#it's still a little eerie ngl

[desos-records]

instead of going door-to-door, the mormons in my area have a habit of roaming the streets and asking anyone they pass 'would you like to go to church on sunday.' which is just. a wild recruitment tactic. it's completely unspecific. it's making, like, twelve different assumptions at once. it's the exact wrong time and place to find anyone willing to listen to you. I keep wanting to carry around a rosary so I can pull it out like 'nah, I'm covered actually, thanks,' just to see what would happen

[sunsburns]

not you too

pairing: jason todd x ex vigilante!reader

summary: for the first time in a long time, you're hurting, deeply. an old wound that's reopened, the knife that was once there finding its place back between your ribs. jason todd comes to you in the middle of the night, bleeding all over your floor, rubbing salt to an old wound.

word count: 3.5k+

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, angst, the good old cleaning the other's wounds after a rough patrol but this one has a little bit of plot and spice to it ngl.

based off of this request

You always try to keep your nights as simple as possible. Working under Commissioner Jim Gordon had its perks, but peace of mind wasn’t one of them. Between juggling case files, analyzing crime scenes, and trying to stay ahead of Gotham’s ever-growing list of threats, your days were more than chaotic.

Gordon, a mentor as much as a boss, trusted you with sensitive information that only a few had access to—and you took that responsibility seriously. What he didn’t know was how deep your connection to Gotham’s vigilantes truly ran.

While Gordon believed in the power of the law, you knew sometimes it wasn’t enough. That’s where Batman came in. Your dual role—an officer of the GCPD by day, and a secret informant for Batman by night—had become second nature. You fed him intel and helped him stay ahead of Gotham’s worst, all while maintaining the facade of loyalty to the department.

You weren't proud about it, but he gave you enough hush money that you don't question it whenever he appears by the office as you leave your later shifts.

Friday nights were your escape. After a week of handling reports, dissecting evidence, and sidestepping questions from Gordon about your mysterious late-night absences, you let yourself disconnect. You skipped the gym after work, came home early, and cooked yourself a proper dinner. By the time the sun set, you were showered, dressed in your comfiest pyjamas, and settled on the couch with a movie.

Tonight was no different. You’d just closed a case with Gordon’s team, a robbery ring, criminals now behind bars, but Gotham never truly rested. Tomorrow would bring another wave of crime, another set of challenges. Still, for now, you had this moment of peace.

The movie droned on in the background as you finished dinner, exhaustion from the week creeping in. Your eyes fluttered shut halfway through, the comfort of your quiet apartment lulling you to sleep. By the time the credits rolled, you were completely out, wrapped in the safety of your little corner of the world.

That is until a faint creak from your window broke the silence.

You stirred groggily, blinking at the clock. It was well past midnight. Gotham was still alive outside—sirens in the distance, the occasional rumble of a motorcycle passing by—but your apartment had fallen into stillness. You stretched, ready to drag yourself to bed, but something wasn’t right.

The creak came again. Your blood ran cold.

Someone was in your apartment.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes darted around the dimly lit room. The faint sound of creaking had stopped, leaving an eerie silence behind, but there—a shadow moved. Your heart pounded, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you reached blindly for something, anything to defend yourself. The remote was the closest thing at hand. You gripped it tightly, feeling foolish but unwilling to let go, and scrambled to stand.

In the faint glow from the streetlight filtering through the curtains, you finally saw him—a large figure by the balcony door, hunched over, struggling to quietly close the glass behind him. He moved slowly, cautiously, as if he didn’t want to be noticed. But you had already seen enough.

The silhouette was unmistakable.

“Jason.”

His shoulders stiffened at the sound of his name, freezing in place for a second before turning to face you. Even in the darkness, you could feel the weight of his gaze through the red-tinted visor of his helmet, his expression unreadable beneath it.

You lowered the remote slowly, heart still racing, but now for a different reason. “You can’t—you can’t just break in like this,” you stammered, your voice tinged with frustration and worry. You’d seen him do this too many times, yet it never got easier.

He let out a gruff, annoyed sound beneath the helmet, shoulders sagging as he took a step closer. “Not like you were gonna answer the door.” His voice was rough, and the bitterness in his tone was impossible to miss.

Your irritation flared, but then you noticed something—a slight tremor in the way he moved. His steps were sluggish, almost hesitant, and he favoured his right side, trying to mask it.

He wasn’t just annoyed.

He was hurt.

As he stepped out of the shadow, the dim lamp light caught the outline of his armour. That’s when you noticed it—dark stains creeping across the front of his suit, and the way his hand pressed against his side, the faint sound of a pained breath slipping past his otherwise guarded posture.

“You’re bleeding,” you muttered, the frustration quickly giving way to concern. He didn’t respond, his gaze avoiding yours as he leaned back against the wall, clearly uncomfortable with being here. Jason never wanted anyone to see him like this—least of all you.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” he grumbled, the words tinged with a mix of guilt and exasperation. “Go to bed. I’ll be out in a minute. Just needed some stuff. Still got that first aid kit?”

You shook your head, taking a cautious step closer, your heart sinking at the sight of him in pain. “Jason, you can’t just—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off sharply, pushing himself off the wall, wincing as the movement aggravated his wound. His stance was defensive like he was already preparing to run before you could offer to help.

But the moment his knees buckled slightly, the tough exterior he was trying to maintain cracked. You could see it in the way his breath hitched, the way he clutched at his side like he was barely holding it together.

He wasn’t here because he wanted to be. He was here because he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Jason pulled the mask off his head, his breath coming in sharp gasps as if the helmet had been suffocating him. He tossed it carelessly onto your dining table before glancing at you, his expression tight. “You got it or not?”

His voice startled you into action. “Uh—yeah, I’ve got it.” You scrambled down the hall toward the bathroom, hands shaking as you rifled through the drawers for the first aid kit. His footsteps echoed faintly in your living room, boots heavy against the hardwood. Now that he’d been caught, his presence filled the space in a way that made it impossible to ignore.

You tried to steady your breathing, but it was no use. No matter how many times you’d imagined running into Jason again, it was never like this. In your daydreams, you hoped you’d bump into him on the street, or maybe during work.

There were even moments where you’d foolishly fantasized about seeing him at Wayne Manor, handing over files to Bruce as a favour, only to lock eyes with Jason from across the room. But this? Jason bleeding out on your floor, breaking into your apartment in the middle of the night? This wasn’t what you wanted.

When you returned to the living room, he had already shed his jacket, revealing a deep gash along his side. It was messy, and the blood soaked into the fabric of his suit, leaving dark stains that made your stomach drop.

He’d settled into something uncomfortably familiar—boots kicked off by the door, sitting against the wall like old times, but this time he kept his distance, his body tense.

He didn’t want to be here.

You hesitated as you approached, the kit in your hand. “Jason, let me—”

“I’ve got it.” His voice was sharp, cutting you off as he took the first aid kit from your hands without so much as a glance. His glare kept you at arm’s length, and it hurt. The way he shut you out, even when he was barely holding himself together.

He didn’t trust anyone—not entirely.

Not after everything.

Still, seeing him like this made something twist in your chest. Bleeding and worn down, but too stubborn to ask for help. There was a heaviness in the air, lingering in the silence that stretched between you both. It wasn’t just about tonight—it was everything that had been left unresolved before, all the words that had gone unsaid the last time you’d seen each other. But now, with Jason sitting right in front of you, neither of you dared to speak.

You crouched a few feet away, sitting on the floor across from him, watching as he tried to clean the wound himself. His hand shook slightly, though he tried to hide it, his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth against the pain. It was bad—worse than he was letting on.

“Jason, stop,” you finally said, your voice softer than you intended. “You’re gonna make it worse.”

“I don’t need your help,” he bit out, refusing to meet your eyes. “I’ve done this a thousand times.”

He huffed, annoyed, but when he tried to move again, his breath hitched—pain breaking through the cracks of his tough exterior. His hand slipped, and the antiseptic bottle nearly fell from his grip. You didn’t wait for his permission this time. You slid over, taking the kit from his hand.

“Just let me do it,” you murmured, your voice firmer now.

Jason didn’t argue this time, though his jaw was still set in that stubborn way you knew all too well. You could feel the heat branching off him as you gently touched his arm to move it out of the way and clean the wound. His whole body stiffened at the contact like he wasn’t used to being taken care of—or maybe he just didn’t want it.

His eyes shifted to the far wall, jaw clenched even tighter, refusing to meet your gaze, but you caught the way his breath hitched ever so slightly when your hands moved over his skin.

He wasn’t saying anything, but his body told you enough. Every time your fingers brushed a sensitive spot or when the antiseptic stung, his lips pressed into a thinner line. He didn’t flinch exactly, but his posture—rigid, unmoving—betrayed how uncomfortable he was.

You weren’t sure what was harder for him: the wound or the fact that he was letting you help. His pride had always been a barrier, a wall he rarely let anyone get through. Yet here he was, in your apartment, wounded and unwilling to admit just how much he needed you.

As Jason shifted slightly, wincing, you took the moment to observe him. It had been a while since you last saw him, and for a second, you searched for something—anything—that might’ve changed. But he was still Jason. Still, the same stubborn man who couldn’t stay out of trouble. Even that white strand of hair was right where it had always been. He looked older somehow, but not in the way time ages people. It was something deeper, worn into him from the life he led.

And then his eyes flicked up, catching you watching him. For a brief moment, neither of you moved. His gaze softened, just barely, before the guarded look returned as quickly as it had slipped away.

He shifted again, his body tense, and glanced around your apartment—anything to avoid looking directly at you. His gaze lingered on your desk, the files from your latest case scattered across it, and his expression darkened. You could see it in his eyes—a mix of suspicion and something else.

“You’ve been busy,” he muttered, his tone gruff, though the edge in his voice told you there was more to it than a simple observation.

You didn’t look up, keeping your hands steady as you applied pressure to the wound. “You know how it is.”

Jason’s jaw twitched. “Yeah,” he said, his tone sharp. “I know how it is.”

It was a jab, even if it was subtle. You could feel the accusation hanging between the lines of his words. He wasn't just talking about your busy schedule—he was digging at the gap between you two, at all the things neither of you had addressed. Your loyalty to Batman. Your work with Gordon.

A little fucking traitor to everything Jason worked for.

You sighed, pressing a little harder than necessary to make a point. “You’re not here for that, Jason.”

He winced, and you almost felt bad. Almost. But the look in his eyes—calculated, like he was searching for the truth behind every move you made—made your chest tighten. His silence was louder than anything he could’ve said.

“You’re not going to ask why I’m here?” His voice was softer now, but there was a bitterness to it. He knew you weren’t stupid. He wasn’t here by choice, and you both knew it. You wanted to ask, but what was the point? Jason never came to you for help, never came to anyone unless he had no other option.

“I figured you’d tell me when you’re ready,” you replied quietly, not daring to meet his eyes. His presence in your home felt heavier than the blood on your hands.

He scoffed, shifting to take the bandage from your hand. “Don’t hold your breath.”

Your hand stilled for a moment, hovering just above his skin. You could feel the heat radiating from him, a reminder of just how close you were to crossing a line neither of you dared to acknowledge. He was still the same Jason, still stubborn as hell, but the space between you felt like it had grown into a chasm. One you weren't sure either of you could cross without everything falling apart.

“Why are you really here, Jason?” you asked, giving in. He was a wanted man, or at least Red Hood was. If you were up to it, you could have him arrested within seconds.

His eyes snapped up, the guarded expression faltering for a moment before his usual defiance returned. “It’s not like I had a lot of options,” he admitted, though the words felt forced like he was offering you an excuse instead of the truth.

“I thought you always had a plan,” you said, words sharper than you intended. “Or is that just another thing you’ve changed your mind about?”

He flinched, and for a second, you regretted saying it. But the hurt between you two had been simmering for too long. His loyalty was always a wild card, and yours? Well, Jason had never forgiven you for staying close to the people he had walked away from.

Jason’s lips twitched, not quite a smirk, but close. “The Bat keeping you on a tight leash?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or is it Gordon now?”

You stiffened, the accusation hitting home more than you liked. “It’s not like that,” you muttered, knowing it sounded weak but unwilling to offer more. It was always the same with Jason—he pushed, prodded, and pulled at the places you tried to protect.

“Yeah, right. Because we both know where your loyalties lie,” Jason snapped, his tone harsher now. His eyes bore into you like he was searching for something—anything—that would confirm his suspicions. That you’d chosen Batman over him. That you were still working with the people who had crossed him.

“I didn’t betray you,” you said quietly, though even as you said it, the words felt hollow. You didn’t know if you believed them anymore.

Jason let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. There was too much between you, too many things left unsaid, and no amount of stitching his wounds would ever fix that. He was right, in a way. You hadn’t chosen him—not when it counted.

Not when he needed you. And for what? For comfort? A little bit of safety? An alliance with Batman? A raise at work? The questions ran through your mind like jagged edges. It wasn’t that simple, but neither of you had ever really said the things that needed to be said back then, too busy trying to fix things that did not need fixing.

His breathing had become more laboured as you worked, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. The wound you were treating was deep, and too close to critical areas for comfort.

Jason’s hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling into fists as if he was fighting the pain, refusing to show just how much it hurt. But you could see it in the way his body trembled under your touch—he was reaching his limit.

“Let me finish,” you said, your tone softer, more insistent. "Stop fighting me."

For once, he didn’t argue. His jaw unclenched, his shoulders slackened slightly, and his eyes—usually so guarded—softened just enough to show how exhausted he really was. Physically, emotionally, all of it. He wasn’t invincible, and tonight, that truth was catching up with him faster than he could hide.

You moved closer, hands brushing against his skin as you worked quickly, trying to keep your focus. His skin was warm, slick with sweat and blood, and the faintest tremor ran through his frame as your fingers traced the edge of the wound. But the closeness was unnerving—both of you acutely aware of each other in a way that made the room feel smaller.

You caught his eyes as you reached for more gauze, and for a split second, neither of you looked away. His gaze burned into you, full of unspoken questions, of things he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say. And for the first time, you wondered if you weren’t the only one who had felt betrayed.

But you’d both been wrong. You could see it now, in the way his eyes darkened with unsaid accusations, in the way your heart ached with unresolved regret. You thought you were protecting him by walking away—by choosing the safer path, Batman’s path. And Jason, with all his reckless defiance, had been too far gone in his need for vengeance to understand why you couldn’t follow him down that road.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, barely loud enough for you to hear. “I can’t trust anyone anymore.”

Your fingers stilled, hovering just above his chest. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air between you.

"I never asked you to trust me," you whispered, the words hanging precariously on the line between honesty and regret.

But the truth was, you wanted him to. More than anything.

Jason’s lips tightened into a thin line, and for a moment, you thought he might push you away. His muscles tensed beneath your touch as if bracing himself for another fight. His hand twitched, lifting halfway like he was going to shove you back, but he stopped.

The strain was written all over his face now, and you could see his breathing growing more ragged. His eyes were slipping out of focus, and you noticed the faint green glow flickering at the edges of his irises—Lazarus. It was always there, a reminder of how far he’d gone, how close to the edge he still was.

“Jason…” you said quietly, watching the pain ripple through him. He was losing consciousness, slipping into the darkness despite his stubborn refusal to admit it. His hand finally dropped, brushing against your arm before it hit the floor, the strength leaving him in waves.

“Just… get it over with,” he rasped, his voice cracking.

You pressed the final bandage into place, your hands gentle now, more careful. For a moment, you let your fingers linger, brushing against the rough skin of his shoulder as you finished. His breathing was shallow, but steady, his eyes fluttering shut. The tension drained from his body as the exhaustion finally won, leaving him vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen in a while.

It reminded you of when he used to sleep beside you. Jason had always been restless, even in sleep, twisting in the sheets, his mind never fully at ease. But there had been nights when he would finally relax, his hand instinctively reaching for yours, his head resting against your chest like he found his peace there, with you. You remembered how you’d stroke that same shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin as you whispered for him to rest, that you were there, watching over him.

And yet, here you were, caring for him again.

He stirred slightly, a soft grunt escaping his lips as he adjusted, trying to find a position that eased the pain. His face softened with the kind of weariness that came from more than just the physical strain. You watched his chest rise and fall, the quiet sound of his breath mingling with the hum of the city outside.

Jason’s hand twitched again, brushing against your knee, his fingers grazing your skin with a familiar yet distant touch. It made your heartache.

There was a time when you would’ve done anything to keep him safe, to protect him from the world—and from himself. But now, all you could do was sit there, hands still resting against his skin, wondering if either of you could ever come back from this.

