#it would look so innocent like some typical branded stuff BUT as soon as someones looks for this...

[scrollll]

"You wouldn't download a shirt from the internet", "You wouldn't just pirate-" Shut up, if Copy a Bangkok doesn't release merch soon, I will take all the pictures of all the clothes they had AND WILL MAKE THEM MYSELF.

That's not my first rodeo, and I really want a hoodie with their innocent name stamped on it, just so that I can run around, meet the eyes of strangers and somewhere, sometime... see a knowing look, feel the glint and meet another familiar soul.

We will nod to each other, from one deranged to another and we shall respect the fight it took

[flying-guinea-pig]

Not What He Seems (ch.1)

(Prefer to read this on AO3?)

(It’s happening folks. The big reveal, four years in the making.)

NotWhat He Seems: Chapter 1

Thomas' heart always beat a little faster when he summoned something, even after several years in this job. It was the thrill of calling a powerful being into this reality with only your wits and some chalk lines as protection.

Beëlzebob was an intermediate-level demon. He took the appearance of every cliché devil ever - hairy black goat legs, a ridiculously buff and gleaming red upper body, large curled horns. The works.

He was also not cooperating at all.

"You are... di̵s̢tra͢c̢te͜d," the demon whispered, his voice echoing back strangely from the corners of the summoning lab. The shadows seemed to thicken.

Thomas kept his face impassive. These were just some special effects, after all. His binding circle was perfect, he didn't need to worry.

"I have outlined our offer in this document. These are the terms you have previously discussed at length with my colleague," he said, reaching out slightly to hand Beëlzebob the carefully rolled up contract. "All should be in order."

The demon unrolled it and took his sweet time reading it through. He would make a good addition to the safe summons list, despite being a bit higher level than their usual choices. This old-fashioned approach, with the written contract and all - it would teach the students to be patient and give them time to focus on the details before shaking on anything.

"Yes," the demon said, dragging a black claw over the parchment. "These terms are acceptable. However, there is one issue."

"Is there?"

A horrible, fanged grin. "The contract must be written in your o̦̰͚w̮̮n̬͇̹̕ blood, mortal."

Maybe it was his experience with grandstanding demons, or Tyrone had been rubbing off on him, but Thomas was not impressed. "That wasn't in the agreement."

"You will rewrite it. Ḩè̲̙͙̩̤r̦e̹̦ ͏͕̥a̝̱̺͟n̘͔d ̛̦̱̲̖n̩͈̪o̰̻͓͓͢w̺͍͎̦.̪̣͇̩́"

"No, I don't think so," Thomas said, mildly. Seriously? All that work was just wasted? Typical. He was not going to use his own blood to write it, sheesh. With all those clauses and addendums the thing was way too long. Not to mention willingly given human blood had power - power that wasn't a part of this offer.

The shadows twisted - the candles flared. "You will, little mortal, or I will step over this boundary and write it myself, straight from your veins."

"This attitude is not convincing me you're a good fit for our list."

"You have summoned me and I will not leave without my deal!" Red-tinged smoke filled the circle, edging over the chalk lines and spreading into the room. It stank of sulphur and decay.

Thomas coughed. Dramatics aside, maybe it was time to get rid of Beëlzebob. Too bad, Hicks would be disappointed to cross off another name on the safe summons list… It had shrunk a lot in the past years. If this kept up their students would soon only get to summon the Organ Duck. If they couldn’t offer a proper practical education they might eventually run out of interested students as well, which was bad news for the survival of the demonology department.

"Whoa, did someone drop a rotten egg in here?"

Tyrone usually didn't barge in during summonings, especially when they were trying to get more demons for the safe summons list, but this time Thomas didn't mind. The open door let in some fresh air and that was very welcome at the moment.

Tyrone entered the room, waving away some of the smoke. "Hey, Hicks mentioned you wanted to have a talk?"

"What? Oh, yeah," Thomas said, distracted. The smoke was dissipating with record speed and Beëlzebob was visible again, staring at Tyrone in abject terror. "I'm a bit busy right now though."

"Do you need any help?" Tyrone offered. His smile was perfectly friendly.

Thomas glanced at Beëlzebob. "As a matter of fact, he was just leaving."

"Yes! Yes indeed," the demon hurried to say. "Just leaving. Right now. I’m going. Big misunderstanding, you know how it is, have to be somewhere else, goodbye now!"

“Thanks buddy," Tyrone said. "Very accommodating of you, leaving without a deal like that. I will remember this. Here, have a snack."

With a snap of his fingers a familiar deep-fried ball appeared, partly wrapped in a festive paper towel.

Beëlzebob caught it with a flinch and popped away without another sound.

“So, what exactly did you want to talk about?”

“Just a second, let me clean up first.” He frowned at Tyrone. “Speaking of cleaning up, what happened to your shirt?”

“What?” Tyrone glanced down at the brown stains on his usually so crisp white shirt, and made a face. “Aw man, seriously?”

“Do I want to know?”

“I bumped into Banerjee on my way here. He was carrying samples. And he didn’t even apologize, can you believe it?”

Banerjee was the Cryptozoology department’s newest hire, working on his doctorate involving – honestly, Thomas had no idea, he just knew it involved a lot of mud. He wasn’t aware of Tyrone’s true identity. The university staff tried to keep that one under wraps. Parents might object to their children coming to a university where Alcor the Dreambender was frequently hanging around.

“He owes me a new shirt.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You can literally make it brand new with a thought.”

“He doesn’t know that. It’s about the principle of the thing.”

Shaking his head, Thomas set to work. To his students it often came as a surprise that practical demonology involved a lot of cleaning up. The preparations were extensive, of course, but afterwards someone had to put away the candles and mop up the chalk, blood, and other assorted fluids the demons occasionally left behind. Beëlzebob in particular had left footprints of some kind of sulphurous ooze that he probably shouldn’t handle without gloves…

Safely removing summoning circles was an art, really. It’s not like you could just start scrubbing away with these things – the outer part was usually the binding circle, and you never knew if the demon was still hanging around, invisible, waiting for you to make a mistake. Not that he expected something to happen while Alcor the Dreambender was literally waiting at the door, but proper caution was a good habit to have.

“You know, I could clean this up for you with a snap of my fingers,” Tyrone mused, lounging against the wall while he waited. His shirt held no trace of the brown stains.

“Are you offering?”

“For free?”

Thomas snickered at the almost scandalous look on Tyrone’s face. Put down his cleaning supplies. He had planned to do this differently, but you know what? Now might be as good a time as ever. And it would be fun, wouldn’t it, to put Tyrone off-balance for a moment? “How about a deal then?”

Tyrone perked up.

“You get this room back to its cleaned-up, usable state,” said Thomas, and felt the smile break through on his face. “In return, you get to be my best man.”

To his credit, it didn’t take Tyrone long to realise. “Thomas! You finally popped the question then?”

“Yep. I said I was going to do it soon, this can’t be a surprise –“

“And she said yes?”

“We did talk about it beforehand, you know –“

“Congrats!”

“Thanks,” Thomas grinned. “So, what do you say? Fair warning though, being my best man comes with certain responsibilities. Making sure I’m on time at the wedding and such.”

Organising the stag night as well, technically. Though Thomas suspected Brad already had some thoughts in that direction.

“I’ve been someone’s best man before, I know how it goes,” Tyrone said. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Thomas.”

The room around them shifted, the magical arrays fading away and taking the trailing odour of brimstone with them.

Tyrone’s expression shifted too, as he let go of Thomas’ hand.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“Nothing.”

“You seem upset?”

“I am happy for you,” Tyrone said. “It’s just… you’re getting old.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No, I mean – look at you! Getting married. Maybe kids and a house, soon.”

“I’m not buying a house on a teacher’s salary,” Thomas said. “The rest… who knows? We’ll see how it goes. Is that what’s upsetting you? That I’m growing up?”

Tyrone shrugged awkwardly. He seemed smaller somehow. “You’re going to be very busy with all that – that life stuff. It’s happening already. Everyone is so busy. Your dates with Elisha, Eddy’s got his new job, Brad’s mucking around in his dad’s company - when was the last time we all hung out, just for fun? Not because it was someone’s birthday or anything? It’s been ages since we had a game night.”

That… had been a while, true. “I guess that’s what happens when you get older. There are more demands on your time, you get to juggle more responsibilities.”

“I’m not getting older.”

“Right.” Thomas took a deep breath.  “Listen, so… we’re busy more often. And it’s not like in college, where we all could just hang out all the time. But you’re basically part of the family, Tyrone. Alcor. You’ll always have a place here. And I’m sure the rest of the gang would say the same.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Thomas said. And smiled, to lighten the mood. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“You’d just miss all the amazing deals I make with you.”

“Of course” Thomas said, glad Tyrone was now teasing instead of moping. “I’m clearly only using you for your clout as Alcor. You’ve made my life so much easier.”

Tyrone mimed a gasp. “Sarcasm, Thomas? Ouch.”

“Not entirely sarcasm,” Thomas admitted. “You do make my life easier, sometimes. When you feel like it. For instance, vanishing that sulphurous stuff Beëlzebob left behind, I was not looking forward to handling that. The smell lingered.”

Tyrone suddenly looked way too innocent. “Oh, I didn’t exactly vanish it.”

Oh Stars. “What did you do?”

“Might have put it somewhere. Like, oh, I dunno… Banerjee’s car.”

Thomas facepalmed. Serves him right for making a vague deal like that. “Is it at least safe?”

“Define ‘safe’.”

“Tyrone!”

“Don’t worry, Thomas, I promised not to deliberately harm the university’s students and faculty, remember? He’ll be fine.”

“All this for an accidental stain on your shirt, really?”

Tyrone folded his arms in front of him. “He didn’t apologize.”

Thomas shook his head, exasperated.

Demons. They really knew how to hold grudges.

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

The Mindscape was a vast, endless realm where the strong hunted the weak and territories were defined, invaded, and redefined. This was the place where demons lived, and they didn’t like each other any better than they liked humans. The collective noun for a group of demons, as they say, is ‘a carnage’. Teaming up was rare, and more often than not ended in the stronger one destroying the other as soon as their goal was met. That was just the natural order of things.

Even so, sometimes even they needed a neutral place to go. Somewhere deals could be made without worrying about being devoured. This place was the Midway Bar, run by a demon known only as the Bartender, and for the past six years it had attracted a group of regulars.

