#oh no baby vertical height :((((

[gallusrostromegalus]

Ask game: 39, 39, 39, 39, oh and also 39

Blease give me more of your writing your brain weirdness is extremely satisfying to my brain weirdness in a way that few others understand or can replicate

Immediately after the battle with Aizen, in what's left of Fake Karakura:

--

Something neon pink appeared at Shinji's elbow At Speed and he startled, yelping loudly and having to fight the reflex to kick what appeared to be a small girl.

"HeyifyouseemydadIwaswiththefallbacktimethewholetimeokay?" She spoke at a speed Shinji had only ever heard from a dangerously overcaffienated Mashiro before.

"I'm not lying for you, Kusajishi." sighed Kuchiki.

"YACHIRU!" someone bellowed loud enough to make the few unbroken windows ring, and Shinji turned to the sound of Ominous Jingling to see a giant of a man with a peculiar vertical hairstyle and a captain's Haori approaching, livid.

"Shit." She muttered, turning to grin sheepishly at her father as he stomped over, expression dark and a tiny, teal-haired toddler on his hip.

"Where were you supposed to be today?" The Giant growled down at Yachiru, and Kuchiki excused himself to sit down on a nearby piece of bench-height rubble.

"...You told me to stay with the fallback team in Seireitei." She sighed.

"So why are you here?" the giant growled.

"BECAUSE YOU'VE BEEN WEIRD ALL MONTH AND IF SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOU IN LAS NOCHES I'D NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF!" She shouted, reflexive foot-stomp blasting out a wave of enraged reiatsu.

"So, uh, who're Pinky and Punky here?" Shinji asked, limping over to sit down to watch next to Kuchiki.

"Eleventh Division Captain Zaraki Kenpachi and his daughter, Yachiru Kusajishi." Kuchiki nodded. "They're loud, but honorable and reliable."

"I'VE BEEN WEIRD ALL MONTH BECAUSE- Shit, it's- Its complicated, okay?" Kenpachi groaned.

"And the other girl?" Shinji asked.

"I believe Kurosaki said her name was 'Nel' or similar." Kuchiki nodded. "Not entirely sure why Zaraki is the one carrying her around but it's nothing to worry about. He's great with kids."

"SINCE WHEN HAS 'COMPLICATED' BEEN A REASON TO HIDE STUFF FROM ME?" Yachiru demanded, bristling at him.

"Great with kids, huh?" Shinji glanced over at Kuchiki.

"-BECAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON EITHER UNTIL ABOUT TWO HOURS AGO! WHAT IF SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED TO YOU, HUH? IT'S *MY* JOB TO WORRY ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND DAMMIT!"

"Oh, nevermind, I see what you mean." Shinji nodded and there was the barest hint of a smirk on Kuchiki's face.

Yachiru sniffled, tearing up with rage. "WHAT? I'M NOT ALLOWED TO WORRY ABOUT YOU!?"

"YOU CAN WORRY ALL YOU WANT BUT YOU CAN'T RISK YOUR HIDE FOR MY SAKE, THAT'S NOT HOW IT FUCKING WORKS-!" he roared, jabbing his finger at Yachiru.

"Can I have a juice?" the teal-haired toddler asked from Zaraki's hip.

"-In a minute Yachiru, I need to-" Kenpachi started and stopped. He blinked a few times, then slowly turned to frown at Nel, then at Yachiru, then back at Nel, pointing between the two girls and expression shifting from rage to utter confusion.

"Did you see another abandoned baby and just pick it up because it was Yachiru-shaped and Neon Colored?" Kuchiki called, teasing.

Kenpachi looked up at him, bewildered "MAYBE??" and Yachiru rolled her eyes behind him.

"That’s the most 'Raised By Birds' thing you’ve done in a while." Kuchiki laughed, getting up to peer down at Nel with curiosity.

"Raised by WHAT?" Shinji asked, jogging up after him.