[sluttysnowangel666]

sweet like candy - choi su bong / thanos

pairings : thanos/ su bong x fem reader part 2

summary/request : despite only a few insignificant interactions with thanos, he grows jealous when he sees you talking to an ex marine, dae ho.

warnings: jealous thanos, use of drugs, swearing, violence, ooc thanos bc he’s kinda nice most of the time except for when he’s jealous, lowkey sub thanos idk how it happened but bros a good boy😭, oral(f receiving), hand job, sex(p in v)

ngl this is not my best work unfortunately:( it just feels like i rushed too much at certain parts but i just didn’t want it to be too repetitive to other stories with too much detail when we all know how the games work. send me some requests, i wanna do au or write for thanos where the reader and him are outside of the games

not responsible for the content you consume, use discretion when reading past the border. 18+

“Señorita, excuse me.”

You turn, an eyebrow already raised at the strange pet name you’d just been called. It’s a tall, young ish man. You take in his appearance; his hair is a bright shade of purple, slender fingers painted like infinity stones, marked with dark tattoos, chunky rings, and a cross necklace.

You don’t respond, instead continuing to walk in the eerie room painted like the sky, with a giant doll at the other side.

You sigh, still confused at how you ended up here with 456 other people in ugly green tracksuits and millions, if not billions, of won in debt.

He raps you a song, also stating his name is Thanos, which you try to tune out but its mediocrity makes you stifle a laugh. He notices, and your sweet smile makes him smile.

“I like you.” He says, flashing you a little heart with his fingers. You roll your eyes, walking past him as he lingers on your trail.

A man runs out, player 456, you note. He begins screaming, saying the game was “Red Light, Green Light” and the doll was going to kill us if we moved. His reaction makes you nervous, his fear seemed so genuine.

“My dad comes home like this sometimes,” Thanos says, noticing your shift in demeanor. “Saying there’s bugs in the walls and his phone’s been tapped by the government.”

“Do you think the guy yelling is high?” You ask.

He smirks a little before answering, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Fuck no.”

The game begins, and Thanos takes your hand. You go to pull away but his grip is tight.

“Let go.” You whisper, on a red light.

“Come on, señorita. Let’s stick together.” He whispers back.

Before you can respond, the girl in front of you starts screaming about a bee landing on her. She faces you both and laughs a little.

“Oh, shit. I just moved, didn’t I?”

Bang.

Blood splatters on you and Thanos’ face.

“Don’t scream.” He whispers, but even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. Your body is in shock, frozen. You grip his hand in return now, trying to hold your shaking.

More rounds continue, but neither of you move. That is until the man tells you to finish you have to be behind the doll. Thanos moves you behind him, and you press your head into his back with your eyes shut tight, gripping his jacket. He slowly moves, pulling you with him.

A woman reacts to the body, and an another shot goes off. Panic ensues, as people run and shots fire continuously. All you can hear is screaming and shooting.

During the next green light Thanos doesn’t move, but you feel him fidgeting around. Two rounds go by of this before he finally moves again.

He lurches forward, and you feel him go “Ding” as he pushes a group of people down. Three shots ring off, and during the next green light you let go of him. He doesn’t even notice, skipping and jumping and dancing during every green light.

In the end, you survive. Splattered in blood, yes, but alive nonetheless.

You avoid him after that, feeling unnerved by the way he played during the games. You noticed him sharing a pill with a guy later, which made his behavior in the game make sense to you.

You sat on your bed, your face buried in your knees as you rocked back and forth. The lights were out, everyone going to sleep but, how could you? After everything you saw?

You glanced up at the piggy bank, glowing gold

and filled with won.

———

The next game was about to begin.

You had been brought into a room, eerily similar to the one with the doll, except the room had rainbow tracks and pink suit men standing around it. They ordered you to get into teams of 5.

You wandered around, searching for a group of people who wouldn’t kill you for fun.

“Hi.”

You turned, facing a handsome dark haired man, his hair half tied up. He was neatly kept, carrying himself with confidence and grace, despite everything.

“Hi.” You respond, meekly.

“Would you like to join our group?” He motions to the 4 men behind him. Their faces are stoic, but they look friendly enough. You notice the one man on the team was the one who warned everyone about the last games. You accept their offer; it’s not like you really had a choice anyway. Besides, why not let them pity you if they felt sorry enough to offer you a spot? No one else was itching to have you on your team…

Or so you thought.

On the other side of the room, Thanos was searching for you to be in his group. He felt inclined to protect you now after the events of the first game. The drugs were fueling him into wanting to be the hero of your story. He was convinced he could you get out of here, and you would tell the world Thanos the Great saved you with a snap of his fingers. Besides, such a sweet face like yours? It would be such a waste for you to die somewhere so silly.

He finds you, in the sea of people, talking to another man.

He fumes with rage, the ecstasy making him react more uncontrollably than usual.

He bites his lip, all of his prior convictions now forgotten. Let the bitch die then, he thinks to himself.

The games start, and players drop like flies from the first groups alone.

Thanos’ team goes, and you can’t help but cheer when you see them play successfully. You jump up and down, laughing and clapping at their win.

Thanos locks his eyes on yours, noticing your childlike joy at his win. It makes him strangely prideful, makes him forget why he was so mad at you in the first place.

He bows to you, like a musician after a performance. You blush a little, smiling at him, forgetting why he scared you in the first place.

Your team is last, and you’re up first playing ddakji. Your whole team plays successfully, and you survive another round of the games.

You go back to your bunks, Dae Ho wrapping a friendly and comforting arm around you as you both walk. You sit with your group, eating and laughing while you slowly forget the chaos around you.

Thanos watched it all play out with Dae Ho again. His palms were sweaty the whole time, hoping you’d survive and walk back into that room. The second you walked back through the door alive, his eyes were on you.

“Are you good?” Nam Gyu asks Thanos, noticing his eyes constantly following you.

“I don’t know what the fuck are you talking about.” Thanos spits, defensively. He takes another pill, needing the courage for his next move.

“Let me have one.” Nam Gyu begs. Thanos reluctantly hands one over.

Nam Gyu takes it with haste, as Thanos stands and makes his way towards you. He quickly gets up and follows his friend, ready for whatever fight may come.

Each time you laugh at Dae Ho, Thanos picks his pace up a little faster. He’s convinced that it’s like with each laugh that slips past your honey coated lips, then the closer Dae Ho is to getting to taste them. He sways his body unnaturally as he walks, wanting to appear more bad ass than he really felt.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He says as he approaches you.

“Thanos.” You say, a warning in your voice to leave you alone.

“You good, bro?” Dae Ho asks.

“Why the fuck are you talking to my girl?” He addresses Dae Ho now. You and Dae Ho both scoff in disbelief, but this is how your reaction played out in Thanos’ mind.

They both laugh

“Dae Ho, you’re so funny.”

“Well, you’re sexy.”

“Let’s make out and fuck right here in front of Thanos.”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

He reaches his hand out, grabbing you by your jacket and yanking you to your feet.

“Thanos!” You yell. Dae Ho and In Ho stand up to diffuse the situation. Before they can even intervene, you land a closed fist to Thanos’ eye.

He backs away, holding it as a little cut forms.

“Crazy bitch.” He says. He points at Dae Ho. “You stay away from her.”

“Fuck off.” You yell at Thanos. He backs away, still facing you and nodding his head in anger. His face reads This isn’t over.

“You okay?” Dae Ho asks. You nod, slightly breathless.

The way Thanos grabbed you was rude,

unnecessary,

controlling…

and hot.

You wanted to kick yourself for feeling so attracted to him in that moment. He was mentally unstable, high; everything that could be wrong with a man, he was.

Yet here you were, yearning for a piece of him just as he yearned for you.

Later that night, you couldn’t sleep in your bunk. You were stressed with nerves, with the thought that each next day could be your last. You tapped your foot relentlessly against the frame of the bed, until a person above you made a threat.

You sighed, getting up and walking to the door to be let to the bathroom.

You washed your face again for what was probably the 15th time, feeling like the blood was still on you.

You didn’t even hear the door, didn’t hear him walk up behind you, didn’t notice he was there until his hands were on your hips.

You gasped, turning with your fist, ready to make a collision; but Thanos was quicker than you this time, catching your wrist before you could seal the hit.

“Whoa.” He said, “Relax, girl.”

“What are you doing in here?” You yelled at him. He shushed you, making a tcht tcht tcht sound.

“You embarrassed me out there.” He said, tilting his head to show you his bruised eye.

“You? How about you yanking me to my feet in a room full of people?”

He says nothing, but he smirks at you.

“You’re just so pretty. How am I supposed to sit back and watch my girl flirt with other men?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Is that what you think I am?”

“It’s what I know you are.” He says lowly, his hand resting against your throat. “You’re mine.”

“I’m not yours. You don’t ask, you just take from people. You’re a bully.”

“What are we, kids on a school yard? I’m a bully?” He steps closer than he already was, pressing himself into you.

“Yes.” You whisper out.

“Quiet now, aren’t we?” He teases, his voice low.

“If you’re gonna kill me, just fucking do it.” You say.

He laughs loudly, “Kill you? Get serious, girl.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.”

You say nothing. Your hands are pressed against the counter top of the sink, and his body is pressed against yours. Chest to chest, you have nowhere to go.

“Move.” You say. Your eyes are locked, and you feel like prey being tortured by predator. Tortured in the way he’s doing nothing, just staring you down. He doesn’t budge still.

You grab him by his collar, pulling his face inches from yours.

“Move.” You say again, your voice pleading.

He notices. You’re not pleading him to move because of fear, you’re pleading for him to move because of lust.

His fingers trail up your arm, then trace your jaw to pull your chin up. He laces his fingers through your hair, pulling you so that your lips are on his.

He didn’t expect you to kiss him the way you did, it took him by such surprise, which he dared never admit because he was almost never surprised. But the way you grabbed his collar, trying to pull him so deep into you that you both might collapse into each other like stars.

“Where’d this come from?” He asks breathlessly, barely able to break away from you to get the question out.

“Can you just shut up?” You say quickly, pulling him back into you.

“As my queen commands.” He says, matching your ferocity with the kiss.

Both of his hands rest on your cheeks while he kisses you, but you take one and slowly push it down to your sweats.

“Why so eager?” He asks, breathlessly.

“You’re talking too much.” You say, pushing him off you. “Get on your knees.”

He scoffs, shocked. “Are you serious?”

You nod, and so he listens. He kisses down your body, tugging on your sweats when he’s on his knees. He kisses your thighs, mumbling sweet nothings about your body that were too soft to hear.

“Thanos-“

“Su Bong.” He corrects you, needing to hear you moan his real name.

“Su Bong, please don’t tease me.” You whine, so he concedes. Lifting up your leg onto his shoulder so he can kiss and lick and suck every part of you. You whine, pulling his purple tufts of hair.

“You are so sweet,” He whispers. “Sweet like candy.”

“Oh, my boy.” You moan, egging him on. His nails grip into your thighs unintentionally. He’s just so desperate for you, desperate to taste every drop.

Your nails dig into his forearm, scratching for release.

“Please, oh, please, Su Bong.”

He looks up at you, pupils dilated like the size of black holes. You throw your head back, grinding your hips into his mouth, chasing your release.

You pull his hair harshly, and he digs his nails into your thighs even more as you release. You cry out, repeating his name like a prayer, and he moans into you, fueling your release. He doesn’t miss a drop.

He comes off you, breathless. He sets your leg down, pulling your sweats back up as he stands.

You stare at each other, both of you panting in silence for a few moments. You sneak your hand down, resting it against his hard crotch. You smirk a little, and he mirrors it.

“I think I love you.” He moans as you rub him.

“I think you’re high.” You respond, and he laughs and nods. He leans down to kiss you again, gentler this time.

“Do you want one?” He asks, nodding to his necklace. You hesitate, but end up shaking your head no.

“I think we should head back.” You whisper, still rubbing him. He shakes his head no, moaning into your neck. He grips your jacket in desperate agony.

“I need you so bad.” He finally admits.

“Fine.” You fold, and he’s ever so quick to pull your sweats back down. He unhooks one of your legs from the pants, pulling it up so he can rest it around his hips as he pushes his sweats down just slightly so he can insert himself into you.

So, there you both are. Standing with one leg hooked around him and absolutely gripping the sink as he thrusts into you relentlessly. You don’t even try to hide your moans, throwing your head back in euphoria as Thanos buries his face in your neck with shameful whimpers. You grip onto whatever part of him you can for support. Your back is slamming into the edge of the sink over and over, surely leaving a bruise on your tailbone.

He kisses and sucks on your neck, leaving dark bruised purple hickeys on every inch. Marking you, so that you knew who you belong to and so that everyone else out there knew too.

His thrusts were relentless, and the angle he fucked you was crucial, hitting into your cervix each time. Your hands pushed on his hips, resisting his movements slightly, which only fueled him more.

“Stop it.” He moans.

“You stop, you’re being so rough.” You whimper.

“This is me being gentle,” He says. “You want something less than this, then I better not ever catch you speaking to another man again.”

You moan in defeated acceptance, grasping at his shoulders instead for balance. His perfect thrusts make you leak all over him, his pants soaked with your juices.

“You’re so wet.” He moans. “I think you’re gonna make me cum.”

You tighten around him, sending him into a frenzy. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs, and you yank him by the collar to pull his lips onto yours.

“Fuck, I’m cumming, oh please.” You beg him, between kisses.

“I’ve got you.” He manages to get out, holding you as you let out the most heavenly cry. Your moans send him over, and he pulls out to spill himself all over your cunt.

He smears it on your folds with his hands, and you smack his chest, giving him a push off you while he laughs at your irritability.

“You’re such a dick.” You say, wiping yourself with a paper towel from the dispenser. He kisses your neck with a smirk.

“Come lay with me when you’re done.” He says, walking out of the bathroom.

You roll your eyes, cleaning yourself up before walking out.

You re enter the bunks, searching the room for his bed. He’s in a lower ish one, laying down with hands resting behind his head and his eyes blissfully closed. Your eyes move back and forth between his bed and your empty one, until your feet start moving before your mind can even decide.

He doesn’t even open his eyes when you crawl in beside him. He just wraps his arm around you, kissing your temple as you both drift off to sleep,

both of you blissfully unaware of the horrors of tomorrow’s game…

Part 2?

[planetdream]

AN EVENING IN THE WOODS !

CHARACTERS ! werewolf!bang chan, human!reader

GENRE ! horror/thriller but barely, smut [minors dni]

WORDS ! 3.3k

SYNOPSIS ! on a drunken game night, you're dared to take a little stroll through the woods after rumors of a werewolf lurking through the town.

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! more thriller than horror i think. mentions of alcohol. being chased/stalked; mentions of being 'kept'. reader desc. wearing long skirt + called 'good girl'. smut [dubcon(?)—reader is basically being used. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possessiveness. [rough] sex in the woods. monsterfucking ig. large cock channie <3. pussy eating. facefucking. cumplay + creampie. belly bulge oops. dumbification(?) growling..] used the word 'beast' a lot oops. it gets weird idk

💌 ngl...i think i forgot how to write smut u guys... this is partially inspired by a brief part in house of leaves by mark z. danielewski, but like, not really at all iykyk. anyway, as u kno, i always appreciate feedback <3

There’s a big difference between vampire hunters and werewolf hunters. The creatures are different from each other in both ferocity and nature; thus, the study and hunt of them will differ based on several factors. Hunters of said creatures are expected to know what to do in situations in which they are faced with such foul beasts. You, quite frankly, are neither a vampire nor a werewolf hunter. Inexperienced to the point where you couldn’t begin to imagine what you would do if faced with anything that is such a monstrous terror, let alone a werewolf. Yet, here you are, prancing around the cold forest like a delicious piece of meat, praying that you don’t cross paths with anything—man or beast.

About a month ago, men and women alike began disappearing from town in the late hours of the night, not to be seen or heard from again. In the following weeks, numbers of missing people have only risen, leading many to believe that there might be a serial killer on the loose. That, however, was only until word got around that a town drunkard had seen what he could only describe as a ‘terrifyingly large rabid dog’. ‘It had to be about six feet tall just standing there’, he said, swearing solemnly, even vowing to quit drinking in an effort to portray his seriousness. The man wept, “It was one of them werewolves. I swear by it.” 

Only from there did word travel through the town. Though, no one believed the drunk old man, laughing at his testimony—‘A werewolf? In this town? That’s impossible’—some treating it as some fable, or a game, even. Which is what leads to you, alone, in the woods tonight. A fun game of truth or dare with your friends—being a chronic truth picker, tonight (with a little liquid courage) you decide that you want nothing but to humor your associates, you chose dare—turns into you blindly making your way into the dark forest with nothing but a lamp, pocket knife, and a few neon stickers to help you make your way back; and that’s only if you’re not murdered. 

