purring I am holding fanfic authors at gunpoint. /j But seriously Syo is all bark and no bite; they can dish out joking aggression and still be soft.

My wishlist:

No clue what OP meant with this bullet point tbh AJSDNJKSFGN. Oooo I need Syomaru plushies ooooo- /hj

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Not Men™. Also I am very much uncomfortable with Syo x So//nia personally. Other than that I don't have many strong feelings.

Picking from my polyship w/ them, my alternatives would be Syo x Kyoko and Komaru x Miu x Kaede ??? Komaru's is much more "I have no reason for this other than I think it sounds super cool" but I am a secret sucker for Toko/ Syo x Kyoko, I think it could be an interesting dynamic depending on how you play it out. A win for nblw everywhere.

My happily ever after for them:

(Post-Despair) Komaru helps Syo get a more positive relationship with the other survivors of THH, also very-specifically helping Syo be on more amicable terms w/ Byakuya and Nagito, two people who they're probably not gonna ever fully be alright around. Syo & Komaru mostly just live on their own: maybe being visited a lot by Makoto & Kyoko (this thought lying in a Naegiri universe) and potential children those two might have after the world settles to more of a normal; allowing Syo another close bond with someone. Ignoring whatever work they may have, they would mostly spend their days with each other, cuddling in silence or trying to work on some sort of project together. Sometimes Komaru will leave Syo home alone so she can visit Makoto, but she usually will bring Syo with if possible since Syo doesn't get to front as frequently as Toko. I hope that all makes sense.

[nickjunesource]

Full article below.

Max Minghella is sitting in his backyard in the LA sunshine, his t-shirt an homage to the French filmmaker Mia Hansen-Løve, his adopted shepherd mix, Rhye, excited by the approach of a package courier.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks — the dog, not me — tenderly.

Minghella, who at 35 has dozens of screen credits to his name, is best known as The Handmaid’s Tale’s cunning chauffeur Nick Blaine, a character who it’s difficult to imagine saying sweetheart. In airless Gilead, of course, a cautious hand graze with Elisabeth Moss’ June can pass for a big romantic gesture. In a Season 1 episode featuring child separation and hospital infant abduction, Nick’s major contribution is to trade stolen glances with a sex slave while “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” pumps discordantly along. I ask Minghella about playing the series’ closest approximation to a dreamy male lead against the show’s dark narrative of female subjugation.

“I know this is not the answer you want to hear,” Minghella says with none of Nick’s hesitation. “But I like that stuff, right? In the pilot, I think Nick only had a handful of lines. It wasn't clear that this is what the character would turn into. And it's quite fortunate for me personally, because I'm not a massively sort of intellectual person in my real life. I love Fifty Shades of Grey. That's like my Star Wars. It suits me to play a character like him.”

Minghella surmises that this enduring romanticism is an outcome of nurture. His father, the late British director Anthony Minghella, made grand romantic dramas like Cold Mountain and The English Patient. And there was the young, cinema-mad Max sitting on the living room sofa, absorbing everything. “It’s taken me a long time to understand this,” he says of his prolonged childhood exposure to love stories. “My dad made The English Patient when I was 10. So it was two years of watching the dailies to that movie and then watching 50 cuts of it. And then [The Talented Mr.] Ripley he made when I was 13, and it was the same thing.” These were an adolescent Max Minghella’s alternative to reruns. “I think they did shape my perspective on the world in a lot of ways, specifically The English Patient. That was a complicated love story, and I wonder sometimes how much it's affected my psychology.”

Some sons rebel; others resemble. Minghella’s co-star O-T Fagbenle, who plays June’s other lover from before the time of Gilead, got his first job acting in Anthony Minghella’s romantic crime film Breaking and Entering. “Anthony is one the kindest, most beautiful men that I've ever had the privilege of working with before,” Fagbenle says. “And Max has his gorgeous, sensitive, open-minded soul.”

