#like he doesn't seem dangerous. he's just weird and unsettling

[oh-katsuki]

it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops

cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,

wc: 3.1k

nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.

frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.

he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.

you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.

you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.

"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."

"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."

"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."

nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.

"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."

"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.

"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."

"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."

nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.

you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.

you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.

you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.

one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.

"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.

nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.

"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."

"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."

you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"

"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."

nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.

you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.

nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."

"sorry," you say.

"don't be," he responds.

this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.

"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.

"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.

"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."

you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.

you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.

"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.

nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.

you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.

"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."

nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.

"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.

"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.

"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."

you shake your head, "you."

nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.

you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.

something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.

nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.

"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."

nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.

"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.

you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.

you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.

nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.

your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.

for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.

you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.

instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.

you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.

"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.

nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.

nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.

you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.

"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"

you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."

nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.

"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.

something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.

nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.

a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!

[thatcatangelwriter]

I think after her time at the spider society gwen can be very creepy at times, but like doesn't realize it or register it well.

Like she's gwen stacy. The cursed lover. The doomed girl. She is the face of thousands of corpses. The face of thousands of what ifs. A bittersweet dream. A constant longing.

Most of the time when people look at her they don't see her they see someone else. Her simply existing turns the entire society into a haunted house. She's a ghost, she's better off invisible and while I don't think it's intentional she gets pushed to the side a lot by most people I think Miguel, Jess and Peter might be the exception in this concept but even then its gets complicated due to her connection with Miles and eventually this kinda starts rubbing off in an unsettling way.

Gwen is implied to be very high ranking in the society. Jess calls her "her star pupil" and Lyla warned Gwen about the spot before Hobie and Pavitr. And Miguel's "You knew better, Gwen !" She justs seems to be a part of Miguel's gang of higher ups with Peter B and Jess and all that and considering the fact that she's been there for just a few months that's saying something.

I think Gwen took a lot of training and missions to prove herself, and maybe Miguel sent her on more missions to distract her from Miles and stuff. Hell he might have trained her along with Jessica at times which considering how stern they can be I wouldn't be suprised if this rubbed off on gwen who didn't really have anyone else besides Peter and Hobie. Like she has been Spider Woman more than gwen stacy at this point.

Speaking of Spider Woman, I think it's a good time to bring up how gwen's mental state gets fucked up around her identity as a superhero and how it plays into my idea of her being creepy thing. Because like Spider Woman is litteraly considered a murderer in her dimension and isn't very liked. And while yes its true that in most universes Spider Man has its haters. It's way worse in Gwen's dimension like in the comics she gets shocked when people thank her kinda bad. She has supporters but sadly the people who call her a monster are the most vocal. Like even her dad saw Spider Woman that way and even after finding out who she was still pulled a gun at her face so yeah.

Gwen already blames herself for Peter's death and general public opinion doesn't really help with leaving that guilt behind. She internalizes those things. So I think that do her deep internal feelings Gwen might be at times more ruthless and violent than your typical spider hero which can already be shocking especially in contrast to how graceful she can be as spider woman . I don't think she wants to be. But i think its just the internal intrusive thought "No matter what I do I am a monster why pull back ?" And with her whole canon event I think she might be prone to being reckless and throwing herself at danger and being the one to make the biggest sacrifice because hey she is already fated to die.

So yeah I think that at times when the stakes are high Gwen is one of the scariest spiders when she snaps. Like the treatment she received and internalized kinda jumps out and its not pretty at all. And even just in context of her not being in a mission i still think she can be cryptid looking because she kinda acts like she's invisible and just avoids being noticed due to all the peters around.

Like just imagine her beat up with a broken mask and all you see are her cold eyes and its weird because its almost like you have a dead person staring at you and in some ways that's exactly what it is. Or her accidentally scaring people because she's so quiet that they don't see her coming.

Just her looking like a dead girl walking and yeah maybe in a way she is but...it just looks to real and unsettling.

One last thing about this, Miles notices and hates every second of it. In fact I think all of her close friends hate it.

[greyskyflowers]

I really like the idea that Ichigo has always done some strange stuff, even before any of them had any idea about soul society.

Chad, Orihime, and Uryu (as well as Tatsuki, Keigo and Mizuiro) very much take the approach of don't say a fucking thing, leave him alone to anyone who looks like they may say something about it.

Ichigo makes a strange noise? They've figured out which noises are good ones and which ones are bad ones.

He's a little colder, distant, and sometimes a little cruel? Give him a little bit and he'll be fine again.

He gets a little too bright eyed during fights? Licks blood off his lips and sometimes off a wound? His nails look a little sharp and his teeth a little meaner? All good. He'll beat the shit out of someone, pace around a bit and be fine again.

Eats an unbelievable amount of food and still stays on the lean side of skinny? It's a metabolism thing.

Runs a little colder? He's great to sit by in the hot summer!

Gets a little distracted, looks at things and listen to noises that aren't there? That's normal, he's been able to see weird stuff his whole life!

Even after they all gain the ability see ghosts and that's obviously not what Ichigo is doing, they just tell people he's listening to and seeing ghosts.

Everyone else is a little confused by that but it's clear they're not going to get a real answer and tbh they're not sure they want one.

It's also important that they don't call too much attention to it. Ichigo doesn't seem to realize he does some of those things.

Like when someone pointed out the blood thing and he spent 20 minutes gagging and throwing up, tongue still stained rusty from the blood.

Or when someone mentioned the noises and he doesn't speak for days, quiet and withdrawn. And even now he cuts the noises off, biting them back and swallowing them down.

Or when people called him cruel, a thug, someone who wants to see others hurt, because he got into fight. He didn't fight back the next few times he got jumped, letting the hits land and taking it because the fear that he was all those things people said was stronger than any pain.

All the times he kept his mouth shut because someone joked about wolf teeth.

Or when he ripped his nails down until they bled so they weren't sharp enough to hurt anyone on accident.

Or when he kept his eyes down so no one could say he wore colored contacts to go with his "dyed" hair.

Orihime being so upset after the cookies she had given to someone, who made fun of a noise Ichigo made, had ended up bad! Oh no, oh gosh, how terrible that they got food poisoning! She's so sorry about that but there's a gleam to her eyes that has everyone backing off.

Chad disappearing and coming back with busted knuckles that go unnoticed, Ichigo focused on keeping his fingers curled into his palms and his mouth firmly shut.

Uryu ripping into some of the people who started rumors about Ichigo, channeling every cold and cruel part of him until several people are crying and no one dares say Ichigo's name for awhile.

Tatsuki throwing punches and Keigo attempting too, Mizuiro making things happen that no one can directly link back to him but everyone knows it's him.

Ichigo doesn't ask for a lot, but he gives a lot. Too much.

So, they can give him this. They will give him this. Let him do his odd, little quirks and they'll deal with anyone who tries to say anything.

💀

Shinigami are strange, strange enough that Ichigo blends in with them well, even though he's still sometimes a little strange for a shinigami.

Chad, Orihime, and Uryu are pleased that Ichigo fits in so well with all these new people, especially as they get to know them more.

Renji and Ikkaku are animalistic with too sharp teeth and a wild air to them.

Kenpachi is a monster wearing human skin.

Rukia, and her brother, have moments of cruelty and distance.

Unohana is something old and dangerous.

Kisuke is... unsettling, raises the hair on the back of their necks a little bit but Ichigo likes him. And as unnerving as he is, he's been very helpful.

Yoruichi has a mean streak in her that is very much like a cat batting around a dying mouse.

The visored are even worse.

The humans don't meet them until Ichigo after has already firmly included them in his ever growing group of important people.

The visored are unsettling in a way similar to Kisuke, but heavier. Something about them makes the little animal part of their brains sit up and take notice, the hairs on the backs of their necks standing up and they have to fight the urge to run.

But the visored are strange in the same way Ichigo is strange.

And they'll gives some bonus points to Kisuke and his, because they've never so much as batted an eyelash at Ichigo's more bizarre quirks.

The visored show off too sharp teeth in proud smiles and angry snarls.

They make odd noises between themselves and understand them.

They force people to look them in the eyes, black and gold occasionally making an appearance.

They lick at their wounds absent-mindedly and on purpose.

They make no apologies for who they are or how uncomfortable they make anyone.

More than anything though, they let Ichigo do those things. There a fondness to all of them when Ichigo does something strange front of them. Something that's normal to them.

💀

Ichigo doesn't seem to realize that everyone is actually charmed by his little quirks.

He's saved most of them enough times that there isn't much he could do that would make them anything less then incredibly fond.

It's fun and interesting to see all the things Ichigo does when he's happy and comfortable.

He does a little head tilt, exposed throat move to certain people. The humans don't even think he notices it, it took them awhile to notice it.