By the looks of it, the surrounding forest is empty. The only sounds come from the rustling of tree leaves mingling together due to the wind, the sounds of birds squawking in the far distance, and the snapping and crunching of twigs and leaves beneath your shoes. You trek your way through the trees and dirt extremely unnerved. Nothing has happened at all, and although you’re thankfully still alive and breathing, making your way through the clutter of trees and dead wood, you cannot help but be a bit frightened about the dreariness and uncertainty of the situation. 

It’s a cold night, predicted to snow a bit; temperature dropping lower and lower with each hour that falls. The sun had set a while ago and the purple-orange hue leftover has now faded from blue into black. And while the stars are beginning to show themselves—pristine and beautiful—the dark sky only adds to the dreariness of your walk through the forest. The sudden additional silence is eerie, nature has stilled completely. Although the echo of stillness is inexplicable, unusual; it comforts you—knowing that you would hear your assailant coming, should you come close to being attacked. 

When looking at your watch, you find that you’ve only been in the forest for fifteen of the required thirty minutes—it’s very possible that you can go the distance, turning on your heels and deciding to make your fifteen minute walk back to the edge of the dark forest; and most importantly, to safety. After all, your friends must be worried about you by now; maybe even surprised that you’ve really stuck to the dare. In a matter of minutes, this will be all over and you will be resting at home.

You had to have been walking in one straight direction, right? Maybe because it’s dark, and you, admittedly, have drunk quite a bit, but the placemarkers you remember sticking to the trees along your path are nowhere to be found. The light of your lamp shines against tree after tree, but they remain in their natural state, unchanged. Your eyes widen, heartbeat increasing as you look at the leftover placemarkers you hold in your hand, only six remaining of your original twenty—so you know you’ve used them. 

You stop in your tracks, not willing to venture any further than you already have. Mind racing, scanning and assessing all the possible things you can do, slowly slipping into a panic. You could scream as loud as you can, vocally expressing your need for rescue; but how likely is it that you’ll be heard, especially given how deep into this unchanging landscape you are. Perhaps you can continue walking ahead, only praying that you make your way out unharmed—after all, safety should have been just a fifteen minute walk ahead.

As you lift your foot a few centimeters off of the ground to make your first step, through the darkness of the forest and out of your peripherals, you swear you see a large shadow for just a split second—lurched over and next to a thick tree to your right. A chill runs down your spine and you shudder as you realize the presence of this creature; intimidating and dominant. Taking no chances, feet hitting the ground hard as you sprint through the woods, doing your best to escape this nightmare; real or otherwise. 

The action of running when you feel like you’re being chased, versus running because you are being chased, are quite similar. It’s all instinct, a gut feeling that you jump on, increased heart rate; it’s choosing to flee rather than to fight. The difference, in this moment, you realize, is the definite risk of getting caught. The consequences could prove to be unsatisfactory, at the very least, if you were to be caught by whatever it is that may be following after you. Although, looking behind, there’s nothing in sight—no sign of disaster nor danger. You continue along, albeit a lot slower than before, attempting to catch your breath a bit. Walking off trail just a bit to slow down and assess your next course of action. 

The snapping of a twig within your vicinity has you darting from the temporary hiding place. However, the predator is right on your trail, persisting in its hunt for flesh. You weave your way through the woods, brain firing off about escaping quickly without harm. The chase does not last long, though. One misstep taking you down, tumbling. Briefly, in your panic, you appear to meet eyes with the foul beast. Fear lodged in your throat, dry and brittle—crumbling into tiny little pieces that pester your insides like a million tiny beetles finding a dark, cavernous home. Stomach clenching, seizing as you cower in submission to your terror. Hands buried into the freshly fallen snow—previous footsteps already blanketed over and long gone. Never have you thought you would give up so easily; unsure if you’ve got it within you to fight back in the absolute worst case. 

Body stuck in place, paralyzed with fear once you hear the snow behind you crunch, a sign that the creature is inching closer to you. It’s like your life flashes before your eyes once you feel the snout of the creature pressed against the back of your neck, heat blowing against the back of your neck, followed by a short, deep snarl emitting from within the beast. The large presence behind you is undeniable. The way the creature towers over you is horrifying—a domineering and overbearing sense of power, exuding pride and strength in the form of body heat. It circles you, though you are too terrified to look towards it, despite the daring growl it emits. Heart racing, nearly about to jump out of your chest and run away itself. The creature begins to circle around you, and out of the corner of your eye you can see its feet—huge black paws. Oh great! You’ll be eaten alive. 

But then the feet of the beast turns into man, and slowly you raise your face to get a good look at its true face. He starts off as a blur initially, but the longer you look at him, the more recognizable he becomes. A face you’ve always seen lurking around town. Though despite the area being rather small, you’ve never formally interacted—only stared at each other from a distance then kept it moving. Tonight, however, you finally decided to walk up to him at the local bar whilst with friends, only for him to walk away without a word. ‘Oh, him? Yeah, Chan is just like that.’

“Mmm. What’s that smell?” Chan asks while humming. Arms caging you in against the tree as he presses his nose against your neck, right near a particularly sweet spot. “Smells heavenly. So sweet and delicious.” 

He continues to sniff you out, planting a small kiss to your neck before traveling lower, nose now pressed to the fabric of your clothing. Face pressed in between the valley of your breast, Chan takes a long, deep inhale. His eyes are closed as he pulls back, slightly smirking with clear contentment. Chan takes the material of your shirt pinched between his fingertips before tearing the shirt down the middle, groaning at your now exposed chest. His hands cup your tits, thumbs teasing at your nipples, as he runs his nose down the valley, before swiping back up with his tongue. 

Chan isn’t done, nose still pressed against your skin as he sinks down to his knees. Rough hands cupping your ass, squeezing, as he stops—nose pressed against your mound, breathing you in while trying to pull you closer, finally finding the source of that sweet, heavenly scent. He’s breathing heavily to the point that you can feel his hot breath against your skin through the thin material of your skirt; snarling as he takes in your scent. And he’s mumbling something down there—pussy hungry words about how fucking delectable you smell. Perfect to devour. 

Contrary to the petrifying circumstance, the rush of adrenaline you get in the moment is euphoric and exhilarating. Chan’s touch is hot against you, almost scorching, and leaves you wanting—no, needing more of him. 

He hikes up the long length of your skirt with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder to force your hips towards his face, diving face first into your cunt. Tongue lapping up hungrily at your wetness, moaning and groaning without a care in the world as he gets the first taste of his meal. Plump lips sucking your clit, vibrating when he moans, causing you to shake and squirm, but Chan has a strong grip against you. He’s messy as he eats you—occasionally breaking free, not for air, but to spit against your cunt—as the lower half of his face is covered in your nectar; which he hopes never washes off, absolutely frenzied by your scent, cock hard and leaking cum, jumping at the thought of finally getting to fuck his cock into this sweet little cunt. 

While Chan is usually a patient man, having no problem in waiting—stalking his prey and then teasing them for hours upon hours on end—he finds himself struck with need. A particular need to feast. To fuck and destroy his prey. Days and days of stalking you, taunting you from afar, and you played right into his palm—obviously fated to be found afraid and lost, deep in his territory. It is at this point he thinks to keep you. Perhaps hide you away somewhere cold and dark where only he’d be able to find you. Keeping you bound to him until he gets sick of you—or until you cease to exist. Aching to fuck you over and over and over again until it becomes too difficult for you to even think about moving a muscle, succumbing fully to his torturous pleasure. He stops himself from thinking too far ahead all too soon, clearly entranced by the sweetness of your cunt. 

Chan springs to his feet; cock heavy, hard and curving to the right, tip swelling red with need and dripping with precum. Your eyes are glued to his cock as you watch him massage his right hand over it; even in his big palms his cock is huge. The excitement to take him spreads from the pit of your stomach and up your chest, visualizing into the form of goosebumps all over your arms. He just laughs at the look on your face; how equally intrigued and dismayed you appear. A perfect little lamb stalked and caught by the big bad wolf, unable to flee due to their own fascination despite their fright. 

Chan leans in, his lips against yours briefly. A hand curling into your hair to bring you down to your knees, you follow suit. His hand stays tangled in your hair, pulling harshly against your scalp. With his other hand, Chan strokes his cock, running his thumb over the tip; then pulling your head towards his tip. Eagerly, your tongue slips from your mouth, ready to taste everything he’s giving you. You swirl your tongue around him, but Chan has other plans, slowly sliding his cock into your mouth; helping you savor the slightly salty taste of his seed. Fixing your mouth open as wide as it can go, with both hands now tangled into your hair, he thrusts his cock in and out of your mouth, slowly increasing the speed of his thrust. 

“You just take it like a good girl, huh?” You don’t say anything, but that dazed look in your eye and the moan that escapes from deep in your throat tells Chan all he needs to know. 

“Perfect little mouth, but I bet that pussy is even better.” Chan frees his cock from your mouth with a trail of spit. His hand around his cock once again, the slick sound like music to your ears. Though, it’s at this point that the cold air is starting to get to you—the snow is light but still continuous—yet you power through it for just another taste of Chan. 

“Want you so bad,” You bite your lip, looking into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed together. You stand and stretch to turn your back to him, looking over your shoulder as you wiggle your backside towards him like a bitch in heat. Chan smirks at you, a small laugh erupting from him at the sight of your shamelessness.   

In the heat of the moment, Chan licks the palm of his hand before bringing it down to rub at your cunt from behind. He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear a long, deep snarl come from within his chest. The closer he gets to you, the louder the growl echoes, and the more he warms you with his body heat—caging you in against the tree. You grind into his hand, greedily taking anything he gives you. While Chan is steadily becoming just as impatient as you, he always spares time to play with his food; teasing the tip of his cock against your slit. Chan slowly slides into your cunt—a rough hand clenching onto your hip, nails digging into your skin; not nearly enough to keep him from losing his cool as your wetness encases his cock, wet and tight. 

You’re barely taking half of his dick before the stretch of it nearly becomes too much—but he’s one step ahead of you; arm snakes across your belly and down to your cunt, two wet fingers ready to play with your clit. Chan works his fingers against your clit slowly winding you up, all while planting a quick kiss against your shoulder; tongue drooling out to lick a long wet stripe against your neck. It’s only once he receives a moan from you in response that he starts thrusting into you slowly; the thrusts of his hips syncing with the movement of his fingers. 

It isn’t long before you’re taking more and more of his cock, being stuffed and stretched deliciously. Cunt leaking and begging for more of him. Chan lets out these harsh growls and grunts that contrast with the pitch of your moans. His nails dig into your hips, using a minimal amount of strength to pull your hips back against him, making you meet his thrusts. His hips smack against your ass roughly, cock stretching you further, but your cunt swallows every inch perfectly. That’s only until he slides out of you, wordless, yet, still letting out a snarl. He pushes you onto the ground, hands and knees crashing into the new layers of snow. You yelp out in response, but Chan can only laugh at you. 

“Just letting me push you around like this? I think I should keep you,” He follows you, kneeling onto the ground, cock in hand. Laying  a quick smack at your ass, he hums. “How would you feel about being my little plaything, huh?”

His free hand kneads against your ass while he plays with his cock. “Keep you locked up with me ‘n only let you out in these woods at night, hmm? All cute ‘n naked for me to hunt down and fuck again.”

“And you can’t even hide cause I’ll always find you, pretty.” He finally slides into your cunt, still not letting you have all of him, yet. “How does that sound? Do you like it?”

His words are filthy and so are his touches but somehow he’s got you entranced. You let out a loud, cracked sob of a yes in response to his inquiries as if he bullied it out of you. “Good girl.” 

Chan finally allows himself to break—hips snapping harshly into yours. Not caring if you go limp from the way he’s fucking into you, instead his hands are once again clenching your hips, grinding his hips against your ass whenever he thrusts his cock back into you. Your fists clutching onto the snow as you take his cock, unable to do much but drool and mewl for him. 

He presses his chest across your back, caging you onto the cold ground. His tongue once again flat against your skin, licking every inch of what exposed skin he has access to. Still pounding into you as he chases his impending orgasm. Then he sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, letting out a whine rather than the usual growl as he fucks his cum into you. It’s hot, sticky, and heavy—and it seems like it’s unending; seemingly producing more and more as he pumps his cock into you. Slowly Chan reaches a hand down to press against your lower abdomen; feeling how your belly swells with all the cum his cock is feeding your cunt. 

You moan at the feeling when Chan pulls out of you with a sigh of exhaust. Cum coating his cock and spilling out of your cunt, staining your thighs. So much of his seed has spilled out and he’s no longer stuffing you with his cock, but yet you feel so full. Chan continues to incite, two thick fingers dip into your cunt to scoop up and play with the excess cum that’s dripping from your hole. 

Chan pulls you back to him by your arms, caging you against his chest. He whispers to you. “What if we played a fun little game, hm?”

He grips your chin and those same two digits that were once inside of you, force into your mouth, offering you another taste of Chan’s cum. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, “Let’s say, I give you a ten second head start to run.”

Chan kisses the back of your neck and a chill runs down your spine. “The ten seconds start now.” 

He frees you from his hold, and springs to his feet leaving you dumbfounded. But by the time you stand and face the direction of Chan, legs weak and cold, he’s no longer there.

It seems his fun little game has officially started. 

© PLANETDREAM 2024

[happy74827]

After Hours

[Billy x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You never fully believed the saying, “wrong place, wrong time…” until now {GIF credits: moviebuffs on tumblr}

WC: 4,392 (whoops)

Category: Hurt/Comfort {TW — Melinda, threats, mention of drugs + blood, lots of cursing}

I watched this two nights ago with my friend (love you @yoursacredqueenmother) and now here I am… obsessed. The ending was lame ngl but I highly recommend this movie if you like messed up situations (and Josh looking spicy 🥵).

『••✎••』

You hated driving at night. All the darkness outside and the light reflecting from the headlights, it all gave you a headache.

Your eyes darted over to the passenger's seat. It was empty and you were glad. The road was bad enough, you couldn't imagine trying to deal with someone else's conversation while driving.

The only sound was the soft rumble of the car, the whirring of the engine, and the sound of the tires rolling over the rough pavement. Your hands were tense on the steering wheel as you squinted in an attempt to see a few feet ahead of you. There were no lights out here, no street lights or traffic lights, and you were starting to think there wouldn't be any towns, either.

It would be the last straw if you ran out of gas out here.

You didn't even know where you were going, you were just following the GPS's directions and praying it would get you out of this desert and somewhere safe.

You sighed and shifted in your seat, tapping the steering wheel anxiously. You hadn't seen any other cars for a few hours now, which wasn't unusual, but it was still a little nerve-wracking to be driving out in the middle of nowhere.

But of course, as all nightmares go, suddenly, your car made a strange noise and started slowing down.

"Shit!" you hissed, smacking the steering wheel. "Shit shit shit!"

The car sputtered and then finally came to a complete stop, the engine dying. You slammed your hands against the wheel, feeling tears of anger and frustration welling up in your eyes. You were completely and utterly screwed.

You sat in the car for a while, letting the silence and darkness envelop you. The heat had faded quickly as soon as the sun had set, leaving behind an eerie chill that seeped through your clothes and into your skin.

You took a deep breath and looked around, but you could barely make out the landscape around you. It was pitch black and you knew if you tried to leave the car you would lose it immediately and end up getting hopelessly lost. You weren't sure what to do.

You looked over at the empty passenger seat, now wishing more than anything that you had someone with you.

You sighed and laid your head back, trying not to think about how scared and alone you felt.

As you sat there, staring up at the roof of the car, you decided you needed a plan. You couldn't just sit here forever, and if you were going to get anywhere, you were going to need help.

You grabbed your phone from the cup holder and held down the power button, watching as the screen lit up. You had service, thankfully, and a decent amount of battery left. You unlocked the screen and opened the maps app, waiting as it searched for your location.

You watched anxiously as the small circle spun, feeling a pit of dread growing in your stomach as the minutes ticked by.

After what felt like an eternity, the screen finally lit up. You sighed and put a hand on your chest, feeling relieved.

Zoomed out on the map, you looked for the nearest town. You didn’t find one, but you found a gas station… they were sure to have a jumper cable, right?

You plugged the coordinates into the GPS and started the car again, hoping that it would start.

It didn’t, of course. The whole point of getting stranded was that your car wouldn't start. So, you had no choice but to walk.

You grabbed a bag from the back seat and threw a few necessities inside, along with your wallet, your phone, your charger, and a small pepper spray bottle that your best friend had insisted you carry.

You were glad she'd been so insistent, you'd never have thought you'd need it.

You slung the bag over your shoulder and opened the door, stepping out into the chilly air. You shivered and closed the door, locking it, and then turned away from the car, setting off into the dark.

