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[freshcir]

"Say feefees again and I may actually puke," she said with folded arms as she looked him over once and wondered what had gotten into him to think they were actually friends or something similar to in that nature. "Can I ask what you need with me?"

Gilbert & Open Starter for Anyone!

It could've been a trick of the light. Like a chivalrous devil offering a pact, he stepped out from the shadows. Gilbert's clothes are ironed, his smile friendly, and his hands are clasped casually behind his back. "You are a very difficult person to contact," he said. "Or do you just not like me? Just so you know, ghosting hurts my feefees."

[flowercrowngods]

something so monstrous pt.2

(in which kas feeds from steve and triggers a bad migraine pt.2)

🤍🌷 read part 1 here this part gets really intense on the migraine. descriptions of immense pain, fever dreams, and vomiting, some body horror imagery bc pain can be fun like that

Time and space lose all meaning as Steve remains on the precipice of something that is too violent to be called sleep, but not harsh enough yet to be unconsciousness. Real sensations evade him as everything turns into pain immediately. Even the twitch of his finger becomes a thundering blaze of blinding pain shooting through his body and settling behind his eye until he is sure he will wake up blind. 

The fear of that is everpresent, the blind spots too real to ignore every time it goes like this, and he imagines how they will grow. He imagines how they get worse every time until one day the pain inside his skull will be so immense it will take his eyesight in exchange for alleviation.

And even though it is unbearable, he opens his eyes whenever he can, just to make sure he can see still. It’s an added veil of terror that covers him whole and consumes him slowly but continually. 

At some point he notices something cold and wet being placed over his eyes, adding another layer of darkness that is welcome, even if it leaves an imprint of pressure and sensation on his forehead that makes his skin tear around it, his skull cracking and caving in beneath the touch. 

And still it helps a little, pulling him further toward consciousness but not further toward the pain itself. But Steve can only whimper weakly in response, six feet under a thick cloud of cotton-filled smog that even turns breathing into a chore, polluting his lungs with fear and horror and agony without compare.

He does fall into a fitful sleep at some point, grateful for the short reprieve, but it does nothing to alleviate his exhaustion. 

It feels like his eyeballs are being pushed into his skull for what must be hours upon hours, and the pain is so unbearable, so horrible, that he's not at all surprised when nausea rises in his chest, his body responding to its current state with confusion and a hard-reset. 

Steve keens, trying to roll onto his side, groaning at the flares of pain shooting up into his skull and down into his limbs. They only worsen the nausea and it's pure instinct that gives him the strength to sit up. 

"Kas?” he whispers, swallowing thickly against another wave. "Bathroom?” 

Instead of giving him directions or pulling him up to drag him there, Kas wastes no time. He gets up off the floor, approaching him with shuffling steps once more, and gently but quickly lifts Steve off the bed in a hold — firm, yet gentle — that brings another sting of tears to Steve's eyes. Pain and vulnerability and the need for everything to be over. That’s what makes him cry.

Still he manages to hold on, his head rolling onto Kas's shoulder, the skin of his neck blissfully cool against Steve’s overheated forehead pressing into him. 

Make it stop, he thinks. Longs. Aches. It’s supposed to be over. It’s all supposed to be over now. 

He whimpers again, and imagines that Kas is the one to softly shush him this time.

The coolness of Kas's neck is gone all too soon as the vampire sets Steve on the hard, uncomfortable bathroom floor. He doesn't go far, though, crouching down beside him and holding him up over the toilet. Steve can't see anything, but still he’s grateful that Kas left the lights off, the bathroom tinged in the same darkness as his bedroom. 

Pathetically, Steve rests his forehead on the toilet seat, chasing the coldness of it as pain and nausea reach their peak. It’s disgusting, but be’s not strong enough to care. A whine breaks from him, and he wishes Kas would leave. Even though the cold hand on his neck feels good, and even though he knows he wouldn't be able to hold himself up right now. 

I'm not weak, he wants to say. And maybe he does. But he can't recognise his own voice right now. 

"Not weak, maybe, but pathetic." 

No. 

"You know you are." 

Shut up. Go away. 

It doesn't make sense for Mr Munson to suddenly be here with them, to stand in the doorway and watch his nephew, who is more monster than human these days, holding up the pathetic form of Steve, who is more pain than human. More smoke than human. More vulnerable weakness than remotely human.

Go away. Eddie? I want him to go away. Tell— Go ‘way. 

The hand wanders, pulling Steve against cool skin again so his forehead rests against the toilet no longer, basking in the cold touch and the warmth of a body to hold him. 

"Safe," Kas says, and Steve wants to badly to believe him. Wants Wayne to leave, wants everyone to leave and just let him suffer in silence and solitude like always. 

