#meanwhile for the others im getting like. only scraps

[rocker-socks]

Writing a Batfam story that involves tales (unironically think Bratz Kidz Fairy Tales) and while i have Tim and Damian down (Rapunzel and Cinderella respectively, with changes made for Cinderella to be more appropriate for Damian) i am struggling so hard coming up with the others so if anyone has ideas i would be So Appreciative

[enha-doodles]

I saw some shorts in yt where the girl stalk her crush, spikes his drink, and kidnap him. But turns out he's been stalked her back as well and getting kidnapped was actually in his plan to get close to her (they're both just as freak)

I could imagine this scenario with Jay but its up to you anyway (my english suck lmao im so sorry)

NOT SO DIFFERENT | ✧⁺。

Pairing : yandere!Jay x yandere!reader

Notes : it's finally doneee , tysm for requesting and waiting for it so long 😭😭😭

Warnings : yandere stuff , obsession , intoxication , spiking drink , kidnapping

Our school bell rung signalling the most awaited time , the lunch break . The teacher was in the middle of speaking as the bell rung and as soon as the students heard the ringing there was alot of scrapping of chairs , chit chatting , laughing and overall a very annoying commotion. I stood up as yunjin made her way to my desk whinning "common girl you take so long to pack up , I'm hungryyyy" okay I love my bestfriend but I do not take that long and this bitch has no absolute patience . I rolled my eyes at her as we walked towards our regular seat with our food .

We were in the middle of gossiping along with eating as heeseung came with Jay and sat with us . I blushed a bit as I saw them and i could hear yunjin holding her laugh . I elbowed her as heeseung spoke up "hello guys , what's up" yunjin stopped laughing as she answered "we were just gossiping, talk of gossip I heard one guy of your group started dating is it one of you guys?" She wriggked her eyebrows teasingly as the three of them laughed meanwhile i couldn't help but tense at her words . It can't be him , I know it since I've been following him from 1 week continuously. Heeseung saw my expression as he cleared it out "no no it's just a rumour, none of us are dating anyone"

Yunjin smiled as she saw heeseung reassuring me . I could tell- honestly scratch that everyone could tell that heeseung liked me and according to him as well as a few other people, I like him back . Yunjin was one of the 'other people' and she alwyas tries to do something to get us together , giggling over a simple interaction we having that she quotes as 'absolutely romantic ' . I don't know where they get this ridiculous idea.

Okay to be honest I do know where they get the idea from but they are getting it all wrong . Yes I blush when he's around , yes my eyes always searches for his group , yes I fix my hair when I see him coming but it's not because of him . It's because of the guy he's always around with - It's because of Jay . They are bestfriends and are practically attached to the hip with the amount of time they spend together.

I first saw him at the guitar class in our school , then at the committee meeting , then at the cafeteria and then it was everyday. Slowly i was starting to realise that I liked him but it was just a mere attraction. Though the reality quickly changed when my mere attraction turned into obsession. My occasional glances turned into staring , i came to guitar classes not for the guitar but for him , and the worst of all I started following him . I just couldn't get enough of his smile , his scent just him in general and it was driving me crazy!! I wanted him to be mine and mine only .

Snapping back at the cafeteria I heard heeseung speak , "sooo Jake's having a party tonight at our dorm , you guys coming right?" I was about to politely decline but yunjin spoke before me eagerly accepting his invitation "oh offcourse, we need a break . The assignments are killinngg me" All the while I was just staring at jay and suddenly our eyes met but he didn't look away , his eyes were so intense and so deep that i could litteraly drown in them . Heeseung broke our eye contact as he stood up "okay greatt!! Meet you guys tonight at 8 " and with that they left . Yunjin looked at me as she squealed "he's sooo in love with you and you just can't stop blushing, just date already ohmygod!!!" I scoffed as I shook my head and stood up holding my tray "common you know I don't like him let's go we're getting late" . She followed me as she continued speaking "oh yeah sureee" making sure to exaggerate the sure .

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　 　 　。

In the bustling chaos of a crowded party, amidst the pulsating rhythm of music and the cacophony of laughter, there was one figure who stood out to me like a beacon in the night: Jay. He was the epitome of effortless charm, his smile lighting up the room as he effortlessly commanded the attention of everyone around him.

We had reached to the party a bit late but the night was still young . I stared at jay as yunjin went to dance with some guy . He was the only one in mind , my every waking moment filled with fantasies of us together. But I knew that in reality, we inhabited two separate worlds, destined never to intersect.

On this particular night, fueled by a cocktail of desire and desperation, I made a decision that would change the course of both our lives forever. As I watched Jay mingle with the crowd, his laughter ringing out like music to my ears, I knew that I had to make him mine, by any means necessary.

The plan unfolded with chilling precision, each step calculated to perfection. I approached Jay with a coy smile, my heart pounding in anticipation as I engaged him in conversation. He was charming and attentive, his words weaving a spell around me as I struggled to maintain my composure.

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, I seized my opportunity, discreetly slipping a potent sedative into Jay's drink when he wasn't looking. A rush of adrenaline coursed through my veins as I watched him take a sip, my pulse quickening with every passing moment.

With bated breath, I waited for the drug to take effect, my nerves fraying at the edges as I grappled with the enormity of what I had done. But as Jay's eyes began to droop and his movements grew sluggish, a sense of exhilaration washed over me, drowning out the whispers of doubt that threatened to consume me whole.

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　 　 　。

When Jay finally succumbed to the effects of the sedative, I wasted no time in carrying out the next phase of my plan. With trembling hands, I guided him out of the crowded party and into the cool night air, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement , lying effortlessly to anyone that asked what happened to him - "oh he just drank too much"

As I navigated the deserted streets, Jay's limp form slung over my shoulder, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was on the precipice of something extraordinary. This was my chance to finally possess the object of my desires, to make him mine in every sense of the word. But damn was i a fool , i should've known . It was too good to be true , too easy .

When Jay finally regained consciousness, his reaction was not what I had expected. Instead of fear , confusion , screaming or thrashing there was a glint of something else in his eyes, something that sent a shiver down my spine. He was too calm for my liking .

"Nice place , though I do prefer a fancy bed but this works just fine I guess ?" Jay's voice was calm, almost eerily so, as he gazed at me with an intensity that made my blood run cold. "You know these ropes are cheap for a reason right ?" He said as he pulled his hands from behind his back and rubbed the spot where the bruise was forming

I recoiled in shock, my mind racing as I struggled to comprehend what was happening. Why is he so calm ? Does he think i actually got him here because he was drunk ? Or does he think we had sex ? But that doesn't explain the rop- "calm down sweetheart, I can tell you're thinking too much" he interrupted my thoughts sweetly with his honey like voice flowing through my mind . He stood up and gently tugged at my wrist as he pulled me closer and leaned down a bit inhaling the scent of my perfume which I bought because it was his favourite "hmmm my favourite perfume, got it correct sweetheart . How could you not you litteraly were behind me when I was shopping" he chuckled at the last part .

How could Jay possibly know about my obsession with him? And more importantly, why was he so unnervingly calm in the face of danger?

"It was all part of my plan," Jay continued, his words sending a chill down my spine. "I knew you were obsessed with me, so I decided to play along. But now that the tables have turned, it's time for you to realize who's really in control." He sighed as he sat me down on the bed , holding my hands in his own "we are meant to be darling , psychos like us are destined to be with each other for eternity and it's about time you accept it - not like you have a choice"

As Jay spoke, a sense of dread washed over me, the realization dawning that I had vastly underestimated him. He was not the helpless victim I had imagined him to be; he was a predator, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike when least expected. He was the danger and i was the victim but did I seem to oppose the idea ? Fuck no , how can I when even as fear coursed through my veins, there was a part of me that couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of exhilaration. Jay's admission of his own obsession with me sent a thrill coursing through my body, igniting a fire within me that burned brighter than any fear or doubt.

In that moment, I knew that I had a choice to make: to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume me, or to embrace it fully and revel in the intoxicating power it offered. And as I gazed into Jay's eyes, his gaze burning with an intensity that mirrored my own, I made my decision to fall in the darkness afterall was there any kind of experience that could make you complete other than knowing that the one you're in madly love with is also in love with you but just more insanely.

As we gazed at each other , there was a loud voice heard "CUT !! YOU GUYS WERE AMAZING" we both smiled as we heard the director . This was our 3rd music video shooting together after one of the first ones went viral . This was a new concept to us though it did not at. all. mean the love we showed , we presented was fake . We've been in a relationship for the past 7 years and been married for 2 now and it was the bestest decison of my life , he's made me the happiest I've ever been and I would not have it any other way . As the director was done talking to him , Jay approached me as he embraced me in an affectionate hug , our bodies fitting each other like a puzzle . He whispered "We really are meant to be , aren't we darling?" In my opinion we are not so different from the characters we just played and that's the thrill in our life .

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　 　 　。

Taglist : @axartia @nikipedia07 @lovesickxmina

[paperclipps7]

speaking of toxic yuri, what ships are 'canon' within the Dead End? i'm very curious and i will be grading your tastes. for legal purposes that is a joke

Ships are definetly not going to be a major plot point for The Dead End, more a little side thing to help out if I want to do something fluff (or angst, probably angst).

The most obvious one is Shellevision. Its my favorite, I like it a lot, it makes me happy. Their dynamic would definetly boil down to just the fact that theyre the only ones who care about the other, and they both want to make sure that connection stays, which is why they went off on their own. Vee defends Shelly from basically everything, Shelly repairs Vee and keeps her running. Its a symbiotic relationship tbh. Im not sure how much outward romance The Dead End would have as its not really the focus, but on a personal level, yeah theyre together, though if someone wanted to interpret their relationship as just close allies than by all means.

Theres the previously mentioned toxic yuri Slotmachine. Gigi and Scraps have a sort of rivalry going on. Gigi likes pushing Scraps' buttons and trying to steal her stuff, meanwhile Scraps is always chasing her out of New Gradenview. I like to imagine Scraps hates it in the moment but gets excessively bored without Gigi around.

Silent Melody (Flutter and Boxten) would work here since theyre in the same faction and both built a plane together, however I think in this context it would make more sense to just be real close friends, especially with Flutter being on fire the entire time.

Soggy Cookies (Ginger and Finn) is a rough one, because its one of my favorites that kinda works but not really. The Wanderer's are on good terms with Hazewood, so the two would have connections, but besides that theres not much to link them. Id have to workshop it more.

Brightcase is one I see more as a strained relationship in this AU. Rodger is constantly absorbed in his work and gives next to nobody the time of day unless theyre offering to help with his research. I feel like Brightney and him would get into arguments about whats right for Hazewood, as they both take on much more vocal roles than Bobette (who is the leader). Its kinda ironic considering how often I make them a nice married couple in my aus, this is a good change of pace I think.

The last two ships of mine I really love but they just wouldnt have a place in the AU, those being Sweethugs (Goob and Sprout), Christmas Party (Yatta and Bobette) and Poltergust (Connie and Tisha). Connie and Tisha would have basically no reason to interact besides Connie burying Tisha's corpses. And Goob and Sprout, while having no bad blood between them specifically, are in factions that do not get along. The same applies to Yatta and Bobette

Ultimately I think it would be fine for people to just toss ships around as they like in this AU, like I said its not very relationship focused and the only debatably canon ones are Shellevision and Slotmachine, and even then those can still be interpreted as close friends or rivals.

[zizbombs]

Is there a more useless cape in the bay than triumph?

After much soul searching, wiki browsing and pondering, the answer to that question is yes. Yes there is.

Meet exhibit A: Trevor, AKA Chariot.

The worst fucking tinker to ever live.

Outwardly, very similar to Triumph. Complete mouthbreathing fodder.

What really puts Chariot in 'I would rather have greg veder have this power' tier is the fact that he had so much potential.

Chariot is a movement tinker, one who I cannot stress this enough, HAS ACCESS TO TELEPORTATION TINKERTECH.

TELEPORTATION TINKERTECH.

One more time for the people in the back,

TELEPORTATION.

TINKERTECH.

I could cry, really I could.

So first off, you need to understand just how good his power is. He literally made fucking POWER ARMOR that could go 100 mph with fucking dogshit scraps. Fucking power armor. The only other tinkers with power armor was trainwreck (a guy who's specialty is literally working with scraps) and Armsmaster, who's funded by the protectorate. And this guy just fuckin made some shit in his basement with an oven and a blowtorch or something.

He's got an extra dash of that shardstuff for sure. Also for some reason he just has extra insight into tinkertech? Just added on, for shits and giggles. His shard was forking over the shardbucks to give it's host a head start, too fucking bad it landed on literally the worst person in existence to have a tinker power. even fucking leet would be better than this idiot.

Not only that, he was able to copy trickster's power. Yk, trickster, just the guy with one of the most versatile and powerful powers in a street level setting and even beyond some of that, no biggie. fucking trickster.

This guy could scan movers and copy their powers.

In a world where this guy had a single braincell, he would've joined the protectorate, scanned strider's power and worked with dragon to set up fucking portals all around the united states or something.

Instead, we get this fucking brainlet.

I'm assuming he could also make some sort of neurological implant to speed up his thoughts to keep up with his tech, but thats just another failure of this troglodyte.

I still, I'm still laughing at how utterly fucking stupid this shit is, but one of his gadgets that he made.

So get this, he made a jetpack right, or a flight pack whatever. Guess what this dipshit decides to add in his shit. A fucking bomb. Yeah, he added a bomb in something he was carrying on his back. The reason? As far as im concerned, as a fucking escape route.

Yeah, you heard that right.

The MOVEMENT tinker, put a fucking bomb in their movement gear, to ESCAPE.

???

Unless he had some sort of secret 540000 iq plan to do something else with that bomb, but considering this guy's track record I doubt it. Even then that's fucking stupid. Why are you blowing up your gear? 'Oh hey! I got a great idea! Instead of doing literally anything else, how about I put an EXPLOSIVE right next to me in volatile tinkertech! What a great idea!'

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, this guy triggered about a year before canon start. What was he doing in all of that time?

Literally fucking nothing.

All he did was just ride around at 3 am being a little shithead. A year btw, he did that for a year.

Then he eventually got caught by assault (lol) and was forced to talk to Kid Win. In an incredible play, since Chariot was working for coil and decided to become a rat, got DISCOVERED BEFORE HE EVEN SIGNED THE PAPERS. LOL?

This fucking dipshit was like 'Yeah, they'll never see it coming >:)' meanwhile the PRT had a meeting deciding to fucking just feed this guy faulty information. Can you fucking do anything 😭.

He just was taking L after L.

He's like Leet but he doesn't even have the excuse that his shard hates him.

He's literally Legend's long lost cousin.

no goals, no plans

what are you doing man? 😭

Worst fucking spy on the planet.

Literal shithead kid waking people up at 3 am going on joyrides, which would be based if he wasn't so stupid. Such a cool power too, definition of wasted potential. I just agh.