He does it to most of the captains, excluding a few like Mayuri and Soi Fon. Particularly to Unohana, Kenpachi, Byakuya and Toshiro for the captains. He does it to Kisuke and the visored.

They notice it and they just roll with it. Kisuke and Shinji (and most of the visored to be completely honest) touch his neck and shoulders a lot.

Unohana makes the smallest nod to him and never acknowledges it again.

It took Ichigo a long time to be comfortable enough with them to touch as much as he wants to. After they saved Rukia and returned home, he was constantly touching them. Grabbing at hands, throwing arms around them, sitting close enough to touch, etc. He even includes Tatsuki, Keigo and Mizuiro in the new, open affection.

He's comfortable enough to be that way with a lot of people now.

Shinigami, and the visored, are actually a pretty tactile and intimate bunch. Living as long as they do and having such dangerous and traumatic lives, makes touch and comfort very important.

So it's not uncommon for Ichigo to disappear, finding someone to nap with or someone finding him. People are already drawn to Ichigo, getting to know him and all his quirks just makes them love him more.

---------💀--------------💀‐----------------

*holds up photo of Ichigo*

Karin, Yuzu, Chad, Orihime, Uryu, Tasuki, Keigo, Mazuri: he is baby

*hold up photo of Ichigo after fighting Aizen*

His sisters, the humans, Kisuke, Yoruichi, Kukaku, Ganju, most of soul society, all the visored, Nel: baby

*holds up photo of Ichigo fighting yhwach*

His sisters, the humans, Kisuke, Yoruichi, Kukaku, Ganju, all of soul society, all the visored, Nel, Grimmjow, Dondochakka, Pesche, Bawabawa : ba~by

[armpirate]

RED || Jungkook | Ch. 3

MASTERLIST Previous ||  Next

Pairings: Demon!Jungkook x fem!reader  

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, fantasy, past life

Warnings: Explicit language, mention of death and suicide, demonology, violence, rough sex

Summary: Y/n thought her life couldn't get worse after losing her parents in a tragic accident. Years after, she's aware of everyone moving forward, while she's in the same place, isolated and alone. She struggles to find meaning in a world that seems indifferent to her grief. Desperate for comfort, to feel the deep connection she had been missing, she starts the manifestation, expecting an inoffensive entity to walk with her that rough path. What she doesn't know is that she awoke the mysterious entity tied to an old necklace around her neck.

Jungkook, a mysterious and seductive figure, appears in her life, offering the company she craves. But as his presence grows stronger, so does the unsettling sense that there's more to him -and the necklace- than meets the eye, unfolding all the reasons that took him to that place.

Now, as the past bleeds into the present, Y/n must fight with her growing feelings for the demon who seems familiar yet dangerous. Jungkook is determined to reclaim his power, but in doing so, he may doom Y/n once again. Bound by fate, the two are locked in a dangerous mix of love, redemption, and the looming threat of destruction. 

Will they break the curse that has haunted them both, or will history repeat itself with devastating consequences?

Chapter duration: 13 minutes

The apartment felt eerily quiet as Y/n pushed open the door. Tossing her bag onto the couch, she let out a tired sigh and rubbed her temples. The day had been long, and all she wanted was a quiet evening to unwind.

But as she stepped into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, a strange sensation prickled at the back of her neck. Something felt... off.

Her gaze fell on the small table near the window where she always left her necklace after when she was about to take a shower. Only now, the necklace wasn't there. Frowning, she scanned the area. "Maybe I moved it and forgot," she thought, though unease tugged at her. She found it a moment later, lying neatly on the counter, a spot she rarely used.

—That's... weird —she muttered, slipping it back around her neck and shaking off the feeling.

The flickering started that evening as she walked down the hallway toward her bedroom. The overhead light buzzed faintly before dimming, plunging the hallway into brief darkness. She froze mid-step, her breath catching in her throat, until the light sputtered back to life.

—This old ass building... —she whispered to herself, though her voice sounded hollow in the empty space.

When she reached the part of her studio where her bed lied, she set her phone on the nightstand and turned to change into something comfortable. That's when she heard it: soft, indistinct murmurs, like someone whispering in another room. She turned sharply, her heart pounding.

—Hello? —she called out, her voice trembling.

The whispers stopped abruptly, replaced by an oppressive silence. She swallowed hard and took a cautious step forward, peering around the corner into the living room. Nothing.

Grabbing her phone for comfort, she tried to call Mark. The screen lit up, but the image of his contact was distorted, his face stretched and pixelated like a glitching video. A sudden burst of static crackled through the speaker, making her drop the phone with a startled yelp.

The phone landed face down on the floor. As she bent to pick it up, the screen flickered back to normal, showing her home screen as if nothing had happened.

Y/n sat on the edge of her bed, clutching the phone tightly. Her pulse was racing, and the unease she'd been trying to dismiss all day had now grown into full-blown paranoia.

Just then, a faint chill crept into the room, raising goosebumps on her arms. She glanced toward the window, but it was shut tight. The necklace around her neck suddenly felt heavier, almost like it was pulling her downward.

Her hands trembled as she touched it, her breath catching when the metal felt unnaturally warm, almost hot. She yanked her hand away and stared at the pendant. It lay there, innocently gleaming in the weak light of her lamp, as if nothing were amiss.

Y/n shook her head, forcing a nervous laugh.

—I'm overthinking. That's all —she whispered, though she didn't believe it—. Probably... if I get some proper sleep...

As she lay in bed that night, the faint whispers returned, drifting just on the edge of her hearing. She buried herself under the covers, clutching her necklace tightly, and prayed for sleep to come.

But sleep didn't bring peace. Only more shadows and whispers, only more paranoia and tension she couldn't confirm whether she liked or hated.

The dream began like a flickering memory, hazy and disjointed. Y/n stood in the middle of an empty street, the air heavy with a suffocating stillness. The cobblestones beneath her feet were uneven, and the buildings that lined the street loomed ominously, their wooden shutters creaking despite the absence of wind.

She glanced around, her breaths shallow. The sky above was a murky gray, with no sun or moon to guide her. The faint sound of laughter rippled through the air, distant yet chilling, like the echoes of a life long gone.

—Again? —she whispered, but her voice sounded hollow, as though the world had swallowed it whole.

Her feet moved on their own, pulling her forward. Shadows flitted along the edges of her vision, disappearing whenever she turned to look. The laughter grew louder, mingling with faint footsteps that seemed to mirror her own.

She stopped in front of a house she recognized from her previous dream: a small, traditional building with its paper-covered windows glowing faintly. Her stomach twisted with unease. The house seemed alive, its presence pulsating like a living being.

The door creaked open before she could reach for it, revealing the familiar corridor. The walls were darker this time, the wood warped and rotting, and the faint glow at the end seemed to pulsate in rhythm with her heartbeat.

Y/n hesitated, but the whispers started again, louder now, urging her forward. She clenched her fists and stepped inside.

The corridor stretched endlessly, every step she took amplifying the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. The whispers grew louder, overlapping and indistinct, like a thousand voices speaking at once. Her chest tightened as she reached the door to the room.

Inside, the light was sporadic, dim beams flickering like fireflies. The faint illumination revealed glimpses of a figure on the bed. Y/n's breath hitched as the shadows danced over him, revealing bare glimpses of his form: a strong hand resting on a knee, the curve of a sharp jawline, and lips curled into an almost-smile.

—Come in —the voice said, smooth and deep, but laced with something darker, something that sent a chill down her spine.

She stepped forward, the flickering lights casting fleeting glimpses of his face. His features were sharper now, his dark eyes glinting with an intensity that was both captivating and terrifying. His lips moved into a smirk, one that dripped with seduction yet hinted at something predatory.

—You called me —he said, his voice a low purr that seemed to echo in her bones—. And I've come. Don't run now.

Y/n's knees felt weak as she stood frozen, his gaze locking onto hers. His eyes weren't just dark, they were endless, pulling her into an abyss she couldn't escape. His voice was hypnotic, lulling her into a dangerous sense of calm even as every instinct in her body screamed to flee.

—I... I didn't mean... —she stammered, but he was suddenly closer, though she hadn't seen him move.

His hand reached out, stopping just short of touching her face.

—Oh, but you did —he murmured, his voice soft yet menacing—. You invited me. You opened the door. And now...

The lights dimmed further, leaving only his face illuminated by the faint glow. His smile widened, revealing teeth that were just a little too sharp.

—...you're mine.

The room plunged into darkness, and Y/n jolted awake with a scream, her body drenched in sweat. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, her heart racing as though she'd been running for her life.

But even in the safety of her room, the feeling of his eyes on her lingered, as though the dream hadn't truly ended.

She was scared, or so she wanted to convince herself that should be the normal reaction, but his voice, his gaze, his lips... everything in him kept pulling her closer, to go on.

The morning sunlight streamed through Y/n's apartment window, but it did little to chase away the chill that clung to her skin. She sat at her desk, absentmindedly scrolling through her laptop as her coffee grew cold beside her.

