#off the cuff stuff

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

listen i haven't been in the bnha fandom since i was like 16 but man what was the fucking point of having deku hone his superpowers for like 400 chapters, take it away like 10 chapters before the end, and have him get New Superpowers in like the last 3 pages? it's not even that deku losing his superpowers wouldn't have worked if you wrote it right but the story just. didn't write it right.

like in the whole first half of the manga deku was being set up as this guy who was super good at analyzing how quirks work and different strategies ppl could do to get the most kick out of their superpowers. he used that not only to improve his own skills with one for all, but he helped his classmates too! if he'd lost his powers, he could have been set up perfectly to be the guy in the chair. bakugo goes on a mission and says into his headpiece "hey deku tell me about these villains superpowers and what i should blow up to defeat them" and then deku tells him what to blow up!

but i guess in the second half they stop focusing on that part of deku at all. we know he continues to use his skills in analysis to improve his several new powers, but we don't rly see it. we just know he's been working on it offscreen from offhand comments and a few panels every 20 chapters. same with the other characters we see that they've improved but we don't get to see them working on their skills anymore so any improvement feels unearned.

and obv this is not the only problem i have with the manga. there's a lot i can say about how horikoshi introduced so many characters that the story couldn't focus on any particular theme or arc due to cast bloat. or how most of his "we live in a society" commentary fell flat bc he is fundamentally incapable to imagining a functional society that is not a police state. and ofc he hates women. like so much. like holy shit most of the women in this manga were done dirty.

but like even if you boil all of bnha down to the story of this one underdog kid who gets to fulfill his dream of being a superhero, his arc was so unfulfilling. they gave him a skill that he could have used to distinguish himself from other superheroes. but halfway through the manga they stopped talking about it and instead just focused on how he's super cool bc he has the extra special superpowers that makes him punch good. and then they walked back on it and tried to hamfist in a lesson about how "uwu deku doesn't need superpowers he can still be my hero. in academia." and then they walked back on THAT and is like "hey deku stop being a normie we're gonna get you superpowers again bc thats the only way your abilities have value" like come on!

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[crow-caller]

Im not just saying this bc I'm a youtube person who does it.

MAN I wish it was more common for youtuber video essayist to upload their videos as text essays.

I understand it might be born from some idea of limiting views/profits if people just read your vids on a blog rather than watch. But there's so many essays I don't want to watch but would read.

There's a lot of book reviewers too who only operate on YT and not a blog. I get it. But I often can't watch a 2 hour vid but can read 15k words, y'know?

[shimmerluna]

To be honest, a big part of why I dislike the fact that YR doesn’t explicitly address ableism is because I think this fandom in particular would benefit a lot from the sort of discussions a show that takes so much care with these topics could produce.

With the way people talk about Sara’s auDHD, Micke’s addiction, Kristina’s breakdown, and even August’s ED/addiction, it’s clear a lot of you view mental illnesses/disabilities as a choice someone makes or a punishment they can deserve/earn. There’s a difference between one’s disability being used as an excuse and it being a valid reason/explanation for actions the person still has to take responsibility for that few of you seem to recognize or care about, and treating these characters’ disabilities and mental illnesses like something they earned/deserved bc of something they did implies very harmful beliefs about real disabled people. 

On top of those implications, the only disabled/mentally ill character people treat with nuance and care is Wille, the main character who gets all the excuses/explanations. To a disabled person (i.e. me), it appears that some of you refuse to care about/empathize with disabled people on your own. Instead, you view us as morally bad and alien at the first sign of symptoms, and you only change your mind when an explanation you deem satisfactory makes us palatable or relatable to you. Since it's currently Disability Awareness/Pride Month, it's a good time for some of you to learn how to see both us as people and our disability without lengthy justification or respectability politics.