They took over the table in the corner. Sometimes the group lost a member, occasionally it gained one. They weren’t here to make deals. They were here to drown their misery and sneak away before a stronger demon took advantage of their intoxication to ambush them outside these walls.

Beëlzebob entered the Midway Bar. He went straight to the Bartender, who after a short conversation pointed in the direction of the gloomy table in the corner.

“Get lost,” Flaga the Eagle-winged said, at his approach.

The demon next to her, who mostly looked like a giant fungus with teeth, curled a green tendril around their glass. “Yeah. This is a private party.”

Beëlzebob paused. He was stronger than each of them, he knew. But this was no place for threats. “Apologies for the interruption. May I sit?”

That wasn’t how demons talked to each other, especially not to a bunch of low-levels like them. They shared a suspicious glance. The one across from Flaga, some kind of feathered crocodile hybrid, raised his empty glass meaningfully.

Of course. “Listening can parch the throat so,” Beëlzebob said. “Let me get those refilled for you, and then we̙̮'̥͉̘ll̟̮ ț̳̮a��̩̗̥l̯̹̹k��.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Soldier Boy (Part 1)

Summary: The reader is saved by Soldier Boy while out one night but she knew she had it handled. He takes a liking to her which fits right in with her plans of getting close to him. The only problem is she might end up liking him after all...

Masterlist

Pairing: Superhero!Dean x reader

Word Count: 3,100ish

Warnings: language, frightening situation, angst, fluff

A/N: Enjoy!

____

“I didn’t need your help, jerk,” you said, stomping on Soldier Boy’s foot as you left the alley. He bent down and rubbed his toe as you stormed past.

“Miss, are you alright?” he asked, suddenly right by your side. Damn super-powered asshole.

“It was one guy that wanted to mug me. I had it handled. Now back off,” you said, shoving on him.

“You’re not a particularly kind person,” he mumbled. “Oh! You’re in shock. We should get you someplace warm and wrapped typically in a blanket of some sort.”

“You’re ridiculous Soldier Boy,” you said, rolling your eyes as you walked away.

“My name’s Dean,” he said. You stopped and spun around, raising an eyebrow as he walked over at a normal pace. “I’m Dean Winchester.”

“You’re a supe and you just told me your real name? Are you insane?” you asked. He raised his chin and you shook your head. “You know people are pissed at supes. They’re going after them and no offense but honey, you ain’t got shit on most of those other guys out there.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he said. “I’m walking you home.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t think you have much of a choice,” he said with a smirk. “Move.”

“I know people. I could fuck up your life so bad,” you said. “You little dumbass.”

“Walk,” he said, grabbing your arm.

“Ouch,” you said, trying to shake him off but no way that was happening. “Can you let go of me?”

“No. You’re slow. Now where do you live,” he asked. 

“Brunswick street,” you mumbled. You sighed and flashed your eyes open quickly, taking a deep breath as you looked around and scenery had changed. “What was that?”

“Like I said. You’re slow,” he said. “Which townhouse?”

“Yellow front door,” you said. He dragged you over there and up the steps, letting go of you roughly as you got your key out. You unlocked it and waited for a shove inside but all he did was hum and turn around. “You’re not coming in?”

“You’re home safely. Why, do you think your home isn’t safe?” he asked, ears perking up.

“No. I just…”

“Just what?”

“Just thought...I know most of the world loves you guys but I know people that’s lives have been ruined by them. My brother was killed by one of you and they didn’t even care. You people don’t care about us. You just care about your power and authority and a supe like you dragging me home to my house...I was pretty sure you wanted something.”

“Oh,” he said. “That’s kinda fucked up of you to assume of me.”

“Am I wrong to assume it?” you asked. “I know you people don’t care about that sort of thing.”

“There you go again,” he said, getting right in your face. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

“Don’t blame me if you’re sensitive,” you said. You flung the door shut, taking a step back when a hand caught it. It pushed open slowly and you took another step back, the whole building shaking when he slammed it shut after himself. “Back off.”

“I’m a superhero. My literal job is to protect you so you can calm the fuck down.”

“Your job is to get high off your power and you? You don’t even have very good ones,” you said. He shot a hand out and pushed you back against the wall. He grabbed your arms and lifted you off the ground, staring you down. “Just take what you want and go, asshole.”

“I don’t understand you,” he grit out. “I saved you. Why do you hate me?”

“Because you’re-”

“Oh,” he said, letting you go, your feet hitting the ground. “You don’t...you don’t like supes in general.”

“A little slow on the uptake,” you said to yourself. “If you’re not gonna pull anything, can you get out of my house?”

“Why?” he asked, voice suddenly lighter. “I’m a good person. I save people. I mess up sometimes but I help more people than I hurt.”

“Are you serious? I literally told you that supes are power hungry assholes and you wonder why I don’t…” you trailed off. He looked upset, like this was brand new news to him. It clicked for you why he was acting so strangely. He genuinely didn’t want a thing from you for him saving you. “Soldier Boy. I think you ought to hang up the cape.”

“I don’t wear a cape,” he said, glancing down at himself. You smirked as he patted his tight shorts and he lifted his head.

“Maybe you are good. Someone’s going to take advantage of that and you and make you just like the other supes. You should go back to being Dean Winchester before you get hurt.”

“Well...no,” he said. “I help people. I helped you tonight. I can’t just focus on myself. That’s selfish. As long as there are supervillains out there, there needs to be superheroes too. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You idiot. Don’t you understand that it’s not that black and white? Most superheroes, they’re villains themselves.”

“Do you think I’m a villain?” he asked.

“I think you’re sweet and someday, yeah, you’ll be just like the rest of them.”

“I’ll just have to prove you wrong then, won’t I,” he said, lifting his chin. You looked around and he put a hand on your forehead, a dull warmth spreading through you. You smiled and felt the beginning of the bruises on your arms disappear, the roughed up skin of your knee healing up from when the mugger had pushed you. You blinked when he dropped his hand away.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Be more careful,” he said.

“I had it handled,” you said as he began to leave.

“You are just fire and spice, aren’t you? Can’t you just say thank you like a normal person and leave it at that,” he said.

“This is coming from the grown man in a skin tight spandex suit...and what’s up with the shorts dude. I mean those bowlegs are hot, don’t get me wrong but you look like you’re fucking twelve.”

“For your information, I’m getting a new suit very soon, with pants,” he said, turning his head up.

“Bet it still shows off that perky ass,” you said with a smirk.

“You…” he said, waving his hand about before he threw it up in the air. “You drive me insane, you know that?”

“Yeah. It’s fun,” you laughed. He stepped in front of you and pecked a lightning fast kiss to your lips. You stared and you returned it before he was stepping back. 

“Be more careful. Please,” he said.

“Alright,” you said. He started to go and paused at the door.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“If you’re ever in trouble...just stay out of trouble, would ya?”

“I’ll try,” you said.

“Good. Have a good evening,” he said, walking out the door. You went over to it and caught him down on the sidewalk, throwing his head back.

“Hey supe,” you said, Dean turning around. “I hope you prove me wrong too.”

He smiled and you felt heat in your face.

“See you around, Y/N.”

“You too, Soldier Boy.”

Three Weeks Later

“Dude!” you shouted at the supe that had just landed on the hood of your car. He rolled his eyes and slid off, walking into the restaurant he was headed to. “Asshole!”

You sighed and stared at the dent, wondering how much it was going to cost you. 

“I heard you were in trouble,” said Soldier Boy, jogging right up to your side with a smirk.

“My car...alright. I’m digging the new outfit,” you said, turning your head behind him. “Yup. Ass still perky.”

“Well, I heard you say asshole so I figured you were in need.” He reached over and undid the dent with his hand, offering a smile. “Fender bender?”

“One of your dick friends landed on it when the sidewalk is literally right here,” you said. “But thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” he said. You looked him up and down, his outfit still ridiculous but it looked better in pants and with the darker color. He tugged off his mask and shoved it in his pocket, crossing his arms at you. “So. How you been?”

“Alright. You got a wardrobe upgrade.”

“It tested well or something,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just happy to have pants.”

You laughed, Dean leaned back against your car.

“Do you want to get some food?” he asked.

“Food? Like dinner?”

“Yeah. I’m hungry. You’re hungry. Let’s go eat something,” he said.

“How do you-”

“I can hear your stomach rumbling. I have good hearing,” he said. He smiled and you looked around. “I’m buying.”

“You’re a supe. You get stuff for free all the time,” you said.

“Yeah. But I’m still paying,” he said. “Come on. It beats whatever you were gonna make.”

“Soldier Boy, you’re insufferable, I swear.”

“That’s not a no,” he said. He stood and held out his arm. You rolled your eyes but slipped your arm through it, walking down the sidewalk with him. “I still an asshole today?”

“Night’s young,” you said, Dean chuckling. “So Soldier Boy, what about me is particularly interesting to you? You got a thing for women that put you in your place?”

“Maybe. Maybe I got a thing for badass chicks that don’t care if you’re a supe or not,” he smirked.

“Oh being a supe is a negative for you.”

“Yet here you are,” he said.

“Don’t you get whiplash from being innocent one second and cocky the next?”

“Not really,” he said. “What would you like to eat?”

“I could go for a burrito. Like a massive burrito,” you said.

“I know just the place.”

One Hour Later

“Wait, wait,” you said, opening your mouth midway through your second burrito. You let out a deep burp, Dean laughing in his seat across from you. “That was good, huh?”

“I’ll give it a seven,” he said.

“I’ll take it,” you said, Dean’s smile fading away when he looked behind you.

“Hey! Soldier Boy! What are you doing out so late? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” said a guy, someone else laughing with him. Dean looked down as you saw two supes come over to the table. “She’s pretty.”

“Don’t touch her,” growled Dean when one started to move towards you. 

“Not in a sharing mood,” said the other guy.

“She’s my friend,” said Dean.

“Friend? She’s not even that hot.”

“You’re never gonna get in with the big boys if you’re hanging around some random chick,” said the first guy.

“Can you leave us alone already?” you asked. The one supe next to you didn’t like that and touched your shoulder, your whole body freezing. 

“Oh she likes you. They’re on a date,” he said before he moved his hand away and you took a deep breath. “She’ll totally have sex with you no problem.”