Kenpachi Stood up straight, shaking his shoulders like he was ruffling feathers. "One, I’m not putting her back, two, who the fuck are these assholes?" He asked, gesturing at Shinji and the other Visored who had started to gather in the rubble to catch their breath after the battle.

"Remember how half the captains had fallen in battle or otherwise vanished before you showed up?" Byakuya asked.

"No, because I wasn’t there." Huffed Kenpachi, rifling through his Kosode and producing a Juice Box for Nel. "-but I remember Ikkaku complaining about the employee turnover."

"-AND I WAS RIGHT!" Ikkaku bellowed from his stretcher behind them, too injured to stand but not about to stop fighting, as expected of someone wearing the 11th Division's lieutenant insignia.

"YOU'RE STILL IN DEEP SHIT FOR THAT BANKAI THING, CUEBALL." Zaraki holled back at his lieutenant, who only turned his head away, sulking.

"Apparently the assorted missing officers weren’t dead, they just caught an artificially induced case of hollowfication from Aizen, but managed to survive and stayed out here in the living world to recover and learn to control their abilities out of sight from him." Kuchiki explained. Beside them, meaningful eye contact was exchanged between father and daughter, and he gave her a juice box as well. "Tactical." Zaraki nodded approvingly. "Also, non-zero chance The Old Man would have killed y'all on sight."

"Er. Yeah." Shinji winced, looking over his shoulder to where a surprisingly non-apocalyptic-looking Captain-General was discussing something with Unohana.

"This man specifically is is Hirako Shinji, Aizen’s former boss." Kuchiki continued, introducing them properly. "Captain Hirako, Captain Zaraki."

"Hiya!" Shinji grinned, holding out a hand for Zaraki to shake, but instead, he too was handed a juice box.

Kenpachi eyed Shinji in a not precisely hostile but still unnerving manner, as he offered Kuchiki a juice box as well and when turned down, opened it for himself and drank, studying him.

"…This explains six or seven things." Zaraki finally spoke, nodding sagely.

Shinji glared up at the giant. "Excuse me?"

Kuchiki waved a hand between Shinji and Zaraki. "I promise, it’s technically a compliment."

"Yeah, if Ken-chan didn't like you, you wouldn't have a head right now." Yachiru giggled.

"Mostly explains the two sets of teaspoons in the 5th division break room." Zaraki nodded, holding his hands out to his sides. "You're, whatsit- tiger-tiger thing?"

"Huh?" Puzzled Shinji.

"Symmetry?" Tried Kuchiki. "I do recall Captain Hirako having immense talent with mirroring and reversing text and other things."

"That's the bitch!" Zaraki grinned. "Not a bad idea though, you always have enough spoons."

"Huh. I guess so?" Shinji pondered, eyeballing Zaraki in turn. "Kenpachi, so you're captain of the 11th? If I remember correctly, Kiganjo was the tenth Kenpachi- so how many Kenpachis did we run through while I was away?"

"Just him for the last century. Only the two serious challenges to his post." Kuchiki explained, looking almost... proud? There were strange political currents swirling here, leaving Shinji feeling adrift.

"For real?" Shinji asked with genuine admiration. Outside of statistical outliers like Unohana and The Old Man, it was rare for a captain to hold their post for more than two centuries, and the average in the 11th more like 60 years.

Kenpachi waved his hand noncommitally. "One and a half. Tetsuzaimon Iba was really challenging his Mother by proxy." he corrected, head tilting with a jingle and Shinji realized the vertiginous hairstyle was there to support a dozen or so small bells, before the rest of the sentence caught up with him.

"Tetsuzaimon?" Shinji blinked. "Wasn't that what Chikane Iba was going to call her son?

"Yah." Zaraki nodded, sounding like a sleigh full of presents.

Shinji stared blankly. "But- but- She was still pregnant when I.. left? He’s an infant!

"Nah, Lieutenant Iba's a whole-ass man now." Zaraki looked over his shoulder. "Ay Iba-" he called to a robust man with sunglasses wearing the 7th Division's lieutenant's badge, currently engaged in picking up Ikkaku and moving him out of the way for the 4th division triage. "-How come you're spotless when my vice looks like someone fucked up at the abattoir?"