[suchafaunystory]

a faun gets grabbed in the club, someone groping her body. someone a full head or so taller than the cute, squishy faun. she tries to resist for a moment before a pink cloud is puffed into her face, and everything changes. heat flows through her body, overwhelming her senses, and all her reservations are drowned out by a flood of desire. she sinks into the arms of the stranger, who keeps her from falling, easily supporting her weight with one arm, the other snaking down her body. squeezing her cute tits, pinching a nipple through her too-thin shirt, eliciting a little whine, rubbing her belly thinking about how big they're going to make it, how stuffed she'll be, and lower, and lower until resting between her legs, pressing on her cute, quickly hardening cock.

the faun is barely aware of anything but the feeling of the hand along her skin, the hand moving from her neck, down her front, then sliding up her shirt to play with her sensitive tits. and as she whimpers and whines, the body pressed against her back shifts, and she feels another pressure. a hard shape, pressing into her lower back. the poor doe's mind floods with images of what it could look like. big. stiff. leaking... gods she needs it.

the figure leans down, squeezing a tit in their hand, letting out a low, hungry growl into the faun's furry ear, the ear flicking, eyes widening, pupils dilating as the growl, the scent, the experience of it all activating something in her. a prey response of sorts. cornered prey.

while some react with fleeing, and other try to fight, there are some, always some, who simply

Faun

[karandashulik-25]

Monster gals

[fingertipsmp3]

Maybe I did this to myself but it does irk me when people see me knitting and they ask who it’s for and I say it’s for me and the immediate reaction is “you should sell it” yeah… let me spend at least a week’s worth of my free time making an item I like, want, and would wear just to sell it on etsy, making at most a £2 profit on materials and not being compensated for my time whatsoever 👍🏻

[herefortayloronly]

Star Wars is so much fun when you don't have a stick up your ass reminding you of lore shit and timelines and all that. It's like when will Star Wars fans just let go of this rigid rulebook they've decided is their bible. Those reylo fanfics are eating y'all up why? Because they don't take themselves seriously and that's how Star Wars should be!

[butmakeitgayblog]

Based on your tags, I thought you were gonna say something along the lines of finally having her fingers all to yourself

Lol I'm taking the question seriously, sheesh. And. Well. I mean she's a straight woman, so while yeah I go wild in my tags with jokes, realistically my guess is spending a day with her would be exactly the same as hanging out with any other straight girl. Especially one who has always lived as affluently as she has. Except she's also beautiful so I would have a hard time not just staring at her stupidly pretty face 😅

[revasserium]

the unofficial ultimate bungo stray dogs reading list

this is mainly for myself bc i rly do want to read most if not all of these and i'm sure it's already been done by someone somewhere. but, i thought why not post it lmao; most if not all of these can be found on anna's archive, z-library, or project gutenberg! (also, consider buying from your local bookstore!) for those that are a bit harder to find, i've included links, though some are from j-stor and would require login to access.

detective agency:

osamu dazai:

no longer human (novel)

the setting sun (novel)

nakajima atsushi:

the moon over the mountain: stories (short story collection)

light, wind and dreams (short story)

fukuzawa yukichi:

an encouragement of learning (17 volume collections of writings)

all the countries of the world, for children written in verse (textbook)

yosano akiko:

kimi shinitamou koto nakare (poem)

midaregami (poetry collection)

edogawa ranpo:

the boy detectives club (book series)

japanese tales of mystery and imagination (short story collection)

the early cases of akechi kogoro (novel)

kunikida doppo:

river mist and other stories (short story collection)

izumi kyouka:

demon lake (play)

spirits of another sort: the plays of izumi kyoka (play collection)

tanizaki junichirou:

the makioka sisters (novel)

the red roof and other stories (short story collection)

miyazawa kenji:

ame ni mo makezu; be not defeated by the rain (poem)

night on the galactic railroad (novel)

strong in the rain (poetry collection)

port mafia:

mori ougai:

vita sexualis (novel)

the dancing girl (novel)

nakahara chuuya:

poems of nakahara chuya (poetry collection)

akutagawa ryuunosuke:

rashoumon (short story)

the spider's thread (short story)

rashoumon and other stories (short story collection)

ozaki kyouyou:

the gold demon (novel)

higuchi ichiyou:

in the shade of spring leaves (biography and short stories)

hirotsu ryuurou:

falling camellia (novel)

tachihara michizou:

in mourning for the summer (poem)

midwinter momento (poem)

from the country of eight islands: an anthology of japanese poetry (poetry collection)