The moon was hidden behind thick clouds and the wind whipped around you, kicking up sand and rocks that stung your face and hands. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your coat tighter around your body.

You wished you'd had the foresight to bring a thicker jacket or something, but you hadn't planned on getting stranded.

The walk was slow, the uneven ground and lack of light making the journey difficult. You could hear the wind howling around you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You kept walking, trying not to think about what could be lurking in the shadows, watching your every move.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, you spotted a light in the distance. You picked up your pace, your heart racing. As you got closer, you could see it was the gas station, just like you'd hoped.

You jogged up to the doors, pushing them to open but finding them locked.

You groaned and knocked on the glass, looking inside. There were no lights on, and you couldn't see anyone.

"Hey!" you yelled, pounding on the door. "I need help!"

There was no answer, and you were starting to think no one was inside.

You sighed and sat down on the concrete, putting your face in your hands. You had no idea what you were going to do now. The stupid location said it was open twenty four hours a day, so where was the damn staff?

You were about to get up and try the door again when you were startled by the light above the doors flickered on. You looked up and saw a woman standing behind you, her dark hair flat and dull. Her clothes were a mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

She looked exhausted, and when she spoke, her voice was strained but polite.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled to your feet, trying not to look panicked. But when you noticed the name tag pinned to her shirt that read ‘Melinda,’ your fear melted away and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank god, I thought no one was here," you laughed.

She didn't laugh with you, her face remained emotionless.

"Sorry, I was in the back," she explained. "What can I do for you?"

"My car broke down… honestly, I don’t remember where. It was really dark, and I don’t know this area." You shook your head and continued, "I was hoping I could buy a jumper cable or something? Just enough to get me out of here."

She nodded slowly, her expression never changing.

"Yes, they should be near the back with the other supplies." She paused, eyeing you warily. "I would offer coffee along with it, but… we're out of stock at the moment."

"That's fine," you said. "Just the cable will do."

She nodded again and stepped past you, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. She stepped inside and motioned for you to follow her. You did, and the moment you entered, a rush of cold air hit you, making you shiver.

She walked to the counter, her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. She stopped at the register and began pressing buttons, her movements slow and methodical.

You couldn’t really care at the moment, as your eyes roamed the store, searching for the cables.

You walked down the first aisle, but didn’t see them. You kept walking, and when you came to the second aisle, you spotted them. You were about to grab them, but then you noticed the hall with the bathroom sign hanging from it.

Suddenly, the bottle of water that seemed so important earlier became a major regret. You hadn't gone to the bathroom since before your car broke down, and it was starting to catch up with you.

You took a step towards the bathroom, glancing back to the cashier. You could see her staring down at the counter, her fingers pressed to the keys, not really typing.

You didn't want to interrupt her, so you decided not to ask. You hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You flipped the lock, and then turned to face the mirror.

You grimaced at the sight of yourself. Your hair was messy and your face was dirty. You splashed some water on your face, and then grabbed a paper towel and dried yourself off before doing everything you had to.

You left the bathroom, planning on returning to the aisle, but then you heard a noise.

A small sound, a whimper, like a puppy in pain.

You looked down the hall, trying to find the source. It sounded like it was coming from the storage room.

"Uh, hello?" you called, taking a hesitant step towards the door. "Are you alright?"

There was no response, just another small, pitiful cry.

You bit your lip and pushed the door open, stepping into the darkness.

"Hello?" you said again. "Is someone there?"

The door creaked behind you, and then closed. You spun around, panic rising in your throat. You reached for the handle, but before you could grab it, something moved in the darkness.

You jumped back, a gasp escaping your lips.

Something moved in front of you. You couldn't tell what it was, or where it was, but you knew it was there.

You took a step back, trying to stay calm. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty.

"Please, I just need help with my car," you pleaded.

A low, guttural growl came from the shadows. It sounded like a wild animal, and when it moved again, it was close enough that you could see the outline of its form.

It was… not tall. Not in the slightest. In fact, it probably was only taller than you by an inch, if at all. It was hunched over, its shoulders curved inward, its spine protruding slightly.

It took you a long minute to realize that it was just a guy in a chair. Man, you were blind.

He had on a denim jacket, and it hung off his small frame, the sleeves rolled up. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and he was trembling slightly. That’s when you noticed the bundles of red tape around his eyes, mouth, arms, and legs. He also seemed to be bounded to the chair, strapped down and unable to move.

“Oh my god,” you breathed. You stepped towards him, reaching out a hand, but he jumped out at you, attempting to attack. Though, it was pretty much useless on his end. He couldn’t move more than a couple inches in any direction.

He started to speak afterwards, but the tape had prevented it from being coherent, and all you could make out was a low, angry rumble.

"No! No, no, no!" You stepped back, putting your hands up. It was rather pointless and stupid of you too, because the tape had also covered his eyes, you just looked like an idiot. But, still, you kept them up. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just need some help with my car!"

He growled at you, a low, threatening sound, but then he stopped, seeming to realize that you were telling the truth. He was breathing hard, and his chest was heaving, and then he mumbled something under the tape.

"What?" You asked.

He mumbled again, but you couldn't understand him. It was like talking to a brick wall.

You hesitated, but then moved forward, reaching up to take the tape off. If you had to guess that was probably what he was mumbling about.

He flinched when you touched him, but then relaxed. You peeled the tape away from his face, both the strands across his mouth and the one over his eyes, and dropped it to the floor.

He was breathing heavily, and when you looked up at him, you were surprised by how young he looked. His face was pale and his lips were dry. His hair was greasy and tangled, and the side of his head was badly burned and bruised. There was even dried blood on his temple.

“Jesus, what happened to you?"

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"Get me the fuck out of here, and I'll tell you," he hissed.

His voice was surprisingly smooth, despite how rough he looked. His words were short and sharp, like he was angry.

You weren't sure what to do, but then he started moving.

"Please," he said, his voice sounding desperate. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Just, please. Please get me out of this fucking chair."

"Did that… lady put you in here?”

"Yes, Melinda," he spat. "She's a nutcase psycho. Drugged me and… and… whatever the fuck. Just get me out of here!"

He sounded more frantic now, and his eyes were wide and pleading.

"Well, I-” You started to say, but he cut you off.

"Well what? What’re you waiting for?!”

“I- I need a jumper cable. My car broke down outside… somewhere. I'm not from around here, and- I don't know where I am. I can't exactly go anywhere until my car's fixed."

He looked at you with the most exasperated look you'd ever seen. It was almost comical, how exaggerated the expression was, but then he seemed to relax.

"Alright, how about this…” he said, his voice low and soothing. "You let me out of this shitty chair, and I'll help you fix your car. How's that sound?"

You didn't know what to say. He didn't seem like he was lying, and he seemed to be genuine about his fear. But could you really trust him? You still had no idea who he was or where he came from.

He seemed to sense your hesitation, and his expression softened.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "But I can't really help you unless I can get out of this stupid chair. And if we stay here, Melinda's going to find us, and trust me, you do not want to deal with her."

"And if she finds us, what will she do?"

"Look at Sheila over there wrapped up like a fucking Christmas tree," he replied, jerking his head towards the woman's corpse.

You gasped, covering your mouth.

"Oh my god, I didn’t even notice," you mumbled.

"Yeah, well, she's been dead for about an hour now, so," he said.

"And- and you've been sitting here, tied up the whole time?!"

"Yeah, it's fucking awful," he grumbled. "Now, will you help me, or not?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." You looked down at the remaining tape, trying to decide how best to go about it.

"Just, hurry up," he urged.

"Ok, ok." You reached for the tape, and he leaned forward, letting you pull and tug on the strips.

After a minute, you had all the tape off that was pinning him down and he was able to stand up. Again, he wasn’t that tall, maybe a five to six inches above five feet, but that didn't stop him from moving fast. He darted around the room, looking around frantically, and then grabbed a crowbar from a nearby shelf.

"Where did you even-"

"Not the time," he interrupted.

He turned towards you, his expression hard. He was pretty intimidating, and it wasn’t just because of the crowbar. He was skinny, but muscular, and the way he moved was fluid and agile, like a predator.

Though, you couldn’t help but noticed how attractive he was, with his expressive eyes and the way his hair was pushed back from his face. He was gorgeous.

"Hey," he snapped. "You listening?"

You blinked, and nodded.

"Sorry," you said, shaking your head. "This has just been a very, very strange night."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled. "That’s why when I’m done with her, we are getting the fuck out of here."

"Done with her?"

"Well, yeah, obviously. We're not just gonna let her get away with this shit."

"Um, are you sure that's a good idea? She's, like, a million times your size," You smiled at the small joke, but he didn’t seem amused at all, so you added, "Not to mention, hurting people seems like a bit of an extreme response."

"Hurting people is kinda her thing," he muttered.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.

"Look, are you coming with me, or not? Because, if not, then just leave. You're already making this way more complicated than it needs to be."

"I can’t leave, not until my car's fixed," you protested. "That's why I'm here in the first place.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.

"Ok, fine, fine," he relented. "Whatever. You can come with me, but just don't slow me down, alright?"

"Right," you said, nodding.

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. He just started walking, motioning for you to follow. You did, and soon the two of you were standing outside the storage room, the door open and the hallway beyond shrouded in darkness.

"Alright, the plan is, I'm going to distract her and make her pay," he whispered. "While I'm doing that, you're going to grab the keys to her car or whatever and get it started. We'll meet up outside and drive off, and that'll be the end of it."

"You're… very confident for someone who was tied up to a chair five minutes ago," you had another attempt at lightening the mood, but he just gave you a pointed look.

Again, he didn’t seem amused. "Yeah, well, she's a bitch, and I don't appreciate being treated like a goddamn lab rat."

He has an odd way of speaking, you noticed. His words were short and clipped, and he never used more than he needed. It was a little intimidating, but mostly it was just kind of interesting.

"How’d do you even end up like that, anyway?"

He gave you another one of his annoyed looks. It was weird how much he could convey with just his eyes, but the look was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

"Don’t ask stupid questions,"

"Well, it seems like a reasonable question, considering the circumstances," you retorted.

He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Look, do you want my help or not?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, of course,"

"Then stop asking stupid questions and focus on the task at hand. You get the car, I'll take care of Melinda. Simple."

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded. He seemed pleased with your response and began to lead the way down the hall, moving quietly and staying close to the walls.

You followed him, keeping your footsteps light. As you went, you thought about the situation.

Melinda, in the five minutes of knowing her, never struck you as the violent type. A little socially weird, yes, but not violent. It seemed out of character, and you wondered if she had a reason for acting the way she did. Or maybe she was just crazy, like the guy had said.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw him hold up a hand. You stopped, and he pointed to the corner. You looked, and saw Melinda's form moving past the entrance to the hall, a flashlight in her hand.

The man motioned for you to stay put and moved silently towards the entrance. You watched him, unable to do anything else.

When he reached the opening, he paused. He was still, and for a moment, you thought he had lost his nerve.

He didn't hesitate for long. In one quick motion, he darted out of the hall, his crowbar held high.

Melinda jumped back, the light from her flashlight swinging wildly as she tried to regain her footing. She swung her flashlight at him, and the metal bar made a dull clang when it collided with her temporary weapon.

He stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He lunged at her again, but this time she was ready. He had stopped fast when she pulled out a gun, pointing it at his head.

I guess he was telling the truth.

“Just stop, okay? You can leave now, I'll let you go. Just don't-"

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to a word you say," the man interrupted, his tone low and menacing.

She stammered, trying to think of an answer. She didn't get the chance, though. Her eyes had caught sight of you, and she had noticed that you weren't where she had left you.

"Oh, oh god," she whispered, her voice filled with horror. "No, no, no. No, you weren't supposed to-"

The man swung the crowbar, and the gun flew out of her hand, skidding across the floor.

He moved in quickly, swinging his arm again. She dodged, and the metal bar hit the wall, creating a large dent in the plaster.

Melinda backed away, her hands raised, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she cried, backing away from him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry?! You… you drugged me and tried to…” He paused, stopping momentarily before pointing the crowbar at her face. “The point is, sorry isn't going to cut it, you bitch."

He swung at her again, and again, she dodged.

She was fast, and he wasn't, and soon, he had lost his balance. She shoved him hard, sending him flying backwards.

He landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He didn't move, and Melinda stood over him, panting and wild eyed. The gun found her hands again, and she pointed it at his head, her hand trembling.

You had to do something. You couldn't just stand by and watch him die.

You did the only thing you could think of.

You went into your bag and took out the very same pepper spray that you had been carrying since the start of this nightmare, and fired.

The stream hit her right in the eyes, and she screamed, dropping the gun. It hit the floor with a loud thunk, and you dove for it, picking it up and pointing it at her.

"Don't move," you yelled, your voice shaking. "I'm warning you. I'm not afraid to use this."

Actually, that was a lie. You were absolutely terrified, and your hands were trembling so badly that you were barely able to keep a grip on the gun.

But you couldn't back down now. Not after everything you had been through.

She had stopped screaming, but was still clutching her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She was moaning and stumbling around, trying to find her way back to the wall.

She finally found it, and leaned against it, her eyes closed.

"Please, please don't hurt me," she sobbed. "I didn't want to do it. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Please don't hurt me."

You glanced at the man. He was staring up at you, his expression unreadable.

"I should take that gun and shoot you right now," he said. "After what you did, I should kill you."

"Please," she whimpered.

He stared at her, and for a moment, you didn't know what he would do. Then, he got to his feet, picking up his crowbar as he did so.

Before she can even react he took a swing, hitting her right in the stomach. She gasped and fell to the floor, curling up into a ball.

He took another swing, this time aiming for her face.

You stepped forward, about to tell him to stop, but the blow didn't land.

Instead, he stood there, the crowbar held high. Melinda was looking up at him, her face red and streaked with tears.

"I just needed money," he spoke, his voice low and harsh. "That's it. Money. No one was supposed to get hurt, just a simple robbery with no one getting hurt."

She said nothing, just stared at him.

You, on the other hand, were frozen in shock. Robbery? He was robbing the damn station?

He sighed and lowered the crowbar, shaking his head.

"It's not like I wanted to do this, okay? I needed the money, and it was just an easy target. But you couldn't just let me get away, could you? You just had to make it difficult. Now look at the mess we're in."

"You were robbing?” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper, but it still cut through the tension like a knife.

He didn't turn, but his shoulders sagged slightly.

"Look, it's not what you think, okay?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I was in trouble, probably still am, and I needed money. Lots of it. That's why I picked this place, because it was an easy target. I wasn't planning on anyone getting hurt, I was just going to rob the place and get out. I wasn't expecting this crazy lady to come along."

He gestured to Melinda, who was still curled up on the ground.

"I was just trying to rob the place," he repeated. "It was nothing personal. And look, you helped me, so I guess I owe you one, or whatever. So, let's just call it even, and we can go our separate ways. Deal?"

“Even Melinda?” You asked, your voice shaking.

He paused, and his eyes flicked over to the woman on the ground, a slight grimace crossing his face.

"Of course not. She was a psychopath who tied me up and threatened me, and I'm not about to just let her walk away after all the shit she's pulled."

Melinda looked up at him, her face contorted with fear. He didn’t seem to care though, but what he did was tell you to leave, and that he'll take care of things.

So, you did, but not before grabbing your bag, and not before snagged out those car keys of hers. The odd thing you did notice though, while leaving the store, was how the entire floor seemed wet. It wasn't until about an hour of just simply waiting in the dark that you figured why.

And you realized as you saw the sudden rise of flames, the smoke billowing from the open door, that you indeed did not have that help from that mystery man after all.

Your car will remain broken.

So, I wrote this long piece of work because I went searching and found ABSOLUTELY NOTHING (which honestly it’s a crime given how fine he was in this movie — at least people realized it with Mike lmfao) so I wrote what I wanted to read.

I hope that this becomes a Rhys Montrose type of situation (For those who don’t know what I mean, this character Rhys from Season 4 of the show, You, had no fanfics on here and I basically jumpstarted it by writing like 4 of them lol) because I feel this character and movie deserves more hype and attention. Just look up edits of Billy from the movie and you’ll see what I mean.