“Guys,” said Dean. 

“Just busting your chops,” they said before they grabbed a table near the back. You poked at your food and frowned.

“Ignore them,” said Dean.

“What did he just do,” you asked quietly.

“Read your thoughts.”

“I don’t...I didn’t…” you said. Your lips pursed together and Dean asked for some containers to bring home the leftovers. You barely waited for him to hand over some money before you were out of your seat and headed for the door.

“Y/N,” said Dean, catching up to you outside. “Those guys are jerks. Forget about them.”

“You’re gonna be like them. You want in with the Seven and I know your reputation. You’re gonna get rid of that innocent guy and turn into something else to get what you want. I’m not gonna get made fun of or have someone invade my head like that,” you said.

“Come with me,” he said, grabbing your hand. You barely had a chance to blink before you were streets away and at the front of a very nice apartment building. “Let’s finish our meal where no one will bother us.”

“You want us to finish our meal somewhere private so that afterwards, you can get sex.”

He rolled his eyes and again you felt a flurry go by before you were upstairs and standing in the foyer of a very large and expensive looking apartment.

“You can’t just do that all the time, you know,” you said. You grabbed your container out of his hand and stormed over to his kitchen counter. “I’m not having sex with you either.”

“Okay,” he said. You started eating again, Dean taking the seat beside you, his eyes on you the whole time. “You do like me though.”

“Did you have...did you have your friends come by on purpose?” 

“Yes,” he said. 

“You’re unbelievable,” you said. You left the little food that remained and headed for the door until Dean caught your arm and you nearly stumbled backwards. “This is your act. It’s how you do it. You play dumb to lure them in. I’m so fucking stupid.”

“I don’t particularly care about people if I’m being honest,” he said. “I like the admiration and the danger but the people, not so much.”

“Good for you.” You shrugged and he pulled you back to his chest. “Soldier Boy I swear-”

“You though...I care about you and that is very strange for me. I haven’t cared about anyone in a very long time.”

“Oh I bet you-”

“I am not good for good reasons. I admit that. I can get sex where I please with who I please. But since I met you, you are all I want. You are strong and capable and nothing about me impresses you. I don’t know why but I love that about you. You infuriate me because I want to prove you wrong. I want to be good to be good and I don’t know if I can do it. I’m one of the nicer ones too. I don’t know how to be what you wanted me to be.”

You grabbed his collar and tugged him down, kissing him with more force than you anticipated. He smiled and rested his hands on your hips as you pulled away.

“I’ll give you a chance. But you have to be good, Dean. If you start slipping towards becoming those dick friends of yours, I’m gone.”

“You’re okay with me not really caring about people?”

“No. But baby steps. You care about one human. You care about me. If you went from none to one, you can care about more.”

“Like I said, not sure if I’m capable.”

“At least one of us has some faith in you. You don’t want me to be another passing hookup. You want more.”

“Yes,” he said.

“Then prove me wrong and keep that sliver of good and let it get bigger. Push out the cocky crap. It you want me, it’s how it has to be.”

“Understood. I will try my best,” he said. 

“Good.” You gave his kiss a cheek and went back to your food. “That’s all you’re getting in the meantime. Now tell me more bad jokes.”

“You liked those?”

“They weren’t too bad,” you said with a smile. “Let’s finish our meal, Soldier Boy.”

“How’s it going?” asked a voice from your kitchen in the early morning. You paused and flipped on the light, nodding at the man standing there. “He under your thumb yet?”

“Getting there,” you said, getting some water from the fridge. “A supe friend of his read my mind tonight. He didn’t dive too deep. We’re good.”

“I told you it was a good idea to keep you in the dark,” he said.

“Are you going to hurt him?” you asked.

“You don’t actually have feelings for him, do you?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the difference?”

“There’s not any,” you said. 

“Good. He hurts people. They all do. Remember that when you’re making out with him.”

“Isn’t me seducing him the point?”

“Yeah. How long do you think you’ll need?”

“A few months.”

“You got one.”

“Two.”

“Fine. It’s plenty of time to get the puppy dog to trust you. He won’t be able to escape. The cell will be secure.”

“He’s not on the main team. He doesn’t know all their secrets.”

“No. But he knows some and I will thoroughly enjoy getting the answers out of him and getting rid of him once I do.”

“He’s kinda protective of me. You should be careful about dropping by unannounced,” you said.

“I’ll stay out of your hair. Two months, you bring him in,” he said.

“Yes boss,” you said as he went for your back door.

“Two months enough time to make him fall in love?”

“Probably. Why?”

“The more it hurts, the easier to break him. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

“Bye Butcher,” you said as he left. You finished off your glass and went up to bed, swallowing as you sat on the edge of it.

Some small part of you had fallen for him and that was so not in the plan. He was a supe. A stupid supe.

A stupid supe you could very easily see yourself falling in love with yourself if you weren’t careful.

_______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[sinful-imagines]

3 times Koichi was the mom friend and one time he was just a mom

aka The dumb Duwang Gang fic I spent far too long on 

AO3 link

Word count: 5442

1:

 It was a late Sunday afternoon, and Koichi was enjoying some much needed relaxation time. He wasn’t really doing anything in particular, just laying in bed and listening to the same handful of songs on repeat. Everything was calm and peaceful, just like Koichi wanted.

 So of course that’s when he gets a call from one of the most chaotic people in his life, Josuke.

 When they first met, Josuke seemed similar to Koichi in the sense that he was relaxed and levelheaded, but as their friendship developed he realized that this was not the case. Koichi didn’t mind all that much though, it was nice to have a bit of spice in his life. Sometimes it was a bit too much, though.

 He picked up the call after a few rings, a bit sad that his relaxation had been interrupted. But he tried to push that thought aside and let a smile grace his face. “Hey, what’s up?” He asked, sitting up and unplugging his headphones.

 “Oh, not much. But could I ask you for a favor?” Koichi was intrigued by this, seeing as Josuke rarely ever asked for favors, causing his mind to run with possible circumstances.

 “Sure! What do you need?” Koichi responded a bit too quickly, wanting to be a nice and reliable friend.

 “Oh thank god, I was so worried that you’d say no. I want to order something online but we’re moving soon so I don’t want it to arrive at our old address, so could I ship it to your place? I’ll pay you a few hundred yen for the trouble,” Koichi’s face lit up at that. He could be a good friend and get paid at the same time? It sounded perfect, and Koichi couldn’t wait to help out.

 “Absolutely! Just wondering though, what are you get-” Koichi started, but was cut off as Josuke hung up the call. He thought it was odd, but didn’t put too much thought into it. He sighed, laying back down and smiling.

 A few weeks later, a package arrived at Koichi’s door. Despite the fact that it was addressed to ‘Koochie Horse’ he immediately assumed it was Josuke’s package. He still had no idea about the contents of it, having completely forgotten about it until a few moments ago. Although he knew that it was probably nosy to snoop through whatever Josuke had bought, curiosity got the best of him and he decided to open up the package. After all, it was probably just a new textbook or that new racing game he’d been talking about for a while.

 Right?

 Wrong.

 The first thing innocent little Koichi saw upon opening the package was a small round container with the label ‘Gamer Girl Bath Water.’ He was confused to say the least and decided to take it out of the package, gasping quietly at the realization that it was in fact someone’s bathwater. Disgusted and disappointed at the same time, Koichi ran upstairs to give Josuke a call. He clicked on the contact as quickly as he could and eagerly waited for a response.

 “Yo, what’s u-”

 “The package came.”

 “Wait I can explain-” Josuke pleaded, very obviously holding back a laugh. “I did it ironically, I don’t actually want someone’s bathwater. Well, unless it’s Okuyasu’s. But he’s not selling it anyway so it doesn’t really matter.”

 “Josuke.. I..” Koichi paused for a minute to contemplate his life decisions that lead up to this moment, then continued. “I’m so disappointed in you. And I’m not even going to mention the last you wanting to buy Okuyasu’s bath water because that’s disgusting.” Koichi sighed, setting the accursed bath water on his nightstand.

 “I don’t blame you. Even Oku was disappointed in me, and I’m pretty sure he subscribed to her Onlyfans.”

 “That one wasn’t ironic, was it?” Koichi replied, his disappointment growing significantly as he realized that Okuyasu had paid for porn of a gamer girl.

 “Nope.”

 “I thought so.”

 2:

 After the whole bath water incident, Koichi became much more wary of Josuke’s antics. So when he asked if he wanted to have a sleepover for the first time, he was pretty nervous. Not to say that he wasn’t excited, he was just anxious that he was going to somehow be pressured into buying someone’s bath water.

 Luckily for Koichi, the night went completely normally at first. Well, as close to normally as you could ever get in Morioh. The three of them played a few different video games and talked about the serial killer running around the town, typical teenage stuff. It was only when Okuyasu started complaining that he was hungry did the mom friend in Koichi come out. The group walked to Josuke’s refrigerator after getting tired of Okuyasu’s complaining and collectively sighed as they saw the contents of it. There was a whole watermelon, a few eggs, and a singular slice of cheese. Just as Okuyasu suggested eating the watermelon whole, the group noticed something else on a lower shelf of the refrigerator. It was a small container of cookie dough from Kame Yu. It caused the three of them to gasp in excitement, but for different reasons. Josuke and Okuyasu, like most people, were planning to eat the cookie dough raw and then regret that decision when their stomachs were screaming in pain. Koichi, however, was planning to actually make the cookies. There should be enough dough to make at least one cookie for everyone, so that was the obvious way to go about things in his mind. He grabbed the container and took a quick glance at the back of it, which earned a confused look from the two idiots.

 “Oi Koichi, you’re not going to actually bake those, right?” Josuke asked, bewildered at the idea that anyone would waste perfectly good cookie dough by cooking it.

 “Of course I’m going to bake it.. that’s what you do with cookie dough?” Koichi replied, incredibly confused. Unless they were going to shove it up their asses (which he wouldn’t put past them) he couldn’t think of a reason why they wouldn’t want him to bake the cookies. And then it hit him. “Wait, were you guys planning to eat it raw?” Koichi asked, the disappointment he was feeling evident in his voice.

 “Well duh. Besides, that shit is too complicated anyway,” Okuyasu muttered, looking at Josuke for a split second to make sure that he wasn’t the only insane one.