Her mind kept replaying the nightmare, that deep voice echoing in her ears. You called me... and I've come. She shook her head, trying to push the thought away.

By the time she met Mark and Anthony at the campus cafeteria, the sense of unease had settled into her chest like a weight. She glanced around nervously as she sat down, scanning the room for something, she wasn't even sure what.

—You okay? —Mark asked, raising an eyebrow as he stirred his coffee.

—Yeah —Y/n replied quickly, forcing a smile—. Didn't sleep well, that's all.

Anthony frowned, leaning forward.

—You've been on edge all week. Is something going on?

—No, I'm fine —she insisted, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear—. Really.

The words tasted hollow even as she said them. She knew they didn't believe her, but thankfully, they didn't press further.

Later, as she walked home, the feeling intensified. It started as a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, the unmistakable feeling of being watched. She glanced over her shoulder, but the street behind her was empty.

Her pace quickened, the sound of her own footsteps echoing louder than they should. She rounded a corner and stopped in front of a shop window, catching her reflection in the glass.

But it wasn't just her.

A shadow loomed behind her reflection, its form indistinct but unmistakable. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she spun around, only to find... nothing.

Her breathing was ragged as she turned back to the window. The shadow was gone, but the image of it burned in her mind.

"Calm down. You're imagining things," she told herself, gripping the strap of her bag tightly.

By the time she reached her apartment, her paranoia had spiraled. She avoided mirrors entirely, leaving the bathroom light off as she splashed water on her face.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, and she picked it up, hoping for a distraction. The screen lit up, but instead of the message notification she expected, her phone's reflection in the dark glass caught her eye.

There it was again: the shadow. This time, it was closer, looming over her reflection like a predator.

She dropped the phone with a gasp, the device clattering loudly on the countertop. Her heart raced as she backed away, her hands trembling.

The phone screen flickered once before returning to normal, the shadow gone as if it had never been there.

She pressed her back against the wall, her knees threatening to give out. The whispers from her dream came rushing back, haunting her with their taunting familiarity.

—What the fuck is going on? —she whispered to herself, clutching the pendant of her necklace tightly.

The apartment was quiet, the kind of silence that felt unnaturally heavy. Y/N sat curled up on her couch, the soft glow of her phone screen illuminating her anxious face. She scrolled aimlessly, trying to distract herself from the nagging sense of unease that had been building all day.

Then she heard it.

—Y/n...

Her name, spoken in a deep, resonant voice, echoed softly through the room. She froze, her fingers hovering above the phone screen. The voice wasn't loud, but it was distinct: rich and smooth, like a caress and a threat rolled into one.

She looked around, her heart pounding.

—Who's there? —she called, her voice trembling.

No answer. The air grew cold, biting against her skin. The lights dimmed, not flickering as they had before, but steadily fading until the room was bathed in shadows.

Her hand instinctively reached for her necklace, clutching the pendant tightly. A sharp, searing pain shot through her palm, and she yelped, dropping the necklace as if it had turned to fire. She stared at her reddened palm, her mind racing.

A shadow moved across the wall, darker and more solid than the dim light around it. It glided unnaturally, stopping just behind her.

—You can't ignore me —a voice whispered, soft but chillingly close.

She whipped around, her breath hitching. The room was empty, but her reflection in the window caught her attention. Her wide-eyed, terrified gaze stared back at her, the shadows behind her stretching unnaturally in the glass.

Her knees threatened to buckle, and she stumbled back, her pulse thundering in her ears.

—Leave me alone —she whispered, barely audible, as she backed into the corner of the room.

But the room remained silent, the air thick with a presence she couldn't see but could feel down to her bones.

The next morning, Y/n sat cross-legged on her bed, her laptop open in front of her. The videos she'd watched before, the ones about manifestations and entities, played again, their voices a stark contrast to the fear twisting in her chest.

She scribbled notes furiously, replaying certain parts.

With trembling hands, she lit a candle on her bedside table and clasped her hands together.

—I'm sorry —she began, her voice breaking—. If I... if I did anything to upset you or call you here, I didn't mean it. Please... just go. Leave me alone. You weren't what I wanted.

The candle flickered violently, and the air seemed to grow heavier. She waited, her breath held, but nothing changed.

She moved to the kitchen and gathered salt, forming a crude circle in her living room. Standing in the center, she whispered prayers, words she hadn't said in years, her voice growing louder with desperation.

—Please —she begged, tears stinging her eyes—. Just leave me alone! —her eyes were close to bursting into tears.

The room responded with a low hum, barely audible, but it vibrated through her body. The whispers returned, louder now, overlapping in an unintelligible murmur that seemed to mock her efforts.

The shadow appeared again, larger this time, stretching across the far wall. It lingered, shifting slightly, as though observing her.

Her hands trembled as she threw the salt toward the shadow.

—Go away! —she screamed.

The shadow didn't flinch. Instead, the whispers stopped abruptly, and a single, familiar voice filled the room.

—Did you really think it would be that easy?

Her blood ran cold, her legs giving out as she sank to the floor. She clutched the necklace again, but it burned just as it had before, forcing her to let it drop.

Y/n stared at the shadow, her heart racing. Every effort she made seemed to strengthen whatever had attached itself to her, and she realized, with a sinking dread, that she might not be able to stop it at all.

But it all went back to normal suddenly. Her heart stopped when light went back to their usual lightning, brightening the room, finding herself holding onto the wall as if that would be of use.

What if she was indeed going crazy?

The night had stretched into the early hours, and Y/n sat back in her bed, exhaustion pulling at her eyes. She glanced at her laptop, the videos she'd been watching paused, the faces of cheerful narrators frozen mid-smile. Their reassurances felt hollow now, as if they belonged to another world entirely.

"Maybe I just need sleep," she thought, her mind sluggish and her body tense. She pushed herself off the bed and headed to the bathroom, flipping on the light. The fluorescent bulbs buzzed faintly, their harsh glow casting stark shadows.

She took one quick shower, cleaning herself from any bad thoughts and negativity that could be making her see things where there was nothing. After a few minutes, she stepped outside, covering herself with a towel, and looked up at her reflection. Dark circles marred her eyes, and her expression was drawn tight with worry.

Then she saw it.

At first, it was faint, like a whisper forming on glass. But as she stared, letters began to take shape in the condensation on the mirror, appearing stroke by deliberate stroke, as if written by an unseen hand.

Y o u ' r e m i n e

Her breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening painfully. She stumbled back a step, her gaze locked on the words. They glistened as if freshly drawn, mocking her.

—No —she whispered, shaking her head—. This isn't real.

But the mirror didn't lie. The words stared back at her, unyielding and final.

She turned, her instinct screaming at her to run. But the moment she moved, she felt it, a chilling breath against the back of her neck. It was impossibly cold, sending shivers cascading down her spine.

And then, his voice.

Deep, smooth, and uncomfortably close.

—We're only just beginning —she could feel his smirk against her nape—. You can deny me. You can run and hide... But it won't change a thing. You belong to me now. You'll be the one begging for me to ruin you.

She spun around, her heart hammering against her ribs, but there was no one there. The bathroom was empty, silent except for her ragged breathing.

Her eyes darted back to the mirror. The words were still there, but now the condensation began to drip, distorting them until they dissolved entirely.

Panic surged through her, and she bolted from the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. She pressed her back against it, her hands trembling.

In the oppressive silence, the weight of the words echoed in her mind.

You're mine.

She clutched her necklace, the pendant now ice-cold against her skin, as tears pricked at her eyes. Sleep would not come that night, and deep down, she knew: it was only the beginning.

[longitudinalwaveme]

How to Distinguish the Mirror Masters

So on Reddit, I saw a post that asked how the two Mirror Masters should be distinguished from one another if they were to be used in the same story. Here's what I came up with:

Sam Scudder, the first Mirror Master, is flamboyant, dramatic, and vain. He loves fame and is always angling for it, and his crimes are frequently centered on getting as much attention as possible.  He almost views himself as the lead actor in a movie series about him; he's always trying to come up with interesting stories about himself and trying on variations of his basic Mirror Master role---pretending to be a superhero, taking a self-help course as a regular guy, turning his enemy into a genie in a bottle, live-action role-playing as a cowboy, and even once casting himself as a romantic lead. While he likes money and really likes stealing fancy mirrors for his extensive collection, ultimately fame is most important to him.

In some ways, Sam kind of parallels Barry insofar as they both seem to kind of living out childhood fantasies (Barry is a huge comic book nerd and idolized the Jay Garrick Flash, while Sam was explicitly stated to be a huge fan of cowboy movies in the issue where he disguised himself as an Old West outlaw for a bit.) I think if I was writing the character, I would make this connection a bit more explicit, and have Sam also be a fan of the Golden Age heroes, with the Mirror Master persona being a twisted mirror image of his childhood heroes. 

