#kass writing

[diremoone]

it’s just a scratch! (it isn’t) | sylus.

a/n:: apparently receiving a head injury leaves plot bunnies behind too lol [ sylus fluff ;; tis mildly selfship coded ;; i whipped this drabble up in about an hour haha ]

Sylus watches you pause as you lift the mug to the cabinet. Your brows furrow and proceed to slowly spin the mug around curiously.

“Sylus?” You halfway turn to him to look from your peripheral.

He glances up and replies, “Yes?”

“What am I doing?”

“Unloading your dishwasher, I believe.”

A pause, then a small, “Oh,” escapes your lips. Then you put the mug up and close the dishwasher. He’d finish it for you later.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asks, eyes glancing up at you from the book in his hands.

“About the same… Uhm…” You space out, staring at the TV for a good ten seconds before coming back to reality. “Maybe more dumb than usual.”

Sylus chuckles. “You’re not dumb. You just sustained a head injury.”

“Which has made me feel dumber,” you point out.

“Which is why I’m here,” he adds.

“To tell me I’m dumb?”

He scoffs in disbelief and closes his book as he remarks, “To make sure you don’t smack your head into anything else while you’re recovering and on leave, sweetheart.”

You feel the fluster creep to your shoulders and your cheeks at the nickname, ducking your head down bashfully.

Sweetie, when he’s teasing. Sweetheart, when he’s being soft and caring. You often hear more of the latter nowadays.

“It’s just for a few days. My symptoms should clear up come the day I go back for a checkup,” you grumble. “And it wasn’t even that bad. My elbow took the brunt of it.”

“I’m aware of all that. And until then, I’ll be sticking around to make sure you’re okay, kitten.”

But the cute moment ends when you cuss profusely, hands flying to your head in the spot where you’d gotten hit. Sharp pains crawl down from the spot, nearly debilitating and making you hunch over.

You faintly register something hitting the couch, followed by large hands guiding you by your shoulder and waist to sit down.

Sylus doesn’t like the way your body rocks in his hold, head bobbing up and down while your eyes are screwed shut from the pain, hissing when it flares. He takes his hand and gently cradles the back of your head, pulling you to his shoulder to find rest. If you had been standing, he’s sure he would’ve had to catch you before you hit the ground.

Thirty seconds in total pass before the pain in your head finally dies down. You still feel a tingle, but don’t mention it.

You inhale, then speak softly, “It passed.”

It takes a few seconds for Sylus to reply. “That was the worst one yet.”

“That you’ve seen,” you try and joke. But the grumble of dissatisfaction tells you he’s anything but amused. In fact, you might’ve just put him in a worse mood.

“I guess that means I’ll be staying over for quite some time, even after your next doctor’s visit.”

You lift your head from his shoulder and stare pointedly. “Sylus, no.”

“What? You don’t like my company?”

“It’s just not necessary for you to stay and watch me. I’m a big girl,” you argue.

“A big girl with a head injury,” he “corrects” you with a grin. “And don’t worry about your little friends. I’ll disappear for awhile when they decide to come over.”

You sigh in defeat. “You’re making my head hurt.”

“Then stop arguing, kitten.” And then Sylus’s voice drops an octave, expression changing from cheeky to concerned. “Let me take care of you. Your head meeting that table after that giant Wanderer tossed you wasn’t pretty to watch, you know.”

This time, you finally hear him, and he sees it.

You know where this is coming from. You know this comes from whatever past you two had together that you can’t remember (but apparently Sylus does) for the life of you. His concern for you is always genuine, you know this. Underneath every layer of teasing and cheekiness, you know Sylus means it when he says he wants to take care of you. And you can only imagine what you must’ve looked like getting tossed like a ragdoll by that Wanderer you’d fought.

You sure as hell know what your head feels like.

“Alright, you win.” You shift yourself onto his lap, getting cozy and laying your head back on his shoulder and closing your eyes. “Just make sure to jet when my friends come over. The last thing I need is a tremendous headache about how the leader of Onychinus is in my living room tending to me.”

He chuckles, then presses a long, sweet kiss to the top of your head. “Deal.”

[smilesrobotlover]

The dads being cute with their lovers (sorta)

I hc that Rito kiss each other by touching the top of their beaks to something (their beaks aren’t touching but that’s just cuz I can’t draw 💀💀) so they’re doing a lil Rito kiss <3 I WISH we had more of them man.

[defira85]

Keep Telling Me to Breathe

A completed Durgetash fic

Would you like a tantalising look into the earliest days of Enver Gortash and The Dark Urge, and how evil flourished in their climb to power? How two young and terrible people fell in love, and how their dabblings with divinity had terrible consequences for both them and all of Toril?

Would you like a devastating post canon exploration of the aftermath, as the last threads of their Absolute Hoax comes crumbling around them? A Dark Urge struggling with notions of morality and atonement, while still yearning for the life and the love she's lost?

Do you want to see the Dark Urge face down against Bhaal in all her titanic, divine rage?

Do you want to see her break open Banehold and battle Bane to retrieve the soul of a man she's not even sure how to love anymore?

Do you want violence and sex, politics and angst? Hurt comfort? Godly politics that acknowledges the divine horror of The Dark Urge? Both love interests die horribly at least once? A devastating journey through two timelines in a multi-Tav canon with a stunning cast of characters?

Do you want to see The Dark Urge realise she wants a normal, loving life, but only when it's too late?

You should read my fic. Hey, if you've been considering it but hadn't really thought the time was right, why not try it today and leave me lovely comments to wake up to after surgery this morning?

Start Chapter One of Fifteen here

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

Her bright green eyes went straight to Link and she smiled.

“Lady Riju,” Buliara said, walking to the foot of the throne and bowing with a fist on her heart and one on her stomach. “I bring the visitors.”

“So I see,” Lady Riju said with a small laugh. As Buliara took her place at the Chief’s side, Lady Riju inspected them curiously. Her eyes, outlined with black and gold, zeroed in on Link once more. “I believe you proved yourself to my guards with time magic?” She sounded expectant.

Link raised his hand and the Triforce of Courage flickered to life. Its power engulfed the room, slowing everything and everyone in it, almost to a standstill. As Fi blazed in response, Lady Riju lit up like fireworks. Even in slow motion, Link could see the delight in her eyes.

Despite her forced slowness, Lady Riju stood and began to make her way across the room to them, grinning from ear to ear, seemingly unbothered by how slowly she was forced to move.

Link lowered his hand and time returned to normal. Every guard was staring and muttering to each other in their native language. Buliara hastened to follow her Chief.

Lady Riju, now that time was normal, picked up the pace, not quite running to them, but close. She stopped just in front of Link, tossed back her head and laughed.

Her laugh sounded like Urbosa’s.

“Well, finally!” Lady Riju cried. She took Link’s hand as if they’d known each other for ages, her gaze and smile equally intense. “We’ve been waiting for ages, Your Highness.”

*

The Brigade has entered Gerudo Town, and they finally come face to face with their young Chief, Lady Riju. Together, the come up with a plan to retrieve the stolen Thunder Helm.

Meanwhile, Yuki and Barta receive aid from a surprising source.