WHY DO YOU GET. LIKE. UNDERSTANDING OF OTHER TINKERS SHIT. JUST TACKED ON. WHY ARE YOU BUILT FOR COLLABS AND YOU DO NOTHING.

Only fucking this guy could take a teleportation tinker spec and be absolute fodder.

Im still laughing at the bomb shit. Why is your first thought as a movement tinker to put a fucking bomb inside of your tech. Like what? Instead of literally making anything else. Are you fucking stupid? Yes you are, you are stupid. Even if it wasn't an escape plan (still can't believe it WORKED as an escape plan.) Like, what are you gonna do, throw your shit at the guy your fighting then stumble away because you blew up all of your shit. This fucking guy.

Anyway, stay tuned for more hating.

[roseworth]

I read through your Dick Grayson asks and I would like to thank you for putting all the issues I've (also) had with his character into words. I feel like Jason fans (that have read his comics) are far more critical of his actions and will call him out on it. Meanwhile I haven't seen anyone be critical of Dick before, even when his writing activity hurts other characters (like him being the main leader in Absolute Power even tho it was at the expense of both Diana (a woman) and Mr Terrific (a poc), among others)

im going to disagree just a little bit bc i have beloved mutuals that Are actually critical of dick. not in the same way jason fans are critical of him because we hate on that man every day out of love. but my dearly beloved gay ppl in my phone will sometimes be critical when he deserves it

but youre absolutely right that just talking about people who read the comics (bc wfa/fanon fans are a whole different can of worms), jason fans are a lot more likely to be critical of jason. i think thats at least partially because every few months theres death penalty discourse about jason todd so a lot of fans feel the need to emphasize that they like the character because of his fictional actions and they dont actually support the death penalty. and since dick hasnt done anything that warrants that kind of thing theres less of a need to add disclaimers before talking about him

i do think that most dick fans dont feel the need to be critical of his writing, which kinda ties into what i was saying before about how hes treated by a lot of his fans as an unknown side character. whenever something happens to dick the general consensus about it seems to be "omg hes finally getting the appreciation he deserves 🤩" as if he hasnt been appreciated by dc and by fans for like 80 years. and it especially annoyed me during absolute power bc its not necessarily Wrong for dick to be the one to lead everyone but on the other hand the story kinda treated it like he was the only one who could do it?? i feel like diana was the obvious choice but she wasnt even considered. you make a good point about mr terrific too, i feel like hes a less obvious choice just bc part of the reason nightwing was chosen was because everyone on the team had a connection to him but a lot fewer people know mr terrific, but again i think the fact that he was kinda holding shit down during ap means he could've been the leader (idk a lot about mr terrific but it does kind of annoy me that they keep using him in stories to be the guy that gives everyone information on the multiverse then he doesnt get to do anything but maybe thats just me). anyways all that to say it makes sense to me why dick could be leader but it just bothers me that there were other choices but the story acted like dick was the only one who could possibly do it

and i think its not Super often that characters are completely ooc for the sake of elevating dick, but it definitely happens. i think it happens super often with damian where the writers will ignore his development and write him to be a mean little kid just so dick can say "remember to be nice damian ☺️" and very few people talk about it just because the people going "awww hes so big brother coded <3" are louder. and dick becomes the center of every team book hes on no matter what, which to be fair is usually because hes the leader so he gets most of the focus. but it seems like every single team book that dick is on becomes Nightwing & Friends where dick gets the storylines and everyone else gets the scraps and most team books are usually. yk. about everyone.

anyways thats my dick rant for the day like and subscribe for more

[xamaxenta]

woke up this morning thinking about MAS in playboy bunny suits . the context isnt important maybe theyre doing some kind of slutty pirate cafe but cant stop thinking about how insufferable MAS would be they would NOT be able to keep their hands off each other . marco trying to do his Job as a server but ace and sabo keep walking past to grab a handful of marcos dumptruck ass in that outfit eventualy he just gets fed up and decides two (three) can play at that game and casually bumps into ace like oh scuse me sparky i need to grab some new glasses for this table <bends over and grinds against aces dick> (these outfits are like latex or some shit and so tight these poor boys could not get a full boner if they wanted to but it does not stop them from trying) ace short circuits for a second looking down at marcos little waist and fat ass squishing against his hips while hes bent over and the only reason ace doesnt grab him around the waist and rut on him like that is because all the blood has left his brain

sabo meanwhile. oh sabo. marco and ace are nearly Spilling out of their tiny outfits but sabo fits his like a glove he looks like he walked off a playboy magazine with his lithe little waist and swaying hips and coy little smile. he is SO in his element schmoozing and flirting (and subtly interrogating because the dude litwrally never stops working) and he looks DAMN good doing it!! however he is still a littke shithead and likes causing chaos so he sits on the laps of these rich randos giggling and caressing their faces or letting them slide a hand up his back to feel around his waist, he loves teasing and fucking with these guys who will get absolutely none of this cake. it is instead all part of his master plan to get ace and marco cranky and jealous and horny about it so he can get his world absolutely rocked later tonight

marcoace are flirting and frotting and grinding on each other all night with varying degrees of subtlety but sabo plays hard to get and doesnt let them get near him until the shift is over and they MANHANDLE sabo onto the nearest surface and rip the bottom tiny scrap of the suit clean off (basically just a thong. how are they gettting away with it) and sabo is bent over the table, thrown against the wall, marco holds him up under the thighs so ace can plow him sandwiched between them, the man is fucked within an inch of his life, all according to keikaku . the outfits stay ON

Anon please i can only feel so much arousal in one go im only human help

I am withered… but so well fed…

Thank you what the fuck this came out of nowhere i appreciate it

[gladosluver]

ooooh you'll share your hcs about the student council (and ryota too ig) ooooooohh, i am a ghost here to tell you to do so.

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHH AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

heres a bunch of random headcanons i need to get out of my system!!!

tsubasa can play a piano and violin. aiko can play the flute. suzuko plays a clarinet. tomohiko can play a kalimba and shoji could do some CRAZY shit on an electric guitar and keyboard

karen owns a cat. or two. or three or four or five.. asukasei is deathly allergic and would start sneezing if they got too close to each other

sosuke goes to a haunted house all high and mighty just to scream at fucking EVERYTHING

kotomi used to think that "railing" someone meant to hit them with a train, not fuck them. she only learned the truth after she got mad and yelled "IM GONNA RAIL YOU" at kiriko and was confused why she started laughing

asukasei, aiko, and soshun have the cilantro soap gene

suzuko gets coffee every morning and orders the CRAZIEST drinks ever. like im talking that 15 sugar 9 caramel 12 mocha 7 cream type shit. she drinks it all too

daiki could prepare a 3 course meal for everyone and say it's "just some light work" and meanwhile soshun and sosuke cant even use a microwave properly

when they cant find something to suit their fashion preferences, suzuko and aiko get together and make their own clothes. ryota joins them and makes his own stuffed animals

taro woke up screaming one night because he had a dream taco bell discontinued the baja blast

during junior high, sosuke and tsubasa were twenty one pilots fans

kotomi dresses like she came straight out of the 2000s. full on pink/black/white mcbling flip phone juicy couture jean skirt stuff. class of 09' type fit honestly

once asukasei got bored and read the entirety of the great gatsby for no reason at all. he hated it

karen either paints her nails a new dark colour every week or goes months without doing anything with them

daiki owns a hamster and a rabbit and cares extremely deeply for them. they are SPOILEDDDD

shoji makes wired jewelry and is probably really into nu-punk too. sometimes tomohiko gives him scrap metal to work with

tsubasa once believed an AI generated image of a mermaid was real and has NEVER been able to live it down ever since

taro believes vampires and ghosts exist. ryota swears he saw a ufo and aliens once

some sad shit below muwhwuahuwh

unrelated somewhat but taro and tsubasa remind me of the song Caesia & Ruben

kiriko and karen had the same motive for opposite reasons. karen had a good relationship with her mother and was distraught to see her dead, but kiriko had an awful relationship with her mother and couldnt stand knowing she was still alive

the brain is active for several minutes even after death.

i really wish we got more info about these guys before they kinda died

[surveillance-0011]

If ur still doing the HOL hcs can I get some for Krubis and Creature? Only if you want :>

Ofc ofc!! I’ve been meaning to post more Krubis he’s my favorite. Creature is here too but I'll admit i have my biases and this is mostly krubis 🫣 tee hee. warning for low grade body horror

Krubis:

Nonbinary. Predominantly he/him but fine with the occasional they or she. Butch Lesbian. To me. To me. Idk if anyone will see what I see here but this is all I see.

Helmet can come off. I'm assuming the drill and energy/jet pack can come off for the sake of maintenance and whatnot but it's a hassle and his hand is legit gone

I mean he's got other helmets in his office?? but meanwhile he's apparently worn the same sort of stuff for like 20 years (painting/photo in the mansion) and i feel like most of the dialogue points to it not being removable but Im. not sure if im convinced there. It also acts like he doesn't have a spare hand so. idk.im sure he could take off the drill and engine pack in case repairs r necessary. but ig he just doesn't for one reason or another

probably bc he's stupid and stubborn and holding out for a chance to tear someone apart. too bad he's only really tearing apart his own work

That and i'm sure atp it's all low grade cyborg stuff. The green bit the drill attaches to is embedded in his arm and i'm sure there's ports and plates n wires all up somewhere in him where everything attaches.

In and out of sobriety. He's. Not really sober atp but he was trying and I'm sure he still said so that he wouldn't get dragged back into full throttle addiction and so garm wouldn't get on his case abt stuff. too bad most people can see right through his lie.

Smokes too. Smells like space weed, dead furgle, dirt and sweat most of the time. Doesn't really drink though.

Got sober after a while of dating his wife, really got serious abt it after marriage + once his workload increased. Fell back into old habits once. yknow. all that. And he fell hard. Beforehand it got bad sometimes but after everything it was less of a bad habit and basically the only way he'd even feel close to alright.

Total cheapskate, lifelong haggler. If he can’t steal it or get it for free/cheap he won’t buy it. Also a bit of a hoarder, takes all sorts of freebees and scrounges up scrap material n junk that he thinks he'll get around to using for something later

Spiteful lil bastard. Feels entitled to much more than he’s got generally but is especially pissy about his space on the ladder rung. Envious of most others. Will never NOT complain about something.

Not conniving enough to work out some brilliant plan of sabotage but he's certainly a bully who has knocked others down a peg and screwed up what he can to get what he wants.

Weak in comparison to the other officers, and generally out of shape/rusty, but he’s still relatively strong and can hold his own. Definitely stronger and more durable than humans and other common alien species, even if it’s not by much. A bit sickly from piss poor sleep and eating habits.

Minimal combat training but he fought a lot in his youth and isn’t totally helpless. Certainly not happy with how the others seem to ignore all this and regard him as the weakest link. Even if it may or may not be true.

Violence is not the answer it's a question and if you're dealing with someone who has nothing to give you the answer is of fucking course. cleans moplet guts off his drills, shoes and Gus daily.

Not the brightest, certainly not as "brilliant" as some of the others but he wasn't born yesterday either. Street smart and he knows his way around.

Workaholic but work ethic leaves somethings to be desired. Certainly has spent hours just staring at his computer wishing he was anywhere else. Or bitching over the loudspeaker/hologram messages. Not to mention that he digs in to the harvest a bit too often.

Also not very organized. Not a total slob but everything is "organized chaos" that is just teetering on that edge of even being considered organized

No free time these days but his "hobbies" mostly consist of debauchery and causing mayhem. He is rather handy tho, enough to fix himself up decently. Does not go to mechanic or doctor like ever until he's totally sure he can't do shit abt it. should really take better care of himself either way.

He knows he has a problem. He knows he has many problems. He just lacks any drive to try and fix anything. Like he's legit given up.

Sticks with the cartel bc it's all he really knows and he's holding out what little hope he's got. That and generally has that mindset that you stick with whoever's looked out for you and though what happened with Giblets and Garm's incompetence have tested that loyalty it's still been such a huge factor of his life

And he's mostly cool with Nipulon even if he's said some choice words about Garm around him. Really Krubis has some respect and admiration but doesn't get why he still answers to Garm. Hell he wishes Nipulon was in charge of all this instead!

Distant from the other officers but has a shaky...friendship ...ish? with Douglas and the Skrendels. He's very very jealous of both these parties getting what they get despite their incompetence while he works his ass off in his eyes and neither Douglas nor the Skrendels appreciate this mindset... but they do look out for each other kind of.

Closer with Douglas. As ive said before it's very weird and on and off but he just can't stay mad at Douglas bc he looks at him and sees his younger self. So if anything he's worried and would like to try and tell Douglas to wisen up before it's too late. I think they mostly mention each other in their dialogue bc it's wild that a g3 officer was killed and word spread like wildfire and YOURE HOLDING THEIR GUN TO SHOOT EM WITH more so than them necessarily being close but no one else seems to really care in this regard so i will say it's not like they're *not* friends or whatever. May or may not know what he looks like out of his suit. i'm between Krubis legit not knowing or keeping the half-open secret for douglas's sake.

As for the Skrendels. They want him to lighten up and Krubis wants these dumb fucks off his lawn and for Garm to explain why the hell these meatheads get so much of Zephyr. Eternal jersey-new york rivalry. But they're all from rougher walks of life and on the occasion that Krubis isn't stewing as deep as he usually does in his bitter envy for everyone else they can kind of chill together

I feel like of the three Angela is a little less confrontational or generally chill so he actually gets along with Krubis the best outta the three. Jonathan is charismatic but very brash and generally obnoxious and meanwhile Mona is pretty serious and the least social of the three. Jonathan is generally cool with Krubis even if he thinks he's totally cranky but Krubis finds him overwhelming and the two both get fired up easily so it's not the best mix. And Mona doesn't really like him. Mona does not like a lot of people.

His relationship with his wife was faltering before Giblets slept w/ her because of increasing disagreements. She found Krubis to be pretty headstrong even when he didn’t really know wtf he was talking about. In general things sort of just stagnated with Krubs workin all the time,, no communication nothing new,, etc etc.

But!! They were pretty happily married for some time, at least like 5-10 years. Sickening sweethearts at one point.

He was pretty pissed about the cheating and divorce (and probably said some things to her that he shouldn't have) but he was much, much more hurt by her death. In his eyes Giblets practically stole her away just to kill her and didn't care about who he hurt.

He was totally planning to kill the guy btw. Or at least ruin his life right back. Never got around to it. Bc paperwork

I don't know if he'd ever truly *like* Giblets but once upon a time he was willing to give the guy the benefit of a doubt and was even able to muster up some kindness. Certainly saw he was smart and figured maybe he'd just gotten a bad rap. Never Fucking Mind!!!

He's angry with her too, a little. But most of all he's angry with himself. For never being there. For not fighting harder to win her back. For letting her die like that. Everything that went down made him much angrier than he was beforehand (even tho he was always sorta like this).