One side effect of this is the fact that Sam doesn't have any real personal hatred of Barry. He'll do the standard supervillainous death traps and the like, but on some level he enjoys having the Flash around. After all, the Mirror Master looks much cooler fighting the Flash than he would effortlessly avoiding the police.

On the same tack, Scudder almost never endangers civilians, since doing that would interfere with his fantasy life as an over-the-top comic book supervillain. 

Sam is also the genius of the two Mirror Masters. He's the one who invented all the technology and discovered the Mirror Realm, and he's always coming up with new inventions. He's probably the most scientifically inclined of all the Rogues, but he specializes in reflections and advanced physics. I don't generally think of him as having had a lot of education, but he is extremely intelligent.

Scudder is something of a pretty boy; he's extraordinarily vain and spends an inordinate amount of time fixing his perfect hair and looking at himself in the mirror.

Sam is also superstitious (he seems to fervently believe that breaking mirrors is bad luck, which is unfortunate given his gimmick) and can't swim. He's also a chain smoker; he goes through four cigarettes every hour. 

Evan McCulloch chases anonymity as much as Scudder chases fame. After his traumatic childhood and his role in the death of his parents, he wants to be anyone BUT Evan McCulloch, and the Mirror Master is a convenient role for him to disappear into. He doesn't really want to establish himself as separate from Scudder (though his accent and somewhat burlier physique make it somewhat inevitable that most people don't mistake the two of them). In a sense, being the Mirror Master is an escape hatch for him...just as his cocaine addiction is.  

 Evan is a deeply weird individual on many levels. He has a strange sense of humor and a strange moral compass, and he seems to take some enjoyment out of how much he unsettles other people. When interacting with heroes, he's generally quite chipper and genial, something that stands in stark contrast to the lengths he's willing to go to in order to get what he wants. He bears no malice towards the heroes he fights, but he also has very little restraint in fighting them.

Evan is far more dangerous, brutal, and unhinged than Scudder; he was, after all, a hit man prior to becoming the Mirror Master. He also uses the Mirror Realm far more effectively than Scudder does, partially because he's less worried about the potential risks involved in spending time in such a bizarre reality, and partially due to a natural aptitude for navigating it. He is not an inventor, and indeed struggles to understand and repair the technology he uses, but he is more than competent in wielding it.   

Evan does have something of a sentimental streak. He always sends a portion of his ill-gotten gains to the orphanage where he was raised, and he refuses to kill children (Grant Morrison, who created the character, established early on that Evan had a policy against killing women and children, and it's always been a little frustrating that most subsequent writers have abandoned it). But making the mistake of assuming that his sentimentality makes him any less dangerous might very well be the death of you, since Evan has no compunctions about killing generally.   

Evan is exceptionally powerful; indeed, he's something of a Lovecraftian horror. He can go anywhere, attack anyone from anywhere at almost any time, and can launch those attacks without even having to leave the Mirror Realm himself. He's almost untouchable when he wants to be.  

Oh, and Evan is Scottish. He's very, very Scottish (more specifically, Glaswegian), and he takes great amusement from the fact that the Americans around him often have no idea what he's saying.

In terms of physically distinguishing the two, I would have Evan be a bit more built than Sam. He also has much messier hair when the cowl is off, and has freckles and a gap between his two front teeth, which Sam does not possess. Both have brown hair and brown eyes, but Evan's hair has a reddish tinge to it and his eyes are more hazel, whereas Sam's hair and eyes are more pure brown. Finally, I would have them be mirror images of each other in terms of handedness, with Scudder being left-handed and McCulloch being right-handed. 

I would also have Scudder be quite a bit older than McCulloch, with Scudder being 41 to 45 years old and McCulloch being 26 to 33. 

Also, importantly, the primary distinguishing trait between the two is not that Sam is boring. For some reason, there's this common idea in the wider Flash fandom that McCulloch is the only Mirror Master to really have a personality, but that's actually pretty far from the case. Prior to Crisis on Infinite Earths, Sam was probably the most dynamic and interesting of all the Flash's villains, and he was also very popular, as illustrated by the fact that he appeared more often than any other costumed villain, as well as the fan response he got in the letter columns of the day.

For example, in Flash vol. 1 #130 (published in 1962), someone wrote in with the results of a poll they took in their neighborhood:

And in this very long letter from Flash vol. 1 #174 (published in 1967), the writer identifies Mirror Master as his favorite Flash villain:

Granted, Sam doesn't have the depth or complexity of the characters who either survived into or were created in the modern era (since he was dead for almost all of it), but he definitely had a character, and he was a lot of fun.

And then they brought him back in the New 52 and he really WAS boring. But that wasn't because classic Sam had no personality to work with, it's because the writers made him a less interesting version of the Top, and then made him Evan-in-all-but-name-and-accent.

And while we're on the subject of badly-written Mirror Masters, it's very frustrating that DC brought Evan out of his decade-long limbo only to apparently shunt him back into limbo about a year later---especially since it's really, really clear that Evan is the Mirror Master most writers actually want to write about.

It honestly feels like DC thinks that the ideal Mirror Master is the hybrid version. They want the Mirror Master to have Evan's eldritch horror powers and general human disaster personality, but since Evan's Glasgow accent is hard to write and the details of how he got the Mirror Technology require them to acknowledge that there are two Mirror Masters, they use Sam's civilian identity because he isn't Scottish and invented the gear himself. As someone who's a fan of both Mirror Masters, this is very frustrating.

Thanks to @gorogues for the scans.

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Warnings: yandere characters; stalking; violence;

  Uhh Yandere!Alex and Yandere!Hoodie fixating on the same person.

  Alex who used to be your college buddy. You would catch up with each other pretty often while talking about your respective projects. You actually grew to enjoy his company, hearing about his ambitions for his movie.

  But then one day he just... Disappears. You don't even hear of where he could have possibly gone. For as sad as you felt, you also assumed he just moved on. Maybe he thought you weren’t that close of friends and, either way, it's not that uncommon for someone to suddenly realise that their chosen path during college no longer works for them.

  And then, years later, with no warning; he shows up at your door.

  You were hoping to catch up with an old friend, relieved that he seemed to be okay after so long. Perhaps even a bit too relieved, as you didn't even question how he knew where to find you. But your enthusiasm was not unfounded, as it seems that a lot of people who you knew from back then had just simply vanished or moved on without as much as saying a word. You were craving a familiar face.

  But instead, he starts giving you vague warnings and insists on telling you strange stories. You always knew he had a bit of a flair for theatrics and a certain brand of "insightfulness" he liked to share, quirks of him being a film student, you always joked. But he was acting strange.

  He starts showing up more than he should. Knocking at your door during late hours of the night, insisting that you were in danger, growing irritable when you refused to listen to his unsettling rants.

  You start to feel sick. And you swear that whenever he's with you, it worsens. A particular bad incident was when a coughing fit left you on the ground, spitting out blood, while Alex did nothing but observe you as it happened. Only after you were done that he crouched to your level, an unreadable expression as he rested his hand on your back. 

  You actively start to avoid him after that.

  But he doesn't let up, somehow always finding you wherever you went, even after you left home and started spending nights at random places.

  "You're not hard to track down." He tells you. "It's like you're not even trying." It almost feels like mocking, but his tone sounds so dull, bordering on uninterested. His eyes tell you a different story though, the way looks at you.

  Eventually, you think you lose him. Days go by, you're far from home, and you haven't seen or heard from him since. You almost let yourself believe it's over.

  But then you receive a small, strange package at the doorstep of the place you're currently staying, containing only a single video tape. You immediately assume it's from Alex, due to him being weirdly obsessed with recording things ever since working on that film of his, and also because that entire situation with him still being very fresh on your mind. Who else would it be from?

  Curiosity takes over, you watch it. And it wasn't from Alex, you quickly realise. The tape showed a clearly candid recording of you and him talking. More specifically, from the last conversation you had with him before you finally managed to get him off your tracks. Both of you were completely unaware of what was happening. The recording abruptly cuts, only to show a message written over a picture of someone standing outside one of the windows of your house, taken yet again from a candid angle.

  "Careful of who you let inside."

  Ever since this, you became acutely aware of how that feeling of being watched wasn't even just from Alex, someone else had been following you around. Recording you, knowing where you lived and where you went. You could be in danger.

  Alex was right.

  You try your best to ignore it, desperate to delude yourself into believing that maybe Alex just has a weird vendetta against you and all of this is his doing. You throw the tape away and move places yet again in the middle of the night, hoping that this time you were truly alone.

  It's when you start seeing it from a distance everywhere you went that you start to feel like you’re losing it. More than you already were beforehand, at least. You swear that someone is following you around, someone who you're pretty sure isn't Alex, and it starts to become impossible to feign indifference any longer.