[queenburd]

there's a hole where your heart lies (i can see it with my third eye) - 1

A/N: hello. hi. I have this teslaverse/Queenie fic that I've been working on for the better part of two years, possibly longer, and it's just been kind of stuck for a while. but I think about it often, and chapter 1 has been done for a solid minute. I've edited it and re-edited it and it's just. it's sitting here. I wanna show people. so I am posting chapter 1 for now. and if I get more done, then I get more done.

warnings for this fic as a whole...? there's a lot of child trauma, but to get into details would be massive spoilers and I'm going to keep them under wraps. for this chapter? well, there's rather dismissive language about horror victims, and there's an extended horror scene near the end. also, BUGS.

chapter 1

The world's in gray-scale.

The dirty white buildings are tightly clustered, in a courtyard that only barely meets the definition—it's a glorified parking lot, if anything. Dark gray concrete stretches out in all directions, cut through with lightning-bolt cracks that are unevenly colored in with rubbery black filler. A low fog hangs heavy above bare trees and benches with once-white paint that flakes off the dead wood.

There's no wind, but the stagnant air still manages to sting cold, sharp and biting. There's a deadly silence that rings, makes one uncomfortably aware of his own heartbeat and breathing. An abject misery hangs from the sky over the buildings like a thick, suffocating blanket.

In truth, the place seems more like a penitentiary than a children's school.

At the end of the empty lot, from a narrow gap between buildings, comes the grating gravely noise of an object being dragged across the concrete. It approaches steadily in the same way rain drums against the roof of a car; a consistent thrum of rolling, unending noise.

The child crosses the concrete at a steady pace; her wheeled backpack rolls through the silence in a deafening grind that thunders loud like a heartbeat, louder and louder and louder still, until the moment it stops. The silence races back in to fill the gaps, faster than the mind can conceive, leaving a sensation like ears popping under the release of pressure.

The girl and her cargo have stopped. Her eyebrows are furrowed, mouth set in a perplexed frown that turns into an abject, angry scowl.

“You're not supposed to be here.”

Kass snaps upright from the mattress, lungs burning for air. His hand clutches frantically at his chest where his heart pounds away under his skin, viciously trying to escape him. Dib hovers at his elbow, eyes wide and flicking between him and his bed-mate. She's still, chest rising and falling slowly; her breath softly rattles on every exhale. The pads of Kass's fingers press to his aching sternum, massaging at the space to little avail as he tries to catch his breath. His mouth is dry and cottony; he takes the time to swallow and find it in him to speak.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

--

It's been four days since he pulled the van back up into the garage; four days since he gathered up her limp, light body from the cargo hold and carried it into the garage through the back doors. Four days since Dib paced back and forth, crushing a feather that's dangled off his wrist for the better part of two years in his fist, pleading, “I need help, I need help, come on, why isn't it working,” as Kass set her down onto his bed with a terrible gentleness, and set his body into autopilot so that he wouldn't retch.

Four days of fighting the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her awake, while Dib frantically went through his own dark websites trying to figure out what went wrong.

Four days. Four days ago they were sitting next to each other in the van.

--

The streetlights are cutting stark patterns through the dirty windows of the van as it grumbles down the eerily quiet city street. The yellow-orange beams aren't enough for Dib to see his notes for more than a couple seconds before they are gone, then there again, then gone. He grimaces where he sits in the cabin, just behind the driver's seat.

“Do we know anything about the survivors?”

“Survivor, singular. Not much more beyond what I sent you,” comes the terse reply from the driver's seat where Kass white-knuckles the steering wheel, eyes straight ahead. “The little delinquent's comatose, and he's not getting better. Even with the feeding tube, doctors are saying it's getting worse.”

“Some kind of vampire maybe?”

“Definitely parasitic, but nobody's caught anything creeping in and out the place.”

May looks out the window from her place in the passenger seat silently, her shoulders hunched and curled inwards. Dib shifts uncomfortably, catching how the streetlights cut her profile in the window. He watches Kass turn his head towards her, like he's trying to catch her in his peripheral, before something in his jaw tightens and he focuses on the road.

This isn't what Dib was expecting when Kass texted him the previous night, suggesting he assist with a paranormal hunt. When they'd discussed it, there had been no mention of... this, this weird, palpable tension that's settled over the two people in the front seats. He doesn't really know what to do with the suspicion he's likely been invited along to break some of that tension.

He pushes through valiantly. “What about the other kids? I know their condition was, uh, pretty bad, but couldn't get much detail off the news articles.”

“Husks,” Kass says, his tone clipped. “Dried up like they'd been there decades. No bites, no scratches, basically mummies without the wrapping paper.”

“But the articles said they'd been missing--”

“Four days, I know, Einstein. You do realize I read the articles before I sent them to you, right? Why do you think the nasty particulars were kept out of them? The press would have a field day if they knew how the kids looked. It's why all their parents opted for torching. Can't imagine any of them would be interested in open-casket.”

It's crass, which isn't new. Beside Kass, May's fingers curl a little tighter into her sleeves. The van jostles as it pulls off the street into the empty parking lot in front of the deteriorated storefront. It comes to a rough stop that leaves Dib gripping the shoulder of the driver's seat, before the engine dies.

“Right,” Kass says. “Come on.”

They exit the vehicle in relative silence. As he climbs out the back, Dib examines May's face closely. Her eyes won't meet his, a fact he's becoming more and more alarmed by, but before he can try to reach out to her, she's trailing away from the van towards the boarded up storefront without a word. Huffing, he slams the door to the cabin shut and runs to catch up with Kass, who is two steps behind May, hands shoved into his coat pockets.

“I thought you said this place was closed up. It looks in bad shape. Why are the lights on?”

“Whole block is paid for by the city. Since the other storefronts are open, they don't bother trying to get this one shut down. Plus,” Kass says with a grimace, “wiring's at least two decades old. It's all knotted up with the other stores, so taking it out would mean rewiring the whole bloody building. Costs less to just let the bulbs burn out.”

True enough, past the dirty and broken panes at the top of the store windows, the lights inside flicker with irregularity. When they step onto the pavement, Dib can't help how his eyes are drawn to the bright yellow police tape that flutters slightly in the night breeze, stretched in front of the locked sliding doors. “You sure we're not going to have to worry about authorities?” he asks suddenly, uncertain. “Isn't this an active crime scene?”

Ahead of them, May has shifted without looking back and flown up to one of the broken windows to creep in. Kass's gaze follows her, his mouth a firm thin line. “Not anymore. Police can't find evidence of foul play, since they've gotten fuckall from the scene they're trying to retrace the victims' steps. Hell, they can't even pinpoint what day they died because of the condition of the bodies, so they're looking into other avenues.”

“But,” Dib starts, gritting his teeth when the front doors slide open slowly with a grinding noise, the padding bristles rotted and the mechanism complaining from lack of oil. May pushes them to fully widen with a grimace, and tears at the police tape with hardly a thought. “But,” he starts again, “you guys are pretty sure it's supernatural.”

“Like you said. Vampiric tendencies.” Kass steps into the store past May, and pauses there. Dib narrows his eyes, squints at the way Kass's arm lifts, as if to set a hand on one of her shoulders—before it moves up instead to scratch at the back of his head. “Hurry up now.”