kajii motojirou:

lemon (short story)

yumeno kyuusaku:

dogra magra (novel)

oda sakunosuke:

flawless/immaculate (short story)

sakaguchi ango:

darakuron (essay)

the guild:

f. scott fitzgerald:

the great gatsby (novel)

the beautiful and the damned (novel)

edgar allen poe:

the raven (poem)

the black cat (short story)

the murders in the rue morgue (short story)

herman melville:

moby dick (novel)

h.p. lovecraft:

the call of cthulhu (short story)

the shadow out of time (novella)

john steinbeck:

the grapes of wrath (novel)

of mice and men (novel)

lucy maud montgomery:

anne of green gables (novel)

the blue castle (novel)

chronicles of avonlea (short story collection)

louisa may alcott:

little women (novel)

the brownie and the princess (short story collection)

margaret mitchell:

gone with the wind (novel)

mark twain:

the adventures of tom sawyer (novel)

adventures of huckleberry finn (novel)

nathaniel hawthorn:

the scarlet letter (novel)

rats in the house of the dead:

fyodor dostoevsky:

crime and punishment (novel)

the brothers karamozov (novel)

notes from the underground (short story collection)

alexander pushkin:

eugene onegin (novel)

a feast in time of plague (play)

ivan goncharov:

the precipice (novel)

oguri mushitarou:

the perfect crime (novel)

decay of the angel:

fukuchi ouchi:

the mirror lion, a spring diversion (kabuki play)

bram stoker:

dracula (novel)

dracula's guest and other weird stories (short story collection)

nikolai gogol:

the overcoat (short story)

dead souls (novel)

hunting dogs: (i must caveat here that the hunting dogs are named after much more comparatively obscure jpn writers/playwrights so i was unable to find a lot of the specific pieces actually mentioned; but i still wanted to include them on the list because well -- it wouldn't be a bsd list without them)

okura teruko:

gasp of the soul (short story; i wasn't able to find an english translation)

devil woman (short story)

jouno saigiku:

priceless tears (kabuki play; no translation but at least we have a summary)

suehiro tetchou:

setchuubai/a political novel: plum blossoms in snow (novel)

division for unusual powers:

taneda santouka:

the santoka: versions by scott watson (poetry collection)

tsujimura mizuki:

lonely castle in the mirror (novel)

yesterday's shadow tag (short story collection; i was unable to find a translation)

order of the clock tower:

agatha christie:

and then there were none (novel)

murder on the orient express (novel)

she is the best selling fiction writer of all time there's too much to list here

mimic:

andre gide:

strait is the gate (novel)

trascendents:

arthur rimbaud:

illuminations (poetry collection)

the drunken boat (poem)

a season in hell (prose poem)

johann von goethe:

faust

the sorrows of young werther

paul verlaine:

clair de lune (poem, yes it did inspire the debussy piece, yes)

poems under saturn (poetry collection)

victor hugo:

the hunchback of notre-dame (novel)

les miserables (novel)

william shakespeare:

romeo and juliet (play)

a midsummer nights' dream (play)

sonnets (poetry collection)

the seven traitors:

jules verne:

around the world in 80 days (novel)

journey to the center of the earth (novel)

twenty thousand leagues under the seas (novel)

other:

natsume souseki:

i am a cat (novel)

kokoro (novel)

botchan (novel)

h.g. wells:

the time machine (novella)

the invisible man (novel)

the war of the worlds (novel)

shibusawa tatsuhiko:

the travels of prince takaoka (novel; unable to find translation)

dr. mary wollstonecraft godwin shelley

frankenstein (novel)

[stoopid-turtle]

made-up mbti types for dd and gg

So the GQ event that dd attended recently (you know, the one with the love hat) was supposedly gonna share his MBTI type with us. I don't think they ever did, probably because dd just didn't do the test thing. I'm not surprised we never got to see his mbti type, but I did have my own guess as to what he'd score, so I figured I'd share here.

(As a note, MBTI is pretty much junk science but it's fun. Just don't take it too seriously. I used to be really into it in a fannish sense and it's the closest I get to woo-stuff. If you don't know what MBTI is, here have fun.)