  You had to confront Alex. He knew something was going on and now more than anything rational, you wanted answers.

  When you call him in a panic, he responds with an eerie calmness. Like none of this was fazing him, instead like he expected you to call him. He tells you that you can come back to him, that he can help you, that he can keep that freak in the mask away from you.

  You hadn't told him yet. About the person you had seen multiple times far away but always in your vicinity, always wearing the same stark yellow hoodie and with a strangely obstructed face. You hadn't told him. So how? How did he know?

  He tells you to come back to your house. And feeling completely lost, you do.

  When you get there, he welcomes you with an uncharacteristic warmth. But it's weirdly tainted by his rather smug tone, the attitude of someone who thinks himself in control of the situation. Of course you would come back to him.

  He advises you to stay and to let him stay inside as well. And you do, once again desperate for some sort of familiarity and safety.

  Later that night, you awake to the sound of a gunshot.

  There's a high pitch sound like it was trying to deafen you, one that your brain was screaming that it couldn't have come from whatever firearm you just heard. You don't even have time to grasp at the nature of the T h i n g standing at the end of the corridor when you scrambled to leave your room, no more than you could focus on the fact that Alex was currently in a violent struggle against... A person in a yellow hoodie...? The one who's been following you around. 

  Alex's assailant snaps his head to look in your direction, finally giving you a close up look at the strange mask that has been haunting you for months now.

  Before you even get to fully process the scene in front of you, he lets go of Alex, but not before leaving him wrenching in pain and kicking away the gun from his reach, and directs his full attention to you. Alex yells out to you and you hear a ragged voice come from under the mask at the same time, echoing each other.

  Run.

  He grabs you by the arm and starts to run out of the house with you in tow, you being too scared and desperate to leave this place to even fight him off. You did not want to stick around Alex or whatever else was now inhabiting your home.

  Luckily, or maybe not so much considering everything up until this point, where you live is very close to a forested area. And of course your "saviour" wastes no time in getting you both as lost as possible in the middle of the woods, as far away from Alex as possible, who was still screaming out your name.

  He manages to get you pretty deep into the woods before you finally snap out of it, realising that letting this guy guide you any further into... Wherever he's going will end just as badly as what was happening back there.

  But your sudden urge to split from him only resulted in yet another physical struggle, him seemingly unwilling to just let you go. You could barely even see in the dark just illuminated by moonlight, but it didn't take a clear line of sight to recognize the sound of a switch blade or to feel the cold steel of it resting near your neck. Everything abruptly stops, an uncomfortable moment of silence stretching for what felt like far too long.

  You break the silence, shakily asking him who even is he? And does he want, what has he wanted all this time he's been following you?

  And he laughs.

  When you hear it, it finally hits you. A feeling of realisation and nostalgia engulfs you and you're left speechless. When he lifts his mask just enough to see his uneven smile, your stomach drops. 

  You really know how to choose your friends, don't you? Even your old buddy, you'd assumed to be long gone and who's now threatening you with a knife isn't even the worst choice. Might as well stick with him over that lunatic with a gun, right?

  Not like you have much of a choice.

[raelle-writing]

Jin and the Dichotomy of Cowardice and Bravery

Yes I know the title is esoteric, bear with me. I've been thinking a lot about how in episode one, Jin calls himself a coward when he's talking to Phee.

It's possible he was saying that just to get Phee to leave him alone, but honestly he seems to believe it. And he certainly has some avoidance tactics. Running off to the US and never coming back isn't the healthiest of coping mechanisms. And we still don't know exactly what he's running from. Phee? What happened to Non? His friends who don't seem to care much about him? All of the above?

It seems that Jin self-identifies as a coward, which is interesting because when he's put in stressful situations and danger, he acts in an extremely brave manner. He doesn't show any signs of hiding or running away when faced with danger.

When they find Por in the woods, Jin is one of the first people to go up and check on him, instead of pausing/freezing and freaking out like many of the others. He and Phee are the ones who wrangle the others to help Por, and find the saw.

Throughout the next episodes, Jin is one of the ones trying to keep people on track. He seems relatively calm in the face of all of it, and focused on trying to get them out/get them help.

He's also the one most willing to help the newbies investigate the weird stuff happening, instead of shutting them out like a lot of the others from the original group. He's the one who stops Tee from destroying the tape, jumping into a fight without second thought.

He's also the one who goes out first to lift the shirt off Deng's body, and then later goes back to cover it with a sheet when the others are unsettled by it.

And throughout all of this, he's the one who comforts the others when they need it, and offers them physical reassurance when they're freaking out.

He's also one of the ones Tan calls for when he comes back injured, and he's one of the ones Phee asks to come help him look for Top after he's gone missing. He's clearly someone the others see as a really steady presence, since he seems to be top of mind when things go to hell.

Jin is also not at all hesitant to go into the temple. He's the one Tan clings to, clearly afraid when they enter. He's freaked out when the ghost attacks him, but doesn't run. In fact he checks on Tan before the ghost swings the ax at him.

He talks about being scared when he's in the coffin with Phee, but that's after he's already done so many brave things...

All of this makes me wonder - why does Jin see himself as a coward? Is it because he didn't stand up to his friends more about Non? Is it because he's running from things with Phee? Is there something that happened in their past that makes Jin feel like a coward?

It's very interesting from the outside perspective, and makes me wonder even more about what happened in the past. Because we know something took away Jin's happy smile and turned him into someone much more dispassionate and snarky. But we still don't exactly know what.

We also don't know why, if Jin liked Non so much and didn't like how his friends treated him, Jin is still friends with all of the bullies. Maybe that's the core of why he thinks he's a coward.

I don't know if I have a concrete thought to complete this, I just find the dichotomy of how Jin sees himself, versus how he actually acts in the series. It's fascinating to see and adds a lot of depth to his character and I can't wait to see how he's developed further!

[honey-bell-aint-well]

Okay this is gonna be a weird one lol, like it's so bizarre what the heck, I can't stop laughing about it-- XD ..Hope it's not too weird though... ;-;

Anyway-

How would Fresh react if he possessed someone, and they, I don't know HOW, turned out to be the craziest freak imaginable, the jokes on you I'm into that shit kind, some kind of amoral masochist bored of life who doesn't mind having someone else in control of it, and is very much into whatever Fresh does to them?

[Reminder that nothing I say is canon, I just really like talking about Fresh! ^^]

If they were the kind of freak that Fresh would censor, then I think he'd avoid them altogether unless he was really desperate for a host. But if they hid it pretty well then he might not notice, at least until he decides to possess them.

...I tried saying my response normally, but I think I'm going to have to break out the graph for this. I apologize, I like graphs.

[Keep in mind that Fresh can't read the minds of his hosts. But depending on how close they are to being in control, their body will react accordingly to their will, very slightly. Such as changing the words on the sunglasses.]

1A: If they tried to hide it, Fresh probably wouldn't notice. And if they made something explicit appear on his sunglasses then they would be censored. A mild thing such as that isn't really worthy of a reaction, let alone him abandoning a perfectly healthy body.

1B: Again, if they tried to hide it then Fresh probably wouldn't notice. He would notice how easy it is to control the body, but he'd probably just chalk that up to the host being weaker than him.

1C: Same as the two above.

2A: It'd gross him out. I think he'd tolerate it, thinking of it as someone who really needs more Fresh and less unradical freaky-ness in their life. He'd censor as much as he can and would probably feel relieved when their soul weakens enough that he can't sense much from them anymore.

2B: He'd be confused on why someone would be so willing to give up their life, just like that. And the pain thing? He wouldn't understand why they seem to like it, because pain=danger and danger=potential death. And avoiding death is his priority above all else. He'd be baffled, but ultimately it wouldn't bother him that much. He'd write it off as just another weird thing some people do, and he would be glad that it results in easier control of the body.

2C: He would be very unsettled at their reaction to him. Even his very presence seems to make them react in unrad ways. He might try to tough it out, but the lack of pain and suffering and the unrad reactions would be enough to chase him out of the body, much like how alcohol wards off his parasites.

So basically, if you're the biggest freak you could possibly be then Fresh would avoid you whenever possible. *insert thumbs up emoji here*

Thank you for the question! ^^

[fandomscomefandomsgo]

Okay, so the latest chapter of Mieruko-Chan (Chapter 56) has set up three (3) things. There are spoilers in here, but this chapter was less big plot and more build up for characters and later plot.

1. Michiru and the Caterpillar Forest Spirit are still integrating

Michiru is still very Michiru, but the tentacles are goofy now. Probably because she doesn't feel like she has to be defensive or aggressive in having a friend, so the caterpillar forest spirit seems to have relaxed some. Why it's being so goofy is not yet seen but I'm not complaining. It looks like Michiru is still insecure of her place as Hana and Miko's friend (could be the cause for the goofy. She's trying to "unwind with friends"), and she's still adamant on Miko particular, but she's also interacting with Hana and is less forceful when Miko turns her down. Miko is also far less worried about the spirit (now that she knows what it is and Michiru's situation), and even considers the spirit a logical option for dangerous spirits, but isn't keen to bother Michiru with these situations. It's a process, Michiru with the group, and a good one to be seeing.