Dib huffs again and follows, falling in step with May, who had stayed in the door frame. “Hey,” he says, nudging her shoulder with his to try to catch her eyes. “Thanks for getting the door.”

May finally meets his gaze, offering a crooked little half-smile that slips away far too quickly for his liking. Her brows are creased upward, and in the flickering LED lights he can't help seeing the deep dark shadows under her eyes. “S'what I'm here for.”

“Pfft, no, there's plenty of other ways we could've gotten in, you're here for way more important reasons.” Dib grins. “Somebody's gotta have some sense here. You are the one with the brain cell in the party.”

That prompts a quiet huff of laughter. “Truly, we are doomed.”

“When you two are finished playing out your sitcom,” the short tone snaps from ahead, “come look at this.”

Rolling his eyes, Dib focuses forward again, where Kass has stopped just past the customer service counter near the store entrance. He finds him looking down the expanse of the building with a grimace, and follows Kass's gaze.

“Jeez. This place is worse than the garage was when you were living in it.”

The store may have closed several years ago, but it still hosts plenty of racks and rows and shelves, numerous nooks and crannies covered in dust, grime, cobwebs, and who knows what else. It's big, too, and it only feels bigger from the broken mirrors that line the ends of the clothing racks and hover in every dark corner of the building. It's impossible to see the entirety of the store from the front, the view blocked by the shelving and the supporting pillars, save for the two main walkways down the length of it. Overhead, bugs drift lazily around the inconsistent lights.

“I thought it would be... emptier,” May says from Dib's other side. “I mean, I know the whole chain closed, so they'd have to try to sell the stands and so on, but... I guess they didn't manage.”

Kass taps his index finger against his thigh in irritation. “Bollocks. Right, strategy is going to have to change considering the mess we'll have to sort through. We'll have to be methodical about this.” He turns suddenly, his annoyed squint aimed at May. “You used to work retail. Any suggestions?”

She seems taken aback that he's looking to her, so she stumbles through her words for a few seconds. “Oh, I—um, when—When I worked retail they had us in sections for our shifts. You'd sort of weave through the aisles and shelves in that section to make sure everything was in place. And, you know, to keep an eye out for security devices.” May brings her hand up to her mouth, curling a light fist to press against her lower lip while she thinks. “Oh, and, when going to and coming back from breaks, we'd have to loop the perimeter and go through the aisles there in the same way.”

He nods, clearly thinking while he paces forward a few steps. “So starting at the corner and weaving through to make sure nothing's overlooked. I'll take the front left side and head towards the back. Astro-boy, head to the back right side and move towards the front. Duckie, take the middle racks.”

Dib frowns crookedly. He can see the logic in Kass's strategy, but it's definitely not the safest approach. Beside him, May seems to have similar thoughts.

“I don't know if it's such a good idea to split up, Kass,” she starts, before stepping back as Kass turns to stride towards her.

“What do you suggest, then? If you've any opinions on the subject, please feel free to share with the rest of us.”

Dib's missing something, if the way Kass's words make May's shoulders go right up to her ears is anything to go by. He watches uncomfortably as she visibly steels herself, words tripping through a false start. “I'm not—I'm just saying it's a lot more dangerous that way.”

Kass's voice becomes poisonous saccharine. “How about I go start in the corner, and you come back to me when you decide what you want to do instead, if what I want is clearly so unrealistic.” The humor drops and leaves chilly anger in its wake. “You make up your mind and tell me what you want. If you ever feel like bringing it up.”

“That's not—” she starts, but he has already stepped past her without giving her another glance. Dib watches her forcefully swallow, hands curled into little fists that she presses under her arms, shoulder curling inward. “That's not fair,” she finishes quietly, to nobody in particular.

There's a creeping awkward silence, where neither she nor Dib move. Then, with a small huff, May presses her fist to her mouth again and begins walking with purpose. “C'mon,” she says quietly. “We'll weave the right side together, see about getting things done more efficiently.”

Dib trails after her down the right main walkway towards the back of the store, heels of his boots feeling loud on the filthy concrete tile and broken glass. “Hey,” he says, mostly to her back, “May, slow down, c'mon.”

“What, Dib?” The question is short, terse, but she obliges, lets him alongside her. From here he can see her eyes are still on the floor, her arms still tight bands against her chest. They pass mirror after mirror, and May's profile is distorted in the cracked reflection. It makes him uneasy, how many mirrors there are.

“Are you okay? No, wait, that's a dumb question,” he admonishes himself quickly. “You're not okay, I can see that. But—what's going on between you and Kass? I mean I know it's not my business, we've been over that a million times, but I'm really... you look...”

“Like shit,” she finishes in a deadpan voice. “Yeah, I know.”

“I mean I wasn't gonna say that.”

“Yeah, but we both know it's accurate.” May gives a hard sniffle, gritting her teeth like she's angry with herself. “It's—We're. We had a... disagreement. He's angry. He's...”

Dib scowls. “He shouldn't be taking it out on you, whatever the hell it is he did.”

“He didn't—Dib, you can't always...” They reach the back of the main building, and May stops and turns to face him, pinching the space between her brows hard enough to dent the skin with her nails. “He's frustrated, and it's my fault. He's allowed to feel frustrated with me.”

“That doesn't change the fact he's being needlessly mean.”

“Can we please not talk about this anymore?” There's a desperation in her voice, and a threat of her voice cracking. She looks up to the ceiling, where the lights capture the passing silhouettes of winged insects, moths and gnats alike. Her eyes shine as she clearly and valiantly attempts to not cry in front of him. “Can we just do this and, and I'll sort it out myself? Please?”

Dib audibly lets the air out of his nose. “I'll stop bugging you. Here,” he says suddenly, “you take the right side starting from the back. I'll take the left side from the back, and meet up with Kass halfway. We'll start on the middle.”

May's eyes flick from the ceiling to him, the corners lined with resignation. She looks so deeply tired, and below the flickering light the bags under her eyes look stark, the sockets sunken and shadowed.

“You know that I know you just want to pick a fight with him, right.”

“I'm not gonna pick a fight!” he says, unconvincingly defensive.

She sighs and squeezes her eyes shut, clearly frustrated but too worn to pursue the subject. “Fine. Go on. Don't hound him though. I'll meet up with you in a bit.” She doesn't look at him when she turns the corner and walks away from him, her silhouette terribly small besides the tall stands before it disappears from view entirely.

Dib takes a deep breath, and then he goes to the corner. He turns, and he doesn't weave, but beelines for where Kass is about a third of the way through the aisles, crouched by an endcap that faces the wall.

“Thought I told you to go to the other side, Encyclopedia Brown,” the man states without looking up from where he's examining something on a low shelf.

“May's started there. I need to talk to you.”

“No, you don't,” Kass retorts. “You need to turn back round and trot off like a good loyal chihuahua and take your nose right out of my business where it doesn't belong. I know you have eyes, Dib, but according to everyone in your little yes-man group, you also have a brain, so do us the honor of using it for once, and keep your trap shut.”