Garm's patience was wearing thin. I'd say the feeling was mutual but I think Krubis was a lot more fed up. She... atp does she even respect him? Used to. Fears him either way.

Also Fucking Scared of Gurgula. No trust there.

Wears work + utility clothes, function over form all the time. Has a lot of promo/event sort of merch from whatever goes on at Dularmoland and the like that he wears for sleep or around the house.

Never ditches the shades. Sensitive eyes and doesn't want people to read him too easily. His eyes r pink btw. They should be pink. Not enough people in this game have fun eye colors.

very prone to freaking the fuck out. guilty of adult temper tantrums and being petty +immature abt stuff.

I do think he helps around Dularmoland. Def behind the scenes but checks in a lot when he can and has totally shown up and lent a hand. he IS friends with Ranchy just keeping some distance bc he's busy and trying not to fall further into addiction bc he knows Ranchy Is Not Okay.

Very very very loyal to the few he's close to. G3 kind of sort of counts.

Pretty good cook, for someone basically stuck making survival/depression meals 24/7

Actually kind of a total fucking dork. They've got a bit of an awkward goofy side to em. Moreso just awkward as of late they have not really had any fun with anything for quite some time but they are not immune to mischief and The Silliness. Kind of hard to avoid as a living Drill Man reference. Embarrassed and in denial that theyre kind of cringe fail.

Actually didn't mind Gus and while Gus totally hated them, they weren't too cruel to him. Besides using him to kill moplets and trying to convince him that everything they were doing was morally fine if not correct. Which is actually very cruel but. They were very affable towards him if you get what im sayin.

Kind of found the Gatlians cute and interesting in general. Not enough to be against what happened to them though.

I do think if he stepped back and saw the extent of damage that the G3 has done he would feel guilt but in the end he'd rather keep his head down and keep going along with things.

Creature (yes finally Krubis talk is over)

He/him but it's whatever. greyroace pan.

Gender wise. idk idk if he was born with that uterus or the Skrendels put that there but either way. Male.

Tries his damndest to be positive. It's not too hard bc he's been numbed to a lot of the pain but it still veers into toxic positivity ish sort of thinking.

Gets very upset when others are upset and gets VERY ANXIOUS when others are angry especially. Generally very emotionally empathetic but after all that time in a lab where anger usually lead to him being used more like a punching bag/gineua pig by the Skrendels that gut reaction isn't gonna go away

also just. doesn't like sitting with all these emotions

At least he usually goes the route of trying to see what he can do for people instead of totally shutting it all down but still not a healthy way to think

A little clingy but generally well meaning and tries his best to be kind and morally decent

he just wants some stability after all this time, man. he doesn't want his whole life pulled out from under him again.

Big catastrophizer. But also very it is what it is. shaking with fear on verge of tears hyperventilating saying fuck it we ball.

Lowkey v v numb but what he does feel is very overwhelming

cheese fan big on cheese i think i shall make some nachos for him

Doesn't like medical stuff at all. Still wants to watch Grey's anatomy

I think tv dramas catch his attention in general.

Knows the most abt Gurgula of the Gatliens though that's still not much besides witnessing the experiments he got up to and what little he's overheard.

Could totally tell you everything abt the Skrendels though

very much a tim robinson character. prone to shenanigans

ig we shall learn more in the comics but im betting the lost love bit is probably abt him in the blurb.

Also guessing maybe he was a part of the resistance or the strike force but was captured and mutilated beyond recognition

not sure how likely this is but i would not be surprised if this lost love turns out to be harper or something and they take one look at each other and say "yeah nah whatever this is is fine for now". though it's just as likely it's someone totally new.

i think maybe his OG appearance looked more aquatic? with fins and the like ? maybe he even had the tiny lil hands gus has

in a human au his head would be shaved to like a scrappy buzzcut in the labs and it would grow out over time. roots would show his hair is actually brown but it was bleached then, either before capture or by the skrendels for one reason or another

Of the group he's on the best terms with Kenny. Gets along with all of them though Gus and Sweezy wish he knew why they were (and still kind of are) mad at Kenny.

Also got some bonding time in with Lezduit before he went off with BH's parents. They take solace in the shared experiences of being lab rats to horrible people.

The other Gatlians have tried to fill creature in on what life on Gatlus was like. He was sad that he had forgotten everything and he felt bad abt not really having that same connection.

Bounty Hunter told him about Pikmin and he is enamored with it.

[wetbloodworm]

TRverse clinging onto a scrap of my attention, holding on by a fucking thread. fighting for its life.

roommates/suitemates!! talking about combos i find interesting

magali and hazel in one room, dani and corliss in the other. getting to be in the other half of the suite from magali is the only kindness i'll give corliss. still gonna get pestered to hell. everyone else gets along just fine.

eva and nicole, delja and skye. idk if i'vd had eva and nicole interact before but i think they'd get along! nicole would respect that eva isn't super social but they'd find a nice balance. meanwhile nicole the psych major would be vibrating trying to Be Appropriate with two hot messes living in the other room. can't not psychoanalyze them a LITTLE, just. keeps it to herself. meanwhile i dropped skye on delja because it's funny to me to associate her with another character who's a serial killer in the original canon. skye's toned down in College Edition but she's still a mess, and a bit intense, and oh suddenly i want them to kiss actually. delja how does this keep happening to you. also jay has his best friend/ex in one room and his next romantic interest in the other. that could actually be how he and nicole meet. i also vaguely remember him and eva interacting in the og canon? they got along, though jay was also using her to get at magali in that version so like. not a GREAT friend. maybe things will be better here, as much as they can be with jay

jay and dmitry, sebastien and oscar. i've made jay and dmitry friends in crossovers before, and also occasionally they smooch. i HAD to make them roomies. i can see them being FWBs for a bit until jay gets Eyes about nicole and dmitry gets Eyes about blaze, keep being friends after. jay and sebastien went to the same high school and MIGHT'VE known each other? my instinct is they were both at least semi-popular, might've had overlap in the same social groups. oh im figuring stuff out here actually that'll be a separate post. trverse interest still kickin. anyway i still have no clue who oscar is so we'll see what's going on there later

gabe and damon, jordan and owen. gabe and xander date eventually and damon and jordan date eventually so it's funny to me to have them swapped like this. literally the only reason they're set up this way.

michael and theo, malachi and zach. most of the attending former MMCverse cast stuffed into this suite. michael tormented theo some in MMC so elements of that will probably carry over. sorry theo. malachi and zach date eventually. both of them will probably get along with theo while side-eyeing michael. additionally theo gets absorbed into that friend group more when he starts ?dating? anah, since it and malachi are besties. oh they could meet via malachi bringing him along to a friend hangout sesh, like hey you wanna get away from your roomie a bit and chill with my friends instead?

wait i just realized juliette isn't assigned yet. the fuck. juli get in there you can room with panya

still need three more people for the girl's dorms. tempted to bring lily from MMCverse over but would she really come over with raphael. maybe she doesn't know he and michael get into the same school as her. she's theoretically friends with raphael, they're at least exes and bandmates, but i think she was probably looking forward to getting some space.

(lily was previously named jadon - like as of five minutes ago) but looking it up now that's typically a boy's name? not that i'm generally concerned about that, it's just she's trans and i think she'd name herself differently. looked up common transfem names because i thought it'd be cute to pick one for her, found both lily and lilith, and if i make her full name lilith i can keep up the biblical name trend for the former MMC crew lmao.)

okay lily and anah are now rooming together. more MMC matchups. also raphael hates anah in og canon, give them ways to interact and clash here. and i think anah could be good for lily. i like them becoming friends a lot actually!

[dhap53]

Ouroboros: Chapter 40

Our first matchup was against a witch, mage, and priest. Staring at the schedule, we were to go against them in the morning. Now, in fact. It was outside of our typical queueing time. But I didn’t think it mattered much.

In real life, my old habit of shutting doors started up again. Shutting them once. Twice. Thrice. Four times. It was always four times. It had to be in pairs. I couldn’t believe that this was happening, being in such a tourney of people. It was a pleasant distraction. In the background, I was surfing the internet, reading up on the current news happening in Japan and China. Nothing too noteworthy. Nothing that was pertinent to my eye.

I tried to focus on what was happening in the game, to the surrounding people. My thoughts were oscillating, however. The endless feedback loop of heavyhearted, dolefulness. If I lost, however, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. It was a time sink. Something to keep me busy until the next thing, the next one, but the problem was: I was someone who played to win. A highly competitive person. I remained on my feet. Remaining in some spot for too long—it drove me insane, made me motivated to do more.

[General] Tiffany: company has no idea what they're doing. content is overtuned, devs are tone-deaf and won't listen to feedback

[General] Platinumkappa: [message removed by moderator]

[General] Davidcopperfield: is it that bad

[General] Gerald: sounds like a case of the Mondays

[General] Deathdestroyer: would be lovely if you'd be more specific with how it's hard instead of qqing about how ur bad and not a scrub

[General] Yuridk: byeeeeeeeee unsub loser meanwhile im having fun :)

They were talking about the current patch, but all I was thinking about was this tournament and not fucking it up. Being in front of an audience and performing was nerve-wracking. I was the girl in the background, going into the bars, securing deals with neighboring factions. Maybe I had a drink one too many here and there, but that was besides the point. I had done my best to maintain peace within Fuzhou, fending businesses from each other. The money. I made so much money for my father. And I was going to make him even more money by uniting two of the strongest organizations in the mainland together. Too bad I decided against that fate, escaping his clutches and going to Japan.

Maksim approached me, metal staff in a balled fist. Feathers fell from the top as he towered over me, his robes flowing into the earth. They were the best tier set the game offered; we’d grinded up for weeks repeating the same dungeons, developing our routine for the competition. Getting the best gear was a chore, going through the dungeons and picking what was best in slot for our role was an arduous task because we kept getting garbage. Trash. Over and over again. Gear for slots that we didn’t need or armor we couldn’t wear. It was the type of game that we kept queueing into, playing, thinking that the right one would drop.

But here we were, on the day of the tourney, where audience members were crowding around us, waiting for the tournament to begin. In real life, my knees were knobby. I hadn’t been this nervous since the great removal of my traitorous uncle Wang who stole from my father 262,000 yuan—taking with him a battalion of men who were ferociously loyal to my father, supposedly. When my father was building his empire in Fuzhou, he had nothing but the scraps of man, a group of friends who only envisioned a better future. The future of a better community. The community where the working man would be in charge and then some. However, people departed, they took their money, they took people with them too; corruption was one hell of a thing in the system. Money was one of those things that ruined people from the inside out. A thing that wormed its way into the body and destroyed it.

“Your father has people here.” Maksim was quiet where no one could hear us. I was surprised he was saying it in the game.

“What makes you say that?” I asked, and I wanted to take off my VR headset and talk to him face-to-face because this was a matter of personal security, one of those things that required discretion.

“A friend of a friend told me.” And Maksim was lowering his staff, keeping it close to him. “Discerning who it is, you need to watch out.”

I inhaled. He was right. If I didn’t want to be dragged back into Fuzhou, back into that place where things would be left to the discretion of my father, where it would be me marrying some tech boy who was into cryptocurrency that was inherently bad for the environment and leading to the world’s destruction. The complex solving of arithmetic problems that was crypto farms only led to the destruction of beautiful flora of the planet. Biodiversity of the planet that deserved to be here and remain here.

The planet was only getting hotter, the more complex hardware coming out and people eating it up like hotcakes.

The sprawling metropolis that was Fuzhou, however, was one of those places that lacked those damnable farms, lacked the people who would use their GPUs as heaters in the wintertime, jokingly, as opposed to the Westerners. Many Chinese people would emigrate to the west, fleeing to so-called democracy, claiming they were being hampered by the government, cracked down by it. It was one of those realities that they needed to come to terms with, however; it was a condemnable thing, overall. Contributing to the downfall of humanity was a sinful act, one of those pernicious things that would usher in the next step of the world, a world of darkness and twilight. Billions of people were on the planet, growing, and, with it, came consequences of such a thing. Resource usage. The upheaval of land. Biodiversity loss.

I was shaking with excitement when we got inside the tournament realm, bouncing on my toes. I prepared for this day, waiting for the news to break out. My Russian was rusty, I wasn’t certain what our opposing team was named, other than “zak” meant to act which I had planned to do. Maksim was typing away at his keyboard; I could only imagine who he was speaking with. Hopefully, it wasn’t anyone that would stand at my door.

“Got another job for you,” he said stiffly. Maksim was inside the lobby with me, looking directly at me. “Another simple drop off. It will be a quick thing.”

I bobbed my head. 

“I also have my own job served up to me.”

I couldn’t fight the smile inching on my face. “Back to the old con ways?”

And he shrugged. “Going stir crazy here. You know me.”

Gladvlad entered the lobby with us, his dark armor sparkling in the dimly lit area. “Glad I could make it, heh.”

Maksim and I exchanged looks. “Right on time.”

I checked the time, going over how much longer we had until the match. Only five more minutes. I was on edge. Counting down the seconds was agonizing. No different from taking a cheese grater to someone’s cheek. And I saw one of my men do that before.

“Let’s go ahead inside,” and Gladvlad was gesturing towards the portal to the arena. His back disappeared into pixels, dispersing.

On my feet, I took my VR headset off and shut the door again and again. In pairs. Four times. I couldn’t believe this habit started again of all things. I thought I beat this habit. Maksim was looking at me with a vacant stare, wordlessly. He knew this was something I did to relieve tension. “Done?” he asked with a half smile.

“Yes.” I sat down in my chair and resumed my game. We both took the portal inside the arena to the crowd, whistling and clamoring. We were the first match. Something that everyone hyper focused on and invested their attention to. They

The referee came out, holding his arm out. He held us, watching us and counted down.

3.

2.

1.

“Go!”

And I enveloped myself in a dark cloak, hampering the shadowy ball of attacks bursting at my body, dealing minimal amounts of damage. I fell forward, coalescing into reality, leaping across the area and behind the mage and snapkicking her down. She fell, knees digging into the surface, but she grabbed my shoulder, rippling her magic, shattering my health halfway.

I backed away from her, lurching; I noted Maksim and Glad who was going after the witch who was materializing miniature skulls and pitching them at Glad. 

He swung his axe, deep, embedding it into the hand of the witch who tried to mitigate it. She was gritting her teeth, holding back the cleaver, rivulets of blood coming down her skin, her health fading. Her violet robe danced around her ankles as Glad pushed her backwards, embedding the axe furthering into her hand, yielding it useless. He chopped it right in half. Off came the joints.

I disabled the mage, driving my elbow into her chin, her head going skyward. Her body landed on the ground in a hard splat.

I was over at the priest in no time who was mending the wounds of the witch at a distance. I threw dirks at him that exploded in confetti and fireworks once they hit. They were filled with a debilitating poison, rendering his spells useless for the time. Glad was still working on the witch, lifting his axe with both his hands and up out of the witch. She spat shadows onto him, acid, eating into his armor through her teeth. 