Wayne starts talking again, but Steve can't hear him this time as he suddenly heaves and retches, throwing up what little he had to eat today. Over and over and over.

It goes like this for a long time. He has no idea how long. Has no idea where he even is anymore. 

The world tilts a few times when he loses his grip, his arms buckling, his hands spasming and giving out, and still he never falls. Only ever feels the cold, damp skin of Kas’s neck. 

Kas has to carry him to bed when he's done and on the brink of passing out again, and Steve doesn’t mind this time. Kas also hands him a glass of water or two before pushing him back to lie down again. That’s nice. 

The wet cloth returns, and Steve isn't aware of his surroundings for much more after that.

—— 

The next time Steve comes to, he feels like he was freshly dragged through Lover’s Lake until his lungs gave out. His head is pulsing violently, his senses are sluggish and everything feels foggy. He has no idea where he is, the room pitch black around him as he lifts a lukewarm damp cloth from his eyes. 

A soft groan falls from his lips as he stretches his aching, cramped limbs, rubbing his hands over his face and regaining the feeling in his body. Little pinpricks of phantom pain shoot through him, his mouth tastes like ash and his head protests rather violently against his pathetic attempt at sitting up. 

He is disoriented and something about his vision is still messed up, something in the depths of the room not quite right and leaving him with a dizziness he can’t quite shake, followed by a wave of anxiety that something’s wrong with his eyes. 

He blinks. Blinks again, finding more things in the strange room as he does, his sluggish brain slowly catching up and filling in the blanks.

It all comes back to him like a tidal wave when he suddenly finds himself blinking at a pair of red eyes, softly glowing and wide open. 

“Kas,” he croaks, his throat absolutely parched. 

One second he’s wincing at that, the next he finds a cool glass of water pressed into his hands before the eyes and the shadowy form they belong to retreat to the foot of the bed again. 

 “Thanks,” he murmurs, stalling as he takes a sip. Embarrassment rises in him, but he doesn’t want to apologise. The thought of that somehow makes the vulnerability that much worse, so he tries to ignore it. It’ll all be fine if they simply not acknowledge it. 

He wants to ask for the time instead, wants to know how much the migraine took from him this time, but he knows Kas doesn’t really understand the concept of it all, let alone know the numbers. 

A silence settles between them and it’s somewhere between welcome and uncomfortable. Just like everything that happens in Hawkins. It makes Steve feel like a ghost again, but this time he’s a ghost in the room, not just in his own head. He’s the one who’s out of place.

With a little sigh, he places the glass on the makeshift nightstand again and falls over onto his side. His head is mad at him for it, still feeling too fragile for sudden movements, but lying down feels better than sitting.

There’s a huff from Kas that sounds more amused than derisive, so Steve looks at him. Looks at the shimmer in those eyes before closing his own again, not wanting to be looked at right now. Not wanting to face it.

“You,” Kas says then, his voice quiet and without the edge of that animalistic growl. The sound of someone who’s not meant to speak at all. The souvenir of someone who was human once before Evil grabbed him and modified him to His liking. 

“Me,” Steve says, an automatic response, just as quiet. He’s listening. 

“How… How are…” Kas struggles, huffing in frustration at the words that refuse to come, but still it’s the most coherent Steve has ever heard him. It makes him sit up half way again; leaning his weight on one arm to focus all his foggy and cloudy attention on the vampire trying to ask him how he is feeling. 

No more words come, though, the question half finished in the air between them. But somehow it makes Steve smile. Just a little bit. This feels important. And huge.

“My head hurts,” he answers truthfully, amused when Kas’s eyes snap back to his. To search them. To communicate something.

“Hurts?” 

“Yeah. It will, for a while. Always does. Nothing to do about it, really.” He wishes he felt as indifferent to it as he sounds, but that’s just the tiredness clouding his tone. It’s fast approaching now that he knows he’s relatively safe. Now that he knows he can rest. His arm gives out and he slides, slowly this time, back to lie on the pillow. “But it’s not as bad. And the other pain is gone, so…” 

So. He could go home now. He should, probably. Ignoring the weakness in his bones and the exhaustion in his every fiber. If he closed his eyes again right now, he could fall asleep. Still, maybe he should—

“Stay,” Kas says again, and Steve really should have figured. He’s not quite well enough to really fight him on that, though, so he shrugs. 

“Fine,” he mumbles into the pillow, halfway back to slumberland already. 

There’s movement on the foot of the bed, and before he knows it Kas has tucked him in again, draped across the pillows as he is. It’s still unreal, that, but Steve won’t complain. What’s even more unreal, though, is the image Steve gets of Kas curling up by the foot of the bed in a similar position. As if he still means to keep watch. 