Though Minghella spent his childhood on the set of The Talented Mr. Ripley, playing an uncredited Confederate soldier role in Cold Mountain, and tooling around with a Super-8 camera Matt Damon gave him, he insists his upbringing was normal. He grew up in South Hill Park overlooking Hampstead Heath in London with his father and mother, the choreographer Carolyn Choa. (Minghella also has a half-sister, Hannah Minghella, who is now a film executive.) Yes, technically, it was London, but that’s not how it seemed. “I feel like I grew up in a very small town. Every school I went to was in Hampstead. I was born in Hampstead,” Minghella says of the small map dot of his life before university. “When I went to New York, I felt I was going to the big city.”

Despite his illustrious surname, movie-watching was far from restricted to the classics. “Beverly Hills Cop is definitely the movie I remember having an unhealthy obsession with. I think I saw it when I was 5 for the first time, and I'd watch it just two or three times a day for years. I'm just obsessed with it.”

Plenty of actors can trace their love of movies back to a love of stories, but for Minghella the relationship seems to flow in reverse. When he left for Columbia University, Minghella opted to study history for its connection, through storytelling, to film. It was during the summers between his years of college that he started taking acting more seriously. Before his graduation, he’d already appeared in Syriana, starring Damon and George Clooney. Soon, he’d make a splash as Divya Narendra in The Social Network in 2010 and be cast in Clooney’s Ides of March. As all young actors eventually must, Minghella moved to Los Angeles.

It’s been over a decade since he last lived on the Heath, but, perhaps unusually for a person who’s chosen his profession, Minghella is adamantly not a “shapeshifter,” in his words. Home for Christmas this year, he started sifting through old journals stored at his mother’s house, “just like scraps of writing from when I was extremely young up through my teenage years,” before coming to America. “It was hilarious to me,” Minghella says of staring at his childhood reflection. “My review of a movie at 7 years old is pretty much what my review of a movie at 35 will be. My taste hasn't changed much. And when I sort of love something, I do tend to continue to love it.”

Which brings us back to his enduring love of romance, born of his bloodline, which is all over Minghella’s own 2018 directorial debut. Teen Spirit is a hazily lit film about a teenage girl from the Isle of Wight — the remote British island where Max’s father Anthony was born — who enters a local X-Factor-style singing competition. (It stars Minghella’s rumored girlfriend of several years, Elle Fanning.) The story is small, but its crescendos are epic.

Minghella calls the movie — an ode to the power of the pop anthem — “embarrassingly Max.” Max loves a good music-driven movie trailer — he’s watched the one for Top Gun: Maverick “many” times. And Max loves the rhythmic beats of sports movies like Friday Night Lights. Max loves movies with excesses of female energy, like Spring Breakers. He likens Teen Spirit to an experiment, his answer to the question, “Can I take all these things that I love and find a structure that can hold them?” The result is a touching “hodgepodge” of Minghella’s fascinations, inspired by the songs from another thing he loves: Robyn’s 2010 album Body Talk (itself a dance-pop meditation on love).

Minghella hasn’t directed any films since, but he sees now how making movies fits his personality — organized, impatient — more organically than starring in them does. Directing also helped him to appreciate that acting is “much harder than I was giving it credit for,” which, in turn, has made him like it more. Besides The Handmaid’s Tale currently airing on Hulu, Minghella appears in Spiral, the ninth installment in the Saw horror franchise and, from where I’m sitting, at least, a departure.

“I do like horror movies, but the thing that was really kind of magical is that I was feeling so nostalgic, right? We talked about Beverly Hills Cop earlier. I was just missing a certain kind of movie,” Minghella explains of his new role as Chris Rock’s detective partner. He was yearning for simple story-telling, like in the buddy cop movies of his youth, especially 48 Hours. It almost goes without saying that a buddy cop movie is another kind of love story. “And then I read the script and it was very much in that vein.” He clarifies: “I mean, it's also extremely Saw. It's very much a horror movie.”

His renewed excitement for acting translated onto The Handmaid’s Tale set, too. Veteran Hollywood producer Warren Littlefield describes casting Minghella in the role of Nick as an effortless choice: “Sometimes you agonize over things. [Casting Minghella] was instantly clear to me, and everyone agreed.” Now in its fourth season, the tone of the Hulu hit is graver than ever. Gilead is more desperate to maintain its rule, and so more audacious in its violence. Perhaps it’s fitting that the show’s romantic gestures finally match that scale.