 “Okuyasu you literally just put it in the oven. It’s not that complicated. Also it says DO NOT EAT RAW in massive lettering,” Koichi said, gesturing towards the comic sans warning on the front of the container.

 “Koichi you’re not even tall enough to reach the pan you need to put the cookies in. Plus they’ll take like 20 minutes to bake and if I have to listen to Okuyasu complain about how hungry he is one more time then I’m going to explode.” Josuke replied, stealing the container from Koichi and opening it up. “Oh wow, there’s more in here than I thought. There’s probably enough for you to make a few cookies and for us to have some of it if you still want to make them.”

 Koichi shook his head at first, but began to think about it more and more. He was getting hungry as well and didn’t feel like eating an entire watermelon so this was really his only option. Besides, he would have the opportunity to prove that he wasn’t insane and that cookie dough was better when made into actual cookies. Koichi took the container back from Josuke’s hand and carefully scooped out 5 balls of dough with a spoon that was laying on the counter. In retrospect he probably should have washed the spoon first, but he didn’t dwell on it for long. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you both end up with stomach aches.” Koichi warned as he handed the now halfway empty container of cookie dough back to the idiots. They ran back to Josuke’s room quickly and left Koichi to bake his cookies in peace. The first thing he needed to do was find a pan to cook them in, which proved difficult. He searched through almost every cabinet and drawer in his kitchen, only to find nothing but old cook books and cookie sheets. (which he also needed but not as much as the actual pan) Just as he was about to admit defeat, he noticed two more cabinets far above the oven that he was nowhere near tall enough to reach.

 Shit.

 Getting Josuke or Okuyasu to help wasn’t an option because he was NOT going to deal with the months of teasing that would result from it, so he had to improvise. He felt bad snooping around Josuke’s house, but he didn’t really have any other option. Koichi started by looking in his living room, and while he didn’t find any stools he did find a half asleep Tomoko next to an empty bottle of wine and a porno magazine. While that was interesting it wasn’t what he needed, so he kept looking. Eventually he found a sturdy looking chair and figured that would work as a stool. Luckily it did, and he was able to actually start making the cookies. He’s familiar with the Kame Yu brand of cookie dough, so it didn’t take him long at all to get them in the proper shape and size. Double checking the time and temperature, he put the tray into Josuke’s oven and waited. He considered going back to talk the two idiots but decided against it after hearing one of them scream “JUST BECAUSE I PUT SOMETHING IN MY ASS      ONCE     DOESN’T MEAN I’M GAY!” It caused Tomoko to stir a little bit, and that worried Koichi too much to leave the kitchen.

 After about 10 minutes of staring at the oven it finally beeped, signaling that the cookies were done. As Koichi opened the oven he smiled widely. They turned out perfectly; they were just the right size and they were the perfect shade of golden brown. They still needed to cool off though, but Koichi didn’t feel like waiting any longer. Besides, he could just wait for them to cool off while he was rubbing them in Josuke and Okuyasu’s faces. Carefully using an oven mitt to move them onto a plate, Koichi took a whiff of the cookies and smiled. This was certainly better than raw cookie dough. Once they were all onto a plate Koichi excitedly walked back to Josuke’s room. The heat from the still warm cookies burned his palms a bit, but he didn’t mind all that much. After all, he’d been through a lot worse than a bit of a burn. “See guys! I told you that they’re better this w-” Koichi cut himself off as he noticed that Okuyasu and Josuke were laying on the floor, cuddled up next to each other and moaning. To Koichi’s immediate relief they were in fact not fucking each other, but they’d eaten so much cookie dough that it was too painful to move.

 “Hhhhhhhgggg…. this was a bad idea…” Josuke whined, looking up at Koichi’s cookies with puppy dog eyes. “Can I have one? Please?” He said as Koichi looked away as quickly as possible. Josuke was hard to say no to normally, let alone with puppy dog eyes. He couldn’t help but look back after a few seconds, and by then he was making desperate grabby hands.

 “Sure, just take one though. But if you would’ve listened to me from the start then we’d have a lot more cookies and you both wouldn’t be in so much pain right now.” Koichi smiled as he realized that he’d won their little feud. He sat down next to Josuke and set the plate down next to him, sighing quietly in relief at the fact that his hands weren’t burning anymore.

 “Yeah whatever.. thanks though, these look delicious,” Josuke mumbled as both he and Okuyasu reached for a cookie. It was only then that Koichi remembered something he probably should have mentioned a while ago.

 “WAIT DON’T TOUCH THEM YET THEY’RE STILL BUR-”

 “OW KOICHI WHAT THE FUCK???”

 “..ning”

 3:

 Koichi is a good child. He never snuck out, never skipped school, never cheated on tests, and never even considered doing things that Josuke and Okuyasu did on a daily basis.

 He’s also very compassionate and worries for other people more than himself a lot of the time.

 Coupling these two things together, to say that Koichi was concerned that Josuke had been gone from school for the past week was a massive understatement. He kept saying that it was ‘just a cold’ and that he ‘felt mostly fine,’ but Koichi didn’t believe his words. He was incredibly worried about Josuke’s health, especially with all of the Stand users that were roaming around the town. The possibility that Josuke was attacked by a disease giving Stand was incredibly low, but it still worried Koichi a ton. Okuyasu didn’t seem to be anywhere near as worried, which confused him completely. He’d been gone for an entire school week, obviously something was wrong. He made sure to call Josuke every night and make sure he was okay, but those phone calls didn’t seem to alleviate his concerns in the slightest. He always seemed so sick and in pain during them that it made Koichi’s own throat start to hurt. So after the 5th day in a row of him being gone, Koichi made a decision. He decided that he would go to Kame Yu after school to buy a few things and then visit Josuke in hopes to make him feel a bit better.

 The school day went by normally like usual except for the fact that Josuke was absent once again. Rumors were starting to spread like wildfire about his absence, something that made Koichi even more worried for his friend.

 He went to Kame Yu immediately after school, texting his mom a short message explaining that he’d be gone for a little while. He didn’t have an exact list of things he wanted to buy, he only had a handful of general ideas in mind. He started by grabbing some donuts  and a slice of cheesecake from the bakery section of the store, two things he’d recently learned were some of Josuke’s favorites. After that he looked for some medicine to at the very least help with his pain. Koichi didn’t know what type of illness Josuke had, so he picked out a few general cough medicines like Tylenol and DayQuil. Lastly he went over to the junk food area of the store and grabbed a few miscellaneous things like chips and chocolate bars. The total only came to about two thousand yen, which Koichi didn’t mind paying in the slightest. Besides, Josuke had given him a cut of his lottery winnings a week prior so this was a good way to repay him somewhat.

 As he walked down the street to visit the ‘sick’ boy, Koichi contemplated calling Josuke to let him know about his arrival. He decided against it after a while though, remembering the few times he’d come over without a notice. He knocked on the door and waited patiently for a response. It took a lot longer than he expected, sparking worry in Koichi that he’d interrupted Tomoko while she was busy. He sighed in relief as someone opened the door, but looked up in a bit of confusion as Josuke opened the door instead. “Oh hi Koichi, what are you doing here? I’m glad you showed up though, I was getting pretty bored. Come on in, my room’s a bit messy though,” he chuckled as he motioned for Koichi to come inside. Koichi was thoroughly confused. He didn’t sound sick at all, and he didn’t even mention his illness. And why was he holding his Switch, he always said it was ‘the reason he was having homosexual thoughts’ for some reason? All of these concerns seemed to be answered immediately as Josuke started to speak once again. “Shit, you still think that I was sick right? Oops.” Josuke laughed nervously as he looked down.

 “Wait you’re not? Then why have you been missing school for so long? Is everything okay?” He asked as he followed Josuke upstairs and to his room. He set the bags of medicine and junk food down next to his bed and gave Josuke another confused look.

 “Okay Koichi you’re going to think that I’m insane and I don’t really blame you but I’ve started a business. And I faked an illness so that I can stay home for a couple days and keep on top of all of my customers and orders. Also what’s in the bags?” Not once did Josuke look up from his Switch during this interaction, as he was too busy trying to farm for popular villagers. “Okay so here’s the idea. I get Nook Miles tickets from playing the game. I use the tickets to farm for rare villagers. I search for Raymond specifically. I get Raymond. I sell Raymond on EBay for 6,000¥. I use a portion of that to buy more Nook Miles Tickets and then the cycle continues until I’m rich.”

 Koichi burst out with laughter at both the ridiculous idea and the completely serious look on Josuke’s face while telling him about it. He couldn’t help himself. Buying Animal Crossing villagers? Who would do that? His ‘business’ venture didn’t change the fact that he skipped school to work on it though, and Koichi’s laughter quickly turned into disappointed silence as he remembered. “Yeah but you still skipped an entire week of school to do this though.. I was really worried about you.. That’s why I came over here, I brought you medicine and some food to help you feel better,” Koichi muttered, feeling a bit dumb for not even considering the possibility that he’d just been skipping school.

 “Oh my god that’s why you came over? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worried! I’ll give you a cut of the Animal Crossing money for making you panic and for going out of your way to get all of this stuff for me. I really appreciate it,” Josuke said, still not looking up from his Switch. “I thought I was only going to be gone for a day so I just said I was sick and then my business exploded and I just had to keep going along with it an- GODDAMNIT LEOPOLD NOBODY LIKES YOU YOU DUMB SHIT!”

 “Oh it’s fine, I’m just glad you’re okay. How’d you manage to convince your mom that you were sick for an entire week though? And thanks but it’s alright, you can keep the 2¥ you’re going to make from your ‘business.’ Koichi looked over at Josuke’s Switch to find what he was so angry about only to be greeted by an adorable looking lion with green hair and glasses. Why was he so angry?

 “Oh you laugh Koichi but I’ve already made over 200,000¥. These people are so desperate for these fake animals it’s insane. Also my mom’s away on some sort of business trip thing. I’m definitely gonna get my ass beat when she gets home but-Oh thank god it’s someone I can actually sell for once.” Josuke smiled softly as Koichi looked over once again to see a cat that looked like an orange. Adorable! Though he didn’t know what made it different from the lion that made Josuke so angry. “Anyways, you can have some of the animal crossing money for all the trouble you went through. Is 10,000¥ fair? I really don’t know what to do with all of this money to be honest.”