He roared, taking his weapon, and drove it through her neck in one swoop. A clean cut. Her head went rolling, blonde hair tangled with her essence spilling out on the arena stage.

The audience was whistling and hollering. They roared with excitement. Glad and I were at the mage who was lifting clawed hands. Her eyes glowed with enormous sapphires, growing in diameter. She crashed an enormous amount of arcane energy into us, knocking us back. Maksim swiftly mended our scuffs and scrapes, and we were back on our feet again, diving after the mage. She gripped her staff, shoving it into the earth. 

In the corner of my eye, I saw the priest chanting a lengthy spell, his book flipping pages wildly. Glad plummeted his axe into the mage, but she easily repelled it. Her cerulean robes burst with power as she made him collapse to the ground. Glad writhed in agony. The metal clanged against the ground in a scraping sound.

I surged twilight magic into my daggers, preparing for a fatal attack. I beelined for the priest and slammed his book shut. The next second, he was cracking his staff against my skull, dropping me to the ground in a thud. He made me eat the end of his staff no different from a spear, eating away at my life.

I swept my leg across his legs, and he was flat on his ass. I had my daggers up to his throat, blade going up against his Adam's apple. I rammed it through, executing him in one blow. The priest was dead. Pivoting, I saw Glad lobbing off the arm of the mage from the shoulder. The unfortunate soul was still alive, and the crowd was cheering, crying out for the final blow.

Maksim hovered over us. I asked him, “Would you like to do the honor?”

And Maksim erupted his holy magic into the sorry soul, ridding her of the arena. 

And the arena went wild with cheers, clapping and screaming. 

[society1989]

gus van sant: the art of making movies by katya tylevich & the de palma decade: redefining cinema with doubles, voyeurs, and psychic teens by laurent bouzereau | BOOK REVIEW

🗓️ DATE RELEASED;

NOVEMBER 2021 & SEPTEMBER 2024

📚 GENRE;

NONFICTION/FILM

⭐️ PERSONAL RATING;

ENJOYED BOTH, THOUGH I PREFERRED TYLEVICH’S STRUCTURE AND WRITING. EXTRA THOUGHTS BELOW THE CUT.

💭 thoughts;

i love behind-the-scenes info on film, so when i saw these two books in my library, of course i picked them up lol! gus van sant is one of my favorite directors, and while i haven't seen much (or any) of brian de palma's filmography, his work is undoubtedly iconic and has inspired so many, so i had to check it out! in katya tylevich's book, she goes over the creative life of gus van sant from his college days to possible future work. meanwhile, laurent bouzereau focuses on a specific decade of de palma's work: the 70s to early 80s.

both books include interviews from the aforementioned filmmakers, but in bouzereau’s book, there is also interviews from cast and crew members. tylevich only presents to us gus van sant’s perspective and what he can remember. for visual readers, both books contain images to accompany the text, either of film stills or behind-the-scenes photographs and scripts. if you want a collection of interviews and analysis of the material, de palma’s book is for you. while well organized by themes, the movies aren’t presented in a chronological fashion. not my biggest complaint, but i can see why that would bother other readers. we get insight into most, if not all, creative choices - even deleted/scrapped scenes from earlier scripts! i will be honest, im not sure how much this information was publicly available before the book so i am gonna take it with a grain of salt. but what i do know is that even with the internet, some things just aren’t archived. so seeing reviews and public reception from that time period is really interesting, especially negative backlash from activist groups that are now extinct. regardless, still neat info!

gus van sant’s book follows a chronological order - as a said earlier - from his college days to the present. we get insight into van sant’s early trials and tribulations in figuring out the type of filmmaker he’d later create, finding the right crew and cast for his scripts, and why we see what we see on screen. i know my explanation is sort of lacking, but i think its best if anyone interested in more reads the book. still trying to keep it somewhat vague here haha. but if you like learning the technical and crew aspect of film, this book might interest you.

it was a really interesting experience reading both back to back and comparing the two filmmakers: tylevich directly compare and contrasts gus van sant and alfred hitchcock’s type of directing and style. since de palma has been called a hitchcock disciple, by extension this felt like a direct relation to de palma. even with hitchcock’s influence on his technicality and focus on images, there’s that sense of surrealism that’s also found in van sant’s death trilogy. the most ‘van sant’ film of his might be obsession (1976) and carrie (1976), and vice versa, van sant’s most de palma-esque film could be to die for (1995). but that’s just my opinion!

though very different directors with different artistic focuses, i feel that both their body of works share a theme of tradgedies and outsider characters (which the writers highlight in depth). palma has carrie, the psychic twins of the fury (1978), and winslow leach of phantom of the paradise. van sant has the found family in drugstore cowboy (1989), alex of paranoid park (2007), and scott favor in my own private idaho (1991). each of these stories focus on a character who crosses the threshold into an area that does not belong to them - carrie the laughing stock of her highschool made prom queen, scott favor is a rich boy/mayor’s son who rebels against his father by becoming a hustler, alex follows a stranger into an unknown skate park, etc. this intrusion culminates in a tragedy, almost always death. even with this bleak focus, there is something so emotional about the way the two directors handle these stories. the plot isnt just about the pain and the inevitable - there is real hope and sincerity that is made real through these characters - they were not created just to experience the ending. they become real to us throughout the film, in part becoming the tragedy and loss. tylevich and bouzereau both illustrate these connecting themes beautifully in their writing and, even through words, the work of van sant and de palma is palpable.

[seoafin]

AHHHHHHHHH SERA UR COMMENTS!!!!!

ripmc is getting that phd in history babey i feel like her niche would probably be the heian period. that's where most of her historical document stuff come into play! also she researches curses you could say it's a hobby turned side job. other than that she's kinda unrecognizable. if people know her it's as sashisu's classmate. no name. no face. nobody important.

the bride is an oc that is coming back in a later chapter lmfaoooo you could say im subverting the shoujo typical love triangle (love...square????) we do NOT hate women in this space!!!!!

stsg's argument is meant to be vague! especially since we're reading from rip!mc's perspective lol i do want to write a stsg companion piece eventually. one day. but let me try to finish THIS fic first fsjdfnk but yeah it's never explicitly revealed why they're arguing but i feel like it's implied??? maybe only in my head 😭😭😭 but it's definitely not your memory issues it's intentionally left hazy!!!

LMAOOO she DOES let stsg walk over her. even shoko at times. but shoko is also aware of it and tries not to. but sometimes ripmc needs to be....bullied. shoko has the best of intentions! meanwhile stsg 100% know what they're doing. they also fully take advantage that ripmc has never said no to them (not unless it involves other people)

im SOOOO glad that you brought up her wanting things for herself and choosing them!!!!! (it's going to happen. starting with a cat gojo loathes.) it's literally the first step in ripmc like...actually becoming a person with normal desires and wants and BOUNDARIES. especially in a relationship with stsg.....

ANOTHER POINT I LOVED YOU BROUGHT UP! ripmc as a character. you are so spot on because when i originally wrote rip2myyouth and everything ripmc wasn't SUPPOSED to have a character! the og rip2myyouth is INTENTIONALLY left vague and blank. she's a completely barebones character whose defining trait is being traumatized by the hidden inventory arc. back then people weren't as receptive?? to mc's with actual personalities. not like they are now! i was trying my best to be aware of that when i originally wrote it. like my first draft of rip is actually drastically different. like the first iteration of ripmc is an adrenaline junkie LOL i eventually scrapped it bc i thought it'd be better to go with a blanker character. and then when i decided to give ripmc an actual personality it BECAME her personality!!! she naturally became apathetic and deadpan and straightforward. im soooo glad you brought it up because i've been wanting to talk about ripmc's character conceptualization for a hot second!!!!!

unfortunately stsg in this fic are rock solid. it's a petty argument i think you'll see soon djsfskfkjsd. and hideo IS going to be a catalyst!!!!! having an actual friend(s) outside sashisu is going to completely change rip!mc's life LOL and give her a better perspective on like...everything. hideo....king. he's genuinely a great guy. rip.

i think the absolutely sick thing about ripmc and stsg's dynamic is that ripmc is the absolutely perfect vehicle to be coddled by stsg. what's she going to do? speak up about it? LMFAO she loves them so much she'll let them do whatever they want.

dog days are over | chapter three

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): beginnings of a panic attack, mentions of implied dissociation and depression, slight nsfw word count: ~7.7k

fic masterlist read on ao3

There’s a wedding.

You know this because Satoru is holding a pristine white invitation with elaborately floral borders and calligraphy so curled it’s difficult for you to read it when for all intents and purposes, you are used to handling and deciphering historical accounts and journals.

That’s not the only thing.

The invitation had been addressed to both Satoru and Suguru.

The two of them are getting invitations sent as one. It means something. It’s an acknowledgement. Unspoken, but palpable. 

Satoru flicked the invitation open, indifferently scanned the contents, and threw it on the nearest surface (the desk in front of him) with a lazy flick of his wrist. In his words: a higher up’s daughter was getting married to some big shot young politician. Their honored presences was humbly requested. They’d be delighted to have the strongest in attendance for the joyous occasion.

You picked up the invitation and scanned the date. Next month, on the sixteenth. A Friday. You have off on that Friday. You know that because there is an exhibit one of your professors is curating at the Tokyo National Museum you had planned on asking Satoru and Suguru to.

Satoru doesn't really respond well to invitations. You could still ask him—

“Friday’s going to be a real pain.” Satoru texts away on his phone. You watch as Suguru replies in real time. You wonder if the two of them have resolved all of their problems if they’re texting normally. 

“Oh,” you say, surprised. “You’re going?”

Satoru’s gaze momentarily flicks up at you, holding your gaze for a few seconds, before returning to the screen. “Might as well.” The words come out begrudgingly. Satoru makes a face at his phone, presumably one of Suguru’s texts, and types out a long response.

You suppose that means that they have plans already. You don’t mind. You had been intending on going alone anyway.

Your own phone vibrates in your pocket. It’s a message from Shoko.

Ieiri Shoko

[4:31] there’s a wedding

[4:32] i have been invited to a wedding

[4:33] Satoru and Suguru too. Satoru said he’s going. Suguru too. Probably.

[4:33] ? Those two? lolololololol 

[4:34] I didn’t think Satoru was going to go. 

[4:36] your guess is as good as mine.

[4:36] how about you come with me? be my plus one

[4:36] say yes

You stare at Shoko’s text. Come…with her? To the wedding? You hadn’t expected to be invited. Either as a person or a plus one. You wouldn’t know anybody. The thought of being surrounded by people somewhere clearly didn’t belong makes you nervous. You won’t be able to rely on Satoru or Suguru or even Shoko’s presence. They’d be busy, too busy for you. You’d stand in a corner and stay quiet, and people would brush over you, a nameless person of little importance and significance.

If you’re being honest, it doesn’t sound like a good time. If Shoko really needed you it’d be one thing. But you’re sure your presence wouldn’t be missed. 

You’d let her down gently. 

You press out of the chat just as Satoru stands up to peer down your head and squint at your phone. You wonder what has him so curious, and shut your phone off and look up. 

“We should go meet up with Shoko and Suguru, shouldn’t we?”

Satoru only sighs, rubbing at his neck with a faintly irritated look on his face. That’s not good.

He takes your hand and leads you out the door.

----

Dinner is fraught with tension. You look from Satoru to Suguru who are pointedly refusing to look at each other, which is difficult, considering they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder in a crammed yakitori restaurant. 

You’re…unsure what exactly is going on. You thought your worries about Satoru and Suguru were a worry for the past, but now, it’s impossible to ignore the pointed silence, Suguru’s cool silence, or even Satoru’s increasing agitation. Without the usual sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, it’s even easier to tell Satoru's patience is running thin.

You look to Shoko, whose head rests on your shoulder as she idly scans the menu, unbothered.

“We should share the chicken meatballs,” she says. “And the squid. I’ll order two draft beers, and maybe some plum wine…”

You make noncommittal noise. Then look back to Satoru and Suguru, wondering what you can say to dissolve the tension and make them look at each other again.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Excited for the wedding?”

You smile encouragingly when they look at you.

“No,” Satoru says, unhappily. “Not really.”

You wonder why he’s even going in the first place. Is it because of Suguru? Are they fighting over attending the wedding? That sounds wrong. Satoru doesn’t like to put up with troublesome things, but for Suguru, a four hour wedding was nothing.

“Only children think the world bends to their whims,” Suguru remarks pleasantly, despite the sharp edge of his words. “Adults should know better. Even Mimiko and Nanako know better. Tsumiki and Megumi—”

If there’s one thing Satoru can’t handle, it’s a lecture from Suguru. That hasn’t changed since high school.

“Yeah?” There’s a dangerous challenge on Satoru’s tongue as his eyes narrow in accusation. “I know what I want. If that makes me a child, then fine. At least one of us does.”

“Shoko,” you whisper to her. “Something’s wrong.”

Contrary to your own panic, Shoko’s watches the two, amused. “The only thing wrong here is that I don’t have a beer.” She waves a waitress over just as Satoru and Suguru fall into stony faced silence.

A young, fresh faced waitress with her hair tied up in a ponytail bounds up to the table. Shoko lists half the menu, ordering for the table. Then she orders drinks. Alcohol for you and her, a melon soda for Satoru, water for Suguru.

“Make that three,” Suguru interjects. “I’ll have a beer too.”

She flushes prettily when Suguru gives her a polite smile, slyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. Satoru’s face darkens.

“How is medical school?” You ask Shoko. “You’re taking care of yourself, right?” You hope she’s taking breaks in between her studies and her work at the school, eating well, and sleeping a good seven hours every night. 

She faces you, cheek flattened on her open palm. “I should be asking you that. Do you even remember to eat if I don’t remind you?” She pokes your nose.

“I eat,” you say, a touch defensively, but you already know Shoko knows better. Sometimes, you forget to eat. Sometimes it’s too much of a bother. You're fine though. Healthy enough.

“Hmmm.” She turns her attention to Satoru and Suguru. “This wedding is going to be awfully awkward if you two don't kiss and make up soon.”

“Everything’s fine,” Suguru says civilly. He softens at your concerned look. “It’s fine.”

You don’t believe him.

Satoru’s gaze is flinty. “Who says we’re even going together?” 

“You’re free to go by yourself,” Suguru replies, serenely unbothered.

“Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll go with Shoko.”

“Absolutely not,” she says immediately. “I’ve already got a plus one.”

Your stomach drops, put on the spot. You hadn’t had the time to think of an adequate excuse to avoid the wedding as Shoko’s date. It’s too late for excuses if Shoko’s already told them you’re going. You can’t let her look the fool by backing out now!

They look at you. Your lips curl in an automatic smile.

There’s the beginnings of a playful grin on her face. “We’re picking out dresses tomorrow, aren’t we?”