“Okay but you realize you just brought it up yourself before I could even say anything.”

“I'm well aware we're about the furthest thing from subtle, Columbo, even someone as emotionally constipated as you would pick up on it.”

“Could you stop being an asshole for five minutes?” Dib says utterly exasperated. “I know you don't care about what I think, and I know it's not my business, but May's in bad shape and you have something to do with it. Big shocker, I know, but I have a problem with that!”

Kass finally looks away from the shelf to put his elbow on his knee and press his forehead to his fist with a grimace. “I know, chrissake. I know, Dib.”

His tone is startlingly pained, even fraying with a waver laced through his words. Dib hasn't heard anything akin to it in his life—well, no. That isn't true. It's remarkably reminiscent to an apology offered in a deserted mall to a younger Dib. The stark surprise is enough to render him silent.

Kass continues without acknowledging whatever might be on his face. The man looks almost agonized, teeth grit and brows drawn tightly together.

“You think I want this? D'you think I find it fun? That I enjoy being an absolute arse-shit to the one person who I—who actively enjoys my presence? I don't, believe it or not, I actually truly don't.” He stands, turns sharply to face Dib, expression hardened. “But this isn't on me, this whole clusterfuck. I can't fix it. It's broken but, if you can even comprehend it, I'm not the person who cocked it up and has to try to patch it.”

Dib swallows, body tensing when Kass approaches and bullies his way into his personal bubble. They're about matching in height these days, so Kass can't loom over him like he used to, but the man's whole posture is still actively aggressive, on the offensive--

No. That doesn't seem right.

There's this thing that some species in nature do to protect themselves—it's called deimatic behavior. The phrase is used to refer to animals that do things when under threat, like make themselves look bigger, or show off bright toxic colors, in the attempt to scare off the thing hunting them. Frill-necked lizards fan out the frills on either side of their faces and open their mouths wide while standing on their hind legs, to look as large and imposing as possible. Some species of snakes flatten the skin around their heads to look more like a cobra. It's a bluff tactic, only really a type of defense mechanism.

What Kass is doing is not much different, Dib thinks. He looks posed to strike, but he's only resorted to this after an intense negative reaction because of what Dib said. He's trying to look large because he's trying to protect himself.

Dib has seen Kass in a bad way before, but hindsight is 20-20 and he lacked the context at the time to recognize a large amount of the cruelty was means of lashing out to keep himself safe. It doesn't help that, as a baseline, Kass is sullen, unpleasant, sarcastic and all around nasty around most people.

But, when Dib was younger, Kass didn't need to posture as much, not until he was on the back foot. He only doubled down when he felt actively in danger.

So this...

Kass seems to realize his reaction in the same moment, because he steps back and pinches the brow of his nose, letting out a breath.

“I know she's not okay. I know I'm not helping. I get that you have it in your head that you can just thwack me over the head to the point of concussion until I apologize or some other children's show nonsense, but this is not something either of us can fix. We can't just put a plaster over it like a baby boo-boo. Do you realize how aggravating that is, to see something so fucked but not have any power over the situation?”

Dib swallows. He bites the inside of his cheek.

“She said you were frustrated with her. I thought she was just—trying to justify you being a shithead.”

Kass doesn't say anything to that, rubbing his hand against the side of his face.

“Did she... do something?”

“She didn't do anything,” he finally mutters. “She never--”

He's cut short by a noise Dib doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget. May is screaming.

They're both moving before his brain even fully processes the sound; experience has ingrained instinct. Kass bolts ahead of him through the aisle, and they both see the stark, blazing light that reflects off the mirrors and leaves spots in Dib's retinas. It pulses and shines like a star, there by the right walkway where the aisles turn into racks.

They're still a few yards from it, their boots thudding and squeaking loudly on the dusty floors, when the screaming cuts out. Kass lurches forward, gun drawn and arm yanking at the wheeled rack, pushing himself forward. Those last few feet, Dib pushes himself desperately for a last burst of speed, so he's unprepared to run face-first into Kass's shoulder where he's stopped suddenly.

Before them, May screams around a massive bony hand that wraps around her face to hold her entire skull against the floor. The sound is muffled by the noise of swarming insects—moths of every size, in the air, on the floor, crawling out of the thing that has pinned May to the ground while her heels skid and squeak against the tiles in a futile bid for traction. They're in May's hair, on her clothes. They flutter through the exposed ribcage made of rotting wood--

The monster is a massive, skeletal thing. Wide empty sockets stare at its captured meal, out of a shattered skull where the winged insects crawl and alight on the branches of a dead tree. It's part bone, part wood, part flayed skin and exposed muscle, all pressed down on May's chest, its thin limbs caging her small body.

Kass shoots it straight in the skull, expanding the shattered hole into the eye sockets. The only reaction it provides is a tip of its head, bits of matted thin hair swaying as it tilts its face towards them.

The noise of the swarm rises, moths flying in thick clusters as Kass shoots again at a target Dib can now barely see. “Stop, stop, you'll hit May!” Dib shouts over the noise—but before the sentence is even fully out of his mouth the noise dies entirely.

The moths are gone. The creature is gone. The only sounds now is their panting, and the horrible wheeze that rattles out of May's throat as she convulses on the floor for only a moment more, before going entirely, deathly still.

Dib pushes forward past Kass, who still holds his gun as he scans the store rapidly. Dropping to his knees on the floor, Dib presses his hand to May's shoulder, then her face.

“May! May, wake up!”

By all accounts, she seems physically unharmed. She's still breathing, though it still sounds somewhat strained. But despite his shaking her shoulder, despite his hands pressing to her throat and her cheek, her eyes stay closed. She doesn't rouse. She doesn't move.

And there's something else.

“Kass, she's not waking up! She's not—I thought she was invulnerable!”

He glances over his shoulder where Kass has approached, and finds the man has gone still at the sight of them. The color has left his face entirely. He doesn't answer Dib, which is probably the most frightening thing.

“Isn't she?!”

Kass drops beside him. He touches May's hand, her cheek, and confirms what Dib has already discovered. Her skin is almost cold to the touch.

May is never cold. She's a goddess of light and life, a literal firebird, always barely warmer than the rest of them. Now, her cheek is cooler than even his own fingers.

“How was I supposed to know,” he breathes out. “I wouldn't—if I'd known this was necrotic based, I'd never have been so stupid as to have brought her.”

He looks up at Dib. The lights above are stark and harsh, which only adds to the ghastly pale shade of his face, drawn up in unfamiliar terror.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know?!”

end chapter 1.

[breannasfluff]

Accordion Music

The sound of accordion music is so out of place in the wilderness that Time ignores it at first. Twilight, trotting at his side, flicks his ears but doesn’t say anything either. It’s Wild who pulls Apple to a stop with a chirp, head tilted. His ears flick back and forth and Time focuses again on his surroundings.

It’s definitely music, coming from somewhere nearby. Music could mean Hylians. Real people Wild can interact with!

Come!  Time lopes off the path, ears pricked to follow the sound. Twilight falls in by his shoulder and Apple amiably starts forward. 

What? What? New sound?  Wild keeps up a steady chatter of noise, which makes it slightly harder to follow the music.