 That was the first time that Koichi realized that Josuke wasn’t joking or lying and that he’d actually made a huge profit by selling animal crossing villagers. And he’d be getting a cut from it too? Not just a few hundred yen either, 10,000.

 “10,000¥? That’s a lot, are you sure? I mean it really wasn’t that much trouble and I..”

 “Shut up and take the money Koichi. You can have it as long as I can still have the food you brought me.” Josuke finally looked up from his Switch to look into the bags of stuff Koichi had brought and happily gasped. “Woah is that cheesecake? You’re the best!”

 Suddenly the week Koichi spent worrying about his friend didn’t seem to matter as much.

 1:

 Nothing ever stays calm in Morioh.

 That’s something that Koichi had learned over the summer.

 So when he was having a relaxing and chill day, he really should have expected something to go wrong. That ‘something’ was a frantic call from Josuke some time in the evening. Of course that itself wouldn’t be an issue, but the subject matter certainly was. Excited to take a call from his best friend, Koichi set down the book he was reading and eagerly picked it up. “Hi Josuke, what’s u-”

 “HE FORGOT THE BABY!” Josuke yelled into the microphone, causing Koichi to panic a bit.

 “WHAT?” Koichi yelled back, holding the phone further away from his ear because of how loud Josuke was being.

 “HE FORGOT THE BABY!!”

 “Josuke you're going to need to explain,” Koichi said, hoping that it was a joke of some sort.

 “Okay so you know how my dad left yesterday?”

 “Ye-”

 “WELL HE FORGOT THE BABY!!” Josuke yelled once again, the distress he was feeling very evident in his voice. Koichi knew this must’ve been somewhat legitimate considering Josuke was a terrible actor.

 “Josuke I….. what baby? There’s a baby?” Koichi asked with just as much confusion in his voice as distress in Josuke’s.

 “Oh my god I never told you about the baby!! So like two months ago when my old man first got here we found an invisible baby and we named her Shizuka and he was supposed to take her with him but he didn’t and now I have a baby to take care of and I don’t know what to do and I-” Josuke rambled frantically, holding Shizuka in one arm and his phone in the other.

 “Okay calm down, I’m sure everything will be fine. Maybe just tell your mother that he left the baby and she can call him up? I’m sure he wouldn't mind buying another boat ticket.” Koichi replied calmly before realizing something. “Wait, she’s invisible? How did you find her then? Is she a Stand user?”

 “I mean, probably? All I know is that there is a crying baby in my arms and if it keeps crying it’s going to turn my arms invisible and I kind of need to see those. And my mother definitely won’t believe that my dad left an invisible baby here. Besides I’m pretty sure she’ll start breaking down if I even mention him.” Josuke sighed, gently rocking Shizuka back and forth. Or at least what he thought was gently.

 “Wait, she turns things around her invisible too? Oh god that can’t be good. Try and figure out why she’s crying and then take care of it. I can probably come over and help you if you want, I have a little bit of experience babysitting. But you should probably find a way to contact your dad so that we don’t have to deal with an invisible baby forever.” Koichi’s motherly instincts were becoming more and more apparent now that there was an actual baby involved, especially considering he didn’t trust Josuke to handle a baby all by himself.

 “I think she’s tired but she won’t go to sleep. I have her some NyQuil but I think that just made it wor-”

 “You gave the BABY NyQuil??? Okay I’m coming over to your house because I do NOT trust you with this baby.” Koichi was so incredibly worried for the well being of the poor baby at this point.

 “I mean yeah.. now that I think about it that was probably a bad idea. And please do, it’s been crying for like 20 minutes,” Josuke pleaded, causing Koichi to hang up the call and get ready to leave the house as soon as possible. It also didn’t help his worries that Josuke referred to the baby as ‘it.’ After somehow convincing his mother that he was going over to Josuke’s house to study, he practically ran out the door to make sure Josuke hadn’t murdered the baby already. He knocked on the door frantically and was created by a confused yet excited Tomoko who had no idea about the situation unfolding upstairs. Tomoko started to have a conversation with Koichi, which although he appreciated it, was the opposite of what he wanted to do right now. He tried to rush it as much as possible without seeming rude, and practically ran upstairs once it was over with. He opened the door a bit too quickly, causing Shizuka to stir a bit and start crying louder. That wasn’t his biggest concern though; his biggest concern was the fact that Josuke had given the baby to Crazy Diamond and Crazy Diamond was rocking the baby with way more force than necessary. “Oh thank god you’re here, it’s crying and I don’t know what to do.”

 “Just.. just give me the baby. Also you better be paying me for this,” Koichi mumbled as he took the baby out of Crazy Diamond’s arms. He tensed up for a second before remembering how he used to rock the babies he had to babysit. All of his attention was on carefully rocking Shizuka back and forth, and it seemed to calm her down a lot. Although the makeup on her face had heavily faded Koichi could still make out her expression, and she seemed to be a bit happy. She was still crying though, and Koichi could tell she needed something. “Have you fed her today? That might be why she’s crying,” Koichi asked, looking up at Josuke with a slight frown. This night was going to be fun.

 “I fed her a little bit earlier but then she vomited all over me and started screaming again. But that’s a good idea, I’ll go get some food for her.” Koichi was very worried about whatever Josuke was about to bring as food for Shizuka, but he didn’t feel like asking. After all he couldn’t be that stupid, right? Well he did try to give her NyQuil so I guess he could be that stupid. He continued gently rocking Shizuka, making sure to maintain a gentle yet steady rhythm. The smile on her face led to a smile on Koichi’s face, which was only helped when she gently grabbed onto Koichi’s sweater. He had no idea why he was so good with kids considering he only babysat a handful of times, all he knew is that he was thankful for it. As he heard the door open Koichi prepared for disappointment but was pleasantly surprised when Josuke brought up actual baby food, a few napkins, and a bottle full of a red liquid of some sort. “We don’t have milk but I read somewhere that you can give babies fruit juice as long as they’re over a month old. Hopefully it’s fruit juice anyway, it didn’t have a label on it. Oh and I brought some napkins in case she throws up again,” Josuke said as he sat down on the bed next to Koichi.

 Koichi was more than willing to take the small risk that he was feeding her blood to make sure that Shizuka had something to drink. Everything was going well… too well. But he tried not to think about that. “Oh wow, thank you so much! I was half expecting you to bring me like wine or something,” Koichi replied, wishing that he was joking. He took the bottle from Josuke’s hands and shifted the way he held Shizuka slightly so that he could feed her more easily. Koichi slowly handed her the bottle, which caused her eyes to light up and for her to immediately start drinking. Thinking he did something right, Koichi smiled and looked up at Josuke before hearing sounds of vomiting and seeing bits of red splattered all over his sweatshirt. Goddamnit. As he reached up to grab some of the napkins that Josuke had brought, Koichi realized that he was laughing way, way harder than he should’ve been. “Hey shut up, at least I’m actually taking care of      your     baby,” Koichi mumbled as he took the napkins and cleaned the spit up off of his hoodie. After that was taken care of he grabbed the container of baby food and opened it up, relieved to see that it had a small spoon on the side of it so he didn’t have to make Josuke run more errands for him. He opened up the container way more carefully then he needed to and grabbed a spoonful of the yellow mush. To Koichi’s relief Shizuka eagerly ate every spoonful she was given and didn’t throw it up this time. She got through the entire container of baby food relatively quickly and it made Koichi feel incredibly accomplished. She also wasn’t crying anymore and had a huge adorable smile stretched out across her face, so it was clear that her hunger was the reason she was upset. Shizuka once again clung to Koichi’s (now stained with red) sweatshirt and mumbled something incoherent. He figured this meant that she was tired so he glanced around Josuke’s room for a blanket, but what happened next was certainly not what he was expecting.

 “Mama!!” She said between small fits of giggles, her grip on Koichi tightening slightly. He gasped with both excitement and confusion as Josuke started going hysterical. “Mmaama!” She cooed once again, making as close to eye contact as someone invisible could make with Koichi.

 “W- I- has she ever spoken before this??” Koichi asked frantically as he realized that he was now the mother of an invisible baby that he met 15 minutes ago. Though thinking about it more he didn’t really mind it for the time being.

 “No she hasn’t! She’s never even called me that and I’ve had that thing for way longer. Bitch.” Josuke clearly looked angry about this and it made Koichi laugh a bit.

 “Well I didn’t give her NyQuil and actually fed her. Maybe if you take her for a bit she’ll warm up to you.” He attempted to pry Shizuka’s hands off of his sweatshirt which proved to be way more difficult than he thought. Once he did though, she seemed to go into Josuke’s arms with ease. Josuke’s eyes lit up as the baby was shifted into his hands, panicking a bit before remembering the rhythm that Koichi had kept while rocking her. He did that for quite some time until Shizuka seemed just as comfortable and happy as she was in her ‘mom’s’ arms. After a while, her eyes closed and she started to drift off to sleep. “M..ama..” she mumbled softly as she snuggled closer into Josuke’s arms. He tried his very best to hold back a laugh so he wouldn’t wake her up, but he couldn’t help it. Luckily Shizuka seemed to be a heavy sleeper and it didn’t bother her too much.

 “Ha, we’re both her moms! That’s gay,” Josuke said with far too much laughter following it. Koichi sighed once again, something he’d been accustomed to during his friendship with Josuke.

 “Yeah shut up, let’s find a place to keep while she sleeps.” Koichi’s eyes darted around Josuke’s room to find somewhere to keep her, eventually landing on a small basket in the corner. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing, but they didn’t have many other options. He put one of Josuke’s pillows into the basket along with a towel for a blanket and motioned for him to put Shizuka in it. He did, (actually being gentle for once) and she subconsciously snuggled up against the pillow. As they shared a relieved and happy glance with each other, they started to think about what else they should do considering it was only about 6pm.

 “Wanna play F-Mega? I just unlocked some secret tracks?”

 “Sure!”

 Being a lesbian mother to an invisible baby was certainly not the way Koichi expected the summer to end, but he should have known that nothing is expected in Morioh.