Cut to the chase: I'd guess dd is ISFP. My reasoning below the cut.

Introvert - The best way I've found to describe the difference is that introverts recharge by being alone. That is, a weekend full of social engagements is something they need some alone-time after. For an extrovert, social events, themselves, recharge them. Being alone is what's exhausting and what they try to avoid.

DD's probably rarely fully alone, given his busy schedule and the life of a celebrity. But introverts have ways to introverting, even among a bunch of people. I think sometimes people conflate "introvert" to mean "shy", but they're not the same. I don't think dd is particularly shy. It's just all about where your energy comes from.

Sensing - This one is about how you process information.

As an illustration, my bff and I were on a road trip once. She's the type who liked to literally pull over a smell the freaking flowers. And she could name every single flower/plant/tree she came across. Her eye for detail and ability to describe things with precision is always boggling to me, because to me, the most I can say is something like "It was sunny and the trees are green". Very vague. All about the overall impression rather than the details.

In MBTI terms, my bff would be Sensing while I'm Intuition (this is the N. Just go with it). Intuition folks are thought of as the big picture, abstract thinkers while Sensing is about the details and about the Facts of the World.

I mentioned before that dd strikes me as a pretty literal thinker, and that type of thinking overlaps with Sensing more than Intuition.

Feeling - People get confused by this one. It's not about whether the person expresses emotions or anything like that. It's about decision-making. When making a choice, does this person weigh the pros and cons? Try to come to a reasonable and sound decision? Or do they go by gut, following their emotions like animes tell them to?

This is hard to assess because we don't know much about how dd goes about making the decisions he makes. We don't know what went into his decision to go into idol training, say, or why he put his hat in the ring for The Untamed.

I'm making a guess that he's more driven by emotion than thinking. This isn't to say he acts blindly without any thought or that he never makes rational decisions, but he weighs his feelings highly. He'll pursue a gay romantic relationship with another celebrity, despite the risks, because he's in love and, you know, he follows his heart. His decision to submit his headshot for The Untamed, especially, strikes me as being Feeling-driven. Given his career at the time, acting in a BL adaptation was off the beaten path and risky. He lost fans because of it.

I think both gg and dd make a feelings-based decision to drop candies for turtles. There's no rational business case to do so. It's simply because they value having a group of fans who recognize them as a couple and they want to keep those fans with them.

Perceiving - This one's about how you plan or organize your time (or don't).

Judgers are the type to have a planner with a set schedule a routine. They have trouble adapting when their schedule gets disrupted. Perceivers are more go with the flow, able to take things as they come. When taking vacays, they would rather not have a packed itinerary bc they want the freedom to go where the moment takes them.

This is also something I don't feel I have a lot of insight on. DD's schedule is heavily managed and heavily packed, and he spends most of his time diligently following along with that schedule. That's part of his job, though. On his own, would he be inclined to keep to a schedule? I kinda don't think so.

I'm just going based on his...um...general chaotic energy. That and his tendency to do his KPI social media posts all at the last minute. Classic Perceiver move.

***

So, ISFP. In truth, each of these traits is a spectrum and people show examples all along the different traits at different times (for instance, dd's decision-making in SDC is typically strategic rather than based on feelings). Most things are based on context. But this feels right to me, overall.

For gg, I haven't watched near as much of him as I have of dd, but a guess would be INFJ.

Feel free to share your own ideas. Or squee about the love hat. Whatever. 🐢🐢🐢

[vanmarkus]

if you see me being more sporadic around here and only reblogging edits and tags, just know it's because I can't deal with the endless specs from people who will cry about queerbait and bad writing when (and it's a when not an if) their theories get disproven and act like the show is about two characters only

I just can't deal with it guys, it's annoying as hell

[kuuchuuburanko]

but if I say 'kaiser would rather continue the cycle of abuse than get therapy' I'd be jumped so I won't say that someone else said that not me tho

[msburgundy]

not sure exactly what i did this morning when i sat up by my shoulder kinda rolled out again, not nearly as bad and seemingly without further injury so i'll still count the overall healing progress as good. i just wish i knew why so i knew where to focus

it seems like it doesn't like to be extended forward while in internal rotation, but i'm not sure what i should be targeting to fill that gap?