In one particularly soaring moment, Elisabeth Moss’ June and Minghella’s Nick meet at the center of a bridge and crush into a long kiss. It’s been two seasons since they held their newborn daughter together, and it’s hard to see how this isn’t their last goodbye. Littlefield, like Minghella, is here for the romance among the rubble. “It's spectacular when they come together. In the middle of all of the trauma is this epic love story,” he says. “Max is just magnificent in the role.”

For Minghella, the satisfaction is more personal. He works with good people, he likes his scenes, and he thinks Nick is a complex character. Minghella read The Handmaid’s Tale for the first time in college in 2005. Like all the things Minghella has ever liked, he still likes it. He’s as proud of this most recent season as he is the show’s first. And he watched Nick and June race recklessly back to each other across the expanse of the screen exactly how you might expect. “I watched it like a fan girl.”

[where-dreamers-go]

“Hearts, Fangs, And Knifes” Spn Gabriel x Reader

(A/N: Based and extended version of my Imagine: Getting hit by a cupid’s arrow while out on a hunt. Did I just write an investigation and hunt?? Didn’t think I’d be doing that, but okay—cool! I hope you enjoy. I’m also double checking that Pages doesn’t change Dean to Bean…again.

Warnings: Canon violence, language, and death. Some angst.

Word Count: 4,767 Words)

“It’s not a simple salt and burn anymore. It probably wasn’t even that to begin with.” You said as you fought the urge to lean on the Chevy Impala, tired.

“Maybe we should check the house again. We could have missed something,” Sam suggested.

Dean crossed his arms and said, “I’m thinking that lady at the diner lied through her teeth.” He looked down to his bloodied shoes.

There had been more than just a haunting, but none of you had seen the attacker clear enough. Which was why you had called Gabriel for back up and assistance since Castiel was busy.

Subconsciously, you rubbed your shoulder. Being that it dislocated earlier, you were still wary even if it was popped back in place.

“Then looks like we’re going to the diner for some milkshakes and a liar,” Gabriel mused.

“I owe you one.” You gestured to your shoulder and the archangel winked.

“Alright. We’ll go.” Dean said. “Grab a dem—….the hell?” His eyes looked somewhere behind you.

Before you could glance over your shoulder, something nailed you from behind. A warmth filled your chest and a lightness filled your limbs.

The boys cursed and you heard them unlock their guns.

“(Y/N)?” Gabriel called softly and hid your face in his chest as he embraced you.

“Get over here!” Dean’s voice shouted from further away.

“Gabe…”

“Shh…”

“What was it?”

He didn’t answer.

“What was it?”

Sam quickly said two words that lead to Gabriel tightening his hold on you.

“A cupid.”

You took in an uneasy breath.

“Get your feathered ass over here!” Dean’s voice was anything but comforting.

With much effort, you pulled out of Gabriel’s arms. You faced the cupid who donned a casual look, jeans and such.

Neither Dean nor Sam lowered their weapons as they tracked the cupid’s movements. The eldest Winchester had closed in on the cupid, keeping a minimum two paces of a distance.

“You’d think humans would be happy to see me.” The cupid said.

“Gabriel,” Sam said and the archangel behind you immediately had his angel blade in hand.

“Oh,” the cupid smirked. “Didn’t know it was you, brother.” They walked over to the group with a languid swagger. “Makes this…a little better.

Gabriel’s eyebrows set in a deep frown and pulled you to his side.

“That’s close enough,” Dean ordered. His green eyes glaring at the cupid.

Still with a smirk, the cupid stopped walking.

“Did you have orders to mark (Y/N)’s heart?” Gabriel took a step forward in a ready stance.

“What, you haven’t been listening, brother?”

“Answer the question.” Dean growled.

“Why? It’s been done.”

Your fingernails dug into your palms.

Why? What’s the whole point? This shouldn’t be happening.

Your feelings for Gabriel had quadrupled. Keeping your feelings at bay and hardly detectable was a skill built over years of practice. That was how you dealt with having a massive crush beyond crushes on an archangel. What you were feeling as you stood there two blocks from the motel and a short drive to the ghost’s house was unavoidable. What you were feeling less than two steps from Gabriel was greatly alarming.