[likeshipsonthesea]

Klaus and Dave for the fourth sarcasm prompt

from this list 4. “Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.” i really do want to try to write something for tua, like an actual something but i want to be secure in the characterization. the fics i’ve read so far haven’t done it for me, so i wanna do this right, for all the characters, so please feel free to send in other prompts, from the list or not, with any of the characters from the show (preferably one of the 7)

thanks for sending in this prompt! i hope you like it. another tua fic i wrote can be found here

“I don’t know about this, Klaus,” Dave says, whispered, from behind Klaus’ right ear, and for a moment, he isn’t in the middle of some town he doesn’t know, decades before he was born, turning around a corner to watch for guards. Instead, he’s in the Academy, watching for Reginald, or Mom, dragging Ben behind him in pursuit of the sweets Mom keeps in a “secret” cabinet in the kitchen. Ben was always behind him, whatever he did, from the time they were kids until– well, until Klaus time traveled here, really.

Klaus swallows and glances back at Dave, grinning. “Don’t sweat it, sugar-lips,” Klaus says, just to watch Dave blush in the hazy light of moon. “Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”

Dave laughs, too loud and then muffled when he remembers they’re supposed to be quiet. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he says, when the laughter has been successfully corralled underneath his tongue. “Why would a non-English speaker and a deaf person be on an American MASH base?”

Klaus waves a hand. “Irrelevant. Just don’t get caught.” He turns back around to check if they’re clear and Dave huffs another laugh, this one caught in the short hairs on the back of Klaus’ neck. He inhales shakily. Stay focused, Hargreeves, he thinks, and steels himself before looking again.

“We’re clear,” Klaus says. “Let’s go.”

They run quietly up to the locked door of the colonel’s office. The corporal is off getting plastered at the officer’s bar with the rest of the platoon– thank Santa for their drunkard brothers in arms– which means Klaus and Dave can sneak into the colonel’s office and drink the primo booze there, have their own little party.

“How’re we gonna get in?” Dave whispers, glancing around quickly, panicked.

“Chill, babe, you’re with me.” Klaus grins and Dave pauses his worrying to shake his head back. Klaus pulls out his standard issue pocket knife. Dave sighs as Klaus begins to work the tip into the keyhole.

“How do you know how to do that?”

Klaus shrugs. “Diego had a book about it, I think. He left it in the bathroom once and I read it while I was in there.” He’d spent hours locked in the bathroom, reading away. Dad– Reginald had come looking for Klaus for training and he’d been so tired, that morning he’d ran into a ghost coming back from the park who had screamed and screamed and– Klaus shakes his head of it. The book is helpful. The memories are not.

Within a minute, the door’s unlocked, and they slip through quietly despite knowing there’s no one here to hear them. The booze is stashed behind another lock, but Klaus makes quicker work of that and turns to show Dave his prize, grin pointedly manic.

Dave shakes his head and leans in to press his lips against the corner of Klaus’ mouth, instinctual, like he couldn’t help it, like Klaus is something to be drawn to instead of run away from.

“Let’s toast,” Dave says as Klaus tugs out the cork. Klaus offers the bottle to him, as he’d never been any good at toasting and shit. Why wait for the high? That’s what he’d always thought. It wasn’t until he met Dave that he learned how good the trip there could be too. Dave takes the bottle with a small smile, lifting it slightly. “To the war ending soon,” he says, faith shining in his eyes.

Klaus never had much of a formal education, but he remembers some things from the lessons Mom gave them in between training. The Vietnam War was one of the longest, he remembers. Didn’t end until well into the 70s, he thinks. Still, he smiles when Dave drinks to his toast and kisses him quick after the bottle is lowered to taste the whiskey from him. It’s always better that way.

They drink sitting on the floor, backs against one of the make-shift walls of the office. Dave is a fun drunk, slowly getting more giggly with less reason. Their fingers brush, Dave giggles. Klaus whistles, Dave giggles. Klaus leans in to mouth at the join of Dave’s jaw, where he never gets all of the stubble when he shaves, and Dave giggles a sound low in his chest, a moan but almost unbearably happy.

Sometimes Klaus wonders what Dave would be like high. Not hard stuff, no needles or noses, but a simple joint, maybe. Dave would never, Klaus knows, a good Jewish boy, hardly smokes except to calm his nerves. But imagining it, a Dave slow and smiley, the worries of the war dropped far behind him. Klaus wouldn’t mind a Dave like that.

Not that he minds the Dave he has now. He doesn’t wonder too much about the drugs, not about Dave taking them and not about him wanting them. There’ve been pangs, of fucking course there have. When they lost Hamm, when Klaus had to wear his blood on his hands for a day until they found a stream deep enough. When he mentioned Ben, off-hand, and Dave asked about him and halfway through a story about playing The Floor is Lava by climbing around the living room, precious artifacts and all, Klaus realized that he would probably never see Ben again. Klaus wasn’t planning on going back, even if they got sent home. 

What does he have to go back to? Ben, yes, but Ben is dead, and the rest of Klaus’ siblings aren’t– He doesn’t want to say they’re not worth it. He knows they care about him, in the same instinct kind of way he feels for them, he knows that they’re family at the end of the day and even when they fuck up and hate each other and even want to kill each other, they’re still the same kids that used to sit out in the yard and tell each other what the clouds looked like.

Ben and Vanya always had the best ones. “It’s a train,” Ben would say, and suddenly the blob would make sense to Klaus. “It’s a banana,” Vanya would say and Klaus would ask where and Ben would already know. Vanya would point her small finger up at a mash of white cotton balls and say, “Look, it’s a bunny,” and Klaus could see the damn thing hopping.

Diego always went violent. “It’s a bunny with its head bashed in,” he would say, and snicker when the others would protest.

“It’s a bunny with a hat,” Allison would retort, sniffing, haughty, and then she’d tell them what brand it was, how expensive it was.

“Where’d a bunny get money for Gucci?” Klaus would snort and Allison would knock her foot into his ankle and he’d laugh.

“I think it has a tie, too,” Luther would say, quiet. He was always quiet around them when they weren’t on a mission. He only really felt comfortable speaking out when he was following Allison.

They would all murmur in agreement, even Diego, and then Five would say, “It’s a collection of water droplets light enough to float. It’s not anything but a cloud.”

At the time, Klaus would stick his tongue out at Five and tell him he was a buzzkill, but as he thinks about it now, tipsy, on a floor, thigh pressed against the only man he’d ever loved, Klaus wonders if it wasn’t condescension but defensiveness. Did Five ever see the bunny in the cloud? Could he? What were smarts when he couldn’t relate to anything but a book?

Klaus snorts to himself. No wonder the kid fell in love with a mannequin. Makes absolute fucking sense.

“What’re you giggling about?” Dave asks, slurring a little.

Klaus hums. “Clouds.”

“Hmm.” Dave leans into Klaus’ side, warm and heavy and smelling of shaving cream. They’d been out for weeks, using their knifes to make their stubble manageable, but they’d stumbled upon the MASH station earlier that morning and reveled in the luxury of mirrors and razors. Dave smells cleaner than Klaus ever remembers him being, and though Klaus typically hates change, it’s nice.

“What’re you gonna do after the war?” Klaus says, and he hiccups, realizing instantly that it’s the kind of sappy question optimists ask, and he really shouldn’t be entertaining notions of after when he knows��the war isn’t ending for a long while, but the words are off his lips and he can’t take them back.

“Go home,” Dave says, easy. “Teach music again, maybe. That was nice.” He turns his head into Klaus’ shoulder and looks up at him, blue eyes wide and innocent. Klaus marvels at how he still looks like that after all they’ve done, all they’ve had to do, to survive. He thinks that Dave could do it. Go back home, be himself again. He’s retained more of it than any of them have. Dave is so good, fuck, sometimes Klaus doesn’t know what to do with it.

“What about you?” Dave asks, quiet, and Klaus blinks back into awareness and hums, questioning. Dave clarifies, “What will you do after?”

Klaus thinks about the briefcase stashed under the cot they assigned him that morning. He doesn’t know how the thing works. In all likelihood, he could open it again only to end up in California during the Gold Rush or some shit. But if it could bring him back right where he left, bring him home to whatever measure of home that time was, would he do it?

Klaus never answers, because at that moment there’s movement outside and they hear someone saying, “Is the colonel’s office open?” and Klaus and Dave scramble out the window, breathless, stifling their giggles, and they run back to their shared tent as fast as they can.

They stop outside the front flap, panting and leaning their hands on their knees. They meet eyes and laugh, too loud but alive, and it feels so good to be running from something that doesn’t want to kill them, and Dave steps forward, hardly even looking around to make sure they’re alone, and cups the sides of Klaus’ face to pull him into a breathless, blood-thumping kiss.

This is why, Klaus thinks, as he curls his hand around Dave’s wrist to feel his pulse against his fingertips. This is why he won’t go back. Because as much as he loves his siblings, when it comes down to it, he doesn’t feel safe with them.

Dave doesn’t make the ghosts go away, and fuck knows there’s a lot of them in a war zone. But when the screaming gets too loud and Klaus panics like a shell-shocked soldier, Dave holds him close and whispers roughly into his hair, tells him it’s alright, they’re dead, Klaus is alive, they only have as much power as Klaus gives them.

Dave, for all his giggles and smiles and optimism, understands the trauma Klaus’ power brings him more than any of his siblings– even Ben– could understand. They will always be strangers who grew up together. They will always see different things in the clouds. Klaus needs someone who, when he says, “I need a fix,” hears, Help me.

Klaus kisses Dave back and doesn’t worry about whether or not Dave can taste the I love you on his lips. It’s fine. Klaus knows he does.

[greatshell-rider]

day twenty-four of quARTine: parent (prompt list)

Jerry missed peanut butter. He missed a lot of things from Earth, but after visiting dozens of planets and browsing through dozens more betwixt markets, he’d found suitable replacements for most stuff—a lot of it cooler, truthfully, with magics or technologies from thousands of ’scapes woven into every fabric and material.

But he had yet to find a foodstuff even sort of close to peanut butter. And he missed it.

Jerry shoved his hands in his hoodie pouch, the shopping bag dangling from his elbow as he wandered through the aisles of the store. A scrunched-up paper in his hand got steadily sweatier, each item on the list of requests from Lani and Cindy scratched off. The bag on his arm was full. He had no reason to stay at Stuff? Food? You Decide! any longer.