[seasaltandcopper]

vampire hunter AU Pt 2

[Prev] | [Next]

Summary: Mal is handed over to Teddy by the vampire hunters.

(This one got longer than I expected, and is still mostly set up for the story and dynamics, but it's also chock full of whump, so I feel like I'm splitting the difference.)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of torture, blood and gore, violence, manhandling, nonsexual nudity, imprisonment, starvation, dehumanization, ‘it’ as a pronoun (only used by one character)

“Mal.”

One word. One name. It dropped from the hunter’s lips and snagged Mal’s attention like a fishhook through the gut. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard someone say his real name out loud.

Years, probably.

And now it spat from the mouth of this woman, this hunter, like a curse. Like some personal ax she had to grind with him.

Like she knew him.

Stiffly, Mal raised his head enough to get a better look at her. Short. Subtly curvy, but muscular. Dark skin, deep brown eyes, well-kept hair, all leather and denim and piercings with an attitude to match. The ensemble practically screamed, pick a fight with me and see what happens.

Teddy smelled like clean sweat, gun oil, and the intoxicating vibrancy of blood flowing through her veins. Life. Food.

God, he was starving. He was so fucking hungry it hurt. More than hurt. Hurt was a broken arm, a knife digging between his ribs, the burn of a cigarette put out on the arch of his foot—this was closer to losing a piece of his soul. Feeling it shredded and screaming in agony without relief.

Mal swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth before he choked on it, and tried to ignore the twisting in his gut as the smell of them permeated the cramped space. He held Teddy's gaze, sunken eyes peering out through a mess of filthy hair, but the flash of recognition he hoped for never came. She stayed unfamiliar. A stranger.

But one who obviously thought she knew him.

“Today’s your lucky day, bloodsucker,” she said, eyes flint-hard and sharp enough to cut. “You’re coming home with me.”

What?

Mal blinked. It took longer than it should have for reason to catch up and plunge icy fingers past the fog of exhaustion and pain. He’d expected—well, more of the usual. Another guest looking to blow off some steam, or getting “justice” for someone Mal had likely never laid eyes on in his life.

This wasn’t the first time the hunters had brought in a friend; honestly, the bleak-humored side of Mal was surprised they hadn’t thought to charge admission. Probably could’ve made a nice little profit on the side.

Still, the script stayed the same: they took him out to hurt him, and after they got tired or bored or felt they made their point, someone dragged Mal back to his box. Time passed, alone, in the dark—sometimes hours, sometimes days—before he was fed just enough blood to heal the worst of his wounds.

Then the cycle repeated.

Over and over and over. A horrific, never ending nightmare, but a familiar one.

Leaving with another human—no, a hunter, who knew his name, how did she know his name, who was she?—smashed every established pattern to pieces. Unease tangled like thorny brambles inside his rib cage, clawed at the back of his throat.

Mal couldn’t ask what the hell she meant; he couldn’t even open his mouth, muzzled like this. Cautiously, he glanced towards Brooks, hoping for some kind of clarification.

The hunter chuckled. Hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, and leaned back against the wall, smug as could be. The nasty glint in his eyes sent a cold tremor down Mal’s spine; he dropped his gaze back to his lap.

Brooks was one of the ones who’d taken a personal liking to Mal, early on. Back when they’d been uncommonly cruel in their attempts to wear him down, testing the limits of their creativity with techniques that still left Mal nauseous to think about.

If Mal’s heart had been capable of more than sluggish, off tempo beats, it would’ve raced.

“You got your own restraints for transport, or should I write up a slip for loaner gear?”

Reaching behind to unclip something from her belt, Teddy flashed a standard issue set of cuffs and a muzzle, then tossed it to him. “Here.”

Brooks snagged the gear out of the air. Stepped away from the wall with a sigh. Tensing, Mal pulled in a shallow breath through his nose, and watched Brooks out of the corner of his eye. The man’s black-polished boots crunched on the grit strewn floor.

The woman made a noise at the back of her throat. Derisive. “And hose him down or something before you bring him out. Smells like someone left roadkill in a hot van.”