It’s ridiculous. A little weird. And sort of endearing.

——

The next time Steve wakes, everything around him is a little brighter, daylight fighting weakly to fill the room, but it stands no chance against the large wooden planks and thick curtains meant to block it out permanently. 

He blinks away the heaviness, taking stock of his body. There is a crick in his neck and burgeoning cramps in his side and hip from the position he’s still in, and this head still is a pulsing, aching mess — but no more than usual. 

He taps the pads of his fingers to his thumb before flexing his hands. Only then does he stretch the rest of his body and announce his wakefulness. 

Opposite him, at the foot of the bed, Kas is already awake and still in the same position that Steve saw him last. Did he even sleep? Does he need that? Or has he just been staring at Steve, watching him, ready to carry him to the bathroom again for round two. 

The thought of that makes his skin crawl.

“Hi,” he says to fill the silence that is all too inviting for his spiralling mind.

Kas grunts, but it sounds more like a hum. Sort of gentle around the edges. He doesn’t move, doesn’t seem at all fazed that they’re just kind of staring at each other. Steve swallows, not really sure how to go from here.

He fists the blanket and rubs the linen bedding between his fingers, feels the rough fabric catching on the callouses along his hands as uncomfortable seconds tick by. Still Kas doesn’t move. 

“Listen, man,” Steve says at last, thinking back to yesterday’s events and the vampire’s sudden care. “Thanks, alright? What you did, that was, uh. That was nice. You didn’t have to do any of that.” 

Another hum, and it occurs to Steve that Kas is back in his normal state, retreated back into his mind, hiding from the world himself now that it no longer needs him. It’s a strange thought, that Steve being hurt would be what brings him back. If at all. Maybe he’s reading it all wrong. Maybe it as just a coincidence, or maybe Kas tasted something in his blood that made him want to improve Steve’s physical state for selfish purposes. That’s probably more likely.

But it makes him feel even more wrong-footed than before, and it leaves him hyper-aware of the situation. Of their dynamic. Indifference and annoyance and… He doesn’t want it to change, doesn’t want some kind of debt between himself and Kas — especially not when Kas has no means to really settle it. But he also can’t feign some kind of gratitude when what he feels the most is mortification and embarrassment; and he sure as hell doesn’t want Kas to know that either. 

So he throws back the blanket and gets out of the bed, a little dizzy at first, but he doesn’t care as he slips into his shoes and hurries out of the room. 

He just wants to leave. Get out of here and go home, go back to bed and get over the mortification of having been seen like this. Of having been taken care of. By someone who doesn’t even like him. By someone who hissed and snapped at him one moment and then carried him to the bathroom the next. 

“It looks like there’s nothing human left in him, but we do have data that suggest otherwise.” Owens’s words echo through his mind as he crosses the living room. “It seems to be in hiding, the Munson part of him; that’s our hope at least. That you can get him back out one day, make him win over the vampire part. It could be like a self defence mechanism, I guess. We hope he can still be coaxed back into the land of the living. How, though, we don’t know.”

Was this what happened? Has Steve’s weakness triggered the human part of Kas’s tortured brain to take over? No, that can’t be. 

It seems unreal. Unlikely. Wayne telling him stories or Dustin talking about their campaign, that should have helped. Even Mike playing the guitar, or Robin rambling about something or other; all of that was much more close to who Munson was. Or used to be. Eddie Munson never struck Steve as someone who took care of people naturally. Someone who stepped in. He stepped up, sure, but only ever for the wrong reasons. 

It makes no sense. So it must be wrong; just Steve’s exhausted brain grasping at straws. It usually does that, anyway. Nobody knows if Eddie is even still in there. Part of Steve hopes he’s not. 

Just as he reaches for the front door, ready to just get out of here and pretend like nothing happened, he feels a presence behind him. Kas followed him out of the bedroom, standing in the doorway now with an unreadable expression. It's the blank one he usually takes on, but where before it was normal, it throws Steve off now. Maybe because he saw how Kas can look at him. How expressive his eyes can get.

He holds them, the red shimmer a little dimmer out here in the brighter living room. 

And maybe it's the blankness in those eyes, or the lack of judgment in Kas's every action, but whatever it is, it makes Steve let go of the door and turn to face Kas properly. 

"Why'd you do it?"

The vampire inclines his head. Listening. Always listening. Steve doesn't know how he never noticed that. It seemed so primitive before. Like how a dog will react to its owner speaking, but never process the words. Kas processes, though. So Steve keeps going.

"Why'd you... You kept saying that word. Safe. Do you, uh. Do you know what it means?" 

Slowly, his eyes growing a little less blank, Kas nods. 

Steve looks around the cabin, swallowing thickly, still feeling so out of place in here, still feeling the need to run and leave it far behind. But something makes him stay. Makes him want to understand. 