Soon, though, it’s loud enough for everyone to hear and the cub taps Apple into a trot. She pulls ahead and Time heaves a sigh as he picks up the pace. The last thing they need is for Wild to scare the person off. Then again, two wolves might not be the best approach, either.

Excited!  The hero slides off Apple’s back before she comes to a halt and darts out of the tree line. 

Pup!  Twilight doesn’t hesitate before following. Time pauses at the edge of the forest, taking in the situation before he throws himself in.

There’s a…bird. A blue bird; tall, with an accordion between his feathers. Time’s never seen a creature like this before. There are still Hylians in Hyrule…right?

Wild gives a questioning  boof  while he circles the bird. Twilight lurks behind him; not quite growling, but flashing a tooth.

“Hello there. Who might you be?” The bird talks at least.

Cocking his head, the hero gives a little yip and sidles closer. 

“My name is Kass.”

“K-k-kss,” he tries. Then, again, “Kass? Kass!” Wild turns to Twilight, clapping and pointing at the bird. “Kass!” Then he turns back to where Time waits.  Alpha! New friend! Come!

Hesitant, Time slinks out of the trees. Kass’ feathers puff up on his head, but he does little more than hold the accordion in one arm. 

Wild reaches out and pats it; then, because he is a gremlin, attempts to pull it out of the bird’s grip.

No! No take!  Time snaps lightly at the cub when he approaches. How to explain it’s not polite to take people’s items? They share everything.

“It’s all right.” Indulgent, Kass passes the instrument to Wild. It’s a stupid decision, but Time can’t tell the bird he’s liable to get it back in non-working order.

Read the rest here!

[dailyeca]

KIRAPIPI KIRAPIKA~!!!! OUR HAPPY ENDING, T62!! WOOOO!!!

[twofacedharveydent]

The Prayer | Nerissa x Arthur → @arrthurpendragon

[kassandras-one-braincell]

Kassandra is such a movie critic. You snuggle up to her on the sofa, choose something on the telly, but don't pick anything with a semblance of a historical context around her because she'll be mumbling the whole time about the inaccuracies. Want to watch 300? No, you don't - you won't be able to focus on the film over her improvised lecture on the Battle of Thermopylae. Disney's Hercules? Don't even hit play. Save yourself.

But she's so heatedly passionate about history cough nerd cough that while you do regret not choosing some cheesy modern day romcom, you do love how her eyebrows furrow and her nose wrinkles at certain discrepancies. And she's never still throughout whatever you choose to watch together, always lightly fidgeting with your clothes, playing with your hair, or running her fingers along your skin where she can reach, mapping out the tiniest variations in texture. She doesn't even realise, otherwise completely focused. You wouldn't change it for the world.

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

Everybody say hello to Kass! 👋

I've been wanting to do one of these OC template things for a while, and it really helped me solidify Kass's character :>

template used is [here], squadmate pics are taken from their wiki pages

I may or may not have made this partly to avoid going to Virmire lololol

[diremoone]

yakuza! ryomen sukuna | hcs.

overdone trope with this man but here we go again lmao. i’m just writing little drabbles that pop up in my head atp to keep the inspiration going sobs… i need a gallon of coffee

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna, who’s been involved in yakuza bullshit since his last year of middle school, has a soft spot for you. Most people who went to school with you (who are also apart of his gang) two know that, and they know that unless they want to end up like the Zen’in named Naoya, they won’t fuck with you. You’re untouchable, and the second anyone starts rumors about you (everyone knows they were lies regardless because of your character), they’re moving schools within 48 hours.

Fuck ‘em.

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna keeps you far away from his gang bullshit as he gets deeper into the darkness and you pull yourself farther away, into the light where he wants you to be. But he knows that even his little sunshine is capable of being mean like him, but it’s tucked away for those that warrant your wrath.

He thinks fondly back to the time you knocked out a couple girls cold with a volleyball for picking on Miwa.

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna who swears his hands aren’t stained red whenever they’re holding your hands. Whenever he’s with you, he feels nothing like how his gang makes him feel—he feels normal, like that part of him doesn’t exist. And inside the walls of your home, it doesn’t. To you, in those shared moments, he’s just the nice boy you helped get through middle and high school and grew feelings for.

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna who buys you pretty things with money that isn’t gotten by bloodshed… as much as possible anyway. You aren’t ignorant to where the money comes from, but you’ve done your best to make your wishes clear. And Sukuna abides by them as much as possible.

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna who has his younger cousin Choso posted as your personal bodyguard whenever you go out, even when it’s just to do some simple grocery shopping. He isn’t taking any chances, this you’ve been made aware of and have accepted. And you’re fine with it, too, considering you grew up with Choso.

But what you don’t know is that there’s already been multiple attempts on your life and your safety. Sukuna isn’t having it.

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna who gets fed up when you’re on your third date within four months. What pisses him off is that he can’t tell if you’re enjoying the asshole’s time and company or not. But when he sees the man press a kiss to the back of your hand at the end of the date, jealousy rears its head.

The next night, he’s at your front door, dressed in leather and with a spare bike helmet under his left arm.

You answer in a hoodie and black sweatpants, confused and dazed until he says softly, “C’mon, sweetheart. Lemme show you how a man gives a woman a good time.”

Your confusion turns to amusement. “Was wondering when you were going to take me out. It’s about time.”

Sukuna grins and holds out his arm. “C’mon then.”

🖤 Yakuza Husband! Sukuna who ends up putting the ring on your finger two months after that date. You end up signing the papers long before the actual ceremony happens. And to Choso, Yuuji; and all the others that have witnessed your relationship from its first greeting to the ring on your finger, they can only sigh in relief because it’s about fucking time.

… Oh, shit.

Kids.

a/n: the rain and thunder while writing this was a big help lol. it’s been raining for two days now hehe

[phthalology]

Destiny 2: Anima Inquisitione

Throne World frogs were first identified in the Pale Heart approximately three days after the defeat of the Witness. The Hidden surmised the frogs had been brought there by the Lucent Brood, by accident or on purpose. Being an entirely paracausal landscape created by a mixture of Guardians’ memories and the Traveler’s terraforming, and, having existed for such a short time as the Pale Heart had, the definition of invasive species in this situation was unclear. The recommended reaction to the frogs was, therefore, to wait and see how they adapted. A committee was formed to discuss possible future environmental management, including introduction of the frogs’ predators, namely swamp snakes and great horned owls. Ikora had also encouraged the Hidden to tag frogs. 

“There’s one,” said Euclid, pointing down the sand bar. Sand grains clattered off his chassis. Far above, on the top of the sunny cliffs, was the Hunters’ camp and the recreation of the old Tower.

The Hero of the Red War flicked her half-gaze to the rather large frog in the surf. One Ghost darted in the air. 

Old made new made old made new, thought Euclid. The grassy overhang on what had been the Vanguards’ ready room looked now as ancient as the Ishtar Academy. The Tower inside the Pale Heart was different from the ruins of the real old Tower. It even smelled different, all green sap and petrichor. But, the Light considered this version somehow definitive. Odd. Euclid and Kass had seen what that meant for Cayde.

What did it mean for Euclid? 