I also liked Zen-sensei's smile while seeing them goofing around. He definitely became a teacher with the mind to take notice of students in similar situations to him and act where and when he could, as we saw with Michiru's. Even if her situation was very different his "interference" was still needed. Michiru and You couldn't stay in a bubble forever.

2. The shadow

This was one of those suited shadows from the end of ch. 55. We aren't sure if these are spirits or something completely different.

These are clearly being built into an arc, but what they are for we don't yet know. These dudes and the main guy who seems very aware of Romm (and may be the Seto who Romm was going to contact but I've experienced a moment like this where characters you thought were built to be the same person turned out to be completely seperate). I'm wondering if these guys are attached to the caterpillar spirit story, cause it almost seemed like they were visiting the Caterpillar spirit's shrine which they found broken. However, I could be wrong and this is a completely different shrine. Maybe it could be linked towards Romm's near death experience we saw, or the as yet unresolved "WHAT THE HELL CAME OUT OF THE MOUNTAIN" from the end of the mountain shrine story, or something else entirely.

Altogether, they're around, they're probably going to be part of something important, and one is tailing Miko. Question is: Is it because she interacts with Michiru and the Caterpillar Spirit, or because she interacts with Romm? (And are they aware that she can see? That's a good question too, but I'm leaning towards "no and they'll just be mildly surprised she can".)

Initially when I saw the one tailing Miko, I thought it was another shape for the "photo guy" and have sense slapped my forehead realizing it wasn't. But I wonder if they might be something to get involved with the photo guy situation (I'm feeling very "each photo it appears in it grows closer" lurking death type). It did almost kill Romm after all and he's contemplating help from someone, but again I'm 50/50 on if it's actually the same person we saw in the manga.

3. Dad

On to our favorite household duo. Dad has shown he might not be around for an big reason, but he's definitely around to look after his family and that includes dangerous spirits that can latch onto and hurt the living. We have seen the first one actually capable of doing so, because it grabbed onto Kyoya with harmful intent.

A lot of people think that weird horse-dog looking ghost in the Yotsuya household may be another half of the dad, or it could be a guide for him in the way that creepy wheelchair dude that wheeled the recently deceased old man from the hospital away with his family. Either way, this entity has yet to be shown as dangerous (just unsettling for Miko) and the dad's ghost interacts with it casually. We also don't have a truely clear answer as to why dad or horse/dog spirit is still here.

However, in this chapter, we see dad is able to stand his ground against creepier entities, telling them clearly to leave, and the horse/dog acts as a sort of "guard dog" that will act if the problem doesn't back down.

Dad is sticking around to protect his family, and the other ghost is acting the same. We were lucky this spirit didn't seem to be

But, if I'm not mistaken, WE STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT ONE GHOST OUTSIDE THE DOOR THAT ONE NIGHT WAS. I thought it was going to be linked to Michiru and You, but, with retrospect, I'm wondering if it was only imitating You. Knock and say a thing to get someone to answer the door. This interaction was tense due to the situation with Michiru, but I think it was setting up that Dad can tell the good from wrong sort.

Which could have been an important moment considering the interaction between the caterpillar spirit, the horse-dog and Dad. Dad didn't seem to have much self(ghost self?) preservation with the caterpillar spirit, who was acting out of over protectiveness due to Michiru's mental state. And it was the horse-dog that de-esculated that situation, considering it had caused it. This could be due to the separation of ghosts from something like guides and the strength of forest spirits (assuming again that horse-dog is a guardian type). Maybe Dad didn't clock the danger because it's a spirit attached to a living girl. Maybe he follows the horse-dog's lead of danger vs okay. Maybe he just didn't see a threat because he could recognize it for what it was and it was the equivalent of trying to approach a chihuahua (they can lash out or become putty and its a coin toss sometimes). There's options, probably more than what I came up with.

[heretyc]

Outlast Characters and a variant S/O

"I don't want to go among mad people!"

"Oh, you can't help that. Most everyone's mad, here. You may have noticed...that I'm not all there myself..." - The Cheshire Cat

Synopsis: You're a variant who escaped from Murkoff amongst the chaos and the bloodshed. You're more aware of your madness than the others, and you always have a way of escaping danger.

You're essentially like the Cheshire Cat. I totally didn't get inspired after watching Disney's Alice in Wonderland or anything like that...

Again, these can be seen as platonic or romantic. All up to you.

Enjoy!

(❁)----------------------------------------------------------------------

Miles finds you amusing the moment he sees you grinning and making remarks about his missing fingers. Your outfit is stained with blood, yet none of your own, and he can tell you're a tough cookie. You intrigue him.

Waylon is freaked out. He doesn't want to be rude, as you clearly went through hell here, and the last thing you needed was to be told that you were horrifying, but you just... weird him out. Your eyes are unblinking, you hum, your grins are wide and unsettling...he's surprised you haven't shoved a knife in him, yet. He guides you out, but he's cautious.

Blake is reminded of Val, if he's being honest. You both act somewhat alike, even your outfits were somewhat alike; you're wearing a dirty uniform that obviously came from an asylum, and Val wore remains of their cassock. He'd much rather deal with a variant than a cultist, he's sure of that. You're helpful, too. Giving him hints and deciphering the Latin phrases scattered among the town of Temple Gate.

Lynn is reminded of Val, too. You were taken in hours earlier, and you found your way to Lynn after traversing through the tunnels. You looked to her pregnant stomach with a look of knowing and a chilling grin, questioning her if she knew her child was one of delusion and falseness. She was...confused as to what you meant, but you wouldn't continue. Val, however, got a little angry at you for suggesting that their lord was nothing but a simple trick of the mind. You didn't seem to care, however.

Trager is intrigued, as well. You popped up in his little section of the asylum, curious about his work, and he didn't have the ability to shoo you away or steal your tongue. He tried so hard to understand you, and yet he couldn't, to his dismay. You're a hell of a lot more interesting than the priest or his little buddy.

Jeremy is freaked the fuck out and thinks you're trying to get revenge on him. He remembers the day he submitted you, and yet here you are, looking into his eyes with wild hair, blood on your uniform, and an unsettling grin that showed off your teeth. He starts to get used to you once you help him escape from the other variants. You know he'll succumb to the Walrider, anyway. Might as well give him hope...

Eddie is fascinated. He could squash you like a bug, and this is something you tell him, but he doesn't wish to. Much like Trager, he tries to understand you. You're so silent, and whenever he's enraged, you're always...gone. He loves the grin on your face, because he has the same exact one!

Walrider and you are one and the same. You disappear at will and love to mess with the other variants. He doesn't care for you that much.

Frank Manera is...freaked out by you. The scary, cannibalistic variant wielding a saw is scared of a silent yet witty variant with a horrifying grin and a wise gaze. He doesn't even try to eat you. The last time he threatened you with a saw, you just grinned at him, your teeth and eyes the only things apparent in the dark room. He felt vulnerable.

Chris doesn't care whatsoever, and is far too focused on locating the Walrider. However, he does find the grinning variant that roams around the upper floors of the asylum a tad too...strange.

Marta is convinced God sent you as a sign to make her stop her 'righteous' activities. Your eyes shine a menacing white, and so do your teeth, and you're all she sees when roaming the dark fields of Temple Gate. She threatens you with a glare and a wave of her weapon, but by the time she's near where you were last standing, you're gone without a trace. Maybe Val sent you as a spy? Who knows.

Val fucking ADORES YOU. An escaped variant from god knows where, they think you're a blessing with your scary aura and your knowledge about their god [which you know nothing about, you just enjoy feeding them bullshit. It's kept you alive]. Your eyes are as white as theirs, and they find you mysterious. You're an enigma. The heretics love hearing you make remarks and rhyme about things. The members of the New Testament used to attempt to ambush the heretics, but after seeing you appear near every entrance with a menacing grin, they've halted all efforts.

Laird and Nick have opposing views. Laird thinks you're a demon of some sort, as no human being has such white eyes, and Nick finds you cool. He enjoys hearing you read to him, as your voice is as smooth as silk.

[bunnimew]

What do you think was going through Jack's mind when he was following his sister's voice, and found the bed frame that leads into Pitch's domain? It was unsettling and fascinating how Jack seemed to be in a trance as he approached the bed frame. Do you think at that point he knew it was Pitch, due to him being associated as the monster that hides under beds?

Hey, Anon!!

Absolutely nothing. I think it would be generous to imply he was thinking about much at all.