"You wanted me to feel safe?" Again, Kas nods. "Why?" 

There is hesitation there, and Steve wonders if it's because he doesn't want to tell him, if he doesn't know the answer, or if he doesn't know how to answer. It's a loaded question, maybe. 

"Pain," he says at last, his voice barely discernible from a growl, but somehow Steve seems attuned to it now. Maybe because he listens now. Because he wants to know. To understand. 

He waits, watching as Kas struggles for more words once more. Just like last night. 

"Know... Know... pain. Know.” He taps his temple with a clawed hand, and Steve's heart falls, his chest aching with realisation. 

Right. He would. He would know pain like that. If what the doc says is right, if what Vecna taunted them with is right, if every working theory the kids have is right, then… yeah. Kas would know. He’s know something about pain. More than any of them. Pain so intense it splits you apart from yourself. 

"Shit," Steve whispers more to himself than to the room, crossing his arms in front of his chest to hug himself and keep from digging deeper, keep his heart from falling further, and keep the horror at bay. 

He doesn't want to imagine the kind of torture Kas went through. Is still going through, if what the doctors say has even more truth to it. If Munson is still in there, still suffering because human minds have a way of holding on to pain — Steve knows soemthing about that, too. 

"I'm sorry," he offers. It's all he can offer. In the end, it’s all that’s left.

And still it's so lame. It's not enough. 

But Kas just nods again, a pained shadow of a smile appearing on his face. Something transpires between them in that moment, Steve can feel it, but he can't really define it. Maybe some kind of understanding. Some kind of safety. 

"I gotta..." he starts, motioning to the door behind him. "I gotta go. Will you be fine? Did you have enough, y'know, to drink?" 

Another nod, and the smile widens a little. Looks a little less pained this time. 

"Good," Steve says, stuffing his hands into his pockets, lifting his shoulders to his ears, trying and failing to seem casual in the face of those glowing eyes. "I’ll– I'll see you around, yeah?" 

And then he's out the door, his head spinning and aching, his steps heavy with the weight of whatever has changed between him and Kas in the past twenty-four hours. 

... sooo. part 3 anyone?

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently) 🤍 tagging for this work only: @forestnymph-666 @little-trash-ghost @jupitersgonemissing

[byteofwhump]

to live without the dignity of people

(radmilla and elfreide belong to @dresden-syndrome ; thanks for letting me borrow them ehehehe. cw for noncon kissing, collars, muzzles, hair-pulling, creepy/intimate whumper. this is lady whump, dl;dr. if u saw the version where i mispelled elfreide's name no u didnt)

"you know, kitten," elfreide purrs, "from what i have heard, i expected more from you." she leans down, lifts a strand of radmilla's hair between her fingers, twisting it as if to inspect it.

radmilla glares, even as she can feel her eyes start to water. she wants to scream, to swear, to tear elfreide's throat out with her teeth. she wants to run, run as far from this place that was once her home to anywhere that will take her.

"all that talk," elfreide says, petting radmilla's hair with gentle touches, "and yet, for all you have lost, your precious comrades in arms have gained nothing. at best, they remain the same as they once were. at worst..." she slips a finger below radmilla's collar, a feather-light touch against her skin. "i do so hope they managed to catch the tall one. she would look marvelous on her knees, don't you think?"

radmilla growls, muffled by the muzzle across her face, and tries to swing her head up, pull away. elfreide's hand tightens, cutting off radmilla's growl into a gasp of pain. she pulls the girl's head back, tilts it up until her throat is bared, forces her to struggle to breath against the tension.

"you *lost*, little traitor," elfreide hisses. she flicks the tag on radmilla's ear, smiles to herself at the whimper it draws from the once-proud revolutionary. "now look at you." she forces radmilla's head to turn, angles it so she can see herself in the mirror, a pathetic *thing* kneeling on the floor, collar at her throat and muzzle across her mouth. "bound and gagged at the feet of the very enemy you sought to depose."

tears run down radmilla's face, dripping onto the muzzle. elfreide smiles, leaning down and bringing her lips to radmilla's ear. "*this*, my darling little rebel, is what it means to 'live without the dignity of people'." elfreide brings a hand beneath radmilla's chin, tilts her head so she can lean down and kiss her through the muzzle, licking her lips to taste the savory taste of radmilla's pain that pool there as she throws the girl's own words back in her face.

"i do hope," elfreide purrs, "that you will find it to your liking."