Anyways if you’re actually still reading, thank you for coming to my ted talk. Hopefully you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🫶✨

(Also, if you see any more fics of this man… pls tag me. I’m desperate lmfao)

[luffyvace]

Undertaker wants to Court you! ~(Headcanons)~

Can’t wait for the public school arc who’s with me?!

this dude is so silly 🗿 enjoy some hcs of this ridiculous little man

Undertaker is funny. He uses that to his advantage when courting. Well, it actually depends on what type of humor you have- most of his are usually those jokes that are kinda funny but at the same time your like ‘That’s outta pocket! 🤦‍♀️😑😂’ yk?

he always wants to hear jokes. He asks you randomly and no matter what type he laughs at them. Rude humor? Hilarious! Dad jokes? That one really tickled his fancy! 😂 why did the chicken cross the road?? To get to the other side? 🤣🤣💥

now usually I feel he has a specific sense of humor but with you everything’s just kinda funny. It’s that moment when your with someone who you can laugh at the most unfunniest stuff ever and still be cackling at it anyway 😭💕

he’s always telling them as well. Might I say, at the worst times 😏 you just watched someone run over a stray animal? Oh he’s got a joke for that hear him out- LIKE BRO 😭⁉️

HES THE TYPE OF GUY WHO MAKE YOU LAUGH BEFORE EVEN TELLING YOU THE JOKE BECAUSE YOU KNOW ITS GONNA BE STUPID 👍

Let’s also talk about hiiiis…! weird side! (I’m saying ‘side’ like he’s isn’t always weird..) This is pretty much him just being a creep? Ish? Like that scene where he was in the barrel licking salt…🤨 or how he’s always in coffins (which tbh seems more normal for a grim reaper but still..) either way this dudes’ real weird and he doesn’t tone it down, even around you despite the fact that it may or may not (you decide) push you away

He’s a very mysterious dude, so how ever you met him I guarantee it was eerie and somewhat strange. Therefore you were likely intrigued by him, so when you went on your first date it was, well, very interesting! There’s so many layers to unravel with this guy! Ngl even now you’ve only semi unraveled this incomprehensible man but at the least you do learn more as you get to know him :P

his past is….complicated is an understatement- gimme a new word.

literally no one but him knows his full past all the way up to this very day. Looks like no one has stuck around long enough! Since you will I guess you’ll be the first to figure it out! ;)

now I’ll say this, he won’t sit down and just tell you everything, no. That won’t be any fun! 😄 you’ll have to have the intelligent to sit down and decode it piece by piece with the tidbits of information he gives you randomly. Yes! It’s going to be comical seeing you try and put this whole thing-a-ba-jig together! (^_−)−☆ 🤣

his nonjudgmental yet opinionated personality is scary if you don’t like folk who come off too strong. Or if your sensitive- 😄 he’s a ‘tell-it-like-it-is-and-I-don’t-give-a-ship’ type of guy. Buuuut! If your similar to him in that sense you’ll probably understand him a lot more. Him being nonjudgemental is perfect for peeps of all types so that’s a plus!! 💗

ranting about his fascination with humans during your dates comes with the package! ☝️He just does, it’s always one of his topics, and ngl it’s nothing boring either, he’s got quite a few stories to tell with even more jokes in between, which is sure to make for a lovely date <3 plus at some point all species in black butler experienced being a human, and idk about y���all but the study of human nature, psychology and how the brain works is a very interesting thing for me! I’d definitely be able to keep a conversation like that up for some time, me personally.

He puts up a front of a funny weird guy when there’s more to him if you read between the lines. Which, don’t get me wrong that certainly is a part of the real him, he just makes sure to highlight it so you don’t look at the rest 😃👌

he’s a real creepy fellow..even towards you 😭 (on purpose) and whether he’s trying to court you or not there’s no escaping it- if it starts to push you away he’ll find a way to incorporate laughter into it to make it more appealing, but no, he won’t change his ways 😭

WHY DOESN’T HE WASH HIS HAIRRRR

(yes it’s canon 😞)

you force him to wash his hair 😘💋 pls he needs it. or at least do it with him so it’s more fun. It’ll probably be easier to convince him that way

Time to talk about his work as a grim reaper!!! :3 (retired anyway) if you are reaper you get to follow each other around doing tasks! human? You both go your separate ways to work, whatever that may be. A demon? The same as a human really! Just this time you might have a contract with somebody. Buttttt!! A perk of all three is getting to work in the funeral parlor with him ;3 it’s a good disguise if your a demon/reaper and also some good quality time for you and your reaper 😘 (i mean, I hope you don’t mind morbid stuff cuz he’s a mortician after all 😅)

his little Russian roulette with the phantomhives 🕺 (LOL) no seriously I have no clue what type of relationship he has with them besides the fact that he serves them for the price of top notch laughter 🧑‍🍳💋 but you might! I’d say he’s more willing to let you in then anyone if he’s trying to court you! That obviously means he wants to trust you with his heart! So yeah! You likely know a thing or two—more about Ciel than Vincent but any info will do at this point 😭 it’s a start right? 🤷‍♀️

whenever Ciel comes over you get to witness him or Sebastian try to make undertaker laugh, it’s not like they can kick you out, you work there! Perks 😏 You can pretty much tell the one time Ciel made him laugh himself it was just a whole bunch of tomfoolery 😂 (why did it take so long⁉️😭) Sebastian is also able to make undertaker laugh really hard immediately so I wonder what he does 🤪 guess you’ll get to see! 😋

undertaker opening up to you is a process that requires patience. And don’t be pushy!! I mean this for your sake, by the way. You’ll drive yourself crazy since you’ll never get an answer that’s not riddles or straight up jokes. 🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️

yeah overall his way of courting is really strange but when it comes to making things official he’s poetically blunt. The type of blunt where you have to process for a second like ‘wait what does that mean- oh. OH-’

Anyway I’m gonna talk about the actual dates now cuz I’ve pretty much just been mentioning the madness that comes with it this entire time :3 and yes as I said that’s a way of courting to him. He’s weird and blunt but doesn’t wanna do things the traditional way. So getting you involved in his antics is his way of saying ‘hey i like ya and I want ya to stick around’. And jokes. HAHAHAH 😂

dates with undertaker normally consists of tea, jokes, human psychology and gossip 🗿 ever since I saw ciel in wonderland I couldn’t get over the fact that undertaker was at a tea party and now I headcanons him to like tea LOLOLOL! I mean I know that’s how the plot goes in the actual slice movie and he was just playing the role of the character but, think about it—don’t it kinda fit???? Like?? Okok Hear me out hear me out- imagine sipping on some tea with Undertaker and gossiping on the latest drama from the underworld, ‘I heard a rare case is happening where blah blah blah *giggle* *giggle* chatter chatter..’ ETC! like idk how to explain it but do you see the vision???

I can also see him doing that dramatic anime thing where they sip they’re drink majestically then say something intelligent sounding (☝️🤓) (about psychology, for him) as the wind blows 😂😂 YK? LOLL even worse if your in a outside background and his eyes shows (cuz the character who never shows they’re eyes always show them when they get serious 🤣)

i love how shameless this guy is

why don’t we know this guys’ real name⁉️ Can’t even give him a nickname because ‘undertaker’ isn’t nickname material!! What am I supposed to call him???? Taker’ ⁉️😭🗿

ENJOY @doudouma HERE’S YOUR SURPRISE~ 🤗

[adaptacy]

Hear me out-

Johnny with a very stoic, silent reader who is actually really really deadly if that makes sense?? Maybe they met while she was sitting at a bar and ended up getting into a fight with some guy who was bothering Sissy or something, OOH maybe she’s a bouncer, love me a woman who can fight ngl 💕💕 (and very psychotic men but that’s not important-

OOO okay!! honestly i was expecting johnny to be the strong silent stoic type i was so surprised when i played the game and he was a chatterbox douchebag who cant stop talking shit

so i think a stoic type partner could be fun >:)

He and sissy didn't go out very often-- Well, at least not together. Once sissy moved back into the Sawyer house, she remained there most of the time while Johnny was the one to go out and have all the fun.

But, whenever he was absolutely exhausted of her constant nagging him to take her out, he'd let her ride along to a bar while he scouted. He'd immediately regret it as she loudly sang along to the radio, off-tune without a care in the world.

She'd had a lot more experience in the outside world than him, so while she remained at home a lot, she didn't lack social skills. Sissy loved chatting up guys at the bars, and sometimes, once in a blue moon, they'd each bring back someone to the house.

This day was no different. Johnny wasn't having any luck finding girls he deemed interesting, so he excused himself to go to the bathroom as Sissy drank his wallet empty and chatted a couple of guys ears off.

While he was in the bathroom, washing his hands, he heard some kind of commotion outside, and he frowned, assuming that sissy had made some awful mistake that would get them banned from yet another bar. there was a reason why he hated letting her come along.

Yet, when he returned to the bar, sissy being problematic was not what he saw. Instead, it was a woman he'd seen before, but wasn't familiar with. He'd seen her around this very bar a few times, but hadn't ever paid much attention to her. she always had an expression that made her seem busy.

Sissy was sitting in a different bar stool than when he'd left, and she seemed almost startled, but an eerie grin spread over her face as she watched this woman beat the absolute shit out of a guy that Johnny remembered had been talking to her before he'd gone off to the bathroom.

The guy was draped over the bar, and the mystery woman slammed her fist into his face one more time, earning a groggy, blood-strained gurgle from the man before she grabbed him by his collar and dragged him out of the bar.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, johnny was still a little concerned for Sissy, seeing as how it seemed something had gone terribly awry.

"What the hell happened?" he'd ask, visually checking over the brunette for scratches or bruises or anything, and she'd drunkenly explained that he'd tried to slip something in her drink, even a little too loudly joking about how he was using their own tricks against them.

"Did you drink it?" no, of course she didn't. she didn't have the option to. the woman, who Sissy identified as a bouncer, had stepped in almost immediately and taught the guy a lesson.

Well, Johnny couldn't let that go unseen. So, he left Sissy again, this time to go outside and try his shot at getting to know more about this bouncer. He thanked you, and all you gave him back was a nod. it was your job, after all. why the hell else would you be here?

he'd try to ask more questions, like how you'd noticed, or how long you'd worked here, and you gave him short, one or two word answers, which he found both frustrating and intriguing.

rest assured, he made sure to regular that bar frequently, and would consistently try to get to know you.

Also, he would not try and pull girls from that bar again. not after he saw what you did to that one guy. Johnny wasn't necessarily intimidated, but...

well, if he got kicked out of the bar, he wouldn't get a chance to see you again, and that didn't sound like much fun.

[lilygoofywritingcave]

Fright night!

Horror movie night with V, what could go wrong?

It started with a casual text from Angel in SlaughterHouse: <@Angelic>: Gonna see that new rom-com tonight with Misaki. Looks dumb but kinda cute tho <3 <@hitmeuppp>: if it’s bad we can at least laugh at it lmao <@Angelic>: Exactly. You smiled at your phone. It wasn’t surprising, Misaki always enjoy making fun of corny, sappy movies, and Angel, despite being known for her sharp wit and playful nature, couldn't resist a good love story, no matter how over-the-top it was. It gave you an idea. <@Y/N>: Sounds fun. Maybe I’ll do a movie night too. <@Angelic>: With V? *Gosh Angel knew you so well. * <@Y/N>: Yeah, maybe... He likes movies, right? <@hitmeuppp>: he seems like the documentary type ngl <@Angelic>: Or old classics. Maybe he’ll let you pick something ? There was definitely hesitation, Valentin was always the responsible one, the guy with refined taste and careful choices. He’d probably suggest something deep and thought-provoking like “Schindler's list” or “Inception”, and your mind will actually explode trying to process them. And honestly? You just wanted to cuddle up and watch something silly or entertaining. So you took a chance. <@Y/N>: @K9 , movie night? My pick this time please? A minute later, he responded: <@K9>: Alright, I trust your choice. You grinned, this will be great. You’ll pick something light, maybe a bit thrilling but not too intense. A fun, cozy night together. And then, of course, Ronin just had to show up. <@goreboy>: oH? a movie Night? <@Y/N>: …Yes? <@goreboy>: what kinda movie we talkin’ here? <@Y/N>: Something fun I guess? <@goreboy>: “fun” as in roMance thE lovey-doveY thing oR “fun” as In The Texas ChainsAw MassacRe? You froze, that was not the direction you wanted this to go. <@Y/N>: The first one, I still want to keep my soul intact. <@goreboy>: booorIng. lucKy for you, i Got the perFect pick. A second later, he dropped a movie title. You shivered at the name before quickly looking it up. You aren’t taking any chances. Your stomach dropped as the search results screamed "most terrifying horror experience of the decade", "psychological terror that will leave you paranoid for weeks", and "viewers reported sleeping with the lights on for a month." No, absolutely not. <@Y/N>: NO. <@goreboy>: YES!!! <@hitmeuppp>: LMAO. Good luck with that. <@Angelic>:  I think it’s a great choice. <@Y/N>: WHY ARE YALL LIKE THIS.

Just then, Ronin sent you a DM: <@goreboy>: looK, darlin’. if Ya watch a hoRror movIe with V, he’ll havE no choice buT to hold yOu close When you get sCared, Trust me on tHis. You frowned at your screen, blushing at the suggestion. <@Y/N>: …Go away. <@goreboy>:  have fun~ At this point, you should have just refused and go with your original plan. But when you brought it up to Valentin, he just smiled slightly and said: "I don’t mind. It’ll be interesting to see how you handle it." Oh, it was a trap, and you fell right into it… Sitting on Valentin’s couch, you were deeply regretting every life decisions. The movie wasn’t just scary, it was pure nightmare fuel. The kind of horror that didn’t rely on cheap jumpscares but on pure, psychological terror. It crept under your skin and spine, got into your head, made every shadows in the room feel a little too dark, a little too human... And to make it even worse? You were watching it with V, who was completely unfazed. "You’re awfully quiet." he commented, glancing at you as another disturbing scene played out. You swallowed hard: "I’m fine, don’t worry about it." Valentin’s gaze turned to your grip on the couch as if you could tear it off. He smirked but said nothing. The movie continued, and it only grew worse. The kind of eerie silence that made you tense, knowing something horrible was coming behind you. And then… The most gut-wrenching, horrific jumpscare of the entire film hit. You screamed, instinctively grabbing Valentin’s arm and clinging for your dear life. Your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might explode at any moment. "Well that was a strong reaction." He said, amused. "I hate this…" you whimpered. "You chose to watch it." "Ronin chose it!" He raised an eyebrow: "And you still listened?" You groaned: "I make bad choices, okay?" After a minute or two, Valentin exhaled, a hint of concern: "You feeling better now?" You laid still, burying  your face in his shoulder: "Why did I listen to Ronin?" "That’s a question you should ask yourself more often," he smiled. As another terrifying scene starts playing. You squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to look at the screen. Valentin shifted beside you, adjusting so you were tucked against him more comfortably. "You know," he spoke up, his voice as casual as if you weren’t on the verge of passing out, "you could stop watching. Would that be better?" "And leave myself alone in the dark? Absolutely not. Besides, if I stop now, I’ll just imagine worse things."

"Reasonable.”.

…

By the time the credits finally rolled, you felt like you had aged ten years. "Well," Valentin said, stretching. "That was quite the experience." You turned to him, questioning your own ears: "Fun?" He smiled softly: "You survived, didn’t you?" "Barely." Just then, a notification popped up in the group chat. <@Angelic>: How’s the movie night going? <@Y/N>: I think I lost ten years of my life. <@hitmeuppp>: lmao, weak <@Angelic>: Misaki, you literally screamed during the rom-com just because the guy showed up out of nowhere to surprise her. <@hitmeuppp>: jumpscares ARE jumpscares You grinned, shaking your head. At least you weren’t the only one who suffered tonight.

You dropped your head against Valentin’s shoulder, desperately in need of a sweet treatment: "I need something happy. Or candy. Or both." Valentin thought for a few seconds before standing up:"Come on, then." You blinked, surprised that worked: "Huh?" He grabbed his jacket: "Late-night snack run. You’ve earned it." You stared at him, then sighed in relief, getting up to follow. Maybe tonight wasn’t a complete disaster…

[aihoshiino]

chapter 150 thoughts!

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 7…. ttttttechnically? they don't actually mention that the kiss happened, so i'm counting it…

ladies, gentlemen and those who know better, our long national nightmare is finally over

after… literally I've lost count of how long it's been since we had some proper Aqua introspection, our landmark chapter 150 is almost entirely dedicated to putting us back in Aqua's head (quite literally!) and sort of catching up with him. Some things about Aqua that have been mostly only communicated through showing over telling are explicitly told in text and i'm ngl, there's one or two things where seeing textual confirmation of them got me barking like a fucking dog. Overall, while the pacing of the start of this arc has been bit clunky and this chapter itself isn't free of that either, it actually feels like things are moving and meaningful characterization is happening which after the Movie Arc is a bit of a luxury lol.

As usual, I want to gush about Mengo's art before I touch on anything else. Setting the majority of this chapter in a dream sequence allowed her to do some incredibly fun things with the staging and imagery here. Aqua in that eerie void with his feet drenched in blood… Aqua and Gorou still stuck in that hallway where Ai died, while Ruby has managed to take steps to leave… It's so fucking good.