Kam pointed out that at this point in the film, Jack doesn't know it's his sister's voice yet. He hasn't seen the memories. He just hears a kid calling for Jack, and follows it like a carrot on a string.

I maintain, and have from the beginning, that Jack Frost is a color-negative James Potter. He spots trouble and he throws himself at it with abandon. He's got bravery to spare with very little prudence to temper his actions. I think Jack heard a disembodied voice and like a curious cat, was concerned with absolutely nothing beyond, "What's that?"

We see it later in Jamie's bedroom. Sandy, as much of a brawler as he is, tries to stop Jack from straight up yeeting himself into danger and Jack does not stop to give it a second thought. He just says whatever will get Sandy off his back so he can follow the fresh, new carrot to his heart's content.

Jack sees a shiny, Jack chases the shiny.

If someone wanted to characterize him as, like, slightly less ADHD, they could say he might have suspected it was Pitch when he saw the bedframe. It didn't stop his horrendously Gryffindor self from jumping down with both feet, but maybe he was starting to suspect. I don't think he was applying his brain with that much care, though. I think he slowed down only to make sure he was going the right way; hesitating just long enough to verify that yes, the disembodied voice is coming from the weird creepy hole in the ground, before he threw himself down there only to have to back-track. Nobody likes back-tracking.

Jack stops to think as like, his solution of last resort. He didn't even know the full extent of his powers after 300 years. This guy spent 300 years wandering the earth with very little to occupy his time and at no point went, "Let's see just what I can do." That whole Shazam montage of trying out flying, jumping, punching? Jack never did that. If he didn't stumble into an ability, he remained completely oblivious of it. For 300 years.

I bet he can juggle like a pro, tho.

So what do I think was going through Jack's mind when he heard the voice?

"I wonder what that is?"

Thanks, Anon! Always love an opportunity to wax poetic about Jack's lack of forethought ❤

[lesbianjoannaharvelle]

Memories - A drabble

Lisa's memories got erased after Dean left her and it's presented like a good thing. The show focuses on Dean's sadness. But what about Lisa after all? How is she doing after all that happened?

Read it under the cut!

Memories

The first weeks after the hospital are hard.

Ben seems okay, but Lisa has weird dreams and trouble sleeping.

When she closes her eyes at night, she sees black smoke and and a bloody knife – in her own hands...

She doesn't remember anything from the car crash. It must be from the impact but she has a lot of blanks in her memory.

The whole last year is a bit blurry and muddled. She remembers being happy. Being with Ben. Living a normal life. But there is something else, a void, a place that was once filled.

Also the feeling of a danger looming close, a world hidden underneath the normal world... But that's ridiculous, that sounds like a weird nightmare after all.

But she just can't put her finger on it, and it's unsettling. It feels like she has lost something but she doesn't even know what.

Her friends visit her and bring her flowers and cook for her and are genuinely sweet.

But they also seem to be unsure about certain events in the past. They talk about garden parties and school assemblys and can't quite remember if Lisa was there or not. If she was there by herself or with someone else.

Lisa tries to think. Tries to remember so hard that she gets a headache.

When was the last time she dated someone? Last time she had sex?

Did someone else live in this house?

The smallest things evoke emotions she doesn't understand: A random cup in the kitchen makes her sad. Her bed feels too big. The bathroom cabinet is half empty. The salt in the kitchen scares her for a moment which is so irrational she almost has to laugh.

She tries to continue her normal life: Her job, taking care of Ben, paying the bills. But something just feels off.

It gets a bit better with time. The days are filled with normal, mundane things that nevertheless take up a lot of time.

She thinks about going on a date again but then decides against it. She still doesn't feel too much like herself. She still needs time.

Ben is doing well in school although he seems a bit distant, too. Often lost in his own thoughts. Sometimes they sit next to each other on the couch, watching TV, and they're both not even following what's going on on screen. Both deep in their memories – but the memories are far away and full of shadows and mist.

She doesn't know if she'll ever be okay again. But she'll try. She has to, for Ben. Also for herself.

[hobiebrownismygod]

OC/Spider-Sona Backstory: The Widow

Maitreyi Jokhar (she/her), Earth-20262, Present day, Spider-man/Black Widow variant

Part 2!

Before you read, you should probably check out Part 1 HERE first so that you understand all the lore and references I'll be making! <3

Backstory Continuation:

"Get the formula. Then kill him. No witnesses"

Pierce's words echoed through her head as she waited. She was sitting on the couch of a cream colored room, decorated simply with some framed pictures, a clean kitchen and a bookshelf in the corner. It was the living room of the man who's life she was going to end.

Nick Fury. Bit of an overkill name. But from what she'd heard, it was a very, very well-known name.

She stayed silent as she heard the front door open, gently pulling her gun out of her coat and pointing it towards the entrance of the room as the man walked in. He stopped, but didn't seem very shocked. "Name's Fury. And you are?"

"No one important." She replied coolly, placing her finger against the trigger as she faced him. He placed his hands in his pockets, giving her an almost bored look. To the average person, this would seem a bit unsettling. But she knew. He was trying to stall.

"So, kid. Who's sent you?" He asked, his eyes darting towards the door for a moment.

"If one head is cut off, two more shall take its place."

He chuckled. "I should've known."

"I'm here for something."

"I know what you're here for." he replied, his expression turning solemn. "But S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't negotiate with terrorists."

"Bold of you to assume this is a negotiation." She replied, tilting the gun up slightly. "The formula."

"Look, kid. This formula that you're talking about doesn't exist."

"Thats a lie."

"We haven't tried to replicate it and we never will. It's too dangerous. Tell that to your leader."

She stayed silent. He wasn't lying. He couldn't be. Suddenly, she felt her spider-sense tingle slightly. Someone was coming. She heard footsteps quickening as they approached the door and realized it was time for her to go. But there was one last thing she had to do.

She pulled the trigger. Fury stepped back in shock and clutched at his stomach where the bullet had penetrated his skin. He hadn't been expecting that. She leaped out the window as agents poured into the room, but there was one person who stood out. She caught one glance of him before she swung away. A young man in his 20s, blonde and fairly muscular. It was odd. He looked so...familiar...but not in the "she'd seen him before" kind of way. Like they were related somehow. Weird.

A/N

Ok this series is probably gonna end up being longer than expected because I cannot write so much at once 😭. I refuse to fit an entire movie plot into one post, I need to spread it out so it makes more sense. This is turning into more of a marvel fanfiction than a spider verse fan fiction but I'm just trying to make it as accurate as possible, im sorry. Let me know if y'all have any feedback <3

[ask-the-random-elements]

Master post!!!!!

Welcome to the wasteland traveler!! You're unsure how you even ended up here, but you're in luck or.... lack of luck? Because you've stumbled upon a group of living elements!! Not just ANYY elements, THESE BAD BOYS ARE RADIOACTIVE TOO!!!

RULES FOR ASKS

1.Keep things sfw here, I'm a minor and I want this blog to be available to anyone (old enough to be on this site!!!) 2. READ THE LORE AND CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS!!! I really don't want to answer the same question a million times-

3. You CAN flirt with the adult characters as long as it sfw (Rule one)

LORE

The story takes place in a wasteland separated from the rest of society, guarded day in and day out. The elements are kept here because they're considered a danger to society and the safety of humanity. for generations the other elements have lived ignorant, unaware that their peers are living in isolation. You, (The readers) have heard rumors of this places existence and decided to secretly explore this forbidden land...

(Element persons life spans are usually around 50-60 years. At the end of their lives a new element person emerges repeating the cycle)

CHARACTERS

Bissie (Bismuth) She/her

Being the lightest and least radioactive element of the group, Bissie was always viewed as the weakest link, that is un till Tori emerged. For the longest time she believed that she doesn't belong amongst the radioactive elements given how weak hers is, but learned how to live with it eventually. Bissie is flamboyant, over the top and extra emotional. She's seemingly a bit more compassionate towards outsiders than the others, more willing to interact.

Polo (Polonium) he/him

We're jumping straight from least deadly to most deadly, meet every ones favorite insane green man!!!! Polo is silent, unsettling and deadly. He almost never talks, or even interacts with people, resorting to just death glaring at them. Voted most likely to try and strangle a polar bear!!! Polo cares, or at least the others hope he cares, he shows it in his own weird Polo way that no one really understands....

Tina (Astatine) She/her

Tina has no filter, she says what she thinks and if you don't like that? TOO DANM BAD!!! It's not like she'll ever care. She's physically weak, due to Astatines short half-life, and has horrible vision. Unfortunately unable to get glasses for obvious reasons. Tina relies on her wit to get out of dangerous situations unlike someone like Polo who can just scare his opponents away. Speaking of Polo, He and Tina have this ongoing beef with each other that started wayyyyyyyyyyy back when they were kids, and won't end any time soon if they both don't grow tf up.