[laylcsaxena]

closed starter @nikhilxkohli

location: fright fest (haunted house)

She shifted her weight, peering at her phone to check for messages from her friends. They were running late, and now she was stuck in this awkward predicament where she was holding up the line. The ticket attendant called out again, telling her to move forward. Spinning around, she stumbled back, colliding with something solid. Looking up, her eyes widened when they landed on the last person she wanted to see tonight. Nik Kohli. Of course, it had to be him. Here. Now. When she was trying so hard to maintain professional boundaries after discovering his marriage status.

She fought the urge to step away from him. To run far away. But this place didn’t belong to him. Nope, she wasn’t running. "Well, if it isn't my favorite green card Romeo," she said dryly, with a saccharine smile. "Didn’t think you’d be interested in these sorts of places." Her stomach twisted with irritation—at her friends for being late, at Nik for showing up, and at herself for still feeling that pull toward him despite everything. "Well, this has been fun. See you," she gestured vaguely toward the exit, planning her escape. The last thing she needed was to be trapped in a dark haunted house with her client, who she so clearly had feelings for.

[fogsnatched]

If Meg were to try and count the things she's lost since first arriving to the fog... she'd be a counting for a very long time. Make no mistake about it - she's under no illusions as to how awful the Entity's realm is, and how damned she's been since the moment she first arrived. No hope, no escape, nothing to hold onto... at least, that's what any sane person would say.

But the one thing Meg refuses to lose is her spirit. A little spitfire - that's what they all called her when she was a kid, and now, that fire in her soul is the only thing she has left to prove that this place hasn't beaten her completely. She's still her. And although that 'her' may have changed so much that it's now almost unrecognizable... she can't give up on winning.

On escaping. Isn't that what it all comes down to? They've all shared their theories, exchanging those little scraps of hope around the campfire to keep themselves believing they might get out one day. The Entity isn't all-powerful - if it can grow stronger, it can grow weaker too. Just because they can't yet understand it doesn't mean it can't be understood. Whatever gets them through each trial - though maybe it's the fear of giving up that's the strongest motivator, in the end. What if a worse fate awaits them then...?

They all have to cling onto something, so Meg clings onto her pride. But it's not always enough. Consecutive losses have a way of breaking her spirit like nothing else does, and right now... she's been teetering on the edge of that borderline. So when she spots the familiar face of the Trapper, the crooked smile she gives... is just a little bit twisted.

"Perfect. I've been waiting too long to get my payback on you. Don't suppose you feel like giving up, and saving us the trouble?"

@exxecutioners ( starter! )

[nostalgical]

" i don't relate to you. " kate attests. there is a mixture of confusion and anger evident in her tone. thanks to people like him and victoria, she was now a conversation piece here at blackwell academy. after years of flying under the radar, she's suddenly gained infamy. he can act like he hasn't played a part in making her life miserable. fine, whatever. but what he's not going to do is claim that they have anything in common. " you're a bully, nathan. "

lyric based starter ♫ happier than ever - billie eilish. (@thtree)

[fiorserpen]

soryn's head tilts slightly, a little surprised by her reaction to a harmless spider. " it is just one little spider. hardly the size of a dime! " he tells her, an amused smile forming on his lips. " okay, okay, i will catch it and take it outside, i promise. " he offers his hand to the little spider, letting it crawl onto his fingers before closing his free hand over it so it doesn't try to jump down or start crawling up his arm. soryn carries it outside and places it gently down onto one of the bushes furthest from the front door. " there, all taken care of. " he smiles, closing the door behind himself. " no more spider. "

@gamenu / starter call.

[rebelscaped]

kim jaejoong. nonbinary. he/him. bisexual. ⇝ hey, isn’t that kael kang ( nickname: imugi )? i think that the thirty-one year old from london, england works as the bassist for vain rogues and the ghost orchestra, the tail gunner for the bastards & recpetionist at wrench it (ex-mercenary for the scarlet nightmare), but outside of that people describe them as bruised skin, scraped knuckles and bleeding lips; super distressed denim and torn fabric held together with paperclips and chains; blurred and dazed city lights; chipped black nail polish and smudged eyeliner . i hear they are irritable & standoffish, but they are also known to be dedicated & unconventional. consider giving them a visit at their home in the kingpin trailer park and get to know why they’re called the rebel.

IMPORTANT LINKS: stats. pinterest.

TW:

NOTE: please do not refer to kael as a man! most other masculine terms are okay & he does refer to himself as hana's father/dad. kael himself doesn't really care if he's referred to as a man but he isn't one so please keep this in mind! he's nonbinary with a sort of neutral/androgynous presentation that just happens to lean a little more masc.

BASICS.

Although he doesn't go by it very often at all, Kael's Korean name is Kang Hyunjin. (btw any similarity to a certain kpop idol's name, even the fact the surname reminds, is pure coincidence asdfgh I settled on this as Kael's name not long after I first made him in 2014)

Despite working as tail gunner for the Bastards, Kael isn't actually that passionate about vehicles in general; he does the work because he's good at it and he likes taking shit apart to see how they work. He does like motorbikes specifically and knows quite a lot about them but he has no interest in cars.