There were some absolutely top tier Kanas this chapter, too… her little baby tantrum in flashback and that gorgeous final page of her… But I'm getting ahead of myself.

While I described this chapter up top as being communicating things about Aqua, it very much feels to me like it's also serving as closure for Gorou, both in the sense of him as a person and resolving the posthumous arc that he's been going on as part of Aqua. This chapter at last draws a clear and explicit distinction between the two, that Aqua is no longer Gorou, even if he might have been built on the foundation of his identity. Gorou is even described as a 'role' that Aqua has been compelled to play that Gorou himself is now urging him to step down from - he is offering to relinquish Aqua's future back to him… if that's what Aqua wants.

This was how I'd initially read the relationship back in my 143 review - that 'Aqua Hoshino' created from Gorou, his core values and driving ideals, but 18+ years of living a whole new life in a whole new social role, meeting people and having experiences Gorou would never have and literally having a different body and brain in the process have made him different and the sum total of those differences is the person we call Aqua Hoshino. This chapter seems to lean into this interpretation, casting them as a pair of briefly intersecting lines that once crossed but have now diverged onto their own paths.

I also just really liked the dynamic that they were shown to have this chapter. Whenever we've seen this conflict externalized in the past, Gorou has always been this frightening, overwhelming presence whose existence actively prevents Aqua from having any kind of happiness or peace. Here, though, they have a much less adversarial energy, which is a really nice reflection of Aqua being able to gradually start pulling himself out of the shit he's been stuck in. Gorou almost feels fatherly or big brotherly here, not just in how he behaves in regards to Sarina-as-Ruby, but for Aqua, too.

But……….. okay, I'll stop dodging around the elephant in the room now lol

After over 25 chapters of very deliberately avoiding putting us in his headspace, 150 finally puts the ball in Aqua's court vis-a-vis the AquRuby tension and he answers in a way I think would be pretty hard to walk back: That Ruby is his precious sister and that's it. That her feelings for him are the result of her projecting Gorou onto him, chasing a ghost that is fading from this world and that she does not actually love him. Whoof.

This was another thing where seeing it in text felt pretty great. I'd caught pretty early on that there was a weird divide in the way the story was handling the AquRuby dynamic - namely, that there wasn't an AquRuby dynamic and all the supposed ship development of it was largely happening in retrospect, beefing up the intensity of the GRSR relationship and having Ruby express her feelings to Gorou-through-Aqua. When the idea of Aqua and Ruby romance was floated, by contrast, it was always treated like a gag. With the Movie arc being as much of a mess as it was, it was hard to work out what the intentionality of that was (if there was any to begin with) but this seems to make it about as clear as it can be: neither Gorou or Aqua have any had any feelings of that sort of Sarina-through-Ruby and neither of them want to pursue romance with them.

Once again tapping into my powers of Claire-voyance, I already know a lot of people are trying to insist that this is Aqua lying to himself or 'settling' and that he does secretly want a relationship with Ruby for reals! but that really isn't how it comes across to me in the art. He's calm, speaks straightforwardly and without hesitation and makes his point pretty clear. We know how it looks when OnK character lie to themselves and this isn't really it. It would also just be strange for that to be the case when this is a scene about Aqua starting to consider the idea of moving past the things that hurt him and live out his future with someone.

And who that someone is… seems to be coming into focus, but I don't think we'll be getting there quite yet.

I will say that for as much as I liked this as a chapter and as a goodbye for Gorou… it kind of doesn't really make a lot of sense as a resolution for his guilt lol. This chapter frames things in such a way that centers his guilt on Sarina and that seeing her live her life as Ruby has given him some catharsis over it. This is a sweet idea but… that's, uh, not how this was framed anytime prior! When we've seen Gorou intrude on Aqua's happiness before, his self hate and his guilt all center on Ai's death and his inability to save her. The last time we saw him in this capacity in 95, that's what he was saying with his whole chest: that he deserves to suffer as punishment for Ai's suffering, Ai's death. I'm sure that knowing Sarina is living on as Ruby was very cathartic but… it has nothing to do with Ai! Why is this being framed as narratively resolved in this way?

Like… if I chew on it a bit, I can make it make sense: since chapter 1, Gorou has been pretty open about projecting Sarina onto Ai, processing his grief that way and imagining her living vicariously through Ai's success. The idea of Ruby doing the same by continuing Ai's legacy and keeping her radiance alive being the thing that gives him release over Ai's death is interesting and I can understand it emotionally, it just feels like a weird unexplained leap for the narrative to make. I was talking to a friend about it, trying to work it out by externalizing it, and they theorized that this was always the intended endpoint of Gorou's posthumous arc but that the story had drifted in the middle section and Akasaka hadn't quite realigned them. This makes a lot of sense to me and I wouldn't be surprised if it was the case.

I will say that it really bugs me. I've already talked about the ways Ai's importance to the twins as their mother has been gradually downplayed and diluted as the Movie Arc has gone on. In my original post, I attributed this to Akasaka trying to amp up the intensity of the GRSR -> AQRB relationship in a soap opera-y sort of way, but given that this chapter seems to shut down AquRuby, I don't really know if that's the case. In general, Ai has been treated as sort of narratively 'resolved' as of 137, as if that chapter was the capstone to her posthumous character arc and while that might be the case for Ruby… I really don't think it is for Aqua!

It's possible that this is intentional. Aqua still has a shitton of work to do on unfucking his relationship with Ai and the ways his view of her, as implied by the Movie Arc, is warped by his grief. I could see this final stretch of the story being primarily about that - after all, this chapter is about confronting Aqua with the binary choice of revenge or love. In a lot of ways, this has always been what he's struggling with but putting the ball this firmly in his court establishes Ai's death entirely as his own trauma that he has to work through on his own. After all, Aqua might have confronted Gorou in this chapter, but there's a certain someone we also saw in chapter 95 that Aqua hasn't dealt with yet…

I'm talking about Kana, obviously! (ducks thrown tomatoes)

I don't have a ton to say about the AQKN romance setup in this chapter other than… yeah, I kinda saw this coming! It's interesting to see Gorou, the representation of Aqua's guilt and self destruction, be the one to so directly confront him and push him towards trying to find some happiness with her. Aqua quietly noting that he knows the things he likes about Kana and he knows that moving on with her makes a lot of sense - but what makes this especially interesting is the way it mirrors Kana's own reflection on her relationship with Aqua at the end of the chapter.

I like that a lot of the AQKN moments the two reflect on are just… mundane, everyday instances of the two of them stumbling through life together. I've seen a lot of people say AQKN is 'boring' or 'flat' because it lacks the drama of AQAK or AQRB but honestly, I feel like this is what makes it work (when it does work) - their relationship, whatever form it takes, is a safe and quiet space where they can just exist outside the drama and transactional utility of so many of their other relationships.

That said, while those montages mirror each other, what makes them interesting is their divergence point. Kana decides to commit to choosing 'love', with that absolutely gorgeous full page panel, but Gorou hands the knife - the symbol of the violence that blighted Aqua's life - back to him and makes it clear that love or revenge, the choice is now entirely in Aqua's hands. We don't see what he chooses, but… if Oshi no Ko really is a story with a happy ending, I think it's a foregone conclusion. And that makes me really happy.

Not that it's happening anytime soon, lol. I'll be very shocked if Kana's confession doesn't result in a rejection from Aqua, at least at this point in time - there's too much else going on in the story for this to be the right place for Aqua to commit to Kana. She's still an idol, after all and Kamiki is still around. The bets I'm placing right now are that AQKN are going to get their resolution, whatever form it takes, at the Dome concert during or after Kana's graduation.

As for their date… Call me cynical, but I also don't see it going particularly well. After all…

Aren't we forgetting somebody?

[salamispots]

I woke up at 3:45 am with shrine music in my brain so I'm gonna yell a little about totk spoilers below fhhhhh mostly about game things no real plot stuff haha

the intRO :'D that mononoke touch ahhhhh idk why but specifically the scene/shot of link's hearts going down from the wiggly worm demon smoke thing is stuck in my brain/makes me feel emotional

also the whole 'I was gone for a bit and the world looks different but sort of the same/everyone moved on' made me feel a little like the evangelion movie when shinji wakes up and he's still the same gives me feeLINGS not necessarily bad; maybe a little bittersweet? idk

I keep giggling at how GOOFY some of the weapons look when they're fused and the names (like...thick stick stick or something LMAO)

the glee of using a rocket for the first time also I'm building the most basic shit hahah I'm not particularly good/creative at stuff like this

ahhhh I loved how there's still those big stone talus in the game and the first one I come across is disguised as a base for bokoblin

the instantaneous fuck off panic of running into those red arm/hands and panicking because you run out of stamina while running away hahah

speaking of tHE MUSIC OH MY GOD I love the shrine music so much? and the first time when you go to the depths when you're falling the tone shift is so eerie

exploring too far into an area where you're too underleveled and getting one hit killed by something haha

when you leave the sky islands for the first time I was hanging out at the very top and was like...surely they're not saying just to jump off? I thought you were supposed to build something to get down but I sorta just fell off for the heck of it and I was extremely charmed by the fact that they said yes you can jump off and just dive into some random body of water from miles above in the sky and again I love the music for that/when you're first introduced to the sky islands

sky islands fun but it's nice being on the ground hahahfg/having a glider now and not constantly breaking into a sweat at hEIGHTS haha like....I went to the top of the temple and crawled all the way around to the other side of the locked doors lmao but the amount of times I slipped and fell of those tiny ledges

I still love freefalling and using the glider at the last second

running into a tree for the first time HAHA and the ominous tiptoeing after you

also yeah controls feel better now/just had to play more but I still definitely keep pressing the wrong buttons for things

I think once I got off the sky islands and to the ground that was kinda when I got fully invested? like again before actually buying the game and playing it I was kinda like ehhh I'll probably play it some point

also the game reigniting my need for link zelda ganon ot3 content :'D

the fondness of having character designs be 3/4 torso ahahha

PURAH I love her ouTFIT

the little detail of chasing fish and the fish trying to escape actually beached themselves on the shore??

LINK HUMMING WHILE COOKING I've only recognized one song so far (saw someone on reddit say they also heard song of storms and it clicked in my brain so now two haha)

oh! I love the amount of nooks and crannies to explore! like all the wells and caves >:0

ngl didn't end up finishing botw (I absolutely did look up the ending before I played totk HAHA >:'D ) because I ended up exploring the majority of the map/got bored after that and I didn't particularly like how the map felt empty/the same after a while? idk if the same thing will pop up again for me in totk but I do like how there's some new enemies and it feels more lively so far? we'll see

ALSO LMAO fighting bokoblins with a moblin and the moblin just straight picking up a bokoblin and throwing it at me??

[avdxl]

The Smell of a New Beginning (Why is it so familiar?)

AN: I'm super excited for the next chapter ngl. I tried to do too much with this part, might rewrite it, but hopefully it's still coherent for everyone.

Summary: A glimpse of Y/N's new life with Kou

Pairing: Idk yet

The Smell of a New Beginning (Why is it so familiar?)

The salty breeze stung Y/N’s face as she gripped the railing of the ship, her small hands barely wrapping around the smooth wood. The ocean stretched endlessly in every direction, its waves rising and falling like a living, breathing thing.

She had never been this far from land before. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating.

Kou stood at the helm, one hand on the wheel and the other tucked casually into his coat pocket. His coat billowed in the wind, revealing a sheathed blade at his hip. He looked completely at ease, like the sea itself was an old friend.

He teased her over the wind, “still got that look like you’re gonna puke. You seasick already kid?”

Y/N scowled, forcing herself to stand taller. “No.”

Kou chuckled. “Good. Would’ve been a shame if I had to throw you overboard already.”

Her eyes widened in alarm, and he laughed louder. “Relax. You’ll get used to it. First time’s always rough.”

She turned her gaze back to the ocean, watching the waves swirl beneath them. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere,” Kou said simply. “Everywhere.”

She frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“To you, maybe.” He grinned. “I’m not like others you might meet on the sea. I don’t care about treasure or ruling the seas. I go where the wind takes me, chasing adventure. Meeting people, finding stories—there’s a whole world out there, kid.”

Y/N tilted her head. “So… you’re not a pirate?”

He scratched his chin, thinking. “Eh. Used to be. Not really my thing anymore.”

She hesitated. “Do you have a crew?”

Kou smirked. “Do you see a crew?”

She looked around. The ship wasn’t big, maybe a little larger than a standard sloop, but it was well-kept. The deck was clean, the sails in good condition, and a single black flag���without any skull or insignia—flapped at the mast. There wasn’t a soul on board besides them.

“…No.”

“Then there’s your answer,” he said.

Her brows furrowed. “So you travel the world alone?”

“Not always.” He leaned against the railing beside her. “Sometimes I pick up strays. People looking for something. When they find it, they move on.”

Y/N looked up at him. “And what about you?”

Kou glanced toward the horizon, his expression unreadable. “Me?” He shrugged. “I haven’t found my reason to stop yet.”

The words sat heavy in the air. Y/N didn’t know why, but something about them stuck with her.

After a moment, Kou pushed off the railing and stretched. “Alright, kid. First rule of being on my ship—pull your weight. No freeloaders.”

She crossed her arms. “What do you want me to do?”

He grinned. “Ever clean a deck before?”

Her face fell.

Kou laughed. “Don’t look so miserable. You want to get stronger? Strength starts with discipline. Besides, you’ll be learning a whole lot more than scrubbing floors.”

Y/N pursed her lips. She wanted to argue, but she had no other options. This ship was her ride towards achieving her goal.

With this in mind she accepted her fate and sighed. “Fine.”

Kou ruffled her hair, much to her annoyance. “Good attitude. Welcome to life at sea, kid.”

As she grabbed a mop and bucket, she couldn’t help but glance back at the endless horizon.

She was finally going somewhere.

After a couple months on the open water, being trained and learning everything Kou had to offer he decided that she was finally ready to face a new challenge and steered the ship towards her next lesson.

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

The thick canopy overhead barely let any sunlight through, casting the jungle in a dim, eerie green. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something… primal. Something that set Y/N’s nerves on edge. She crouched low, her bare feet silent against the mossy ground, eyes darting between the tangled roots and towering trees. Her small hands clutched a wooden staff—one of Kou’s many training tools—though she doubted it would do much against the creatures lurking in the undergrowth.

A rustle.

A low growl.

Y/N swallowed hard. “Uh… Kou?”

A few feet ahead, Kou stood with his arms crossed, his knife glinting at his side. His expression was unreadable, but she knew that look—he was assessing their surroundings.

“Yeah?” he responded lazily.

“I think something’s watching us.”

“Of course something’s watching us,” he said, smirking. “You think a jungle like this is empty?”

Y/N’s grip on her staff tightened. “Great. Love that.”

Kou let out a small chuckle before stepping forward. His foot barely made a sound—he was always annoyingly good at moving silently. She was still working on that.

Another growl, this time closer.

Then, in a blur of movement, the underbrush exploded.

A beast—no, a monster—leaped from the shadows. Its massive feline body was covered in jet-black fur, its yellow eyes gleaming with hunger. Clawed paws slammed against the ground, its mouth parting to reveal rows of sharp, gleaming teeth.

Y/N barely had time to react before Kou moved.

In one swift motion, he grabbed her by the back of her shirt and yanked her out of the way. The creature lunged where she had just stood, claws raking deep into the earth.

She stumbled, caught herself, and spun to face it. “What the hell is that?!”

Kou cracked his knuckles. “Lunch.”

The beast roared.

Kou grinned.

And just like that, he disappeared.

No—not disappear. He was too fast.

Before Y/N could fully process it, he reappeared behind the creature, knife flashing in his hand. A single slash cut across the beast’s side, black fur splitting as blood sprayed into the air.

The jungle fell silent for half a second.

Then the creature howled in pain.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she watched. Kou wasn’t even using Haki yet. He was playing around with it.

The beast whipped around, its claws aiming straight for him.

Y/N reacted before she could think—her hands moved, and vines shot from the ground, wrapping around the creature’s legs. It stumbled, its massive body crashing into the dirt.

Kou glanced at her and smirked. “Nice one, kid.”

Y/N panted, her grip on the staff still tight. “Less talking, more stabbing!”

Kou laughed, spinning his knife between his fingers. “Relax.” He stepped toward the struggling beast, his entire arm darkening with Armament Haki.

A single downward slash.

Silence.

The creature collapsed, unmoving.

Kou flicked the blood off his blade and turned to Y/N. “See? Easy.”

She huffed. “I loosened it for you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So, I should let you handle the next one?”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue—then shut it when she heard another growl. Then another.

Slowly, she turned her head.

Dozens of glowing eyes stared back at her from the shadows.