Euclid and Kass walked with measured paces toward the frog, angling to keep their shadows off it. 

The silence between the two Warlocks was comfortable, but the location was not. Even the beautiful sandbars were uncanny. Euclid reached down and scooped up a handful of sand and salt. The tan grains stood out against his robes and his metal palm. Like many things in this world, the grains of sand were made of memory. They had been formed from pieces of objects, chopped up with the clean butchery so eerily reminiscent of the Witness��� Final Shape. The grains of sand were unusually large, more like pebbles. As he turned them over he could pick out the spines of a War Beast, then stone eyes, then the tines of a Ghost. 

In the final battle, he had watched Kass’ Ghost channel the Light. Ghost had lived and died and lived enough for both Kass and Euclid. What little left of Euclid there was: Yarrow had shrugged her strong arm up under his shoulders in order to keep some important panels from peeling off. Euclid mostly remembered the pain in his head, toward the end, because his Ghost Constant had not been there. 

“I miss the Traveler,” Euclid said, knowing the words were apropos of nothing, old nerves rattling which he’d thought were firmly screwed in. “The old Traveler. But it was never inclined to speak one-on-one, hah.”

Kass matched his tone smoothly, as if they weren’t stalking toward a frog like kittens. “No. But through visions and birds and …”

Ghost flitted into existence at Kass’ shoulder, his eye light dimmed in comparison to the forever-noon false sun. Kass reached out a hand and Ghost cuddled into it with attentive affection.

“And here we are, talking about the Traveler inside it. What — Oof.” Euclid stepped into the waves, splashing, and grabbed the frog. His fingers fit just under its wet limbs. Holding it felt like holding a turtle, except that the antennae buzzed. “What odd gossip. What I mean by missing it is, I hear about that feeling of connection to the Traveler that Cayde had, but it’s alien to me. Cayde said himself he interrupted the grieving process, but, meanwhile, he had proof that the Traveler had loved him.”

“I want that proof, too.” Kass looked down.

“I don’t.” Euclid gestured with the frog. 

Kass raised her chin again. The sunlight caught on a white strip of bark in her striated eye like noon might catch on the blade of her sword.  

“It’s more that I’d like to have experienced it,” Euclid said. “I’d like to have been able to, to tell Taeko about it, hear what irreverent thing she would say. Taeko, she said to me, Cayde might not have been that different from what her fireteammates became. Batteries for the Light. Except on our side.” 

The frog’s legs stoped wiggling. Its antenna drifted, as if it was curious about the differences in the air this high off the ground. 

Kass held both her hands out for the frog so Euclid could fish a band out of a pouch. 

“I know,” Kass said, and asked about Taeko, and they talked happily of her while they clipped the band on and entered its number in the database. The frog pedaled its legs and did not croak or chirp.

Euclid’s thoughts drifted while they worked. He was needed on Venus next; Failsafe had detected oddities among the Vex. Euclid suspected he knew exactly what awaited him there: the unknowable, times and identities repeating, quantum froth bubbling up alongside Warlock egos. But that was next. This, the beach made of jumbled memories and the water clear as stolen crystal — this was now. Kass handed Euclid the frog. 

He put the insect-amphibian down, feeling and hoping for and dismissing the familiarity of having something small by his side, something friendly moving out of the corner of his eye. The frog hopped across the sand toward the land past the sand bars. Euclid wondered, with a warm curiosity, where it would go. 

*

Euclid belongs to @saltineofswing. Happy belated birthday! Yarrow belongs to @darkwingerduck

[defira85]

Keep Telling Me To Breathe

A Durgetash chapter fic

In 1482DR, Bhaal’s triumphant resurrection comes at the cost of the life of his daughter. For Enver Gortash, aspirational Banite caught in her orbit, that cost is unacceptable - and the bargain he makes to undo her death will have repercussions across the years and across the planes

In 1492DR, the Absolute Crisis teeters between chaos and collapse, undone by the workings of the courageous and charismatic paladin Carmela Tavares. Amongst her ragtag group of unlikely heroes is a woman without a past, and a voracious hunger for blood and death. To save the people of Baldur’s Gate, and protect the Sword Coast from ruin, she must uncover her history with the city and the man who rules it, before Tavares calls for both of their deaths

Chapter Fifteen - An ending, of sorts, and how love grows over time

Read Chapter Fifteen here or start with Chapter One here

And the monster is done - the epilogue awaits you all. Thank you so much to everyone who came along with me for this story

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

It wasn’t fair. Princess Zelda did not look at Harper the way Lady Impa looked at Zamir. Princess Zelda did not give him a special smile, softness in her gaze. She did not look for him when she entered a room. She did not walk more quickly to catch up with him. And yet Lady Impa did all that for Zamir. It shouldn’t be allowed! It was uncouth, it was not proper!

Link was a commoner too. Why did he have the Princess’s affection? And how in Hylia’s name did he appear so unaffected by it? The boy’s ingratitude was just insulting! 

A new song came to mind. Not a love song, but a song of anger. A song of hate. A mean, mocking song.

Harper would never play it in public, of course. But everyone needed to vent once in a while, didn’t they?

So he took up his pen and began to write the meanest things about Link that he could think of.

*

A trip to the Spring of Courage raises Harper's suspicions about Zelda and her knight. As his jealousy grows and finally explodes, he makes a mistake that may just cost him his career as a court bard.

[smilesrobotlover]

Whumptober day 8- outnumbered

There’s not a lotta emphasis on being outnumbered but it’s there I promise 😭😭 anyways strangers across eras this time around!! Teehee I was sooo excited for this one.

Warning for a bite and a bloody injury

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was an eventful morning for the men searching for the heroes of Hyrule. They were just about to eat breakfast when enemies ambushed them, leaving them unprepared and hungry. The enemies didn’t seem to be difficult, they were bokoblins from Rusl’s time, and he said how easy they are to fight, so the fighters didn’t struggle. There were just so many of them.

Talon ducked to cover behind a fallen log when the monsters attacked. He wasn’t a fighter by any means, so instead of making the others worried for him, he always decided to hide away with his pitchfork. He raised his head above the log and watched the fighting, noticing Kass and Linebeck nonchalantly sitting at the log he was using as cover.

“What are y’all doin’?” He asked.

“Watching the show,” Linebeck answered, not looking away.

“Well, they might come over here…” Talon stared at the monsters who all seemed to be distracted by the fighters.

“Don’t you worry Talon,” Kass reassured, “those men won’t let the monsters go anywhere near us. Just look at them!”

Talon sighed and watched them all fight. Leon was easily the strongest fighter here, so Talon had no doubt that an army of bokoblins was nothing to him, and even though Ammon didn’t have his prosthetic on (which Talon still didn’t understand), he was holding his own just fine. Benji surprised Talon the most, he was new to the group so his prowess was unknown, but he seemed to be swinging his unbreakable guitar violently back and forth which was effective against the bokoblins. Rusl was close to Benji, keeping his distance from the dangerous swinging of course, but close enough that any straggling bokoblins wouldn’t hurt him.

Talon watched while they fought, and it was a long while until a markless bokoblin was killed and the rest fell. Ammon let out a sigh and stabbed his sword in the ground, shaking his one good arm with a pained expression on his face.