Kael has ADHD. Due to his upbringing, this was never diagnosed and it remains unmedicated. He also has pretty severe anxiety and PTSD as a result of his history. These are, again, undiagnosed. He suffers from regular nightmares and has experienced his fair share of panic attacks. He's also had his struggles with depression over the years and deals with a lot survivor's guilt after his best friend's sacrificial death. (note: i don't personally have adhd or ptsd but please trust I've done a lot of research on these things! c': also, i'm autistic & adhd definitely runs in my family so pls know if would never deliberately misrepresent any neurodivergence!)

In general, Kael's health probably leaves a lot to be desired. He smokes, he doesn't sleep properly, he doesn't eat right; overall he doesn't really do much to look out for himself. The only thing that's really improved since Hana came into his care is that he's less inclined to do things that might get him killed. Sort of. He is still a Bastard.

He has a way of coming off very aloof and standoffish and is often written off a nastier person than he actually is. The truth is that he just has a lot of walls built up, as truth does NOT come easily to him, and he has a pretty sarcastic sense of humour. Also, he has kind of a short fuse but this is usually directed towards pretty trivial upsets and, honestly, it's hard to describe him as aggressive. He can be a little volatile but it's more of a quirk than an out-and-out problem. Once you get to know him better, you'll probably figure out that he just has a lot of trust issues AND more energy than he knows what to do with. It explains a lot.

Kael is not just in a punk band for the aesthetics; although his fashion sense is largely just punk-inspired without really fully committing (although he does absolutely dress like he should be in a band), his outlook on life is punk in itself. He's extremely anti-establishment and is very open about his distaste of the rich and powerful; he has been known to use posh as an insult (please know he's not going to dislike someone on a personal level just for being rich, although if someone wealthy does befriend him then there is a good chance he'll make fun of them for it). Ultimately, Kael's politics are driven by empathy and a respect for other humans. Despite his cold and distant exterior, Kael does genuinely care about people.

Kael has a distinct London accent, leaning more towards the East End. It's not especially strong or thick but it's still very much a London accent. (And I mean that it's not especially strong by London standards; he still sounds extremely English.) He's fluent in English and Korean, and conversational in Japanese.

He loves spicy food. Like, really loves it. And he has a high tolerance for it. It's not a problem, even when it makes his eyes water and his nose run. He also has a high tolerance for alcohol. And he's really not afraid of heights. Or danger. It all makes for a pretty reckless person. He is scared of bugs though, ESPECIALLY spiders. And he has very mixed feelings about horses (he doesn't think they should be that big; don't ask).

Kael has a bunch of piercings, mostly ear piercings. He has several in each year and one navel piercing. He has no interest in getting any more. He also has some tattoos, five in total. He hasn't added any for a good few years but he's not against getting more. They're all black ink tattoos without colour and any further tattoos would be in the same vein. Specific locations are; right below his collarbone, his left wrist, above his right hipbone (but below his ribs), between his shoulder blades and down his spine.

THE SCARLET NIGHTMARE

For Kael, life under the Scarlet Nightmare had been all-encompassing. Even at his most subservient, he had a strong need to cling to a sense of personal identity and this meant distancing himself as much as he could from the sorry bastard whose DNA he shared. He's very aware of his status as a clone and has deliberately tried to block out any memories that aren't his own.

Growing up in the facility he'd been sort of a loner, a quiet kid with a knack for getting into fights he never started, but there was one kid just a year older than him who reached out and stuck up for him; he'd always be there to pull Kael up off the cold hard floor of the facility dorm rooms after a fight, always there to help patch up his cuts and scrapes. He'd help Kael lift chin up high any times he started to doubt his place in the world and his role in the Scarlet Nightmare system. They were best friends, inseparable and as close as brothers.

This friend was everything Kael was not. He was bright and open and friendly. He was good at following orders and never felt any urge to bite the hand that fed him and he didn't seem to piss the other kids off the way Kael always did.

Eventually, it was decided that his friend would train to become a Hitman and, shortly after, Kael was assigned the role of Mercenary so, as luck would have it, they were paired together. It was a partnership that would require deep trust and the pair had already demonstrated how well they could work together. They made a perfectly devastating team.

Yet, as time stretched on, Kael's doubts only grew; although this was the only life had ever known, he could feel himself breaking under the weight of it, under the impossible-to-bury guilt of what he'd done. He could have sworn the stench of death clung to him. And, so, he wondered, was he really alive if he was only born to kill? The partnership between the Hitman and Mercenary was beginning to show cracks and, after enough missions had gone awry due to Kael's dwindling confidence, the Mercenary was deemed a liability. Something to be rid of.