“What do you know about me?” You asked the cupid.

By the look in their eyes they weren’t expecting you to speak let alone that question. The cupid rested on their heels.

“Just that you run around with the Winchesters and Castiel and causing unnecessary problems in Heaven.”

“Anything else?” You pressed.

They shrugged.

“This isn’t a game.” Sam said to the cupid. “Why’d you do it?”

“Why not?” The angel looked to Gabriel, grinning. “Does it bother you, brother?” An angel blade appeared in their grip.

“It does bother me,” Gabriel leaned forward.

You swallowed. The energy in the air was dangerously thick.

Eyes flickered between the two angels.

“Who else did you mark?” Dean asked, losing his patience.

“Who says I completed the match?” He looked to you. “Can a human handle a lifetime of unrequited love?”

Your jaw locked.

“Have fun hunting.”

In a flutter of wings and a sickening grin, the cupid had left.

It took more than a few moments before the Winchesters and Gabriel begun lowering their weapons and putting them out of sight.

Even with the cupid gone. They left more concern and questions for the brothers and Gabriel.

You exhaled, clearing your mind the best you could.

“I think….I think we should go back to the house tomorrow. It’s getting late.”

The boys and archangel had looks of confusion.

“(Y/N)…,” Sam’s voice was calm.

“Come on.” You walked passed them and went to the Impala. Thoughts focused to the hunt, you refused to give your heart the satisfaction of daydreaming nor of the added feelings in you. There was still a monster in town.

Things to do. People to save.

So much for a short hunt.

The drive back to the motel was short and crammed with unspoken words. That didn’t mean that you missed the looks that the men were giving one another nor the quiet glances to you in the backseat. You had all but tuned everyone and everything out as you watched the lights of the motel come into view.

Once out of the car, you were already fishing your key out of the pocket.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You said as you went towards your room. “Night.”

Both Winchesters wished you goodnight. Concern layered in their tones as opposed to the casual ‘goodnight’s.

Once you were alone in your motel room you locked the door.

You sighed. You could have been sitting in the car on the way back from a completed hunt, and on your way out of town by now.

There just had to be a rogue-ticked-off cupid, didn’t there? Still getting over the last hunt. You thought as you took off your shoes. This one was supposed to be easy and short. But no. Freakin’ complicating things more.

Again, you sighed. Think of something else. Colors, narration, something.

So you did. You preoccupied your mind with the present—what you were doing and nothing else. Going to take a shower, you had hoped that there would be enough hot water to ease your muscles. There wasn’t. Not for long anyway.

Mindlessly sitting on the bed in your sleepwear, you ate a snack. Every so often you were mentally yelling and switching to a song any time your thoughts started veering towards anything love or cupid related.

Just need to get through this case. Maybe it’s two cases in one? You thought as you continued eating. Can get that waitress at the diner to talk. Maybe we can catch her in the afternoon or something. Owe Gabriel a milksha—

A flutter of wings was immediately accompanied by Gabriel as he appeared in the middle of the motel room.

“Were you listening?”

“You’ve hardly said a word since being marked. Is it wrong for me to be worried?” Gabriel walked to the end of the bed and took a seat.

“No.” You ate more of the snack, getting your focus away from your heart.

He watched you behind honey-colored eyes.

“At least we know that the monster we’re after has super speed. Narrows it down some. They’re strong too.”

“(Y/N).”

“What?”

He pulled your snacks out of your reach. Eyes boring into your head.

You felt your resolve softening, but you kept your thoughts cluttered or clear. It switched any time it revolved too close to your heart.

“You’re not eating my snacks and you’re going to get frown lines, Gabe.” You sighed. “If this is about the cupid having a mini tantrum….I don’t want to think about it.”

“I can find another cupid….get the mark off. I’ll find the one who marked you—.”

“Gabe,” you interrupted. “We have to hunt this monster first. It’s killing people. But….but if you want to go…go after the cupid….I’m not—you can go. That’s your call.” Your chest felt like it was tightening and air was a rarity.

“No. It isn’t.” His hands gripped the comforter. “It’s your heart.”