“…Kou?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s more.”

He grinned. “Good. I was getting bored.”

Y/N groaned. “I hate you.”

He patted her head. “No, you don’t. Now, try not to die, kid.”

And amongst the jungle erupting into chaos was the sound of hope.

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

The desert stretched endlessly before them, golden dunes rolling beneath the merciless sun. Y/N’s boots sank into the scorching sand with each step, but she barely noticed. She was focused on the figure ahead of her.

Kou stood near the shore where his small ship bobbed in the water, the gentle waves a stark contrast to the burning wasteland behind them.

“This is where we say goodbye, huh?” Y/N muttered, arms crossed.

Kou gave her a smirk—the same annoying one he always wore when teasing her. “That’s what it looks like.”

Y/N scowled. “Tch. You could at least act sad.”

“I could,” he admitted. “But that wouldn’t change anything.”

She hated that he was right.

For six years, he had been by her side—training her, pushing her to be stronger, protecting her when she needed it (though she would never admit it). He had been the closest thing she had to family. And now, he was leaving.

And she—she was staying behind.

Her fists clenched. “You’re really going to the New World?”

Kou nodded, glancing toward the horizon. “Yeah. There’s a whole world out there, kid. More than just this desert, more than what we’ve seen.”

Y/N swallowed hard. She knew this moment was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier.

She forced her voice to stay even. “I’m going to get stronger. So the next time we meet, I won’t need you watching my back.”

Kou chuckled, but there was something softer in it this time. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Then, his smirk faded, just slightly. He reached for his belt, unfastening the worn leather sheath that had always been at his side.

Y/N blinked as he held it out to her. “Here.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Slowly, she reached out, fingers hesitating before curling around the handle. The weight of it was familiar—too familiar.

“…Why?” Her voice was quieter than she wanted it to be.

Kou shrugged. “Figured you might need it.”

The knife sat heavy in her grip. He had trained her with it, tested her, corrected her stance a hundred times over. This wasn’t just any blade. This was his.

Her grip tightened. “You’re leaving it because I’m strong enough?”

Kou didn’t answer right away. His gaze was steady, unreadable. “I’m leaving it because you will be.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat.

If she wasn’t strong enough yet, why was he still leaving?

She looked at the blade, at the small nicks along the handle from years of use.

why did it feel like he was giving her a piece of himself because he wasn’t sure she’d make it without him?

Why was he leaving her?

She didn’t know what to say.

Kou gave a final glance at the horizon before stepping onto his ship.

“Don’t let it rust,” he called over his shoulder.

Y/N stood there, gripping the knife like it was the only thing keeping her together, as the waves carried him away.

Then, she turned back to the desert.

Her journey wasn’t over.

But she couldn’t shake the thought—was she not enough?

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

Days passed. The sun was cruel, the land barren. Y/N had never felt so alone.

But she couldn’t leave.

This island had been Kou’s last lesson for her—survival, adaptation, perseverance. If she left now, she would be proving that she wasn’t ready. She wouldn’t allow that.

The first days were the hardest. Her Flora-Flora Fruit felt useless in a place like this—there were no forests to command, no vines to shape into weapons.

Then, she found it.

A cactus, standing tall against the heat.

She crouched beside it, pressing her palm against the rough, spiny surface. There was life in it, stubborn and unyielding, unlike the delicate flowers she was used to. It was different, but it was still a plant.

She exhaled, focusing. Slowly, carefully, she willed her power forward.

At first, nothing happened. The cactus resisted her, its structure foreign. But Y/N wasn’t one to give up easily. She studied it, understanding how it clung to survival—its ability to store water, its slow but steady growth.

She mimicked it.

Her fingers dug into the sand, and this time, when she reached out with her power, she didn’t force it. She let it flow, adjusting to the needs of the desert.

The ground trembled.

Tiny green sprouts pushed up through the dry soil, spiny and rough but very much alive.

Y/N grinned. “Gotcha.”

It wasn’t like the roses she could shape with ease—this was something new, something she had to learn from scratch. But as hours passed, she improved, growing patches of cacti, using their ability to store water to her advantage.

She worked tirelessly, her small successes fueling her determination.

After days full of effort, she finally did it.

Her first fully grown cactus stood tall, its thick green body covered in tough spines, roots digging deep to find hidden moisture.

She wasn’t done yet.

More followed—clusters of them sprouting in a ring, shaping a foundation for something greater.

Then came the hardest part.

Water.

She closed her eyes, drawing on everything she had learned. She guided the roots deeper, further than before, chasing the hidden pockets of water beneath the sand.

The air around her felt heavier.

Then, suddenly—

A trickle of water seeped through the cracks in the earth, pooling at the base of her cacti.

Her breath hitched. She had done it.

She had created life in a place seemingly designed to take it away.

She stepped back, surveying her work.

An oasis.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers.

Y/N wiped the sweat from her forehead, exhaling slowly. She glanced toward the horizon, where Kou had disappeared weeks ago.

He would be proud.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

“This isn’t goodbye forever,” she murmured.

She turned back to her oasis, determination burning in her chest. She would continue to grow, to push herself beyond her limits.

Because one day, when she and Kou crossed paths again—

She would be strong enough to stand beside him, not behind him.

[doctorcolubra]

Books, 2024

Hey I have a tumblr I should use it. I'm gonna post about books I'm reading.

My reading habits fell into a dismal slump during the Obama administration and for awhile at its worst, most of the books I read in a year were books I had edited. My wife C, in similar condition, started a reading-challenge minigame with me (Orilium, and yes you bet your bippy I made a stereotypical smug elven princeling character for it) and ngl it kept me going.

The book that got me out of the slump was...

...Edward Said's Orientalism, for which I earned a healing potion. Should have read it a long time ago in university, but I was thoroughly catechised in Western liberalism back then in 2001 and found the back-of-the-cover thesis distasteful. I had to fix my heart. Now my besetting sin in terms of non-reading is scrolling the news, so I've tried to replace that urge with reading nonfiction (which feels easier than fiction for me now, for whatever reason). It's so much better for my brain to read a book about Palestine instead of scrolling helplessly through headlines about Gaza.

But apart from this being an important book, it's just so good you guys. I read a LOT of mediocre academic writing. LOT. Good ones stand out within one paragraph and they're such a pleasure. Said is just personal enough, another thing which is rare, giving enough biographical detail to feel his conviction and authority while still operating very coolly in the argumentative portions, with sardonic moments. I had read very few of the authors he cites and I didn't mind at all, but I will be checking out some of them in future to see more fully how all the pieces fit together.

Other favourite book of 2024 is Reza Negarestani's Deleuzian/Lovecraftian theory-fiction Cyclonopedia: Complicity with Anonymous Materials. This is absolutely at the other end of the spectrum from Professor Said's lucidity: the worst, most nightmarish academic writing you can possibly conceive of, something utterly inimical to understanding. To quote Calvin & Hobbes, "an intimidating and impenetrable fog." Fog is indeed part of the ecosystem of metaphors Negarestani creates in pursuit of an argument, which I will try to summarise: oil is sentient, it wants to be used, and it asserts its will through politics and war, as part of its eternal rivalry with the Sun. Its ultimate goal is to eradicate the idolatrously vertical nature of life on the surface of the Earth, through nuclear holocausts and/or climate change to turn the whole planet into a lifeless desert where nothing stands or walks anymore, a Black Dead Sun.

There are frequent digressions about subjects like Zoroastrianism and Persian magic, the humours, Mesopotamian gods, numerology, and occasional video game references. There is fog, moisture, dust, oil, desert, war and warmachines, idols and iconoclasm. There's a wonderful (if misleading) fictional foreword written by Kristen Alvanson (who also designed the wonderfully eerie diagrams)—I thought that this book would be a little more House of Leaves-like with more layers of fiction wrapped around the theory but alas, no, it's just a fun opener before school's in session.

If you know Deleuze well already you'll have an easier time than I did (didn't do much Continental at my school, sadly), but the sheer infuriating quality of the prose is Part of It and about halfway through a switch just flipped in me where I wasn't going to let Reza win. I did some googling about Deleuze and read somewhere that it was an unhelpful impulse to try to control the text by needing to always understand it. I know! But I took this advice and just read it the way I would a difficult poem, just appreciating the qualities I'm able to appreciate right now...because this prose is something, it's so bad when reading it as a beleaguered academic editor but it hits different when viewing the prose as a character, our window into pseudo-author Hamid Parsani. I would have liked to see more contrast and variance between Parsani's voice and Negarestani's own, since they do alternate somewhat, but maybe I would notice some more structure there on a reread.

Despite its frustrating nature, I found this book unforgettable, and the lenses it provides are surprisingly fun and useful once I tried on the goggles. Built a lot of confidence too, finishing it was very satisfying.

Fiction

It was mostly disappointments and rereads in a very scanty list last year so my favourite fiction read of 2024 was Evelyn Waugh's A Handful of Dust. Waugh is as bitchy as you like throughout a very mean story about money, adultery, divorce, the aristocracy, social parasites, and (of course) an English country house. Unlike Brideshead, this one was (oh no!) renovated with no taste in a ghastly neo-Gothic Victorian style, something Waugh is at pains to make you think is unforgivable. Renovating the house is the true primary sin of the main character, Tony, the only semi-sympathetic person in the novel. It's quite short and punchy due to all the nasty people creating compelling conflicts; Waugh's style is lighter here than in Brideshead Revisited, brittle, satirical, cruel. I loved it BUT I gotta warn you that unfortunately, this book is effectively unfinished: Waugh was unsure of how to end it and tagged on a section from a short story to finish it, and it shows. No spoilers but just expect a very light connection between the story and its ending.

Will post more about January books soon!

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay-adjacent Visuals: Jack's Lament

Can you feel me practically vibrating out of my skin???

On one hand, I'm a little sad because this is the last video I'll probably be making a post about for a while (though by the time you see this, Geoff might have uploaded a new video that I can actually talk about the visuals for (EDIT from future me: he did!), and if so, you'll be seeing a post for that one tomorrow), but on the other hand, this is my third (though in no particular order/ranking) favourite Geoff video on his channel so far, and I am so excited to finally be able to make a post for it!

Geoff's cover of Jack's Lament debuted on the 8th of October, 2023, though I didn't see it pop up in my YouTube recommended until the 29th (if you remember from my Hellfire post, I wasn't initially subscribed to Geoff or Voiceplay, and both channels somehow ended up dropping off my radar for a while. Jack's Lament was the first from either channel that I had seen in at least a year, and as soon as I saw that thumbnail, I knew it was going to be amazing, but oh my GOD it was even better (and with me stumbling upon Hellfire the very next day, well let's just say I was pulled even deeper down the Geoff/Voiceplay rabbithole than I had been the first time around 😅).

Anyway, I'm not sure if I'll hit image limit on this one, or how much actual commentary I may have, but regardless, let's freaking go!

One hell of an opening shot, not gonna lie. Geoff's very-skeletal-looking hands playing the piano (in a beautiful way, might I add), immediately sets a very spooky/eerie vibe!

And this is one hell of an establishing shot! I mean goddamn there is a lot to take in here! Though one thing I will point out (that I actually only just noticed myself ^^;) is the Haunted Mansion headstone on the left, memorialising Madame Leota!

(Also shoutout to Pattycake Production Studios where this was filmed!)

I of course have to give a MASSIVE shoutout and kudos to Rick Underwood for the makeup job in this one, like holy christ he really outdid himself here! (and I can't thank him enough)

Ngl, if I don't come up with any other ideas between now and October, then I kinda wanna dress as "Jack Skellington Geoff" (Geoff Caskellington? 🤔), makeup and all (or just attempt the face makeup at least)

And seriously take a look at his hands! If it weren't for the super-high-definition closeup of his hands on the piano at the start, you'd be forgiven for thinking those are just really well-fitting gloves, but nope! An amazing airbrush job from Mr Underwood!

Also, if you look at his neck and chest in both this image and the previous one, you'll notice that he's got airbrushing going on there too, highlighting (or more accurately, shading) his ribs and other bones!

Finally, on the subject of the body paint job, if you've been paying attention to some of my other Geoff posts (and some of my Voiceplay posts), you might notice what's missing...

No necklace, and no rings! Had to remove them for costume/makeup/character purposes, rip. Must have felt a bit weird without them, but all that paint must have felt weird too, so maybe the weird feelings cancelled each other out? 😅

(His acting in this is of course 10/10 👌)

This video is one that I do actually know involved Geoff deliberately colouring his hair to make it grey, and it still looks as lovely as ever!

(Also this picture is a better one to check out the airbrushed detailing on his chest! (if you're gonna leave a couple of shirt buttons undone and your chest exposed, might as well take advantage of it! 😁))

The "moon" in this video is apparently just some big spotlight with a moon cover on it or something? Apparently you can fairly easily find them online or something, and you can in fact see the pole it's attached to underneath in this image here, but you likely wouldn't notice the pole if you weren't looking for it, and the usage of the moon is 100% perfect! (I've seen/heard one or two people wishing the moon was yellow like in the movie, but eh, it probably wouldn't have fitted the overall colour scheme of the video as much)

I had to include the "jumpscare" of course I had to! 😁

Also I can't get any good screencaps of it, but the way Geoff shifts from sombre on "a longing that I've never known," to more theatric/dramatic on "I'm a master of fright, and a demon of light" is so good, and the acting/choreography is absolute chefs kiss

"Bonjour!"

(For those of you not familiar with the original, the line "and I'm know throughout England and France" is part of the original song, but the "bonjour!" bit is not 😆)

A Geoff head not connected to the body! It's happened again! 😂

Also it's cool the way Geoff is quickly jumping/flashing from one point to another, reminds me of his Headless Horseman video

"No animal, nor man, can SCREAM like I can!"

What can I say, it's a very cool effect! Really ups the "oomph" factor of the little belt moment!

Tiny pumpkins/jack-o-lanterns in his eyes!!

"But who here, would ever understand..."

(I'm not even at half the maximum image limit yet, so I'm 100% just throwing in an extra screencap (or two) just because 😁)

Geoff pats the side of his leg to call for Zero the ghost dog, just in in the scene in the movie! (Also shoutout to Kathy, who I believe helped with puppeteering for this bit?)

"...that the pumpkin king, with the skeleton grin,"

(Freaking obsessed with this video, I tell ya!)

"The fame and praise, come year after year, does nothing for these empty tears"

This is the last shot before we see the gramophone logo (a very gorgeous shot btw), but there's a little bit of a bonus bit for those who stick around for the Patron credits!!

It starts to snow! Like at the end of the movie! It's a sign of hope and good things to come! <3

The original song is good for the movie, sure, but Geoff's cover feels like it has so much more depth (in more ways than one!) and emotion! And his vocal range is ugh god absolutely stunning and mindblowing! I cannot get enough, can never get enough!

But anyway, I hope you've been enjoying my Voiceplay/Voiceplay-adjacent posts! If there are any videos I've skipped over that you actually would like me to make a post on, please let me know! (And don't worry, I am planning to do all the 2017-onwards Christmas videos for both channels eventually - maybe as a Christmas In July thing?) I'm typing this on the 22nd of February, and if Voiceplay uploads a video in March that I wanna make a post on (nope), well you reading this will have already seen that post, and if Geoff uploads something in March that I wanna talk about (he did), then you'll see that post tomorrow (you will!). But otherwise, thanks for reading!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Blood Moon

Marc Spector/Moon Knight (Spider-Man Vengeance of Venom) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Angst, Angst, Angst, mentions of child death, mentions of death, descriptions of injuries, some jealousy(?) on Marc's part

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I'm ngl I'm struggling with this one because I'm impatient as hell lmao. But I'm putting Diatrice in the story because it makes for good angst and trauma for our favourite white-clad hero!

Taglist: @badbishsblog

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Pt. 3

He went hunting after he left Avengers Tower. Sure, he took the missions Director Fury sent him on, but he held his rage in check, reserving the brunt of it for Green Goblin, who was still at large.

He completed the short missions from Fury, stopping a Hydra cell, stopping some shitty would-be supervillain from doing something to the unsuspecting populace of New York.

It usually helped him relax a bit, to have something to break the bleak, gray monotony he'd been living in since he lost his little girl.

But right now he was consumed once again with rage, with anger. And a little something else...

Guilt?

Was he feeling guilty? About driving you away and treating you the way he did, not realizing that being happy and peppy might be your own way of coping with the pain and loss of your family's deaths?

Like his was to shut everyone out, lock himself away and hide from society after...

He hated it when he thought too much.

But he hated it even more when he saw the photos attached to your file. The ones of you pulled from the wreckage of your family's car, the images of the vehicle being hauled out of the river, the front end looking like it had been smashed in by a runaway freight train.