The Shadow assigned to take him out failed. They had aimed perfectly, hit their intended target, but they had failed to even touch Kael. Despite his desperate attempts to defend Kael to their handlers and to help Kael pull himself together, his partner had sensed this moment might come. He'd seen the faintest hint of movement in the distance and thrown himself in front of Kael without a moment's hesitation, driving away the spooked Shadow. The bullet pierced his throat and he died, choking on his own blood in Kael's arms.

Kael's world shattered and he lived in a haze for the next while; all those strong feelings of doubt and rebellion had been numbed, and he returned to the Scarlet Nightmare as normal. After he'd switched off his emotions, he was able to return to his previous heights and the higher-ups lost interest in him. But he'd grown clumsy too. He suffered a near-fatal injury during a mission and was put on bed rest. A week of good rest and some time to himself where he could just think was all it took for Kael to come back for himself. There was no other choice. He needed to escape the Scarlet Nightmare, even if it put a target on his back for the rest of his life.

THE REAL WORLD

The transition to normal life was not easy for Kael. No longer having an outlet for his excess energy and recklessness, he did stupid things, illegal things. He got into fights. Almost got arrested a few times. He the first year in particular isolating himself but, as time passed, he was able to find a shitty job and a shitty apartment to live in, even make a few friends. The nightmares never faded. He'd wake in the night, drenched in a cold sweat and haunted by all the awful things he'd done in the name of following orders.

Despite everything, he was able to rekindle a once discouraged love of music. The piano and the guitar were borrowed talents, something the original Kael must have nurtured but he was so enamoured with it that he taught himself more. Learned to play the bass as well. He started writing his own music as an emotional release and began to work the streets as a busker, armed with nothing but a guitar and his voice. At some point along the way, he wound up the bassist for the band, Vain Rogues and the Ghost Orchestra, with whom he'd travel from place to place.

Eventually, he'd meet someone in Busan, South Korea. It had started as a one night stand. By this point, Kael was more than used to these encounters. He'd found a casual comfort in the intimacy of sex with strangers. It wasn't supposed to matter. Except that, this time, it did. They were different. Hyeong Eunji was different. The infatuation brought him back to her again and again, and before long it had changed shape and grown into love instead. He decided to put the band aside for a while, settling in Seoul while he figured himself out and, although he was reluctant to admit it, because he didn't want to leave Eunji behind, even if she always kept him just at arm's length.

Eventually, Eunji leaves. The only notice he receives of this is a letter and a child, Eunji's beloved daughter, Hana. The letter reveals to him the truth that Hana is also his child and that Eunji has left her safety in his hands.He'd known Hana from before and been fond of her but he'd always assumed she was the daughter of some other man. He'd never questioned it. It had never mattered. But it mattered now. All of a sudden, Kael was a father. And he was going to do everything is power to keep his daughter safe while Eunji was on the run.

The fear of being found by Eunji's gang sent Kael back to London for a short time. Hana would begin to attend school there and she picked up on English quickly with Kael's help. Although he didn't have a lot of money and he didn't feel like a particularly good father, Kael loved Hana. Her presence filled a deep void in his life and washed away the loneliness. He still woke up terrified in the night but sometimes she'd appear by his bedside and try to comfort him in the same way he would when she had bad dreams. Soon they would move across the world once more; when Cyrek calls him in for a favour, Kael ups and moves to Anchorage, Alaska with Hana in tow.

ANCHORAGE, ALASKA

Nowadays, Kael lives in a caravan with Hana. He's probably not the most well-equipped father in the world but he's a good and loving father who tries his best to do well by his daughter. He has rejoined the band, taking up the mantle of bassist once more, but that was not what brought him to Anchorage. He'd come all this way to fill a role in the biker gang, the Bastards, where he now works as the Tail Gunner. He's pretty broke, with most of what money he does receive going straight to Hana's care, but he's scraping by and, if nothing else, he's free. The nightmares and the need to keep looking over his shoulder don't sting so bad when you're surrounded by allies.

Kael moved to the town just before the murder of Willow Cho-Iverson and, thanks to the Bastards' implication in that incident, he has not known a day's peace since getting here.

[priestbitmoved]

" you better quit starin' at me, man, " donnie hissed as he shoulder checked @mortange, his fists clenched and his shoulders hunched. several long seconds passed, and he scanned the shocked faces of the bystanders gawking at them, horrified that their evening had been disturbed so abruptly. after spotting a young teenager in the crowd, donnie decided against baring his teeth at the other vampire and lowered his voice. " if you got somethin' to say t'me, either spit it the fuck out or fuck off. i ain't in the mood for dealin' with any other leeches tonight. "

[comet-wire]

Fuck not having cable lmao y'all are gonna hear me bitch/j+lh

[normaltothemax]

@detectiveconnor liked this for a starter (accepting!)