Brooks snorted. A half-beat later, the toe of his shiny, black-polished boot slammed into Mal’s hip. It tore a pained exhale from him as he lurched to the side, the clatter of metal singing against brick. Catching himself on his forearm, Mal winced at the stripe of skin he lost for his trouble. Blood welled up in dark beads, staining the pale firebrick with more of the same.

Dead blood.

It wouldn’t satisfy like fresh, human blood would. It didn’t smell like anything at all. But the sight of it still tied Mal’s insides in knots as the instinct to feed spiked in response.

All his body understood was that it was starving, and that looked like blood, even if logic knew it was only a trick.

“Look, I don’t give a shit about the transfer order. Whatever. You want the vamp, you can have it. But we’re not runnin’ a grooming service. You want the thing washed and styled, do it on your own damn time.” Eyes still on the other hunter, Brooks tangled a gloved fist in Mal’s hair and hauled him upright. “Alright, shitsucker, let’s go. Up.”

Scrambling to get his legs under himself before Brooks left him with a bald patch, Mal twisted and choked on the words trapped in his throat. The sudden shift in gravity left his head spinning, limbs somehow both too stiff, and too wobbly to fully bear his weight.

Legs shaking, Mal planted his feet as best he could, but stayed on his feet. Barely. 

Just do it. Hurry up and get it over with, I can’t—

Brooks came to the same conclusion a second later. He hissed an irritated sigh, and released his grip on Mal's hair. Unsupported, Mal sagged on his feet, brows pinched in a pained grimace.

“Lazy motherfucker,” Brooks muttered. “Told you. Give ‘em an inch…”

Yeah, and I'd tear your throat out, you fucking bastard.

Strong fingers dug into Mal’s arm as Brooks worked to unlock the manacles. Heavy iron clattered to the bricks. Then again, as Brooks stooped and did the same for Mal’s ankles.

Without the added weight, Mal felt marginally steadier on his feet. And uncomfortably naked.

Gingerly, he ghosted bony fingers over the red, raw patches of skin circling his wrists. Black humor bubbled in Mal’s chest, and he swallowed back a laugh. Now he felt naked—without the extra pounds of iron weighing him down—but not because he hadn’t worn clothes in years.

On his list of priorities, Mal's desire for pants had dropped depressingly low over the years.

At least when Brooks cuffed him again, arms behind this time, he left Mal’s ankles unshackled. The muzzle went last, and a part of Mal hated himself for the way he tilted his head without prompting, obediently offering Brooks better access to the buckles; the rest of him didn’t give a shit, as long as it got the fucking thing off faster.

Brooks tugged it, giving the muzzle a disgusted look as no small amount of crusted gunk and scabbed tissue pulled free too. Mal barely noticed. After days suffocating in the thing, he was just glad to have it off.

He sighed. Worked his jaw, and held back a groan as sore muscles twinged all the way down his neck. Dried bits of filth Mal definitely did not want to identify crumbled loose with the movement. More of it itched under his nose and around his mouth, but the worst still matted the scruffy mess of facial hair stubbornly clinging to his jaw.

Even when they deigned to leave the muzzle off, there was only so much grooming he could do without access to water or rags or full use of his hands.

At some point Mal just gave up trying.

Gloved fingers snagged his chin, pulling Mal from his thoughts. He flinched. Not enough to pull loose—even reacting blindly Mal was smarter than that—but enough to earn an amused snort.

“Maybe it could use a hose down,” Brooks muttered. He ghosted a leather-clad thumb over Mal’s chin, squinting. “Ehh.” Then shrugged, wiped his finger clean on Mal’s shoulder, and lifted the replacement muzzle to fit in place.

Mal shivered as worn leather kissed his skin again. It sat overlapping some of the bleeding lines chafed by the old one, bright stinging pain sinking into a deeper, throbbing burn as Brooks cinched the straps tight.

At least this one was purely to prevent accidental bites—just a simple, boxy wire guard and leather straps—not like the ones Mal was used to, meant to completely immobilize the jaw.

He could still open his mouth. Take a real, full breath. Run his tongue over the outside of his teeth, or lick his lips. Talk.