“Goddesses, we need to look for the markless monster faster,” he said, mostly to himself. Leon shrugged.

“You did good with just one arm.”

“Well I’m not going to let myself be helpless with just one arm,” Ammon said with a smile. He began walking towards his tent. “It’s a bit early but I’m going to put my other arm on, fighting with one isn’t very comfortable.”

“I can imagine,” Leon muttered, following him. Rusl watched them for a moment then turned to the huddled group, who were beginning to wander around.

“Are y’all alright?” He asked.

Linebeck gave a thumbs up. “You guys are great.”

Rusl rolled his eyes and chuckled a bit. “Well I’m glad we can give y’all a show.”

“It’s truly remarkable watching you folks fight,” Kass gushed, “to have such discipline is incredible.”

“Well the offer to teach you three combat is still open.”

“Oh no, I usually just fly away. Besides, I’m a musician, not a fighter.”

Rusl gestured to Benji, who was cleaning his bloodied guitar.

“Well, uh, he has an indestructible guitar, I do not.”

Rusl chuckled and the men chatted for a bit while cleaning up the dead bodies of bokoblins. With them all being hungry and the fighters being tired, they were ready to make some food to make up for the fighting. Talon stayed behind the log though, staring at the dead bokoblins, until he heard a distant howl. He spun around and saw nothing, but heard the howls getting louder. The others didn’t seem to notice however, and Talon climbed over the log to get closer to them.

“Uh, boys, I don’t think this is over yet,” He said, interrupting the conversations the others were having.

“What do you mean?” Ammon asked.

“I heard somethin’.”

“What did you hear?” Leon stepped forward.

The men all jumped at a loud howl, and a large group of wolfos popped out of the bushes. Talon quickly ducked behind another log and watched as the others split up. Kass grabbed Linebeck with his talons and flew up into the trees. Talon would’ve been upset that he was left behind, but he honestly would rather risk getting mauled by a wolfos than falling out of a tree. He watched as the fighters went back into their fighting patterns, killing the wolfos left and right. Benji’s guitar wasn’t doing enough to kill the wolfos, but it stunned them enough for Ammon or Leon to finish it off. Talon’s eyes wandered over to Rusl who was… doing nothing… wait.

Talon watched in horror as Rusl, pale to the face, stared as the others killed the wolfos. He looked like he was paralyzed, too scared to move. But that didn’t make sense for Rusl, he was never scared of anything. Talon looked at the others, then back at Rusl. They needed his help. There were too many wolfos for all of them to fight against safely, but Talon couldn’t find the voice or the courage to move towards him. He just watched, helplessly. A wolfos noticed the frozen man and got closer to him, and Talon wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He wanted to scream for Rusl to do something, but he just watched as Rusl stared at the large, gray wolfos. It growled and got low, looking like it was about to pounce, and Talon figured that Rusl would at least move to protect himself. But he didn’t.

Talon couldn’t hold back the gasp when the wolf jumped at Rusl and bit down on his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Rusl yelled out in pain as the wolfos let go and tried to aim for his neck, but he fought back this time to stop it, and Talon couldn’t sit around anymore. He let out a battle cry and charged the wolfos with his flimsy little pitchfork. He stabbed its side and the feeling of the pitchfork sinking into the soft flesh nearly made Talon’s stomach lurch, but he pushed on, tearing the monster off of Rusl. The wolfos howled in pain as the pitchfork was pulled out and Talon froze as he realized that it wasn’t dead, and was instead angry. Several other wolfos came by and growled at Talon, protecting the injured wolfos. They were surrounded, and Talon froze up from fear. He felt completely exposed and helpless, left to defend his injured friend when he didn’t even know how to defend. But before the wolfos could attack him, Leon came to the rescue, and killed all the wolfos surrounding him.

There was silence, and Talon realized that all the wolfos were dead, and he gave a sigh of relief. He barely fought any of them, yet he felt like he fought an entire army. Boy, he sure was pathetic. Leon stuck his sword in the ground and glared at Rusl, who was clutching his bloody shoulder.

“Rusl, what was that?” He yelled, surprising Talon.

“S-sorry, I just–”

“Why did you let that thing attack you! I saw you, you did nothing!”

“I just… I just froze up,” Rusl said quietly, so quietly that Talon almost didn’t hear him. Leon took in a deep breath, then let it out, calming himself down. He gave Talon a look and gestured to the injured man and Talon nodded.

“I’ll take care of him,” he said, stooping down to help Rusl up. Talon began walking him to a tent when Kass and Linebeck got back on the ground.

“Kass… don’t you… ever do that again!” Linebeck wheezed, his face a shade lighter than his usual tan complexion. Kass rolled his eyes.

“Well I’m sorry for saving your life. I thought that you’d be grateful that you wouldn’t be anywhere near the wolves.”

“I could’ve died!”

“Oh hush up, I wouldn’t have let you fall– oh!” Kass noticed the bloodied Rusl, and so did Linebeck. The sailor turned around and gagged as Kass covered his beak. “My, what happened here?”

“I-I’m fine,” Rusl stammered.

“Oh, I hope so,” Kass muttered, and watched the two farmers enter the largest tent, leaving Talon alone to do his work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rusl was quiet as Talon cleaned and wrapped up the wound, which was unusual for him. He was usually a chatterbox, especially if he was nervous. Talon figured he would break the silence, just to ease the tension in the room– or tent.

“So… how do ya feel?”

Rusl sighed heavily, seeming to be very annoyed at the question. “I’ve been better,” he put simply. Talon frowned, something eating him up on the inside.

“Look, Rusl, I don’t mean to rub salt in the wound or whatever but… you usually fight back whenever a monster attacks you. Why didn’t you fight the wolfos?”

Rusl’s frown melted into a guilty look, and he turned his head away. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh, ok,” Talon should’ve stopped talking there, but he wanted to know more. “Afraid of wolves or somethin’?”

“Don’t like fighting them.”

“Oh, ok.” The awkwardness felt like a heavy weight pressing down on his head, but for some reason, Talon pressed on. “Why?”

“... It’s complicated.”

Talon nodded and finally decided to stop pressing. He gave Rusl’s shoulder a small pat and got up. “Get some rest a’right? Don’t want ya hurting yourself anymore.”

“Ok…”

Talon sighed and turned to the tent door, before looking back at Rusl. He was staring blankly above him, barely moving at all.

“Hey, I don’t think that Leon is that mad at you.”

Rusl smiled slightly. “I know.”

“So don’t let his yappin’ get to you. I’m sure he’s just worried ‘bout you is all.”

“Heh, well, it’s fine. That’s not what’s bothering me.”

“Then what is it?”

Rusl lifted his head and gave Talon a look. Talon lifted his hands up defensively.

“No, sorry, lemme guess. It’s complicated?”

Rusl smiled and rested his head back on the pillow, and Talon smiled awkwardly.

“Well, I should go, I’m sure the others will want to know that you’re a’right,” he announced, and he looked behind him one last time before leaving, seeing Rusl’s smile gone again. Whatever was truly bothering Rusl, Talon only hoped that he could get over it. But he didn’t want to talk about it, so for now, he would be left alone on the matter.