“Yeah…”

Well, if any good came out of this wedding, it would have to be getting to go dress shopping with Shoko and helping her pick out a formal dress. You’d like that. You always thought she looked good in bold colors, and if the occasion warrants it, she’ll wear her bright red lipstick. You already feel lighter, excited at the prospect of seeing her in all different types of dresses. You’d take the job seriously, make sure you help her pick the best—

“Kimono,” Satoru states.

“Dress,” Suguru asserts.

You blink. Their gazes clash, and you can feel a chill come over you. What are they fighting over now? This might even be worse than the several occasions they fought in high school. Never had they fought about anything that couldn’t be settled with a good fistfight. Something tells you this runs deeper. It’s more than a trivial burst of high tempers, more than juvenile attitudes at work.

“What?”

A lazy smile hangs from Shoko's lips. She is thoroughly amused, taking everything in as if she’s at the theater. “I asked them whether or not I should put you in a kimono or a dress for the big event.”

You didn’t even think about what you’d wear to the wedding. You assumed Shoko would give you something. And if not, you could just go shopping. If Shoko was too busy to come, then Ijichi usually had a good eye for silhouette and fashion. You worry about your kouhai once more. He really is too competent for his own good. You hope you won't be troubling him too much in the future.

You are discomfited. You don’t want the hypotheticals of something as inconsequential as what you plan to wear to an event to be another point of contention between them.

“That’s…I don’t really care what I wear.”

“Whatever you want to wear,” Suguru says reassuringly. “I’m sure you’ll look perfect regardless.”

You warm at Suguru’s words, unexpectedly abashed as you lower your gaze to your lap. It’s hard to think of yourself as perfect, especially in terms of appearances when you’re anything but. You determinedly meet Shoko’s eyes. “I’ll do my best not to embarass you,” you say deathly serious.

You’ll do your best to be sociable, speak when spoken to, and try not to let yourself get caught up in all the important people you’re sure are going to be in attendance. You figure if anything this could be practice. Making new friends. Although all you’ve known for the last years of your life is Satoru and Suguru and Shoko. Occasionally Utahime when she visits down from Kyoto. Mei Mei too, even. You can’t rely on them forever, you know this. It’s easy to forget the monotony of the days before you entered high school. Days passing while in a trance, food tasting bland, the perpetual buzzing in your ears. You slept and slept and slept. You spent more days asleep than awake until you were inevitably needed for another mission.

You don’t think you had known what it meant to live, in those days. You didn’t know that the salty breeze of the ocean was a sensation in your nose that felt akin to the seconds before a sneeze. You didn’t know that the colored disco lights in a small karaoke room could bring you so much joy. You didn’t know that hot summer days could be idle, that eating a popsicle with friends could be a momentous occasion. All of these moments, engraved on your heart. You’d take them to the grave, and you’d be content.

You still occasionally experience these fits of sadness so encompassing you drown in it. Especially around certain times in the year. Sometimes, you find it difficult to wake up. There’s a boulder in your chest, pressing on your lungs and weighing you down. You sleep for days. Wake up to remind yourself that you still exist, and close your eyes. Other days, you feel your body move on auto pilot, from one destination to another, cursory smiles and words. You don’t remember much of anything. Just that when you wake up, you feel yourself again. And if you don’t, you sleep and repeat until you do.

It’s a troubling matter to articulate. Something you’ve never quite put into words. If it’s an inconvenience to you, it’d be an annoyance to others. So you keep quiet, and hope it stays a secret, where it won’t bother anyone.

“As if that matters,” she sighs, eyeing you warmly. “ You’re not that one that needs to worry about embarrassing me.”

She side eyes the two men seated across from you, and sighs. "Hopeless.” She flings the word at them. 

Your waitress returns with skewers of meats and vegetables and more. Shoko gratefully takes her drinks, and downs half of it down. Then she takes a chicken skewer.

The rest of your meal continues in either silence or short lived conversation. Suguru asks about your thesis. About Shoko soldiering through medical school. Shoko orders more alcohol. You ask him and Satoru about Kyoto, since the two of them have been spending more and more time at Kyoto tech for one thing or another. Meetings, clan visits, Satoru visiting members of the Gojo clan, etc. You stick to safe topics of discussion, and decide that any talk about matchmaking ceremonies or arranged marriages is dangerous.

It’s only so often that the four of you can meet up like this. Adult responsibilities and all. You hope Satoru and Suguru make up soon. To you, this time is precious. And even with Satoru and Suguru refusing conversation with each other, you’re happy to be with them.

The night goes by in a blink of an eye. Shoko orders another round of drinks. Soon it’s twelve in the morning, and Shoko calls for the check. You’re getting ready to leave when your waitress approaches apprehensively.

“Excuse me,” she says, fingers curled around a piece of paper. You watch eagerly, excited at being able to watch a confession unfold. But the storminess in Satoru’s expression creeps back in and you sweat. She hesitates, gaze flicking from Satoru, back to Suguru, and draws back with a shake of her head. The scrap of paper clenches in her hand. “I’m sorry, I thought—” 

“Oh, I am,” Suguru smiles. “Single.”

Shoko chokes on her laughter. Satoru doesn’t look amused in the slightest, jealousy as palpable as a strike of lightning and the aftermath smell of burnt grass. You stare down at your lap, willing yourself to be as small as possible, discomfort prickling at your chest.

“Oh…Oh! Then I—” she flushes, looking back at the gaggle of other waitresses towards the cash register, two of whom give her a thumbs up. She extends her arms, bowing her head, piece of paper tucked between her fingers. It looks like an offering. An offering of Valentine’s day chocolate. “I wanted you to have this! Just—just in consideration of me!”

It’s undoubtedly endearing. You’ve never been in love. You wonder if you were normal, if it’d come more naturally to you. If you were a normal girl without the occasional bouts of terror and sadness and the all consuming exhaustion. Without the need to hide away every once in a while. Someone who could lead a happy and guiltless life. You wonder if you had ever had a chance. A possibility for you to be loved. Or if it had been the inevitable circumstances of your birth that had condemned you to a lonely, forgotten existence.

Shoko takes you by the arm, excusing the two of you for fresh air, before you can hear or see Suguru’s response. 

Outside, snow is beginning to fall. You stare at it as it lazily floats onto buildings, Shoko’s head, the ground. You brush the white off her head as she lights a cigarette and inhales with a gusto.

“I needed this!” She rests against the brick of the restaurant and exhales. “Those two love to make their business everyone’s problem, huh.”

Your lips twitch, despite the gravity of the situation. “I’m worried about them.”

“They’ll be fine,” she briefly stares at the lit end of her cigarette, the ashes flickering to the floor, before meeting your gaze. “They always are, aren’t they?”

----

You immediately feel out of place as you and step into the hotel’s banquet hall for the wedding reception. It’s beautiful, decorated with flowers, vines that hang from the ceiling and down the columns, and ice sculptures set up around the floor. Round tables with designated seating and personalized name cards set atop the plates fill the venue while leaving the middle of the room, the dance floor, open. Not a single yen wasted.

You scan the crowd of faces for Shoko, or even Satoru or Suguru. There’s not a single recognizable face. You swallow down your growing unease, adjust the silk skirt of your dress, and try your best to inspire confidence in yourself. 

You slowly take in the rest of the grand room, take a glass of champagne offered, and then realize you’re too nervous to drink. There seems to be an unusual amount of people concentrated around the main entrance. Your skin prickles uncomfortably. Years later, you still don’t do well around consistent crowds of people. Sometimes, it feels like if you’re slowly suffocating, boxed in where the walls are slowly closing in on you.

It’s not a pleasant feeling. You walk in the opposite direction and try to tune it out, careful not to grip the champagne glass too tightly. You hadn’t been invited to the actual wedding procession. You wouldn’t be invited to the Shinto ceremony either. That was reserved only for a special group of guests. You’re glad for it. You don’t know if you can survive in close quarters with people important enough to run the country of Japan.

“There you are,” a familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts, a hand on your shoulder.

You turn, brightening. “Shoko!”

She looks stunning in the dark crimson gown she picked out when the two of you had gone dress shopping, and you can already see a few interested glances in her direction. Her hair is braided up, exposing her slender neck, and you can smell the cypress of her favorite perfume. You catch yourself staring at the red lining her lips, a few shades lighter than dress. If anything, you think being able to see Shoko like this is worth all the troubles of pretending to be… somebody.  

“How was the wedding?” You hand her your own untouched champagne. She lifts it to her lips and it’s gone.

That gets a grin out of her. “Interesting.”

She tells you that it had been an arranged marriage, and the bride had staunchly resisted the match, to the last second, which explained the closed, intimate ceremony. Furthermore, the bride refused to write and recite her vows, which had made for an entertaining scene on the altar. And that when the groom had leaned down to kiss her, she had angled her face away, so that his lips had collided with her cheek instead of lips.

The story is entertaining. Though you can’t help but feel bad for the bride, forced into a marriage by forces outside her control. What if she was already in love with somebody else? What if she had no interest in marriage? What is she didn't want a husband?

Shoko draws back a step, looking you up and down with a nod of approval. She smooths out the neckline of your dress. “I thought you’d look good in this one. It makes me want to show you off.”

You glance down at the silk dress adorned on you, so soft it ripples with every movement. It’s a pretty dress, although you’re sure you don’t do it justice.

“How are Satoru and Suguru?” You ask hesitantly.

Shoko tilts her head towards the main entrance. “How about you ask them yourself?”

Upon closer inspection, you realize the crowd of people around the entrance had been gathered around Satoru and Suguru. Huh. You didn’t originally notice them. You must have been too caught up in your head.

“No thanks,” you say, not wanting to intrude, but you take the time to watch them for a little longer.

Suguru’s face is animated with a bright smile as he converses with several other older guests, head slightly inclined in a politely deferential stance. They’re both in Kimonos. Matching colors. That brings a smile to your face. Still united in some way even if they may be in the midst of a long standing argument.

Satoru’s face is shaded with sunglasses, a suspiciously blank expression in the indifferent set of his lips. You aren’t sure you’ve caught his eye, but he perks in your direction, and when you raise your hand in a slight wave, he straightens.

Shoko weaves her arm through yours. “Alright, let’s get more drinks!”

You catch the frown forming on his lips just as Shoko tugs you away.

Shoko manages to get an entire bottle of champagne. Then she leads you to the largest table in the room, towards the front of the banquet hall, and gestures to your seat next to hers before taking a seat and filling her glass back up.

“I healed the bride’s father a while back,” she says, taking a sip of the champagne. “Stage 4 kidney cancer.” She makes a face. “I hate making house calls, but the higher ups insisted. I’m not trying to become a private doctor.”

“He must have been grateful.”

“He was,” she snorts. “He tried to buy me into his employ.” She leans back into her seat, looking at the banquet hall. “The man certainly has the money.”

“You like it at jujutsu tech,” you say with a bright smile. “You’d never leave us.” You’d like to think she’d never leave you.  

“I wouldn’t leave you,” she says, matter of factly. “How could I leave you with those two insensitive jerks?"

You’re so pleased you don’t think your smile can contain it all. She said she wouldn’t leave you. The champagne you took one sip of sits bubbly in your stomach. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be that bad. Less work, more money…” you shrug. “If it made you happy, I wouldn’t mind.” Jujustu tech would probably fall apart without Shoko, so you leave that part out. You just want her to be happy.

She exhales. “I’m happy where I am right now.”

The two of you share a smile.

Shoko’s bottle inevitably runs empty while she recounts a funny incident in medical school involving a cadaver, and you offer to get her another one.

When you come back, there’s a man you don’t recognize in your seat, conversing with Shoko. You wonder what they’re talking about, for Shoko to look so unusually engaged. You’ve observed her in all her varying degrees of disinterest and moods to be able to read her well. You don’t want to disturb her. So you drop the bottle on the nearby counter of the open bar and turn on your heels to do another lap around the room. Once again, you spot Suguru and Satoru, who have relocated to underneath one of the glass stained windows running the length of the wall of the room.

Satoru is with the groom, a tall man with handsome features dressed in a tailored black suit. The rising star politician, you assume. Next to him, his sullen bride stands, surly disposition visible all the way from your place in the room. A stunning emerald dress is draped across her figure, ending at her ankles. Her arms are crossed. Satoru’s lips move in response.

Next to him, a couple feet away, Suguru is talking to a woman dressed in a silver colored heavy furisode, the two of them deep in conversation. Your interest is piqued. You can’t quite see her face, her back towards you, but you think she may be Suguru’s matchmaking attendee. 

You should give them privacy. Well. You shouldn’t be gawking at them. You turn just as someone else steps behind you, colliding into them. The ensuing collision has you precariously teetering back. Before you can regain your balance, a strong hand wraps around your upper arm, another around your waist, steadying you at once.

“You alright?”

The man you bumped into you gives you a dirty look, before continuing on his way. You look at the man. There’s something familiar about the set of his cheekbones, the curl of his lips in an easy smile, his dark green gaze, like the clearing of a forest. You’ve had this thought before, long ago. When the green of a boy’s eyes made you remember there was color in the world.

“Yes,” you reply slowly, waiting for him to let you go. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“I’ve been watching you.”

You stare at him, unsure of how to take his comment. Watching…you…? You hope you haven’t done anything embarrassing. “Excuse me…?”

He promptly drops his arms and steps away. You slowly move to take a step back. Maybe you could pretend someone was calling you over—

“Wait a minute! That made me sound—” he shakes his head. “Wait.” He extends his hand, a wide grin on his face. “Let's start over! Shirokami Hideo.”

It clicks. Oh. You know this man. Well, you knew the boy. You don’t remember much from your time at the Kamo compound. It’s a series of blurred faces and muffled voices. Long stretches of darkness. You slept a lot back then too, you think, because the only thing you do remember in clarity is the sandalwood scent of your comforter, and your preference for sleeping on futons. 

“Hideo-kun,” you say, as you remember a shallow brook deep in the forest, and the boy who had taught you to catch fireflies with his hands. You wonder how and why you had forgotten in the first place. You left the Kamo compound, and forgot it all in the monotony of the ensuing years. His voice is deeper, and he’s grown into his face, but if nothing else, his eyes are the same. “I remember you.”

He beams. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Do you still like stargazing?”

---

The surprise must be evident on your face because he sheepishly scratches his face. “The first time you talked to me, it was to tell me that I was looking at the Canis Major, not the Crow.”

You don’t remember it, but it touches you just the same. To think that someone remembered you, even when you didn’t. You had left a piece of yourself in someone.

You take a bite of your lobster, nodding. “I do. I try to go when I can. But I’ve been so busy lately…” You’ve also been meaning to take the kids with you one night. When the weather warms up, you’ll bring them to the mountains. They’d like that. You know Tsumiki was delighted when you gave her a book that illustrated the constellations. You had bought it for her with Megumi on one of your outings.

Hideo nods in sympathy. “It’s tough being a jujutsu sorcerer. Trust me, I’m taking advantage of the low season to take time off to relax!”