Tearing your eyes away from the archangel, you set your focus on the bathroom door. Clearing your thoughts again still held a level of difficulty.

“It’s been a long day. Better to sleep and have a clearer head in the morning, yeah?” You muttered.

A snap of his fingers and the snacks were on the table and you were under the bedcovers while your breath was minty fresh.

“Thanks, Gabe,” you murmured.

“Good night, gumdrop.”

“Good night.”

Offering a small smile, Gabriel teleported out.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you fell back onto the mattress.

Way to complicate things, you thought.

Soon exhaustion overpowered your battling thoughts and allowed you a few hours of sleep.

. . .

Suits on and fake IDs pocketed, you and the Winchesters stood by the counter in the diner. The morning sun-rays shone oranges and pinks across most of the surfaces.

“May we have her current address,” Sam asked the manager.

“Yes, sir. Let me write it down for you.” The manager answered as he went to the back.

As the manager disappeared behind a wall, Dean gave a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t think she’s sick, do you?” You asked quietly.

“Depends,” Dean started. “How much does she really know?”

“Just because she called out sick doesn’t mean she was involved with what happened last night,” Sam reasoned.

“If she’s sick,” you said, “Then she’ll be home all day. We need to check the guy’s house again.”

“Agreed. We must have missed something.”

“Not that we knew we were looking for anything besides a ghost,” Dean added.

“Yay,” you sung sarcastically.

The manager reappeared with a paper in hand.

“Here you are. I hope she’s alright. She’s a good person. Good worker.” The manager said as he handed over the paper to Sam.

“Thank you.” Sam smiled. “We just need her help. Thank you for your concern.”

“Thank you,” Dean said with a nod as the three of you walked out of the diner.

Even though neither of you were hungry any more, you were all growing suspicious. How many supernatural creatures were going to appear on this one hunt when you all thought it was over?

“Looks like we’re going to the house again first.” Sam announced. “It’s closer.”

“What should we be looking for?” Dean asked. “The man’s family owns the house and could have taken things.”

“I don’t think so. The guy didn’t really have what some might consider a lavish lifestyle.”

“So we’re back to square one.” Dean got into the driver’s seat as the rest of you climbed in.

“At least we know a bit about him already.” You added in. “Handyman, practically everybody in town knew him…”

“Unusual death in the woods.”

“Still seems random. Why would he be in the woods? Exercising?”

“Getting ready to exercise his time as a ghost and haunting people?”

You could practically feel Sam rolling his eyes in the passenger seat.

On the drive over the defeated-ghost’s house, Sam had already started planning where to look in the house. The usual spots where information was kept. Dean had the radio on, knowing the ride was just long enough for a few songs.

“Can you higher the music some?” You asked. The song was good, yes, however the height in volume helped keep your mind on the song itself and nothing more.

Dean gave an approving smile through the rearview mirror and turned the dial.

During the drive, you noticed Sam checking on you every so often. You knew he was still worried considering you hadn’t so much as hinted about the whole cupid incident the evening prior. He had cause to be worried because you were friends, but to you it wasn’t the time to discuss it. Not that you were ready to.

If you thought the motel smelled a little stale, the inside of the destroyed-ghost’s house was stuffy. No one had been in for at least a couple of weeks.

When was the last time the guy’s family opened a window in here?

The three of you dispersed to different sections of the home. Sam went into another room, you spotted a closet by the kitchen, and Dean went straight to the paper mess on the counter.

Since the three of you had got into town, the man’s family had yet to go by, but who knew when they’d show up. Someone inherited it already. The three of you had to quickly find what you needed.

“People still have these?” Dean had found an old phonebook with corners folded. He flipped through some of its yellow pages.

“They’re a lot thiner now,” you commented. Looking through the closet, you peeked into a cardboard box. It held only door locks.

“Any chance this guy was paranoid of being hunted?”

“What’d you mean?” Dean asked.

“There are at least ten different door locks in here.” You grabbed the box and pushed it on the counter for Dean to have a look.

“There were four deaths before his. Then the guy started haunting…”

“He could have been a victim like the others.”

“He was the local handyman, he knew everyone…”

“That doesn’t mean he had motive. The lady at the diner said he had an affair with the neighbor.”