[amiharana]

Wait if Revali was in an idol group who else would be in it and what would their debut song be, plus theme?? Like would it be the rito like Teba Harth etc or would it be like a mix of people (like Teba and sidon and others etc etc) plus what would their name be just curious… or revs positions you know the drill

u know now that i think about it oomfie i think u were the one who was putting newjeans on my dashboard a couple weeks back i should have known u were a kpopper 🤣 also kpop idol positions are always the strangest thing to me so i had to do a little review LMAO

if you wanna be fr, revali wouldn't want to be in an idol group at all, he wanted to be a soloist. but the managers were like no you would do good in a group, debut in a group first and we'll talk about solo later if you're successful enough. so revali fucking hates all these other guys but he is a good asf actor and is so good at delivering fanservice y'all would have never thought he was praying on his bandmates' downfalls KDJFJKDFK i wouldn't have been surprised if it was actually revali tipping off dispatch to give the others scandals

revali is the main vocalist and dancer the maknae LMAO (transl: youngest) of the group RiTO which stands for "Rising To Own", which refers to the group's belief that if "the sky is limit", they must rise higher to break the limit and go beyond it in order to own their true selves. i think it would be funny if since the word is "rising", fans debate on whether to pronounce the acronym as "ree-to" or "rai-to" and even years after the group's debut, people are still fighting online about how to pronounce it. then you got some freaks who say each letter out loud or straight up skip over the "i" to say RTO. RiTO fans are called "ownwings" because they are the wings that allow the group to rise and break the limit, as well as being encouragement to the fans to use their own wings to fly up and achieve lofty dreams together with RiTO. was that kpop-y enough LMFAO i should be a kpop ceo fr fr

the other members of the group include members leader and main rapper teba, lead rapper lead dancer harth, lead vocalist and visual kass, and leader dancer sub vocalist mimo. ages from oldest to youngest goes as mimo, kass, teba-harth (same year teba is older), and then revali. kass is the face of the group, revali and teba switch between being centers a lot, and revali is their all-rounder. i mentioned having to review kpop positions bc shit like "main" vs "lead" always confuses me, so for my non-kpop mutuals, you can refer to this article for more in-depth explanations.

my instinct was to say that they do a "refreshing" concept ASTRO-style because the rito=birds=air=refreshing, but like... do you Really think teba, harth, revali, and mimo could do your standard run-of-the-mill kpop refreshing concept LMFAOKDJFDK

teba and harth's generally gruff and cold-shoulder personalities throw me off trying to come up with ideas for this, because imagining them as kpop idols is so fucking funny. these guys are the dads who will drop their kids off at the TWICE concert grumpy asf as if they're not going home blasting FEEL SPECIAL in the car like ✋😭 (they would never admit it out loud, but teba's bias is jihyo because he respects how long she was a trainee to achieve her dream and harth's is jeongyeon because he likes how her tomboyish charm sets her apart from the rest of the group).

so just because canonically 4/5 of the group are older dilf characters (yes i think mimo is a dilf), i would say their debut concept at the very least would be something that's dark/mature/sexy? i'm thinking they're gonna do something like a kingsman concept bc i feel like that fits their vibe. like iirc the movie 'kingsman' was super popular in south korea so maybe that's what makes them skyrocket in popularity. RiTO debuts with a fresh gentlemen-spy concept and the music video has a story that eventually becomes full-scale lore throughout the rest of their music.

i mentioned revali being a hating ass little bitch when he has to debut in a group but also consider him being like 16-17 while the other members are 18-21 already. these guys are older than him in an industry that is known to be extremely competitive, full of rivalries and harmful health habits that could crush revali if he's not quick or clever enough :( he's just a baby in this industry tbh. so — and stay with me here — i'm imagining teba being the leader and figuring out that revali is just constantly furious and irritated and seething because he wants to be a soloist and not in a group, so he dads revali a bit as his leader and tries to get to know him and get him to calm down. just revali and teba bonding 🥺 and revali eventually not being a hater anymore and slowly having more brotherly bonds with the other members. he becomes their little baby 🥹🤍 always mussing his hair up and giving him bear hugs and teasing him lightheartedly where revali scoffs and pushes them away, but inside he feels warm because he was an only child with parents who were always working.

imagining baby trainee revali who practices the choreo of their debut for hours until he collapses from exhaustion in the practice room, and teba comes in to tell him to go to sleep just as revali falls to the floor. teba immediately shouts for harth who's just down the hall and then goes running to revali to make sure he didn't hit his head or anything. the kid is sweaty and red-faced from how much he danced, completely conked the fuck out from how exhausted he is. harth comes and they carry him to his bed, and try to wake him up so revali can at least drink some water and see if he'll be able to wash up himself, and the whole experience is life-changing for revali because he's like. why did u do all this. and teba and harth are like ??? you're part of the team, we have to take care of each other? and you're the youngest... we have to take care of you especially. and revali is just wide-eyed and about to cry because what the hell. these people actually care about him??????

also manager kaneli and CEO valoo lmfaodkjfdkj. i'm torn between a couple of ideas for the company name because it's either like (1) RiTO is under 'TBNTH (Tabantha) Entertainment' which is a subsidiary of HEBRA Labels, (2) RiTO is under the company 'hebra ent.', OR (3) RiTO is under HEBRA ENT. which is a subsidiary of HYRULE CORPORATION. however for the last one, that would imply that were i to make link a kpop idol as well (😳), he would be in a company that is also a subsidiary to hyrule corp. not that it matters too much but i just think it would be funny if it was like. revali was from a Big 3 company whereas link was from an underdog company like bighit when it first started out. or maybe it does start like that and link's company becomes a subsidiary under one of the other Big 3 companies (Hyrule Corp, TWILI Industries, and TeRMiNA Labels?). i considered also doing something like RiTO being under [company named after hebra/tabantha] which is a subsidiary of [corporation label named after wind waker dragon roost island] but idk.

i'm not gonna go too into link's presence or revalink's relationship here unless you request it since you only asked about revali and i wanna keep the focus on him for this post 😭 but i think kpop idol!link OR fan!link would be very interesting for this au. like what about link who goes from fan to idol p1harmony-keeho style 😭 imagine if link was making tweets about revali like that one busanwings tweet before becoming an idol LIKE DKJFHDKJFHJDF

if link is only just a kpop idol, then him and revali are for SURE getting into dispatch dating rumor scandals. (for non-kpop oomfs, dispatch is a news company notorious in south korea for stalking kpop idols and dishing out scandals on them frequently). it'll be some stupid shit like "H3RO's Link was seen exiting the Slippery Falcon Cafe wearing a shirt similar to RiTO's Revali. Could it be the two idols are seeing each other?" because dating rumors have actually happened in kpop like that 😭

also consider them getting in a dating rumor, and where revali's managers are furious and revali doesn't want to be involved with this nugu, link is completely starry-eyed because revali is actually his idol and the reason why he pursued being an idol, and his company is actually thrilled because ahaha bad publicity is still publicity, right? especially if it has to do with one of the top groups out there right now!