The two of you sit at a table tucked away in the far corner. Hideo’s table. There had been an empty seat which he offered. You gratefully accepted, especially when you managed to catch a glimpse of your original table. You had seen Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru. Along with the bride, groom, and a couple other distinguished people seated at the table. You’re glad to escape from the scrutiny. You do much better in obscurity. 

You spent the last hour catching up. Hideo was mainly located in Kyoto, with his clan, a Kamo branch family, but he had been preparing to move to Tokyo for a change in scenery.

You knew him for a brief three months, before his return to his clan for his mother’s funeral. He regretted not being able to leave you a note, or tell you that he was leaving. He tried to contact you after, but nobody knew your whereabouts, especially since you moved back to Tokyo and was subsequently lost in the system.

Currently, with his father on bedrest, he was preparing to take over the clan from Tokyo. The move to Tokyo is an effort to bridge the gap and relationship between the Tokyo and Kyoto jujtusu societies.

In return, you offered your own mundane and uneventful recollection of your life up to this point. Compared to Hideo’s, you didn’t have much to offer. You moved to Tokyo after studying the katana at the Kamo compound. Undertook missions as expected of you, and lived alone up until high school. Then you enrolled in jujutsu tech. Now you’re in school for your masters, and then hopefully, a PHD.

It feels odd to talk to someone other than Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru. You don’t know Hideo nearly as well, despite a brief history together. Where you can search for familiarity in the softness of Suguru’s smile, the mischievous curl of Shoko’s lips, Satoru’s straightforward demeanor, there’s nothing here to cling to. You don’t remember what it ever meant to be without them. It’s alarming. It’s frightening.

But you think this is what it means to start anew.

The room quiets as a spoon taps glass. Attention gathers towards the table in the middle of the room where an older man in a tuxedo stands. It’s a five minute speech that you don’t really give much thought to, your thoughts with the bride who looks precariously close to storming out of the room.

Hideo tilts his head towards you, his lips in your ear. “She doesn’t look too happy, huh.”

You have to agree.

There are three more speeches. You don’t recognize anybody. Soon after, conversation fills the room once more.

During a lull in a conversation, you excuse yourself to the restroom for a few minutes to yourself. Upon entering the brightly lit room, your gaze is directed towards a woman seated on one of the loveseats in front of a large, wall length mirror, fixing her makeup. You recognize her silver kimono immediately, and when the small, compact mirror slips from her hand and onto the floor by your feet, you bend down to hand it to her. There’s a lotus engraved onto the back of the mirror. 

“Thank you,” she says delicately, fingers brushing yours as she takes back her mirror. Up close, you take in her full appearance. The delicate contours of her light makeup to her exceptionally beautiful hazel eyes. Her brown hair is shoulder length, brushing her shoulders, bangs immaculately cut across her forehead. She looks like a doll, even more so when she gives you an inquisitive look, a polite smile curling her lips.

“Is something the matter?” 

You realize you’ve been staring. Your face burns. “I’m sorry,” you say, voice reedy, unable to articulate how lovely you think she looks, or how you had seen her talking to Suguru earlier, and whether or not she is who you think she is. So you simply awkwardly look at her. Nod your head in a curt goodbye and turn back around, intent on not speaking to anyone but Hideo for the rest of the evening, lest you embarrass yourself further.

You run right into someone’s chest, and hear a familiar voice say your name, the familiar scent of sandalwood in your nose, as a hand on your upper arm rights you back up.

“Suguru,” you say happily, looking at him. Up close, you think he looks especially handsome in his dark blue kimono. His usually pulled up hair is down, flowing down his back. You like it when he lets his hair down. You didn’t think you’d get to see him, or even talk to him today. “I seem to be bumping into a lot of people today…”

Concern immediately colors his face as he smooths your hair down and fixes the shoulder of your dress. His hand stays on your shoulder, thumb tracing your collarbone in comforting motions. “Everything alright?”

“Yes!” You reply immediately to assuage his concern, if anything. You hope he's alright. Or at least making nice with Satoru for the duration of this event. You're sure they've grown past making a public spectacle of their arguments, but one can never be too sure. “I’m no good at these types of events. I guess I’m just a little nervous…”

“I was looking for you,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “Shoko said you were…” his features grow taunt, lips tugging into a slight frown, “fine. But you weren’t in your seat.”

Shoko must have seen you with Hideo. Which meant she looked for you. Your smile grows wider. However, even the thought of returning to your designated seat surrounded by the most important people at the event you’d be expected to converse with makes your stomach twist. Embarrassing yourself was one thing. Embarrassing Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko was another.

“She’s right,” you confirm, doing your best to reassure him. “I found an old friend!”

His lips reflexively twitch into a smile, maintaining an amiable expression, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “An…old friend…?”

“I’ve been with him the entire time, so you don’t need to worry. I’ll introduce you,” you say eagerly, excited at the prospect of being able to introduce Hideo to Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. “He—”

“Are you cold?” Suguru suddenly asks you lightly, hand slightly squeezing your shoulder. “The air condition is cold in here, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” you blink. “...Are you cold?” That wouldn’t do. Maybe you could ask the hotel receptionist—

“Geto-sama,” a voice interrupts, “I didn’t think I’d find you out here.” You turn, seeing the woman in the silver kimono, once more, smiling, a fresh layer of red painting her lips. You straighten, resisting the urge to smooth out your dress.

“I was on my way to get some air,” Suguru answers with a smile of his own. “I ran into a close friend.” He chuckles goodnaturedly. “I’m trying to convince her to come back with me.”

Come back with him?

Her gaze slides to you. If she remembers you, her expression is unreadable. Her eyes slightly widen. “Oh my,” she lifts her hand to her mouth. “Is it your seat I’ve taken? My apologies—”

“Oh, it’s fine!” You wave her off. She looks genuinely apologetic. “Please, take my seat. I’ve found another with an old friend.”

“Is that so…” She trails off, glancing up at Suguru. “Forgive me, we haven’t been properly introduced.” She lowers her head. “Sasaki Kumiko. Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”

You reply with your own name, and an encouraging smile.

“Speaking of,” you step away. “I’ve kept Hideo-kun waiting long enough. Why don’t you take her with you to get fresh air, Suguru?”

“It would be a pleasure,” Kumiko says, eyes brightening at the idea, giving a face a certain type of incandescent joy. “I would love to accompany you.”

You don’t wait for his reply to make yourself scarce. You give his hand a little squeeze, before making your way back to Hideo.

The two of you fall back into easy conversation and talk until the moon is high and bright in the sky. Plates are cleared and guests start to rise once again, mingling and talking as the dancefloor begins to fill up.

You’re unsure of what to do. Should you look for Shoko again? You’re not much of a dancer. You don’t want to hold her back with your discomfort. Hideo lightly taps on your arm, bending down to whisper into your ear: “There’s a garden outside. Do you want to walk with me?”

You are instantly relieved. With everybody crowded around the dance floor to witness the bride and groom’s first dance, the two of you would be able to slip outside. Nobody would be there. You could get away.

You nod, and he takes your hand, leading you towards the exit leading to the hotel lobby, and then outside. As the two of you step out into the pebble lined path, lit up in anticipation for the wedding, you can still hear the strings of the quartet playing from the ballroom. Immaculately tended flowers line the path, flowers of every color and shape. You sigh, feeling the tension slipping from your body. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you. Earlier.” Hideo laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, turning to you earnestly. “I saw you earlier, and I spent so much time thinking of what to say to you that I completely forgot what I was going to say!”

You laugh, despite the outside chill trailing over your body. You relate to the feeling of your tongue not working at times. “You didn’t scare me. But I did think you mistook me for someone else at first,” you admit. You were initially perturbed, that was true. You’re glad he cleared the air before you managed to escape. You’re glad that you’ve met him again, after all these years.

The path opens to a small clearing with an empty fountain as Hideo fondly details his short lived time at the main Kamo estate with you. At the Kamo compound, he was one of many boys, left alone to his own devices in favor of the more elite sons of the family. It was the first time he had ever tasted freedom away from his own clan estate, where he was coddled by servants and his sickly mother.

Upon your silence, he looks at you, concerned. “Is it cold?” He moves to take off his jacket but you stop him.

“It’s not that,” you blurt out. The cold feels good on your skin. Calms you down. “I don’t remember much from back then. It’s all…hazy.” Any recollection of your childhood draws a blank. It makes you feel bad that you can’t dignify his memories with your own. “But I know that…” you trail off, staring at your feet. “You were kind to me. Back then.” Even you know that you hadn’t been in the right state of mind so soon after your father died. You wanted to leave the past behind. You didn’t want to remember. You had to forget to survive.

You sit down on the cold surface of stone, and exhale. You didn’t realize Hideo’s appearance would dredge up the past like this. You feel tired all of a sudden. You want to go back to the apartment you’ve made a home, curl up in your bed, and let sleep claim you once more.

A weight settles on your shoulders as the warmth of Hideo’s jacket envelopes you. He takes a seat next to you, gaze searching yours. 

“You were a child,” he says gently. “It’s okay to forgive yourself—”

You don’t hear the rest of his words as blood rushes to your ears. You can’t swallow the lump in your throat, and your face feels hot to the touch. Your fingers curl into the skirt of your dress. Forgiveness . You have no right to forgiveness. You allow yourself just enough happiness, and that’s enough. 

“—it was only three months.” His gaze turns a touch concerned. “Are you alright?”

Panic bubbles in your chest as you manage shallow breaths, staring at him in increasing discomfort as your vision begins to go spotty.

Forgiveness? Your father died before he could forgive you. He died resenting your birth. He wished you had died instead of your mother. The forgiveness to absolve yourself isn't yours.

“There you are.”

You’d recognize the sharp cadence of Satoru’s voice anywhere. You focus on it. He’s unhappy. You wonder if he got into another fight with Suguru. You turn to where he stands, arms crossed, jaw set into a hard line. In the moonlight he glows otherworldly, a piece of divinity on earth. If only his expression matched.

His eyes are piercingly alight as he approaches. “Shoko’s looking for you.”

“Oh.” You perk up. “She is?” In your momentary elation at the prospect of seeing Shoko again, the anxiety dissipates enough for you to collect yourself. You almost forget to make introductions, but Hideo beats you to it, standing up. 

“Gojo-sama,” he says, inclining his head. “It’s an—”

“Like I care,” is Satoru’s clipped response. A dismissive glance in Hideo’s general direction, before his gaze is focused on you again. You stare at him, taken aback at his rudeness.

He pulls you up, not roughly, and examines you with a keen eye. He takes in the coat on your shoulders, and irritation shrouds his face once more. He swipes it off your shoulders and throws it back on the fountain. Then he takes off his haori and sweeps it over your shoulders. Without another word, he takes you by the wrist and away.

You give Hideo one last glance over your shoulder. He waves, a good natured smile on his face.

You eye Satoru’s back, trying to tug your hand back to your side to no avail. His fingers are locked around your wrist. Despite his annoyance, you’re happy to see him. There’s so much you want to tell him, about all the small details about your shameful past you tried to hide, about the small things you did remember about your time at the Kamo compound, even about Hideo—

You are backed into a wall, Satoru looming above you, eyes flashing. “Who the hell was that?”

You blink at him, looking from Satoru’s left arm caging you into the wall, to the other with slight disbelief.  “Shirokami…Hideo…” We lived together when we were younger. Back when I had nobody. Back when I was a ghost. He taught me how to catch fireflies. I don’t remember much about those days, but I think he made me happy.

You hold your tongue.

You hope you aren’t being presumptuous. “He’s a friend—”

Satoru’s fingers dig into your chin as he lifts your face up. You look into his eyes, brighter than the moon hanging in the sky, and you think there’s something disconcerting in the way he looks at you. Like you could ask him to defy the laws of the world. For you, he do it. And if you asked him to bring down a star, he’d lay it on your palm.

The world stills, just as it usually does when you meet his gaze. Your heart skips a beat in your chest as you stare at him, daring you to pull away, to drop your gaze back to your feet.

You feel his hand curl around your nape, pulling you to him with a squeeze that feels branding. He takes your lips with a bruising kiss, pressing you back into a garden shed. A startled noise leaves your open lips, and Satoru takes advantage, teeth sinking into your bottom lip with a distinct viciousness. You feel his tongue dragging against your own, hungry. Your eyes widen, never leaving his lidded stare that could be a glare. His hands come up to cup your face, angling you to his whims, effectively keeping you still against the onslaught of his lips as he steals your breath away.

He’s all you can see and feel. The heat of him, his palpable desire, so feverish it eats you alive. You push at his chest, feeling the lack of oxygen muddle your brain but he only holds you tighter. When he finally pulls away, a string of saliva briefly connects your lips, broken when Satoru’s tongue runs over his lips. Your hands are fisted into the fabric of his nagagi so tightly that you’ve pulled it open, exposing more of his chest than necessary. You let go, hands falling limp to your side.

His eyes lower back to your lips, and you startle. You’d take a step back if you could, but instead you push back into the wall. Somewhere in between, Satoru had lifted you up, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist, dress hiked up. Satoru’s hand is resting on your bare thigh with a grip that has no intention of letting you move, and a shiver rips through your body as you inhale gulps of air. His leg rests between your thighs, reminding you of the uncomfortable wetness staining your panties.

He leans forward and you unknowingly tense, but instead of your lips you feel a sting on your neck. Teeth. You wince, but Satoru holds you in place, fingers curling into you like a warning. You feel his tongue tracing the bruise, before he straightens with a finality. You might be shaking but you’re unsure if it’s from the cold or…

You stare at him, stunned, while he meets your gaze unrepentantly.

“I…” your voice trembles as the awful reality slowly sets in. “Could you…” you struggle with the words. “...Please put me down.”

For one terrifying second, you see the beginnings of the stubborn set of his eyebrows, as if he might refuse.

Then, wordlessly, wearing a frown, he lifts you down.

You don’t think. You bend down on unsteady legs to pick up his fine haori that had fallen to the ground, and neatly fold it. You hand it to him. He takes it. 

“Good night,” you intone.

You stiffly walk back into the hotel lobby, where everyone has gathered, ready to leave for the night or take taxis to the invite exclusive after party. You think you might walk to the train station. Nothing feels real.

You should text Shoko. Tell her that you didn’t feel good and that you took a taxi home. Yes, you’ll do that.

You accidentally meet Suguru’s searching gaze from across the room. You register surprise across his face. Then he slowly makes his way through the crowd. There's something wet on your lips, and when you raise your hand there's a smear of blood on your fingers. You take a step back, stomach twisting into knots. You’ll walk.

You’ll walk.

You turn around, starting through the hotel lobby where cabs have begun to line the entrance and the streets outside. You'll feel bad later. You walk through it all. Once you get far away enough, you manage to flag an empty taxi down.

You don’t remember the car ride home. You enter your apartment and make it to your bed just as your legs buckle. You fall asleep in daze, wondering if the night was all just a bad dream.

[lovesanmotion]

" hi can i request yandere prince yeosang and a mute maid reader please ! "

Promise - Kang Yeosang

💌 This is: Requested

taglist: @yunhobabygurl @atiny-chocolate-chip @minhyukmyluv @yunhoandonly

It started out when you were very young.