“Jealousy is a good cover story.”

You frowned, “Was there even a haunting?”

“You’re telling me…some monster has been throwing us off their trail?”

You exhaled.

“Hey.” Sam called from another room.

You and Dean made your way to Sam who had a notebook laid open on the desk.

“You found the guy’s diary?” Dean peered down to the various notepads and scraps of paper. “Or tiny scrapbook?”

“They’re phone numbers to bookstores, a psychic, a private investigator, and even a cryptologist.”

“He knew something was up,” you said.

“Looks like our guy here was close to contacting a hunter.” Dean flicked through the pages.

“Do you think that’s why he was killed? He knew the victims and knew it wasn’t…normal.” Sam said.

“For lack of a better word,” you crossed your arms.

“He might have been trying to stop them—the monster.” Sam thought out loud.

“He got caught.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

“But how? He had work, but…did he know where to look?”

“I have an idea where we can start.”

You and Sam looked to the eldest Winchester.

“Diner waitress’ house.”

. . .

Nice and pressed suit jackets back on, you and the boys stepped out of the Impala. Sitting on a well-groomed yard sat a quaint house. Unsuspecting and fitting into the neighborhood.

It was time to get some real answers.

“We don’t know what we’re walking into.” Sam said as the three of you neared the door.

“Keep alert.” Dean advised.

“No distractions.” You breathed in. A mental image of Gabriel was interrupted by Sam’s knocking on the front door.

Quietly, you stood waiting for a response.

Right on cue, the three of you smiled as the lady from the diner answered the door.

“What can I do for you?” She asked as nicely as if you were customers in need of a stack of a hot breakfast.

“We were wondering if we could ask you a few more questions ab—?”

“Of course.” She stood aside as she opened the door more. “Please come in.”

A warning shiver ran up your neck as she smiled.

Hey, Gabriel, you prayed, just letting you know that I have a funny feeling about this waitress.

Sam lead the three of you inside.

The house smelled like lavender and bleach.

You may have enough mental control to divert attention from one thought to another, but you could not help but to wrinkle your nose at the smells.

Passed the entryway, she invited each of you to take a seat on a couch. The back of the couch faced the hallway you entered.

Dean sat rigid beside you. No doubt he sensed something was off or didn’t like how all of you had your backs exposed.

“Would you like anything to drink?” She asked.

“No, thank you.” Sam answered casually.

It was both amazing and entirely helpful how he could always do that. To make it seem as if it was a warm business meeting with tea.

She sat down in an armchair across from you all and crossed her legs.

“What can I help you with? Did you find out why he’d kill his own neighbor before himself? She was such a darling woman. She always ordered caramel sauce with her pancakes.” She smiled.

“Tasty,” Dean piped up half-heartedly.

The lady’s smile did not fade.

“How did you know him,” Sam began to question. Even going as far as to ask why she thought it was that man in the first place when it was found that he was quite happy with his job.

As the woman began to answer, her voice faded away; your attention drawn elsewhere.

You turned to look behind you. Another woman was standing in the doorway. A similar built to the one in the armchair.

“You three should have left town.” The waitress spoke, she was beside Sam then. Her hand close to touching his head of hair. Smiling at the Winchester, her eyes turned an unnatural shade of blue. As her smile grew, fangs were exposed in place of her front teeth. “We’re glad you stayed.”

“Vetala. Fun.” Dean leaped off of the couch with a knife in hand.

She had moved back to the armchair before Dean’s shoes met the floor.

“Bronze or silver?” You asked.

“Silver.”

Sam was on his feet.

Hand reaching in your suit for your knife, you were pinned to the couch in a second. Your airway was constricted by the waitress’ hand. Her fangs more than too close for your liking.

Sam was shoved somewhere passed the couch after his attempted rescue. His thud against a wall and the floor was rather significant.

On the other hand, Dean hit the vetala hard enough that she loosened her grip on your neck. Turning, she backhanded Dean to the armchair. Both him and the chair toppled backwards and you missed how he flailed his legs to get back onto his feet again.