“I didn’t kill them.” This was bullshit. “This is bullshit.” This was all such bullshit. They were being framed for a goddamn massacre, every news channel was calling them a murderer, and all they’d done was try and protect people. Cate and Sam were being hailed as heroes, and Jordan and company were taking the fall. Clearly agitated, Jordan’s hands balled into fists on the table. They weren’t sure what to expect here, so they sat in the dumb, uncomfortable chair in their invulnerable male form, just in case. Knowing they couldn’t be hurt made them feel a tiny bit better, but their eyes kept darting to the door, as if they were expecting someone to kick it in at any moment and drag them, kicking and screaming, down to The Woods.

[nobuverse]

@mysticallities ll Starter Call ( No Longer Accepting )

"I said cut it out, idiot! I'm not here to fight you!"

The servant could understand why the mage would be startled at the sudden intrusion into her home, but Nobunaga had to admit she wasn't expecting for this strong of a reaction. Honestly - maybe she'd forgotten after her time in chaldea that many mages could stand their own ground.

She dares to lower her arm for a moment to speak again. ( It stings - those Gandr shots were no joke -!)

"If you just give me a minute, I'll get out!"

Stupid, damn uncoordinated ray-shifts. There couldn't have been a worse place for her to manifest in.

[invcntions]

closed starter for @lullcbies

“ i swear to god, caro - if you're sneaking out i'm going to hunt you down and kill you myself. ” groggy worlds grumbled at the faint noise pulling him from the edges of sleep, disrupting what had to still be the early hours of the morning as vance pulled a hand tiredly over his face. “ can you just come back to bed. ” he sighed without opening his eyes. “ please. ” it was an unfamiliar addition to the request, tiredness preventing too much thought going into the words when he'd rather have the blonde next to him.

[doomdays]

it's been days, but akilah's hands still tremble from stitching. five years ago, it was her in that position, watching as her girl scout troop leader did the emergency stitching on her own arm after a hiking excursion gone wrong -- but she was experienced, had the proper resources, and was steady. she can't get van's screams out of her head now, thoughts blurried so much that she's convinced herself she did a bad job ( better you than misty, mari had said, but that doesn't wash away akilah's fears, doesn't make the ringing stop quiet or the shaking stop. )

van seems to have kept to herself, while the rest of the cabin is more somber than ever at their failure to find an exit, but her mind only bounces between van and the wolves, refusing to think too far ahead -- optimism hasn't done them much good as is. as akilah moves closer, she wonders if @slaughtyr would prefer to be alone; she knows if it were her in that position, she would, but leaving it alone doesn't feel right. she's too uneasy, needs some kind of confirmation that van is still okay --- the wolves didn't win, but the wilderness might have.

❝  hi. ❞ her voice is quiet, like she's afraid to take up too much space. ' are you okay ' comes to mind first, but there's no way any of them are okay right now, especially after any last bit of hope had diminished. ❝  i brought you some water. ❞ she sets it next to her, and it feels like some excuse, so she urges herself to go on. ❝  i just wanted to check on you. you don't have to tell me how you are, okay, i know, what a stupid question anyway, but --- i just wanted to say, if you need any help, can you just let me know? i know i kind of had to, like, make everything worse before it got better, but i'm here. if you need me. ❞ she's desperate to find something light to cheer her up, the way van always does to everyone else, and she remembers mari's words. ❝  you know, better me than misty, ❞ she says, forcing a small smile.   

[lghtyear]

⁽ ᴿᴼᴳᴱᴿ ⁾       . . .     ‘    requested by @warspun :       no longer accepting !    ⁽ ᴼᵁᵀ ⁾

" hey babe , let's go out tonight ! you like me , and i like it all . we like dancing and we look divine . "

. inspo : rebel rebel , david bowie .

[thcmcnstcr-a]

@pantslessoptimism

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ— Lying through her teeth was part of the job. So, when a stranger wound up at her motel room, her guard was immediately up. Having recently finished a case she'd been working on for months, she knew she should have moved on before now. She wasn't all that worried; if this really was a hunter, she'd probably killed her friend. She was sure she wouldn't be anymore difficult, should she need to. She had to do her research, though, make sure she deserved it.

"No, I'm sorry, I don't remember much about him. We met at the bar, talked for a while. I'll admit I went home with him, but it wasn't... It definitely wasn't anything that would have killed him, if you know what I mean. Which is kind of embarrassing to admit to, but... I get it. Why you're asking me. I'm sorry I can't be of more help."