He paused by a shelf stocked with jars of “sliknut spread”. The containers were clear, revealing the creamy golden-brown spread inside, and each had a patterned bow tied around its lid. He reached for a pink-bowed one, but hesitated. Then shook his head and headed for the clerk’s counter. He paid with a handful of fingernail-sized crystals left over from the last ’scape.

The clerk eyed them skeptically. “Jastners?” they asked in Wide.

Jerry shrugged. “Think so.”

“Eh.” They dropped the crystals in the tin. “Thank you for shopping at Stuff? Food? You Decide! on Vaspin’s. Tell your friends about us, and have a nice day.”

“You too,” Jerry said, but the clerk was already shifting on their stool to greet the next customer. He grabbed his sword from the bin—leaving behind a small mace and bandolier of smoke bombs—and switched the grocery bag to his other arm as he left the shop. The enchanted wooden gecko engraven over the door yawped his departure, just as it had when he’d entered.

It was raining still, so Jerry put up his hood and drudged down the street, not caring that he splashed through muddy puddles or that rainwater dripped onto the unprotected groceries. Not many people were out, and he soon left the town, so it was quiet but for the sound of rain as he walked. The scenery was pretty enough—the road was bordered by a white picket fence, separating it from gentle rolling hills blanketed with turquoise coral-like plants—but Jerry felt his mood darkening the longer he walked. Earth’s rain didn’t react aggressively against his skin, leaving nasty green boils wherever a drop hit. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much this planet sucked.

You suck, he thought at it, kicking a pebble of the same turquoise from the fields down the road.

He could imagine Lani’s smug retort. Salty you don’t align to its magic, aren’t you? Which, of course, she could say, since she aligned perfectly and could send large objects flying with just her mind. Typical.

By the time he reached the two-storied cottage with roof tiles made of that weird turquoise-coral whatever, Jerry had mud streaked up to his knees and a minor headache—another of this ’scape’s fun little side effects it gave him; something to do with the particle composition in the atmosphere’s lower layers or some crap, according to Lani—and would’ve rathered to brawl a Nellio in one of their lava pits than deal with anyone. Unfortunately, Lani was sitting at the table when he came in, building a house out of cards with her newly-learned telekinesis. House was inaccurate, really. His sister started on a third tower of her castle as he kicked off his boots.

“Is it raining again?” she asked, too innocently, though the patter of raindrops could clearly be heard and seen on the windows.

Jerry said nothing, dropping the groceries on the tabletop.

A mistake. At his silence, Lani turned in her chair to face him, a smile spreading across her face as she set her elbow on the backrest and rested her cheek against her fist. “Did someone have a hard time in town today?” she lamented in a babyish tone. “No one told you how cool your sword is?”

Jerry stomped up the stairs.

“Oh no, now I’ve upset him too—Hey, don’t forget you’re also making dinner!”

He reached the door and slammed it shut behind him harder than necessary. The room was empty, and there he let out a tight, angry breath. That left him feeling drained, his headache even worse now, and he dropped wearily onto his cot of the three, setting his sword down beside him. Maybe he would just sleep the rest of the day away, try to forget, since he’d already failed at not remembering.

But as he bent to pull off his socks, he saw his small pile of belongings by the foot of the cot, and laying atop his change of clothes, a flower. It had yellow petals and a brown disk, very similar to an Earth sunflower. When he picked it up, however, the petals shifted to a lavender hue and the disk a sickly white. Jerry scowled, crushing the flower in his fist and throwing it aside. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fists clenching and unclenching as he breathed in and out, in and out. His headache pounded. Even after counting to fifty, then back down to zero, he nearly went down the stairs to confront Lani about that thing. It had to have been her. It had to. Who else? Who else, after all these years, after all they’d been through, who else—

A rap on the window. Jerry looked up. Cindy’s face stared back on the other side of the glass. Ze beckoned him over, then motioned for him to open the window. He did so, expecting zir to clamber in, but ze instead turned and walked down the slanted roof of the cowshed without a word, probably thinking he would follow.

“Cindy,” he called zir, “I don’t have shoes.” The rain didn’t react strangely to zir skin, so ze was free to go as barefoot as ze wanted, but Jerry less so.

“You’re already wet.” Ze crouched and, gripping the edge of the roof, swung zirself down to the ground before Jerry could reply. Ze stepped into the shed and out of view.

Jerry wavered, looking over his shoulder at the door leading downstairs. A part of him wanted to stay stubbornly inside the room, to curl up on his cot and refuse to move or speak until Lani came up and apologized. . . . Well, she would never do that, except to mock him. But he could make her make her own dinner. It would serve her right. Today of all days . . .

But Jerry couldn’t stay in this room for a second longer. Not upstairs. With his socks still on, he balled his fists in the hoodie’s long sleeves and hopped through the window. It didn’t matter if his clothes got soaked and got his skin damp. For some reason, only falling raindrops caused the boils. So, though his socks got unpleasantly soggy, Jerry was able to carefully slide down the tiles to the edge of the roof and copy Cindy’s move, swinging himself down. He padded into the cowshed, which was really just a second, shorter roof protruding from the back of the cottage propped up on stilts. Currently it only sheltered a single scrawny goat, the only animal they’d found for sell in town. In theory she gave milk, but so far had only eaten absurd amounts of hay that beguiled her skinny frame. Right now, she was nibbling on grain cupped in Cindy’s palm, and gave Jerry a distrustful stare with a single dark eye as he walked in.

He ignored her, putting his back to a post and sliding down until he was sitting. Though the roof blocked the rain, he kept his hood up.

For a while, Cindy said nothing. When the goat finished off the grain, ze grabbed a brush and sat cross-legged. The goat settled right down and laid her head in zir lap, eyes drifting half-shut as Cindy moved the brush down her back in long, steady strokes. Jerry rested his chin on his drawn-up knees, watching the strangely hypnotic scene, listening to the rain beat against the turquoise-tile roof. He sniffled quietly and crossed his arms over his knees, burying his nose into the sleeves of his hoodie. The specific garment was surprisingly common across the ’scapes, so Jerry had frequent access to them, but he had yet to find one exactly like Earth’s. Something about the fabric, the dye or material or design, just wasn’t right. He ran his thumb idly down a seam. Maybe it was just the scent. Nothing like mass-produced Walmart brands, right?

Cindy hummed, and Jerry realized he’d spoken aloud.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Just . . . Just feeling nostalgic I guess.” But that wasn’t right. This mix of sadness and anger, of guilt, of despair, of pain, it wasn’t something as whimsical as nostalgia. Jerry didn’t know if it could be defined with one word.

He fidgeted, picking at a ball of fuzz on the sleeve. “It’s just.” He huffed. Tried again. “Shopping today, surrounded by stuff, by foods that are familiar, but not the same, I just—” He cut himself off. There was a long pause. Jerry buried his face completely into his sleeves, hands sliding up underneath his hood to grip his hair.

“I miss it,” he said, voice muffled. “I miss it so bad, Cindy.”

He thought he was too angry for tears. But there they were, burning at his eyes. At least his hoodie was already wet, right? No one could tell. No one knew.

“It’s your home,” Cindy said.

“It is,” Jerry said angrily, swiping his arm across his face then scrubbing his knuckles at his eyes. “It’s not perfect, of course it isn’t. Yes there’s loads of planets and ’scapes without corrupt governments or decade-long wars or, or, or climate change, but it’s still mine! It’s had everything I’ve ever wanted.” He sighed, because that wasn’t true either. That’s why he and Lani had started the whole thing, wasn’t it? They’d wanted more. And in the process, they’d lost everything.

Jerry dropped his head into his hands. He pressed his fingers hard against his closed eyes, though it made his head hurt more. “Do you know what day it is?” he asked Cindy, his voice croaky.

In zir silence, he imagined zir shaking zir head.

“My mom’s birthday.” He swallowed, his mouth and throat dry. “And the anniversary.”

That made him laugh, a harsh, bitter bark. “Anniversary,” he sneered. “Like it’s something to celebrate.” His hands dropped to dangle over his knees, and he stared sightlessly at the straw-strayed dirt. “Maybe for the slavers.”

He swallowed again, knowing he had to say it and hating himself for it. “It’s my fault, you know,” he said. It came out in a hoarse whisper. He tried to clear his throat, but it didn’t do any good. “My fault. Partly, sure. Lani and I both did it. But it is. My—”

He hadn’t noticed Cindy moving until ze was suddenly next to him, extending an arm across his shoulders. Ze said nothing, but pulled him close in a hug. At first Jerry resisted, going stiff in zir embrace, and Cindy started to loosen zir grip and pull away. That shot a spike of panic through Jerry’s heart and he slumped, burying his face into zir shoulder. He started crying again, quietly, as he’d learned to do in the trench, and Cindy held his shaking body tight.

“I miss her,” he sobbed, “and it’s my fault.”

He thought ze would say something, some trite phrase that was supposed to be comforting, supposed to resemble her, but ze didn’t. Ze rested zir chin atop his head and began to sing. A soft, lilting melody, haunting in the rainshower’s murmur. Jerry had heard the song before. Once, Cindy had told him it was the lullaby her parents had sung together when ze was a toddler, to help zir fall asleep. It was the same song they’d whispered into zir ear before sending zir away.

The rain continued to drizzle.

[rkdaehwi]

AUDITION PART III : INTERVIEW

Seoul Arts High School June 13, 2019 Outfit

“ If you know me based on who I was a year ago, you don’t know me at all ”

With the completion of his performance, Eric could feel the heat starting to get to him. With the time progressing the sun was also getting higher and higher in the sky, and with it came the heat of summer. Right about now the teen was starting to regret not having any breakfast as it made focusing hard, but it was for a greater good. At least that was what he had to convince himself of to not lose his motivation due to hunger. He was a growing boy and food was a very important thing during such occasions, that was what all the professionals said, but to Eric minding his body was more important than listening to the professionals.

As he got another chance to sit down while his makeup was getting done, he found yet another thing to battle other than the hunger and that was the yawns that kept pushing forward. His make up artist kept scolding him for simply letting it out a couple of times before Eric instead had to take to pulling faces to suppress them. It wasn't his fault he was tired -- it was theirs for holding this whole thing so early in the morning.