With a hand searching desperately in your suit, you heard the sounds of Sam and Dean’s continued fight. After finding the right handle, you pulled out your silver knife and plunged it into the vetala’s chest. She faltered and barred her fangs at you.

Somewhere off to the side of the couch, and out of your line of sight, Sam battled against the other monster with blunt hits.

To your surprise, the hand around your neck tightened, her nails digging into your skin.

Why isn’t it working? What’s wr—?

An arm wrapped around the vetala’s throat and yanked back.

“Twist the knife!” Dean ordered.

Grabbing ahold of the knife with both hands, you rotated the weapon.

In another moment, the vetala’s body stiffened and then slacked completely. Dean shrugged the body off to the side so it would not land on you.

Behind the couch, Sam had the other vetala in an arm lock before using his own silver blade to kill the monster. Finally it dropped to the floor, Sam looked away from the body with a flip of his hair.

“You alright, Sam?” Dean asked as he helped you off of the couch. He made sure not to step on the dead vetala.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“So…” You said and rubbed at your neck. “Was there a haunting or was it a set up—fake out…thing?”

“We all need a drink, is what I think.” Dean stated.

“Heh, you rhymed.”

“Shut it.” His tone was not firm nor irritated in the slightest. Perhaps tired.

You raised your eyebrows in a playful challenge and called out, “Gabriel, if you’re not busy—”

“Don’t tell me it was the waitress.” Gabriel had appeared beside you. “Really wanted that milkshake.”

“Yeah. A pair of vetala.” Sam explained briefly. “They had a nice operation going for them.”

The archangel’s eyes darted between the bloodied knife in your hand and your neck you were still touching. His jaw muscles tensed. In a snap of his fingers the pair of vetala were gone.

Handy, you thought. More than anything, you were relieved and overjoyed that Gabriel appeared when you called. You wished you could be as helpful to him. You wished you could do more for him. He deserved more positivity.

“Let’s get going,” Dean said as he started towards the front door.

“There were only two of them?” You asked. “Not a nest or anything?”

“Vetala work in pairs.” Sam answered.

“But if the archangel over here would like to do a house check,” Dean smirked, “I wouldn’t mind.”

You glanced over at said archangel.

“Be back in a sec.” Gabriel zapped out.

“How come he listens to you more?” Sam asked as you two turned to join Dean.

The warmth in your chest brought a smile to your face. You did love the extra attention Gabriel gave you. It made loving him a little more bearable.

“Maybe I ask a little nicer,” you shrugged. “I don’t remember ever yelling at him or anything like that.”

Why would I? You thought. They’re the ones with the weird tense relationship….some trickster stuff. Glad I missed that. It would change things….I think.

Outside, Gabriel stood beside the Impala.

“Let’s go.” He sung.

“What?” Sam opened the passenger side door. “You got plans?”

“Yes. I can have plans.”

You hardly felt your shoulders slouch in disappointment, but you could feel the cold, emptiness in your stomach.

“Will you be gone long?” You asked.

Gabriel tilted his head and spoke, “You’re coming with me.”

“Hey,” Dean interjected. “If this is about finding that piece of shit-cupid, I want in.”

You tensed. Thoughts swam in multiple directions before you could stop them. Bits and pieces more clear than others that you hoped Gabriel didn’t catch. You didn’t want to burden him or make him uncomfortable with how you felt. Not even the cupid who marked you could had known that you already held romantic feelings for the archangel. Although out of everyone, maybe Sam knew, he was perceptive in that way.

“(Y/N).” Sam had lightly nudged your shoulder.

“What?”

“Uh…you kind of tuned us all out.” Sam said, his face full of concern. “You can tell us. I mean…we will go after the cupid. What they did to you was wrong.”

Exhaling quietly, you ducked down and squeezed into the car’s backseat.

“(Y/N),” Dean turned to look at you from the driver’s seat. “I don’t know who the bastard marked you with or how confused or pissed you might be, but don’t you dare think for a second that this is less important than a hunt. I won’t stand for that shit and neither with Sam. Got it?”

You nodded. Your fingers pulling at your sleeves.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered.

Sam got into the car and shut the door.

“We’ll let Cas know…” Dean turned the key in the ignition.