"Hi Captain Zaraki!" Iba waved back, , Ikkaku slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "It's because he's a fucking idiot, sir!"

"FUCK YOU!" Ikkaku shrieked, flipping them off from where he hung awkwardly over his friend's shoulder.

"FUCK ME YOURSELF YOU COWARD!" Zaraki bellowed back.

Shinji watched the spectacle with wide eyes, slowly coming to an unpleasant realization, before slowly putting a hand on Kuchiki’s shoulder. "…Sojun." He sighed, using his colleauges given name with heavy morose. "I’m afraid we may be Old Men now."

Kuchiki turned and blinked at him, confused. "I’m Byakuya."

It was Shinji's turn to stare in confusion. "...Kuchiki Byakuya isn't even in the Academy yet?"

"No, I'm a captain now. Sojun, my father, died shortly after your disappearance." Apparently-Byakuya explained, arching a concerned eyebrow down at him.

"Fucking what." Shinji said flatly, feeling like he'd been drained of all color and redrawn with a sharpie by someone's off-hand.

"HAH!" Barked Zaraki. "Yer Old Fart, Tiger."

Byakuya scoffed up at Zaraki. "What’s that make you then?"

"An Ancient and Revered Relic, thank you." Kenpachi said, puffing up his chest in mock-pride.

"What's going on?" Nel asked Yachiru in a loud whisper.

"Bowlcut here is an old fart who is just now realizing that he's an old fart, but he’s younger than me, so he’s also a baby." Yachiru explained. "Either way, impressive bowel control for his age!"

"HEY!" Yelped Shinji.

"Drink ya Battle Victory juice, Tiger." Zaraki said, giving Shinji a consoling pat on the shoulder.

"...It's a bitter Juicy Juice I drink this day." Shinji sighed, disconsolately stabbing the box with the straw and drinking with despair.

[izzabela]

How about the linkuei trio with a female partner who is just a little bit taller than them? Personally, I find it adorable when in couples, the woman is taller. Plus, our boys are also very tall :>

Height Difference - Lin Kuei Trio x fem!reader (headcanons)

in which you were blessed with great vertical length

a/n: something something something Tomas would ask us to sit in his face

ship[s]: tomas vrbada , bi han , kuai liang x fem!tall!reader (separate, headcanons)

warning(s): MDNI beyond a certain point

Tomas Vrbada

- Tomas minds his business when you pick something to wear. heels? lovely, put em on and make yourself tower over him. short dresses? absolutely, let him see your legs

- he absolutely loves when you feel yourself, confident in the blessing of your genetics

- he's little spoon fifty percent of the time. no, he doesn't care ("please hug me like i do you", he asks constantly)

- head pats. head ruffles. mess his hair up. anything involving your hand on his head is a must

- he will still carry you- bridal style is his favorite. thats definitive

- he loves dancing with you. slow dancing especially, the way you look at him as your head tilts down ever so slightly to meet his equally soft gaze

Bi Han

- Bi Han is reluctant to show intimacy in public, but in private he loves leaning on your shoulder when it's just you two

- Bi Han is a confident man, and he would actually put anyone in their place of they told you that you weren't allowed to wear things because you were tall

- you're a good sparring partner. when he's alone with you, he'll probably mention you're a good reference for fighting people

- you like it when Bi Han makes you feel like a woman. what i mean is that you still feel feminine and cutesy and lovey-dovey with him because of the natural masculinity he oozes- basically he still makes you feel like a cute short girl when you're having those days

- just like Tomas, Bi Han will carry you. except he's more than bridal style: over the shoulder, bridal, one arm- i don't know, i don't care

- Bi Han, when not around others, will rest his head on your shoulder

Kuai Liang

- he will always look up at you, smiling and giddy. he just loves to look up and see the love of his life

- he doesn't care, he will be affectionate in public and love up on you like Tomas