Soon enough it was done and looking at his own face in the mirror it was satisfaction that filled the young teen. These guys really knew how to handle stuff like this better than he himself did, obviously as it was their job and not his. But he supposed that if becoming an idol failed he could always just try to have a career inside makeup. Or maybe he should just keep on pursuing modelling. He guessed he had better options within that considering his new contract with a teenage clothes brand.

Following suit Eric was led into an interview room -- if nothing else at least the auditioning process was consistent from last year, and that mean he already had a pretty good guess at how everything was going to go down from here on. In that aspect he supposed it was pretty nice to have an advantage over some of his peers who hadn't joined before and didn't know the workings of the show. But it also meant that there was probably more expectations on him to do better than last time so there was also the pressure from that. Instead of dwelling too much on it however, Eric took his spot in the chair and faced the camera with a bright smile and a nod in greeting.

First of all, please introduce yourself.

So far exactly as it had been last year he was pretty sure. Placing his palms on the chair in between his legs, Eric started rocking back and forth a bit. "My name is Sohn Youngjae but I usually go by Eric. That's what all my friends call me and I want to change my name too." Not that it was going to make a change in how they addressed him, he very much doubted that, but he also believed that it was better to just get it out so they knew what was up if he accidentally called himself by a different name. It was shortly after the MGAs last year that he started using his English name more than his Korean. "I'm currently 17 years old and a freshman in high school!"

We saw you last year as well. What's your reasoning for coming back again?

As expected they would ask him something like this. It wasn't like he had some kind of regret or wanted revenge or any other story like that -- Eric understood why he got eliminated at the time more or less, and honestly he had too much on his plate with what was going on with his brother at the time to also be able to focus on being in a survival program. But hopefully there would be no uncomfortable surprises this time. "Last year my brother was really sick and I feel like I couldn't get to show much of who I really was because I was worried about him-- ah, not that it's Dowoonie hyung's fault or anything! I could have just focused more. But I'm here to show everything I didn't get to show last year. You're all going to see a new and improved me!"

So you think you've improved since last year? In which ways?

Without missing a beat, Eric answered completely honestly: "I've gotten taller!" Realising straight afterwards that that was a stupid answer he laughed a bit at himself. "Well, obviously that," he said, "but I haven't just been slacking in the past year. I've been practicing a lot and honing my skills." With a self assured nod, he let his index finger and thumb rest upon his chin and smirked. "Beside that you can say I've gone through some self reflection, so I'm totally ready to make up for my lacking last time!"

Why do you want to be an idol?

For the longest of time Eric would have answered such a question with 'because my brother wants to be one'. Maybe one could say that he was just a young innocent child trying to copy his older brother and looking up to him, but Eric's reasoning had been very different. "Until recently I thought I wanted to do it just in case my older brother wouldn't be able to. But I guess if you dream someone else's dream in the end it becomes your own, right? I can't deny that I love standing on stage. I love performing. Stars are the ones who shine the brightest so wouldn't it be simple and make sense to want to be one?"

Perhaps. If you were to get signed by a company which would you want the most?

"Royal!" he stated the moment the interviewer had asked the question and at the follow up 'why?' he didn't need much time to think either. "LUXE is from Royal! They're my favourite group! I want to meet them one day and tell Ella noona how much of an inspiration she is to me!" It was a very typical teenager's dream but Eric was dead serious in his words. "Of course I know they're busy and everything, so I'm not very likely to actually meet them so it might sound like a silly reason to want to get signed there, but it's all I want. But if you want another reason... I guess because my brother is signed there? It could be kind of fun to train together with him. I'm not gonna lose!"

Well, good luck with that. That's all for now.

"Thank you!"

[brandsmagazinepakistan-blog]

Brands Magazine

http://monthlybrands.com.pk/heres-computer-secretly-work-international-criminals/

Here’s how your computer is secretly doing work for international criminals

Your computer or router looks innocent enough. But it could be taking part in international crime without your knowledge, reported The Independent.

That’s if it is being used in a botnet, or a collection of computers that have had malicious software installed on them that allows someone to direct them as a group from afar. Security experts say that botnets are one of the many dangers that are posed to computers and their owners – and the opportunities to use them are growing all the time.

The problem of botnets was highlighted this week when multiple law enforcement agencies announced they had shut down the Andromeda botnet. That constellation of computers, spread all around the world, were being collectively controlled and put to work doing criminal tasks for their masters.

  The shutdown brings an end to one of the most prevalent, damaging botnets. But it highlights the sinister behaviour of such tools – dangerous malware that can find its way into computers and other devices and control them for use in various unethical and illegal ways.

Perhaps the most disturbing thing about botnets is there’s no way to know that the computer on your desk or the router sitting innocently as you watch TV could be taking part in criminal behaviour on behalf of international mobs. Today’s computers are so powerful, and internet connections so fast, that there’s plenty of space to go around – even if something is taking up bandwidth, you won’t necessarily see things slow down.

Nowadays such behaviour isn’t limited to computers. Indeed, one of the growing aspects of botnets is devices that aren’t computers – but appliances, home cameras, and other internet-connected bits of kit that might be sitting around the house. People aren’t necessarily even aware that these are connected to the internet, let alone that they need to be updated and kept secure like a computer – what’s more, with many cheap devices there might not actually be an obvious way to do so.

Last year, for instance, the world saw the major “Mirai” botnet attack which wiped out internet across parts of the world. And that was largely carried out by internet of things devices – internet-connected gadgets with lacking security that were tied together and used to point at a specific part of the web’s infrastructure. Still, despite that, some accounts suggest that botnets aren’t actually increasing. There are some problems slowing the use of the tools, which is leading some cyber criminals to head elsewhere.

Cyber security firm Malwarebytes found 7,759 botnet detections from 2016 to November 2017, according to data provided exclusively to The Independent. That’s actually a reduction from last year, with only 2,456 this year compared to 5,303 detections in 2016. It’s possible that we’re currently in a lull – with computers sufficiently advanced to not allow people in, and smart devices not yet widespread enough to be used meaningfully.

As the number and availability of botnets drops, there is getting to be something nostalgic about them – they require a level of technical complexity and ingenuity that isn’t present in other scams online.

“Botnets really have been around as long as we’ve done things purposefully online,” says David Emm, principal security researcher at Kaspersky Lab. “If we’re banking online, shopping online, these are all activities people can subvert.”

As such, there’s something strangely honest about such botnets, since they’ve taken on a sort of artistry and craft that’s impressive in a way that just inserting a dodgy ad into a web page isn’t.

“There is a bit of a connoisseur aspect to it now,” says Chris Boyd, malware analyst at Malwarebytes, meaning that it can be a good way of gathering a reputation online. “To be able to actually set up a botnet and do something clever with it, make money off it, is quite a skill.

“We tend to see a lot of very, very clever, grand schemes and really elegant solutions,” he says, pointing to one example where people were able to take use a Twitter account to send directions to an army of computers. “But in terms of actually moneymaking it’s still meat and potatoes.”

If you want to actually turn your botnet into a cash-generating machine, then you have to put it to some use: having people pay to knock website offline, download malware, or use it to break into online bank accounts. That takes a lot of work and is easily stopped, making it a difficult route to go down when there are much easier money-making crimes available on the internet.

“So the really clever, sophisticated ones and leftfield ones are great experiments for scammers to dabble in,” he says, but most people would opt to go for something a little more easy to get into and back out of, with a bigger payoff. The other big problem is that it’s simply too easy to be found out if you’re running such a scheme. Botnets, by design, have to regularly check in with their owners – and it can be relatively easy to follow that message all the way down and find the person running it at the other end. That also makes growth dangerous – the larger the botnet, the bigger the risk, because you’re leaving more and more digital footprints across more of the internet.

Some botnet operators will even take special measures to try and stop that happening. “We do see a lot of communication from the creators of these sorts of infrastructure where they’re pushing heavy terms of use,” says Jens Monrad, a senior analyst at FireEye. “So that could be saying you’re not allowed to infect specific victims or countries because that will put pressure on the creators. Typically we see that there is a lot of things from a cyber criminal perspective that you have to accept to use the infrastructure.”

That doesn’t mean that taking down the people running the botnets means taking down the infrastructure. Arrests can work as a deterrent, but not necessarily a way of stopping the botnet from running. Users still remain infected, and the infrastructure can still remain in place.

Often, for instance, law enforcement can trap and then shut down botnets through a process known as sinkholing. That involves grabbing the domains that are registered with the infections, and then allowing the data to drop into it, as well as tracing where it’s coming from.

But often after the operations are over, those domains are then able to lapse. Someone else can then pick them back up and get to work using the botnet, despite the fact that person who once ran it might now be in prison.

“I don’t want to downplay the actual success in taking down this infrastructure, but it’s worth highlighting that we do see old malware families – they suddenly re-emerge because either the operator was successful in getting access to the infrastructure, or the takdown didn’t cover everything.”

As such, your computer might be free from being part of the botnet – and then get wakened back up and added back again. It’s possible that an update to a computer might kill off an old, hibernating piece of malware, but it’s also possible that it won’t.

It’s unlikely that anyone would be held responsible for the behaviour of their remotely controlled computer, though it’s very possible that you might be told to ensure that people can’t get in in the future. It’s so hard to know it was happening that it’s also difficult to know how you could be blamed for not spotting it.

However, that doesn’t quite stop the sinister undertones of knowing that you might have been involved in such behaviour. Kaspersky’s David Emm likens it to knowing that a gap behind your shed is being used for burglars to store their tools – even if you might not be using that shed, or see the burglars. “It’s not necessarily impacting me, but I’m not very comfortable with being used in that way,” he says.

That doesn’t mean that there aren’t things you should do – or that you will be let off just because you didn’t know you were involved. Even if you’re not being put in the frame for a crime, it doesn’t mean you’ve not got a duty not to stop it. The ways to do that are various – from the obvious to the slightly more complicated. First off is all the general internet security advice – update your systems and devices whenever you need to, and avoid obvious things like revealing your passwords or clicking on dodgy links.

“The less obvious stuff is, say, as soon as you install a device in a home – whether that be CCTV or a baby monitor or children’s toys – think does it need to be connected?” says Emm. “And if I don’t, switch that off.

“Does it come with a password? Great, let me change that. And the other thing is to check with the manufacturer if it can be updated – it’s the same sort of advice as with any computer, but it’s just less obvious to ask that question.”