At the flutter of wings, you jolted. Your palms clammy like if it was your first hunt. You dared not to look Gabriel in the eyes as he settled in the backseat. Regardless, you could feel him studying you intensely.

The car made its way back to the motel and you had never felt so incredibly awkward. For one, you knew that your friends wanted to know who you were in love with. Two, Gabriel could sense your emotions and might have been reading your mind every second. Three, you weren’t sure if you should tell any of them the full truth.

They were your friends and deserved to know, but that didn’t mean you were obligated to nor ready.

As you walked back into your rented room, you went through a mental checklist. What you did not expect however, was Gabriel had followed you inside, closing the door silently.

You walked straight to your bag and set it on the foot of the bed. The first thing you wanted to do was have a quick change into something casual for the ride back. Getting wrinkles out of a suit wasn’t on your to-do list. You made sure to not take any more time than necessary changing in the bathroom and washing any blood off.

Back in the main room, you ran on automatic, thoughts preoccupied by a random, catchy song. Gabriel only watched, not saying a word, which only made your nerves alert you.

Once you zipped your bag and turned around to be two breathes away from Gabriel. Your heart practically leaped to your throat.

Honey-colored eyes captured your gaze. The bag in your grasp was tugged away without any resistance from you.

“It’ll be easier if I stay away until we get the mark off of your heart.” Gabriel said.

“What?”

“It would be selfish of me if I took advantage of that mark.” He traced a small invisible pattern across the fabric covering your sternum.

Incredibly short breathes made it in and out of your lungs.

His hand returned to his side and he took a step back.

“I’ll put this in the car for you.” He said as the sparkle in his eyes dimmed. “Then I’ll go…”

It felt as if clawed hands were tearing at your heart. Your eyes stung from unshed tears.

“Gabe.” Your voice was small and broke at the last sound.

“I’ll fix this, gumdrop.” He didn’t look at you from the door. “Don’t worry.”

“Gabe.” Your feet refused to move. Your mind whirling with meanings to his words. “Do you love me?”

After a few moments of sheer silence, he sighed. His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak.

Your hands formed into fists as you forced words out, “Regardless of the stupid cupid arrow or mark. Do you…do you actually love me? Did you mean it with every flirt? Every time you would show up when I asked or needed you? When I was scared or happy? Because this isn’t like a movie love spell. Have I treated you any differently?”

Even from across the room, Gabriel’s eyes could root you to the spot and read you like a book.

You couldn’t believe, well actually you could, that it took your heart and feelings to be tampered with for Gabriel to express his feelings for you. To open up more.

“Gabriel,” you swallowed. “Taking the mark away wouldn’t change me. The feelings were already there.”

“(Y/N)—.”

“Read my mind! Freakin’ go through it. None of this is new. I just never had it in me to tell you or ask you out.” You finally took a longer breath. “I’m only human.”

Gabriel snapped your bag to who knows where and took long strides to be back in front of you. His warm hands held yours and rubbed the tension away until you no longer had your fingers digging into your palms.

“You’re not only a human. Don’t say that,” he shook his head. “And I’ll tell you and remind you in all the ways of how you are more. I’ll tell you how intelligent and kick ass you are until you get sick of it and then I’ll tell you more. I’ll compliment you until Sam and Dean roll their eyes into the back of their skulls and then I’ll shout it from every ‘tallest building’ in every country because everyone should know how incredible you are. How perfect I think you are.”

“Yeah?” You sniffed as tears blurred your vision.

“Yeah.” Gabriel’s lips curved up and he nudged his nose against yours.

The wide smile on your lips could hardly match the amount of joy and love you felt building within you.

“I should have read your mind weeks ago.” Gabriel kissed your forehead then your eyebrow, followed by your temple, your ear, earlobe, cheekbone—

KNOCK KNOCK THUMP

“Hey, you okay in—“

“Hold on!” You shouted to Dean outside. “I’m having a moment!”

“What?”

You laughed lightly.

The archangel’s lips made their way to the corner of your mouth.

“I love you, Gabriel,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed your nose.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He hooked your hands behind his neck. “Say the word and we’ll go somewhere alone. Anywhere.”

~~~

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DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

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