Rade (Radon) He/him

Rade is the only gas element around here, due to this he has the ability to fly. He's the only level headed person here and the one others go to for comfort. He can be distant, struggling to bond with the others as much as he wished he could. He emerged without arms, given his disability he had to adapt using different methods, like mimicking arms using Radon gas, however this can kill him if he overdoes it. Despite being the most light weight of the bunch Rade is a force to be reckoned with, given the amount of radon gas in the wasteland giving him the ability to kind of control the air around him.

Francene (Francium) She/they

Francene is the least confrontational and least hostile of everyone, they're really quiet and soft spoken. She's constantly in pain, given Franciums 22 minute half-life, they always look like they're falling apart or melting. They almost never leave the base since her condition leaves her helpless in most cases. so she stays behind and looks after the base and Tori, though that also leaves them in a lot of pain. So far they haven't found anything that helps with their condition.

Rai (Radium) They/them

Rai is the happies person you'll meet here, seems to ignore everything negative happening in favor of pretending it's all normal. Needless to say they're very delusional. Despite that there's still some semblance of awareness just very well hidden. They do the wildest shit for no real reason other than they can. They kind of look weak but are amongst the stronger characters, an important asset to the team.

Aki (Actinium) She/her

Aki is.... a character.... She's sort of like Rai, but worse. No awareness whatsoever. She's wild, weird, loud, obnoxious and is always the one to cause trouble the others have to deal with. She regularly gives Francene and Ura heart attacks, probably her favorite activity. The worst part being she's completely unaware of these aspects of herself. Or at least pretends to be unaware. Given she has 4 arms her mobility is increased compared to the others making her an exceptional fighter.

Tori (Thorium) She/her

Toris very existence is an anomaly, she should have emerged at least 9-10 years ago. She's every ones baby, if anything bad happens to her you have 9 very angry radioactive people coming to take down whoever dared harm the child. She's not allowed far away from the base, not even with company for reasons (Ura being paranoid). She's very curious about the world she's forced to grow up in and constantly asks questions about it, some of which can't really be answered.

Tek (Protactinium) He/him

The chill older brother, basically the equivalent of a stoner. He stopped caring about a lot of things at a young age, he thinks it's pointless to stress about things you can't change or influence in any way, so he doesn't. Self proclaimed "Realist". He mostly just sits around and only helps out if he gets yelled at enough. Every once in a while the others go "Why tf are we even letting this dude stay here" And he goes "Bc you guys love me like a brother." and everyone goes yeah and drops the question for a few weeks.

Ura (Uranium) She/her

Ura's the designated mom character that's chronically exhausted and paranoid!!!! She's the oldest and strongest out of the bunch and feels the need to protect the others. Each of her arrows has the potential to be a mini nuke (Just has a similar shape of explosion to a nuke not nearly as destructive and deadly). She was forced to raise the others since she was 14, with no help, so she still views them as kids to an extent. She has her own set of problems she has to deal with but can't because therapy isn't a thing in the wasteland unfortunately!!!!! She's Toris primary caretaker and has raised her since Tori was an infant.

Go wild with the asks!!

reblogs appreciated!!!

[adamwatchesmovies]

Antiviral (2012)

Writer/director Brandon Cronenberg follows in his father’s body-horror footsteps with Antiviral. Weird and unsettling, you won’t see anything like this one anywhere else.

In the near future, celebrity worship has taken a new form. Avid fans of people like Hannah Geist (Sarah Gadon) want a part of her inside them, want to feel what their idols feel. Some eat cloned celebrity meat. Others get the viruses that make their favorite celebrities sick injected into their bloodstream. At the Lucas Clinic, Syd March (Caleb Landry Jones) sells pathogens to his clients and makes money on the side smuggling these exclusive commodities on the black market. To bypass his work's security measures, he incubates the viruses within himself. When his latest acquisition proves fatal to its host, he must find a cure before it's too late.

The very concept of Antiviral gives you the willies. What’s worse is that it doesn’t seem THAT far-fetched. We live in a world where you can very easily feel like you’re a part of a stranger’s life because you see everything they do. Going to a restaurant so you can eat the replicated flesh of someone you love - even though you’ve never met them - is extreme… but is it more invasive than looking at a leaked sex tape? How many degrees of unhealthiness separate getting a celebrity pathogen from taking a stranger's advice as gospel when it comes to products you should buy, apply on your skin or eat? The people of this world are eating human flesh and making themselves ill because they WANT TO.

Psychologically, the concept gives you the creeps but Antiviral doesn't stop there. Psychologically, it's sick. Physically, it's also sick. Admit it, you get a little squeamish when some medical professional shows you a needle but at least deep down you can feel comfort knowing that this small moment of unpleasantness is for the greater good. You relive that discomfort over and over while watching this film. You see how ill Syd becomes. You can imagine yourself in his shoes thanks to that one time your arm became inflamed after a flu shot. We've all been bedridden with a dreadful cough, thinking we were dying. He's actually dying.

Then there’s the actual plot. What’s worse than willingly giving yourself the same herpes variant some attractive lady contracted? getting some new disease you didn't realize was lethal. Now, this isn’t a pandemic film. We’re not scared that Syd will accidentally cause the end of humanity - this future has measures to prevent diseases from spreading to people who didn't pay. What’s chilling is that this disease might not be natural. Syd was never “meant” to contract this thing that’s in him. More and more, we begin to suspect this bug was manufactured. If it was, for what purpose? In addition to body horror, this is what I’d describe as a "terrify-inc." film; a story that shows how unscrupulous and dangerous big corporations can be when all they care about is money while the government regulations protect them rather than us.

The metaphors in Antiviral are not subtle and some of the characters might be thin but at what it wants to do above all, Antiviral excels. One look at Caleb Landry Jones in those clinically-white rooms and you’re filled with unease. Every shot of a needle penetrating the skin, of blood, mucus, saliva or slime fills you with a new sensation but getting an injection isn’t new… it’s just that something has changed. The ending, in particular, makes you feel a whole lot of “ick!” I mean that in a good way. (On Blu-ray, October 24, 2021)

[misscrazyfangirl321]

neal & henry: 17

"Watch your step!" Someone calls out, and instinctively, Neal freezes. Then he looks down, only to find a-well, a man, apparently, though he's only about six inches tall. The way he scowls up at Neal would be more fitting on a man thirteen times his height, but the wings do make him a little more intimidating.

"Sorry," Neal says, and the man rolls his eyes before walking away, wings dragging on the ground behind him.

Neal turns to the person who warned him, only to find the tech man. Horace? No, Henry. Henry, who's apparently grown up at the Sanctuary. Henry, who's known Ashley his whole life, who nearly collapsed when he saw her and clung to her like he'd break if he let go. Henry, who'd looked gutted when she'd pushed him away, not a hint of recognition in her eyes.

Swallowing, Neal finds his voice. "Thanks."

"No problem." Henry's grin seems sincere enough. Neal isn't quite sure what to make of him. "And don't mind Bobby. He just hasn't had his morning coffee yet, you know? Trust me, it'll perk him right up."

His words are light, though Neal weighs each one carefully. Maybe Neal's wrong; maybe there's never been anything between Ashley and Henry. Or maybe whatever's there is so strong, he's not the least bit concerned about the young and (Neal's never been one for false modesty) handsome man who's shown up by her side.

"You okay?" Henry asks, smile fading, and Neal nods.

"Yeah, I was just... Thinking about Ashley." He tests the waters, and Henry's face twists in pain.

"It's weird. I mean, she's her, but she's... Not, you know? Like something's missing."

"I guess you guys were pretty close, then?"

It's smooth. It's subtle. It's nothing to read too much into, just a casual attempt to gather information (judging by the startled look that Henry gives, followed by an unsettling smirk, it's absolutely none of those things).

"We grew up together. Ash's the closest thing I've got to a little sister."

Sister. Neal's next breath comes a little easier, though he tries to hide it. It's strange; he's not normally the jealous type, but it's hard now. For the past three months, Ashley's world has been mostly limited to El and Peter's apartment, but now... She has a whole life, and just because she doesn't know about it doesn't mean it doesn't affect things. Not anymore. Not now that they're here, and people who know her better than Neal ever has (know her better than even she does at the moment) can tell her all about her life.

"Well, hopefully she'll remember that soon." He tries to keep his voice light.

Henry's smile is a bit too knowing, but he only nods. "Yeah. And, uh, thanks. For taking care of her. And if you hurt her-"

"You'll kill me?" It's not the first time he's gotten a threat like that.

Laughing, Henry shakes his head. "Trust me, Ash can take care of that herself."

It's hard to picture Ashley-sweet, kind, thoughtful Ashley-hurting anyone, but he can still remember the fight. The moment he'd thought they were going to die and she'd started moving, moving like he'd never seen. Fighting with deadly precision, holding nothing back. There's something dangerous inside her, Neal knows.

He only hopes he gets to stay long enough to meet the real her.