So young and so beautiful but already on your feet, putting your back on the labor work to help your parents earn a living. Something to put food on the table, clothes on your backs and keep the roof on top of your heads. Life was tough, but you were tougher.

Every morning you would get up very early and leave immediately so you could head over to the inn that you were working at to prepare food for the guests. When the afternoon rolls, you would leave the inn and head over to Mrs Im's house and help sew clothings that were given by her customers. Mrs Im is anold woman who enjoyed your company, unlike the other older girls, she was very kind to you and often gifted you hairpins, clips and books. Meanwhile, the older girls often slacked and daydreamed about what would their life be like if they were born into royalty.

The king and the queen were so loved by the people, and when the news broke out that the queen gave birth to a boy, everyone celebrated the birth of a new succeeding heir for a week. Just like his name, he is their everything.

Your mother worked as a seamstress while your father a fisherman. Life may not be cakes and roses for you, but you made it meet both ends. However, an unfortunate event occured one night. Hiding underneath the bed, you witnessed through the gaps of the bed how your mother and father were stabbed brutally to their death before setting the house on fire. To stunned and scared to death to move, you wished the flames would engulf you quickly. So young and so beautiful, death seemed like the only option for you. But the townspeople busted through the doors and were able to rescue you in time.

"Poor girl, having to witness her parents die"

"She's so young"

"Who could have done such action to her parents"

The aftermath of that night left you homeless, hungry, cold and mute. Nitpicking scraps of food through garbage bins, drinking polluted water and your fingers trembling in the cold. In one night, you lost everything. And it took every bit of fibre in your body to not turn to stealing.

When Mrs Im was informed of your situation, she quickly took you in to her home and nursed you back to your health. When she tried to talk to you, you would needed a pen and a paper to write down your thoughts. Sometimes when you aren't looking, Mrs Im would feel her heart crack a little. For someone so young and so beautiful to face such a tragedy and experience a disability.

One day at Mrs Im's sewing shop, a woman dressed in fine silk, feathers and pearls came through the doors of the shop.

"May I request for the dresses?" Said the woman to Mrs Im

"Certainly, madam" Mrs Im said, and with that, she walked through the back to retrieve whatever was being requested.

You didn't noticed the eyes of this woman on you, slowly she walked behind you and watched out the window as well. "Why such a long face on a beautiful day?"

You jumped a little at her velvet voice, blinking before staring at her. The woman lets out a soft chuckle before straightening her back. "What is your name?"

Slowly you reached over for the piece of paper that had your name written on it. Y/N

"Sorry for taking so long, madam. Here it is what you've requested for." Mrs Im says, placing the boxes on top of the table with a ribbons neatly tied on top. The woman took out her purse, and, since she felt her mood somewhat lifted after meeting y/n, she decided to pay more than what was needed.

"Mrs Im, if you do not mind me asking" The woman says, turning to glance at you. "Who is she?"

Mrs Im instantly brought a smile on her face. "She's Y/N. Her parents were murdered the other week. I took her with me and helps around here. In fact, she sewed the dresses you've requested, madam!"

Marvelled at how the girl knew how to read and write, has a talent for sewing and had an angelic face, she made up her mind.

"Mrs Im, I would like Y/N to bring with me to the palace"

That day, the woman who came into the the shop introduced herself as Ms Oh, a leading royal palace lady who is loyal to the queen. That very same day, she took you under her wing and brought you inside the palace as a palace lady servant.

Did your life change? Certainly. The other palace servants treated you like a sister and made you feel welcome and comfortable even though the servants house was always cold and had little room for all seven of them. But it was better than almost dying and living in the streets. But the memory of your parents' lifeless body, blood spattering and the flames were not enough to restore your speech back.

Did the other palace servant girls made fun of your disability? Absolutely not! In fact, they were very curious as to how your voice would sound like. Some say, you have a loud voice, but others would say you would have a soft one considering that your visuals were soft and delicate.

You could only smile and blush at their thoughts. Sometimes you wish you could join in their conversation without having to write everything down from your head to paper. And one day, the other servant girls took your work for you, giving you the rest of the whole day off. You decided to spend your time in the gardens, loving the cold breeze on your skin and the wonderful scent and sight of flowers.

"Hello!"

You jumped at the voice that spoke behind you. Turning around, the face of the dearly loved prince greeted closely to yours.

"I'm Yeosang! I don't think I've seen you before" He says, smiling softly as he rubs the back of his nape. Shyly, you shook your head.

"What's your name?" Yeosang asks, quickly slipping your hands inside your pocket, you handed him a piece of paper. Yeosang thought you were pulling a joke on him but once he read your name off the paper, he stopped.

"You're that girl I hear everyone's talking about" He says, immediately you took out a pen and paper and started writing down.

' I hope you've been hearing good things about me '

Chuckling, Yeosang nodded his head. "No trouble there." He says. It was enough to bring a smile on your face, however, you reminded of one court rule that arose in the back of your head.

' Servants and royals are not allowed to talk to each other '

Yeosang blinked and turned his head left and right. "No one's here but us. It should be fine." He assures you. "Let me take you on a stroll to my mother's garden" He lets out a hand for you to take. Slowly, your looped your arm around his got to know more about the prince. How he's been alone most of his childhood, hated social parties and luncheons and dreaded the idea of having to be sent off to look for a potential bride.

As the sun slowly sets, Yeosang walked you back to the kitchens, managing to pry away from the eyes of the guards and other servants.

"I'll see you tomorrow, y/n" Yeosang took your hand and placed a kiss at the back of your hand before running off.

It was the first time a boy made your heart race.

That night, Yeosang couldn't stop thinking about you. Finally having someone to listen to him and pour his heart out, he felt free. Free from the shackles of royalty and having to live like a proper individual. If he didn't act accordingly, his mother, father and his teachers would have his head.

During classes, he couldn't get his mind off you. He wished you were sitting beside him, maybe then he would have the motivation to actually learn something. When eating, he would sometimes catch himself trying to look for you in the dining hall. And whenever he caught you in the same room as him, he would always brush his hand on yours. A small act that already sends his heart into frenzy.

"Did you understand what I just said?"

Yeosang snapped and turned his head to face the princess besides him. "What?"

The princess, clearly annoyed, huffed. "Were you even listening?"

Yeosang didn't even know who she was and where she came from. All he knew was that he was busy staring at Y/N who looked extra lovely with her tied up into a bun.

"I have to go." He says, slipping away from her and ignoring her calling out to him. Racing to the other side of the hall room to catch Y/N. And when he caught her, he held her hand and together, they ran out and went into the garden.

' You're not supposed to be here with me '

"Oh please, you're a much better company than whoever was I with earlier." Yeosang scoffs, sitting close to you as you two admired the full moon.

' Won't someone see us here? What if they start looking for you? '

"They could stop breathing down on my neck for all I care." Yeosang rolls his eyes. "Honestly, they should give me break! I hate how they all look over me like I'm some fragile item. They don't what I could be capable of." He spoke, meaning every word he said.

Yeosang could feel the anger rising in him, but as he turns to look at you, your eyes turned into upside crescent shapes. You were chuckling without a sound.

With your eyes closed, Yeosang leaned in to place a peck on your lips. But someone caught him in the act of doing so.

"I heard from the princess last night how she was furious of prince Yeosang" The noblewoman spoke. Her, the queen and Yeosang dined together at a gazebo, enjoying scones, cupcakes, cookies and earl grey tea.

"What has happened?" His mother, the queen, spoke. Her eyebrows furrowing together.

"I was informed last night how the princess was disappointed of his behavior for leaving her alone last night. She wanted to get to know him but found him rude for leaving her!"

Yeosang rolled his eyes and continued to chew on the half eaten scone in his hand.

"Furthermore, I followed him outside and caught him in a heated liplock with a maid! A maid!" The noblewoman exaggeratted.

Yeosang intentionally spat his tea out and into the dress of the noblewoman in front of him. His mother lets out a gasp before calling the servants to hand more napkins.

"I'm dreadfully sorry for my son's actions. He's never like this!" She apologized profusely.

"Not at all! The servant girl must have corrupted his mind!"

That was the final straw for Yeosang, he kicked the table towards the noblewoman and had the desserts falling on her before walking away.

"Yeosang!" He heard his mother shout, but he couldn't care anymore.

That night, Yeosang managed to avoid everyone as he headed down to the kitchen. He didn't know his way around the place as it was his first time so his eyes wandered around, trying to figure out where could those knives be. As he pulled open every cabinet, the sight of the glinting silverware glinted in his eyes before taking it in his hand and racing back up to the guest room.

"Ms Jung! I'm sincerely sorry for my actions earlier and I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me." Yeosang says, politely bowing his head at her.

"It's alright, dear boy! I am pleased to know that the servant girl hasn't corrupted you or anything!"

It pissed him off whenever people degraded you just because you are a servant.

"The things I do for love" Yeosang mumbles before plunging the knife into the noblewoman's back.

"You shouldn't have talked down on her like that. Apparently, I'm in love with that maid and I'd kill anyone who throws shit at her. And that's a promise."

Placing a hand over her mouth to muffle her screams, Yeosang continued to action of stabbing her from the back until she was no longer fighting for her life.

[r0z0]

0. First day here?

Autor's note:

I just want to say that english is not my native language. This book can have small grammar mistakes, so please don't roast me much.

I woke up at the 6 a.m., my room was really small and I was sharing it with 3 other dancers. We all were going to Italy.

I was so nervous I couldn't sleep. I tried to fall asleep again. I must be fully rested and full of energy for this afternoon.

I started looking for some distractions. I looked at the window, but I didn't saw nothing special. Only some trees and empty fields. I sat on my bed.

"Maybe I could read something?" I asked myself. I turned my small desk lamp on and started to flip pages of my favorite novel. I grabed small green scrap of paper that I put between pages where I ended.

"No way that he drank that! Ew! Who would drink piss?!" I jumped on my bed causing one of my roommates to wake up.

"Great heavens! Can you be quiet, Aneta?! Can't you you see we are trying to sleep?!" She threw her pillow at me.

"Oi oi! What's going on?" Some weird ass dude opened our door. He had light purple hair and was dressed in some weird clothes that were showing his ribs on one side. He licked his lips when he saw foot that was not under green covers.

"Who are you?! And what the fuck?" I stood up from my bed and got closer to window.

"Let me introduce myself. Im Melone. And you look like a good material for a mother... Are you single?" He asked as he was getting closer to me and grabbed my hand.

"I can easily upgrade you to private class... With me of course~" He said and laid a kiss on the palm of my hand. I tried to slap him with my left hand but he dodged it.

"It's a good offert, but I have to refuse, sir. I already have plans." I slided to the left. Maybe I could get him from the back, but he seems too smart for that. He turned in my direction.

"Are you sure? Can't you cancel that?" He asked and grabbed my hand tight.

"I'm really sorry, but I can you something in return, of you want of course." Maybe of I give him a ticket he will leave me alone.

"And that would be?~" He looked when I was searching in my purse for a small piece of paper. It was white with a green stripe. I pulled my hand to his direction nervously holding the ticket. The girl from bunk on top of mine looked shooked at the ticket.

"You really going to give him that?!" She screamed at me.

He grabbed the ticket from me. Melone looked confused at the stiff piece of paper.

"What is this? What can I use it for?" Purple guy looked at me confused, not knowing of he should be thankfull or angry.

"It's a VIP ticket for my ballet show. You can go to the backstage with it. I hope it's good enough for you."

"Di molto!" He said and looked at me with a creepy smile on his face. He quickly run out of our room.

"It's your first day in Italy?" I looked at girl with blond hair. She probably heard the whole situation.

"Yes, and I'm already in trouble..." I sat on my bed again.

"He was a member of mafia. They always wear weird clothes. You are lucky that he wasn't agrresive. I'm suprised you actually handled the situation."

"He was from mafia?!" I shouted and quickly stood up. Sometimes I'm super dumb. Just in this moment. I forgot that I had a bunk bed above my head. So ofcourse I hit my head.

"Are you still in one piece?" She asked me while bursting out loud laugh.

Meanwhile in the private class Melone was telling his friends about a really smart girl that he saw here.

[sgt-nerd-plays]

Grand Waaagh!

Long time, no battle reports. Sadly, there’s been a bit of a global pandemic going around and being a responsible member of the community, I’ve been avoiding big gatherings that might spread the plague. However, your old sarge has been vaccinated, so with the help of likewise protected people, I was able to get a game in. This time, I was able to bring my ork army. Not just orks, but a whole stompa!

The Stompmost

Game Setup:

The idea was that it was going to be a more casual game where we would bring a bunch of models, play on on oversized board, and just kinda slam minis together with a bit of objective holding as a treat.

I was, of course, playing orks, and bringing 2000 points, plus the stompa. My partner was playing Alpha Legion, and bringing 1000 points. On the other side, we had one person bringing 2000 points of Crimson Fists (Hi Ryolnir!) and another person bringing 1000 points of Grey Knights (Hi, Zuul!) Thanks to Ryolnir for providing several of the pictures used in this batrep.

I brought Ghaz, a warboss on warbike, a weirdboy, five meganobz trukkboyz, a trukk (for carting around said trukkboyz), two mobs of boyz (11 and 14 models in each), a dakka jet, five warbikers, and one of each of the non-HQ buggies, plus an extra scrapjet. Except I’m an idiot and forgot one scrapjet and the dragsta, so I had to borrow a scrapjet from the game club’s cabinet, and a wartrike which stood in for the dragsta. I played as Evil Sunz, though several of the units (the bikeboss and the trukk) were Death Skulls and the dakkajet was painted up as Bad Moonz. I know, I’m terrible, but the rest of my army was wysiwyg.

My Narrative:

Warboss Scragkill Gudluk revved his warbike impatiently. Somewhere there was a scrap, and he was anxious to get to it. However, he’d been separated from his mob. And if that wasn’t bad enough, da Boss had shown up, along with a bunch of red-painted gits.

Ghazghkul Mag Uruk Thraka, prophet of da Waaagh, was giving orders. “Awright, we needs t’get into dis fight quick, so I want you an’ yer other evil sunz t’haul yer guts like they was on fire, you got it?”

“Er, beggin’ yer pardon, but I ain’t no Sunz. I’m Death Skulls!” Scragkill slapped the side of his blue bike proudly.

Ghazghkull responded by smacking him on the side of the head so hard he fell off of the bike and skidded several yards.

When Scrag managed to hobble up and lean unsteadily against the side of the bike, Ghaz asked “What was dat?”

“Er, da red ones go fasta?” Scrag said uncertainly.

“Dat’s what I likes t’hear. Now, we’ll send in da big lad first.” Ghaz craned his neck to look up at the stompa, with its grot rigger crew scrabbling atop getting it ready for waaagh. “I gots a good feelin’ about dis.”

Da Waaagh approaches!