The road had been deserted, the weather rainy and grim, visibility low.

They blamed it on some freak accident, that your father must have lost control in the rain, hydroplaned and crashed through the barriers on the bridge, the impact of the river below crushing the front, killing you, your mother, and older brother.

You had been pulled out, some kind of miracle allowing you to have an air pocket to breathe, your tiny body's functions slowing to a crawl as the icy water lowered your body temperature, slowing your heart down and keeping you from panicking too badly to conserve your oxygen you were graced with.

He couldn't imagine how you felt. Being stuck in the back seat, staring at the remains of your parents and brother, crying, reaching, clawing, screaming for them to wake up again, that you were scared and in need of their reassuring comfort.

Only to be greeted with eerie silence as the car sunk, water flooded in, mangled bodies sitting with you.

His heart felt like it was breaking when he'd read further into the child psychiatrist's notes on you.

She said that you couldn't seem to grasp the concept, that you assumed they had gotten hurt and were asleep. Death was completely new and foreign to you, not understanding that you were now alone, possibly to be thrown into the system and forgotten by the law.

You were kept in the hospital for a month.

A psych ward for three.

And then you were put into the arms of strangers.

But you were confused, scared, and angry.

You didn't understand why you couldn't return to the house you were born in, the house you had lived in with your brother and mother and father. The house where you only knew the touch of love.

But...

Children in the system are often targets of abuse.

And you being the special thing that you were--alone and angry, especially once your powers manifested--was no exception.

You fought with other children, would bite and punch adults who got too close to you for too long.

You would run away constantly.

And always you'd be whisked off by a social worker to be placed in the next strange house full of the same blurred faces.

Until you ran away. Again, and again, and again.

You stayed in and out of homes until finally, nobody wanted you. You were thrown into a group home for "troubled" youths.

You still fought. Bare knuckle fist fights that left flecks of blood on your clothes and your hands torn and bloody.

And then you got involved with fight clubs, your strength and size betraying each other, but making the best partnership as you pummeled your larger opponents, winning the prize money and squirreling it away in a hidden alcove in the attic of your group home until you were old enough to get out on your own.

The first night alone, you left your motel room only to be greeted with the sight of an elderly couple on a trip being shaken down for what little money they had left for their vacation.

You refrained from beating the muggers unconscious, instead settling for using their belts to bind their hands together behind their backs, giving the stolen property back, the couple calling you a little angel for saving them

And it was from there that you decided you wanted to be more.

You wanted to be more and some bloody underground boxing champion.

You wanted to be a hero.

A little black-clothed angel who thrived in the night.

And that was what hurt Marc the most.

Despite everything that's happened to you, you still had the goodness left inside of you to care for others, to put yourself in the path of a bullet for a virtual stranger just so they wouldn't get hurt.

There were more.

Hospital reports, incident reports, small news articles that got buried in the margins of the more pressing news of New York and the world around it.

Your psych reports spoke the loudest, from the notes of the psychiatrist that SHIELD had for the various heroes on their payroll.

You still struggled with your family's deaths. You still had nightmares, the guilt of being the only survivor. The pain of knowing that as a child, some of those strangers you fought against did genuinely care about you, but your belligerence and rage and fear chased them away.

You had nightmares of the broken bodies of your family turning around to look at you as you were strapped into the back of the car, the water replaced with blood as they mocked you, blamed you; said things you knew logically they never would have.

You would cover your ears as the blood frozen your body and overtook the small pocket of air you had, until you were drowning in it.

Your dreams weren't unlike his own.

The memory of coming home after receiving a ghastly phone call from home.

The voice of a man, deep and raspy as he taunted him. He could hear his daughter and her babysitter in the background, crying and begging from behind their gags to be let go.

He took off immediately, breaking off his mission report to Fury, the man hot on his heels.

He didn't make it in time.

He found them there, bloody, bullets and signs of torture on them.

The babysitter, Sandra was laid protectively over top of his daughter, Diatrice; in her last moments she tried to use herself as a shield to keep the bullets from killing the little girl.

But it had been in vain.

They were both dead.

The bloody note pinned to the fridge reading:

'Better luck next time. Maybe if you were fast enough, Moon Knight would have been able to save your little girl.

I'll see you again. I'll take everything you have.

-R.'

He went to ground after that. And it was during the Symbiote invasion that he met Peter Parker, AKA Spider-Man, and his aunt May.

"With great power, comes great responsibility."

Ben Parker truly was a wise man.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

He'd found the Goblin, beat him to a bloody pulp and tossed him in a cell.

He wasn't sure why he was so angry and so violent with him. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was just rage he bottled up for too long, coming out as he read your heartbreaking life story like some disturbing drama novel.

He felt a stabbing pain in his chest when he pictured you lying broken, half dead and pinned to that wall by his glider. Every blow he landed, he saw your pained face, your smile, heard your laugh.

After Goblin was finally beaten and unconscious he realized...

He was lonely.

And you were trying to be exuberant and happy because unlike him, you had read his file. You volunteered to be his partner where others toed the line solely because you saw in him a kindred spirit and wanted to help him heal.

And he had pushed you away, dismissing you as childish and foolhardy...

The city hailed him a hero, as with the others (Minus J Jonah and his usual bullshit about superheroes secretly being supervillains.).

But deep inside he knew Goblin would escape again, he always did.

They always do.

And he'd be there to track them down and drag them back to face justice.

Marc shouldered his duffel containing his gear as he headed out of Fury's office, to your room, now happy that his name was no longer blacklisted.

After two weeks of you being laid up, he could finally see you, apologize for being an idiot and insulting you.

That he understood you; probably better than anyone else in SHIELD, anyone else in the world, could understand.

He'd made it past Doctor Ross (that woman made him feel scrutinized all the way through in a way that made him uncomfortable.)

Talking with Cap, he realized it was because she really could see through him.

She had x-ray vision. It's what made her such a good doctor.

It shouldn't have made him feel uncomfortable as it did.

He stood outside your door, as you already had a visitor and he still had to abide by the one visitor at a time policy.

But he felt an uncomfortable and strange feeling twist in his gut when he looked through the window on your door.

You were in there, as was Doctor Stephen Strange.

And he was being really...

...really...

Familiar with you.

He thought maybe it was protectiveness welling up in him, the way his fists clenched as Stephen held your hand, telling you something that made you giggle, a fresh bouquet of otherworldly flowers.

He felt something hot and... and angry pool in his gut when he watched Stephen lean in, giving a sly wink and saying something to you.

You laughed again.

Why was he feeling like this?

You were an adult, you could protect yourself. You didn't need his protection, he reasoned.

You didn't...

Stephen kissed your knuckles and he noticed the blush creep in your cheeks.

It was a straw that broke the camel's back.

He opened the door and walked in, jaw set tight.

Your blushing and shy demeanor instantly changed when you spotted him; face no longer flushed as your brows furrowed and a frown replaced the smile on your lips.

"Ugh... Stephen, I'll see you later. We can discuss our conversation later." You sigh at him.

"Of course." He smiled at you, giving a soft bow before giving Marc a polite smile and nod as he opened a portal and stepped through, leaving the two of you alone.

"What do you want." You say, your voice dripping with ire.

"I..." He cleared his throat, which felt unusually tight. He felt the heat dissipate once logic began to creep back in.

Why was he so angry just now?

"Er... Hm." He spoke clearer. "I came to... check on you."

"How nice." You say sardonically.

"Okay, okay, I deserve the third-degree..." Marc relented, sighing.

Your brows raised at that, finally taking in his demeanor, his face.

He looked... tired. Moreso than you usually saw him, he lacked his usual cold, stiff-shouldered soldier look.

He looked... normal. Worried.

"But," Marc continued. "Parker came and told me what happened. Fury..." He cringed slightly.

"...Chewed you the fuck out, didn't he?" You couldn't help yourself as a grin crept up onto your face.

"And some." He shrugged sheepishly.

"But... I took it. Because you're only here because of me." He said to you.

You patiently waited, taken aback by his sudden apology. Not once has he apologized to you since you started working with him. Not once.

What happened to him in the few weeks you broke off your partnership?

"Because I was stupid, and... Fury was right. I treated you like a soldier that should fall in order, not realizing or taking into account your feelings on the matter or frankly, anything else about you."

"Marc..."

"...I finally read your file."

Your eyebrows shoot so far up your face you're certain they're now nailed to the ceiling.

Wait. What?

"Marc... you never read my file?" You asked.

"Well, some of it. Just the parts I thought I needed to know. Your powers, experience with SHIELD..." He shrugged.

"But you've never read anything else in it?"

"No..."

You were completely knocked off center. All this time you assumed he knew about your past but still willingly chose to be a dick to you.

But if he didn't know until recently...

"Marc, if you'd just told me--" You felt unreasonable frustration suddenly bubble up within you.

"God, you're so stupid! If you just got your head out of your ass and asked--"

"I know, I know." He said to you, waving his hands in a calming gesture. "But... I didn't. I made a blind assumption which was stupid, I just assumed you were like every hot-headed kid who has delusions of grandeur about being a hero."

He threw his hands up.

"And yes! I was being an asshole, I'm sorry, I just... after I read your file--"

"I read yours too."

He pauses, his arms falling to his sides.

"I know." He says quietly, almost under his breath.

You drop your head back onto your pillow and sigh, the neck brace you were still forced to wear uncomfortable as you tried to recline.

"Marc."

"...Yeah?"

"If you promise to stop being a dick and listen to me..." You start.

"I'll stick around. But the moment you start being a dick to me again--"

He cuts you off. "Deal."

You look at him again, raising your eyebrow skeptically.

"...Deal. I'm still going to be in here a few days." You sigh boredly.

You give him a sly look.

"Unless you feel like--"

"I'm not springing you from the medical ward." He says, scowling at you as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"Ugh. Dick."

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see him make the tiniest hint of a smirk.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Pt. 4: Link

[anotterthatlovestoys]

~ Thrift Haul ~

I went on a thrift "spree" today aka. I spent like $10 at goodwill. and I went to some other stores. But I have a handful of toys i got recently and today to post :3

This group of stuffed animals isnt from today. In fact, they've been sitting in the car for a bit. The two stuffed animals I got today need some quarantined time (especially one of them needs to go in the wash); the snake here, too, needs a wash in particular.

The beaver we got back in Iowa while picking up my sibling, and i actually made them buy it for me lol (it was $1); I mainly wanted it because it is a large stuffed beaver and i thought that was funny. It has a bandana that say "Honey Creek hotel and conference center"; the paper tag says copyright 1988 and the fabric tag says produced 1992. I assume this guys been sitting on a shelf for 30 years rather than having been played with by a child.

The dragon and snake I found at a thrift store in West Virginia. I've simply not seen a snake plush at a thrift store (yes, ever); the dragon seems to be a nicely put together Walmart plush and the snake is Wildrepublic (they manufacture a lot of snake plushes). The snake is a bit dirty on the bottom, but I think a touch of spot cleaning or even a trip through the wash will help.

Now for something completely different: the dolls I found today. I see a fair amount of cheap plastic dolls at thrift stores, but this one spoke to me. Specifically, her oversized dress spoke to me because i immediately thought about how i could steal it for another project. Sorry little lady!

But honestly, she seems very cute. Blinking dolls like this sometimes look kind of eerie but she manages to be very cute, i like all her eyelashes and her thick eyebrows. NGL i would be down to try to put her head on a completely new body someday.

I also found a couple of very different dolls to go with her....

The redhaired one is a FailFix doll, and she came in a bag with a little NaNaNa doll.

The FailFix dolls are these ones who had an extra "ugly" facethat could pop off so they could have a makeover:

Mine doesnt have shoes or earrings and you can tell her previous owner didn't clean up or brush her hair. Perhaps they had a different Failfix doll who they took the accessories and stuff for. Her face paint, despite being the "non fail" version, is still kind of odd and her lips are a bit misprinted. Anyways, what I really like about her is the inset eyes so I'm going to redo the face. i got her partially because shes got both her hands- theyre prone to falling off with dolls like this...

I'm not sure if this NaNaNa is also supposed to be Tuesday Meow- her skin is tanner but her underwear says MeowMeowMeow and her motif seems to be cats. Her face looks oddly small next to my other NaNaNas, and not just because I gave my Tuesday a new face- it seems to be printed smaller? Anyways, i um. might steal her clothes and (very ratty) hair and then use this doll for... doll experiments. Sorry miss meow.

I have no particular aesthetic I seek out for dolls, and I get most of them from the thrift store, so I have a pretty... funny line-up at the moment:

In order: generic plastic doll with winking eyes, talking Dorothy barbie (from my childhood), Rainbow High Gabriella Icely, Failfix "Loves.Glam", NaNaNa Surprise Becky Buccaneer, Bratz Babyz Chloe (from target)

I almost purchased this doll today too:

I don't find Barbies particularly compelling- the only one I have is my childhood Dorothy for a reason. However, this thrift store had a whole shelf of like, late 80s-early 90s style barbies. I liked this one because she has nice articulation at the elbows and knees, plus she's got a cute face. They all had nice soft hair too. I definitely found these more interesting than a lot of the modern barbies I see.

[narrators-journal]

This means nothing

Ngl, this is a pretty mindless little ditty. I just want to get back into practice writing stuff outside of the pure smut. Yanderes, fluff, character exploration, it doesn’t matter, I just want to write funny little stories and explore. Hope you guys enjoy!

Minato Arisato was not very social. He barely had the skills to maintain what little, socially expected bonds he had with his fellow seniors and persona users, let alone grow attached enough to someone for a crush to develop. Which, in the wildcard’s opinion, was a good thing. Minato was too much of a broken man, and his life was too chaotic and dangerous for any form of attachment to the living. He had realized that fact long ago, and he had accepted it. But, life seemed to have a kink for putting a fly into the man’s soup whenever it had a chance.

Ryoji Mochizuki.

Ryoji Mochizuki was that fly in the emo’s soup for his senior year. A tall, friendly transfer student with dark brown hair that he kept swept back out of his hypnotically cerulean blue eyes. Constantly dressed up with suspenders over a snowy white button-up to compliment the black pants from the school uniform, the brunette seemed to know the perfect way to strike a balance between being dressed for his economic bracket, and being approachable and casual. Which, was a look that he accented with his signature sun-colored scarf that the wildcard felt the powerful urge to choke him with whenever he laid eyes on his infectious, goofy smile.

Which, was an urge that most of the girls in Gekkoukan seemed to share with the emo. Because, a new girl seemed to ask the newest boy out every day after school. As if Ryoji was some communal toy to take turns with.

It pissed Minato off.

The way that girls would nearly swarm Ryoji, even during his attempts to chat up Minato, it boiled the man’s blood enough to warm him against the stale chill that hung in the Dark Hour’s air. Every time that the brunette agreed to some date to the movies, the persona-user felt the urge to light the asker on fire with Orpheus’ power.

Not like I’m in love with him, though. He fumed while he walked through the stagnant stillness of the cursed thirteenth hour. Why would I care if he’s a whore? It’s his own damned life, and it keeps him out of my hair. The only reason I’m out here is because Sadako gives me a headache. Her going out with Ryoji a second time doesn’t fucking matter to me. He continued to tell himself. Even while he pushed open a window to get into his classmate’s home, crowbar set to rest against the wall.

Though, some part of the midnight-haired man knew the truth deep down. Nobody would sneak into the house of a friend’s date with good intentions. Not while her and all of her family members were locked into heavy, black coffins beneath a swollen moon and tornado-green sky. Yet, there he was, doing his best to guestimate which coffin was Sadako’s. The one leaned against the couch, dark lid so smooth that it glinted in the eerie light that poured in from the window, or the one that Minato found laid out in the plainer, simply decorated bedroom? No, Sadako was too noisy and hyper for the only pictures on her wall to be family photos, so Minato moved on to the second bedroom in the household.

And, that one was far more suited to the type of girl Sadako was. Posters of pop bands, fairy lights, plushies, and colorful makeup that were scattered across her vanity. There was no question in Minato’s mind of who the obsidian coffin on the plushie-adorned bed held.

So, he paused within the doorway. The unmoved silence only broken by the soft skitter of the shadows that occupied the secret thirteenth hour of the day, the unnatural light of the unearthly moon, all of it was morbidly peaceful. A peace that seemed to sit heavily on Minato, as if the manifestations of humanities toxicity somehow had the foothold to judge the wildcard for the way he eventually moved to the side of the bed with his crowbar in hand.

This still doesn’t mean anything. I’m doing this because I don’t like her, not for Ryoji. Minato thought as he stared down at the coffin lid that his crowbar just barely caught the edge of. Her face just barely visible through the glass-like lid of the thing that encased her from the green-tinted night. Ryoji annoys me too, he’s next. This is not because I’m jealous…