This was fine. Mal could deal with this. This was—better.

After double checking his handiwork, Brooks laid a heavy palm on the back of Mal’s neck. He tensed, visceral disgust tingling down his back and making his skin crawl. Touch didn’t carry many pleasant connotations these days, but being touched by Brooks left Mal feeling genuinely sick.

The hunter squeezed once, pinching with his index finger and thumb. A warning.

“Let’s go,” Brooks ordered. “Move.”

Gentle pressure turned to a vice grip, and Mal hissed. His entire body was an ugly patchwork of marks—welts, burns, the scabbed over remnants of a recent caning, bruises layered on bruises; and his neck was no exception.

Brooks’ fingers molded themselves to older blue-green imprints, pressing hard. A sharp boot-tap to the knobby part of Mal’s ankle followed, and he cringed at the pathetic, wounded-animal sound that rose in his throat. Lurching forward, he struggled to stay on his feet and limp along at Brooks’ pace.

“I’m—trying,” Mal rasped, frustrated. He tripped again on the lip of the kiln. Would’ve fallen if Brooks hadn’t literally had him by the scruff. Shit.

The world pitched. Dark spots burst across Mal’s vision.

“Quiet.”

Fuck you.

Teddy followed silently, a dark smudge in the corner of Mal’s vision as Brooks manhandled him out of the room. Up one flight of concrete stairs. And another. Past the living quarters, and then into a part of the compound Mal only remembered seeing once: a pair of heavy steel doors that led outside.

Out, to the wide, open world and a night sky Mal hadn’t laid eyes on in years. He didn’t notice he was shaking until they stopped. Blinking rapidly, his vision strobed. He felt light, fuzzed at the edges, like he was about to pass out.

The pressure vanished from the back of his neck. Replacing it, a hand curled around his upper arm. Skin to bare skin. Warm skin, and slender, strong fingers. Though Teddy's hands were smaller than Brooks’, one of them still managed to encircle the entire circumference of Mal’s bicep.

There just wasn’t anything there anymore.

Side by side, Mal figured he stood a good five or six inches taller than her, but she probably weighed more. She sure as hell could’ve picked him up if she felt inclined.

“I got it from here,” she said, to Brooks.

A nod. “Sure. An’ listen, you change your mind, you can always drop it back off. Teddy, right? No questions asked.”

“Mm.”

“Yeah, alright,” Brooks said. “You got my number if you need anything—” A pointed pause. “Y’know, anything—handlin’ advice, someone to share a drink with…”

Grimacing, Teddy shot Brooks a look that would’ve vaporized a weaker man on the spot. “Yeah,” she drawled. “I got it.”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Brooks took the hint. “Alright, alright, Jesus.”

Eyes the color of dark amber settled on Mal’s face, and this time he visibly grimaced at the attention. Swallowing hard, he tried unsuccessfully to push back against rising anxiety as Teddy addressed him directly.

“You try anything and I’ll break both your legs, and drag you the rest of the way to the truck by your hair. Got it?” He nodded.

Yeah. Mal got it. And his tentative hopes for ending up somewhere even marginally better than here dwindled by the second.

Warm, sweet smelling night air folded around them as they stepped outside. Grumbling to himself, Brooks turned and vanished into the compound without a word, not even sparing a glance back.

He’d probably agonized more over tossing out an old pair of boots. Or getting shot down by a cute hunter.

With a sharp bang, the doors pulled closed behind them. Sighing, Teddy tightened her grip. Something Mal couldn’t identify flickered across her face. Disgust? Anger? Whatever it was, Mal blinked and it was gone.

“C’mon. I wanna beat the sunrise home.”

AN: Annnnnd we're about to start really getting into the meat of it. I actually planned for more to happen in this chapter and had to shove that in the next one, and this still ended up 3x longer

Next chapter we get to meet Will, the other half of the hunter duo

Taglist: @whumpsday @writereleaserepeat @thecyrulik @lookbluesoup

[britcision]

So like it’s not gonna be soon or consistent but I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again so this is your One Warning Delicious in Dungeon crowd

Magic Lube Thursday may be making a comeback.

We even get the new anime episodes on Thursdays it’s perfect