Our deployment zone was in one quarter of the table, minus a nine inch radius from the center. I pushed the stompa up as far as I could. Its only real hope was to get to the astraeus before it lost too many wounds. Most of the Alpha Legion units were in Deep Strike, ready to move in at a moment’s notice.

The Emperor Protects! As does this wall! [Credit: Ryolnir]

The knights player put his entire army into deep strike. The fists player, on the other hand was deployed a bit more defensively than my orks. If only I'd been so smart. He ended up going first, and he immediately popped the stompa. Its work done, the astraeus returned with full honors to its cabinet, where it would do me no further harm, since it was obviously going to be a really short game if it had stayed on the table.

However, this caused some follow-on effects for both of us. Because he'd hidden his stuff, he didn't have angle with a lot of his stuff turn one. On the other hand, I couldn't get anything into charge range that turn, and most of my shooting couldn't target his stuff either. I managed to take out an assault intercessor squad, but that was pretty much it. My partner's maulerfiend was stuck in the back of a bad traffic jam with my warbikers. This meant turn one was spent mostly untangling this while his units got into firing position.

He did have a good firing line on one of my units: The trukk I'd hidden to the side of the stompa, sadly only mostly out of line of sight. It was popped, and I lost one of my trukkboy meganobz on the disembark.

Da Real Treasure Was the Dakka We Found Along Da Way. [Credit: Ryolnir]

I was able to get a couple of buggies into line of sight with his melee infantry, however, and I was able to take out one unit of assault intercessors with my snazzwagon and boostablasta. Meanwhile, my two deffdreads were trundling forward to get their claws on something tasty. At the far side of the board you can see my meganobz trying to get into cover until they could make their way to a scrap.

Bullets! My only weakness!  [Credit: Ryolnir]

The grey knights teleported in, taking the fight to me at the midpoint on the board. Meanwhile, the crimson fists player moved his units forward out of hiding and began taking things down. The buggies folded quickly under some shooting from his speeder and aggressors.

On the other side of the board, the meganobz wilted under the knights' shooting and smites. Ghaz lost four wounds to the psychic onslaught.

Yo yo yo! It’s Grandmaster Dreadknight, and I’m here to rap about how the Emperor saves, novitiates!

However, now it was time for waaaagh! A bit of shooting took out a few of the vanvets, and then the deff dreads ran up and gave the last three a nice hug, turning them into crimson smears.

Where did da humies go, George?

Ghaz, the bikeboss, and the bikers all charged in at the dreadknights. The weirdboy cast fists of gork on the bikeboss, making him right killy.

Hit ‘im in da face! Den hit ‘im in da face harder!

It turns out that seven killa klaw attacks at S14, with extra attacks for each of the originals that doesn't do damage, is a lot. The grandmaster was a deadknight instead of a dreadknight. That robbed the bikers of any attacks, since he was their charge target. But fortunately, Ghaz got full attacks on the other dreadnight. ...Of which two went through, and were both saved against. Some days you get the waaagh, some days the waaagh gets you.

On their turn, the grey knights smote the crap out of the bikeboss and the warbikers, getting them mostly dead and finishing them off in the shooting and fight phases. Ghaz ended up hanging on with a single wound.

Last Ghazp

The Crimson Fist player wasn't idle during this time. He took out the dakkajet with some long distance shooting, then went ahead and removed the two deff dreads, one scrapjet, my squigbuggy, and several boyz. That left me with a grand total of one scrapjet, twenty-odd boyz in two squads, my weirdboy, and Ghaz holding on by a single wound when my third turn came up.

Orks don’t panic. The sweating and twitching is just anticipation of a good waaagh, is all. No one is fleeing, we’re just looking for a better scrap, is all.  [Credit: Ryolnir]

But that was when my allies, the alpha legion, showed up! So secretly, in fact, that no photographic evidence for their arrival can be found. Yeah, none of my pictures from that part of the game came out well. Ultimately, his obliterators and terminators managed to take out the crimson first redemptor. My weirdboy managed to kill the grey knights chaplain, but the surviving justicar of his strike squad was able to deal a fatal wound to Ghaz, finally toppling the Prophet of the Waaagh.

We basically called it there. The grey knights player had to go, so the crimson fist player did his last turn of shooting to see if we'd have even stood a chance. The surviving scrapjet took a surprisingly long time to die, given it started the round with only five wounds left. But when it died, it exploded, and thanks to the careen stratagem, it was able to leave its mark.

Enjoy your mortal wounds, suckers!

Ultimately, it's a little hard for me to analyze the battle too fully. The abortive superheavy duel skewed deployment pretty heavily. It probably saved me a bit of shooting in the first round, but it also meant that I wasn't able to any shooting off my first turn either. Going second definitely hurt me, since it meant the trukkboyz meganobz weren't able to get their full value (though they absorbed a lot of firepower before they died, which probably saved some other units). The maulerfiend never got past the traffic jam until turn three, and the other units he had were too far back to be able to shoot or get into melee.

That left me pretty much high and dry turn two, looking down the barrel at 3000 points without any backup. By the time he popped in on our turn three, I was down to about 650 points, 300 of which belonged to one-wound Ghaz. Even if he’d popped off, it’s unlikely we would have been able to claw our way back out of that deficit. If we’d gone first, waiting until turn three wouldn’t have hurt quite as bad, but as it was, that was two full rounds where I was effectively 1000 points behind the enemy.

In the future, I’ll probably ask that my partners not go quite that crazy on deep strike shenanigans, or at least come in a bit sooner.

All that being said, I had a ton of fun, and it was great finally getting my boyz on the table. I did learn a lot about pitfalls in setting up, how variable some of my units can be, and how to move things fast. I also learned some organization issues, and I'll know how to handle them better. In the future, rather than showing with a stack of double-sided buttscribe sheets, I'll have them singlesided in a binder, so I can flip through them quickly and know where things are.

On the ruined battlefield, the shattered armor of the once-mighty stompa were scattered and blasted. The remains of orks and traitor marines decorated the landscape. The adeptus astartes were the only ones who survived to recover their dead.

And yet, under the hot sun, some of the debris stirred. A massive ceramite plate was thrown aside, and the massive power weapon known as Gork’s Klaw emerged from the wreckage.

[thenuclearweaselhaslanded]

Grand Waaaagh!

Long time, no battle reports. Sadly, there’s been a bit of a global pandemic going around and being a responsible member of the community, I’ve been avoiding big gatherings that might spread the plague. However, your old sarge has been vaccinated, so with the help of likewise protected people, I was able to get a game in. This time, I was able to bring my ork army. Not just orks, but a whole stompa!

The Stompmost

Game Setup:

The idea was that it was going to be a more casual game where we would bring a bunch of models, play on on oversized board, and just kinda slam minis together with a bit of objective holding as a treat.

I was, of course, playing orks, and bringing 2000 points, plus the stompa. My partner was playing Alpha Legion, and bringing 1000 points. On the other side, we had one person bringing 2000 points of Crimson Fists (Hi Ryolnir!) and another person bringing 1000 points of Grey Knights (Hi, Zuul!) Thanks to Ryolnir for providing several of the pictures used in this batrep.

I brought Ghaz, a warboss on warbike, a weirdboy, five meganobz trukkboyz, a trukk (for carting around said trukkboyz), two mobs of boyz (11 and 14 models in each), a dakka jet, five warbikers, and one of each of the non-HQ buggies, plus an extra scrapjet. Except I’m an idiot and forgot one scrapjet and the dragsta, so I had to borrow a scrapjet from the game club’s cabinet, and a wartrike which stood in for the dragsta. I played as Evil Sunz, though several of the units (the bikeboss and the trukk) were Death Skulls and the dakkajet was painted up as Bad Moonz. I know, I’m terrible, but the rest of my army was wysiwyg.

My Narrative:

Warboss Scragkill Gudluk revved his warbike impatiently. Somewhere there was a scrap, and he was anxious to get to it. However, he’d been separated from his mob. And if that wasn’t bad enough, da Boss had shown up, along with a bunch of red-painted gits.

Ghazghkul Mag Uruk Thraka, prophet of da Waaagh, was giving orders. “Awright, we needs t’get into dis fight quick, so I want you an’ yer other evil sunz t’haul yer guts like they was on fire, you got it?”

“Er, beggin’ yer pardon, but I ain’t no Sunz. I’m Death Skulls!” Scragkill slapped the side of his blue bike proudly.

Ghazghkull responded by smacking him on the side of the head so hard he fell off of the bike and skidded several yards.

When Scrag managed to hobble up and lean unsteadily against the side of the bike, Ghaz asked “What was dat?”

“Er, da red ones go fasta?” Scrag said uncertainly.

“Dat’s what I likes t’hear. Now, we’ll send in da big lad first.” Ghaz craned his neck to look up at the stompa, with its grot rigger crew scrabbling atop getting it ready for waaagh. “I gots a good feelin’ about dis.” 

Da Waaagh approaches!

Our deployment zone was in one quarter of the table, minus a nine inch radius from the center. I pushed the stompa up as far as I could. Its only real hope was to get to the astraeus before it lost too many wounds. Most of the Alpha Legion units were in Deep Strike, ready to move in at a moment’s notice.

The Emperor Protects! As does this wall! [Credit: Ryolnir]

The knights player put his entire army into deep strike. The fists player, on the other hand was deployed a bit more defensively than my orks. If only I'd been so smart. He ended up going first, and he immediately popped the stompa. Its work done, the astraeus returned with full honors to its cabinet, where it would do me no further harm, since it was obviously going to be a really short game if it had stayed on the table.

However, this caused some follow-on effects for both of us. Because he'd hidden his stuff, he didn't have angle with a lot of his stuff turn one. On the other hand, I couldn't get anything into charge range that turn, and most of my shooting couldn't target his stuff either. I managed to take out an assault intercessor squad, but that was pretty much it. My partner's maulerfiend was stuck in the back of a bad traffic jam with my warbikers. This meant turn one was spent mostly untangling this while his units got into firing position. 

 He did have a good firing line on one of my units: The trukk I'd hidden to the side of the stompa, sadly only mostly out of line of sight. It was popped, and I lost one of my trukkboy meganobz on the disembark.

Da Real Treasure Was the Dakka We Found Along Da Way. [Credit: Ryolnir]

I was able to get a couple of buggies into line of sight with his melee infantry, however, and I was able to take out one unit of assault intercessors with my snazzwagon and boostablasta. Meanwhile, my two deffdreads were trundling forward to get their claws on something tasty. At the far side of the board you can see my meganobz trying to get into cover until they could make their way to a scrap.

Bullets! My only weakness!  [Credit: Ryolnir]

The grey knights teleported in, taking the fight to me at the midpoint on the board. Meanwhile, the crimson fists player moved his units forward out of hiding and began taking things down. The buggies folded quickly under some shooting from his speeder and aggressors.

On the other side of the board, the meganobz wilted under the knights' shooting and smites. Ghaz lost four wounds to the psychic onslaught.

Yo yo yo! It’s Grandmaster Dreadknight, and I’m here to rap about how the Emperor saves, novitiates!

However, now it was time for waaaagh! A bit of shooting took out a few of the vanvets, and then the deff dreads ran up and gave the last three a nice hug, turning them into crimson smears.

Where did da humies go, George?

Ghaz, the bikeboss, and the bikers all charged in at the dreadknights. The weirdboy cast fists of gork on the bikeboss, making him right killy.

Hit ‘im in da face! Den hit ‘im in da face harder!

It turns out that seven killa klaw attacks at S14, with extra attacks for each of the originals that doesn't do damage, is a lot. The grandmaster was a deadknight instead of a dreadknight. That robbed the bikers of any attacks, since he was their charge target. But fortunately, Ghaz got full attacks on the other dreadnight. ...Of which two went through, and were both saved against. Some days you get the waaagh, some days the waaagh gets you.

On their turn, the grey knights smote the crap out of the bikeboss and the warbikers, getting them mostly dead and finishing them off in the shooting and fight phases. Ghaz ended up hanging on with a single wound.

Last Ghazp

The Crimson Fist player wasn't idle during this time. He took out the dakkajet with some long distance shooting, then went ahead and removed the two deff dreads, one scrapjet, my squigbuggy, and several boyz. That left me with a grand total of one scrapjet, twenty-odd boyz in two squads, my weirdboy, and Ghaz holding on by a single wound when my third turn came up.

Orks don’t panic. The sweating and twitching is just anticipation of a good waaagh, is all. No one is fleeing, we’re just looking for a better scrap, is all.  [Credit: Ryolnir]

But that was when my allies, the alpha legion, showed up! So secretly, in fact, that no photographic evidence for their arrival can be found. Yeah, none of my pictures from that part of the game came out well. Ultimately, his obliterators and terminators managed to take out the crimson first redemptor. My weirdboy managed to kill the grey knights chaplain, but the surviving justicar of his strike squad was able to deal a fatal wound to Ghaz, finally toppling the Prophet of the Waaagh.

We basically called it there. The grey knights player had to go, so the crimson fist player did his last turn of shooting to see if we'd have even stood a chance. The surviving scrapjet took a surprisingly long time to die, given it started the round with only five wounds left. But when it died, it exploded, and thanks to the careen stratagem, it was able to leave its mark.

Enjoy your mortal wounds, suckers!

Ultimately, it's a little hard for me to analyze the battle too fully. The abortive superheavy duel skewed deployment pretty heavily. It probably saved me a bit of shooting in the first round, but it also meant that I wasn't able to any shooting off my first turn either. Going second definitely hurt me, since it meant the trukkboyz meganobz weren't able to get their full value (though they absorbed a lot of firepower before they died, which probably saved some other units). The maulerfiend never got past the traffic jam until turn three, and the other units he had were too far back to be able to shoot or get into melee. 

That left me pretty much high and dry turn two, looking down the barrel at 3000 points without any backup. By the time he popped in on our turn three, I was down to about 650 points, 300 of which belonged to one-wound Ghaz. Even if he’d popped off, it’s unlikely we would have been able to claw our way back out of that deficit. If we’d gone first, waiting until turn three wouldn’t have hurt quite as bad, but as it was, that was two full rounds where I was effectively 1000 points behind the enemy.

In the future, I’ll probably ask that my partners not go quite that crazy on deep strike shenanigans, or at least come in a bit sooner. 

All that being said, I had a ton of fun, and it was great finally getting my boyz on the table. I did learn a lot about pitfalls in setting up, how variable some of my units can be, and how to move things fast. I also learned some organization issues, and I'll know how to handle them better. In the future, rather than showing with a stack of double-sided buttscribe sheets, I'll have them singlesided in a binder, so I can flip through them quickly and know where things are.

On the ruined battlefield, the shattered armor of the once-mighty stompa were scattered and blasted. The remains of orks and traitor marines decorated the landscape. The adeptus astartes were the only ones who survived to recover their dead.

And yet, under the hot sun, some of the debris stirred. A massive ceramite plate was thrown aside, and the massive power weapon known as Gork’s Klaw emerged from the wreckage.