- Kuai Liang does dip kisses. idk i can see him doing ig

- Kuai Liang does the thing where he traces your silhouette like he's drawing. fingers gently gliding across your arm, shoulder, back of your neck- he loves that

- Kuai Liang also big on leaning his head on your shoulder, but he does it whenever and wherever he wants

- Kuai Liang does not mind if you throw your arm over his shoulder. he'll match your energy and wrap one arm around your waist and the other holding your hand that's over his shoulder

MDNI HERE ON OUT======

Tomas

- SIT ON HIS FACE. HE LOVES WHEN YOU SIT ON HIS FACE

- i think Tomas can be switchy- dom one night and sub next. he's a mixed bag of nuts

- when he's sub for the night, oh baby does he love when you're pulling his hair, forcing him to eat you out without air, or just being rough with him in general

- "show your mistress how much you love her," you command. his eyes are glazed and lost, the scent of your slick and the heavy air of sex getting him high

- when he isn't subbing, that man will fuck you like no tomorrow. however, he likes to see you on top of him in some way

- "come on, dove," he coaxes you gently, ironic to how fast his hips buck into you as you're moaning and gasping for air as he fucks you. "you're doing so well, dove. up and down- good~"

Bi Han

- he's on top always, but i think he likes to see your silhouette and admire how tall and lengthy you are (legs and arms wise)

- "beautiful," he says between gritted teeth. in doggy, he's got the perfect view of all of you: your ass on his dick, back dimples so deep that his thumbs were practically made for pressing in them, the fact your back was out in its glory. "my beautiful song bird"

- he'd fuck missionary too. your legs over his shoulders, meaty cock pressing into the tip of your cervix as you beg for more, more, and more

- Bi Han likes to bound you in something. hands behind your back, tied up wrists, etc etc. it might have to do with the fact he can see your entire, elongated figure. you like it too, don't worry

- sit on his face too, for sure, but he's more into 69. you're gagging, sobbing even, over his cock bullying your throat as Bi Han condescendingly asks if you like it ("you do?" he laughs maniacally, bucking his hips deeper. "have some then, my song bird")

Kuai Liang

- i think he'd pick you up and fuck you. whether you're facing him and you're foreheads are touching, or your back is against his and he's practically pistoning in and out of you

- mirror fucking! he wants you to see all the parts he finds pretty about you. "don't you see how pretty you look, darling? pretty little legs out so you can see how well i'm feeding that little hole of yours~"

- dirty talk! so much dirty talk about you and your greedy cunt, sopping wet cunt, how pretty you look spread out and dripping

- i think he's into the bjs where he's standing, holding your hands up by your wrists, and humping into your mouth as you whine and cry on his thick length

- Kuai Liang is probably into the sitting blowjobs too, where you're the one looking up at him instead of the other way around

- something something something, Kuai Liang fucks you sideways. your leg is in his hand as your legs are spread wide open, full access for his cock to fuck deep in you

=====================

whew okay finished

guys the voices are calling me to COD i wanna finish all of these before i hit it tho

[atsullia]

It's been a while since I requested from you and because I spent half of my evening being teased for being short here's something </3

Can you write something about Raichi (lovingly) bullying his tiny s/o for being small and then they tease him back for something else out of nowhere and Raichi's just like "Where did that come from?" because he didn't know his s/o could ever say something even slightly mean HSBFNDNKDND

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 (𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲)

Pairing(s): Raichi Jingo, Reo Mikage, and Rin Itoshi x gn!reader (separately)

Author Note: This fanfic has been rotting in my drafts for days💀 Nah because fucking kids be making fun of me for being short😔😔 Life is not daijoubu🫠 the other two is kind of different from Raichi's but it still fits the title :)

Warning: swearing. And maybe one dirty joke? Eh. The reader is short.

 ꒰‧₊˚RAICHI JINGO☆༉‧₊˚.

In all honesty, it wouldn't be Raichi Jingo if he didn't tease you about your height. He would literally bully you about your height in any chance he gets, and sometimes it's not even related about how short you are!

He would always rest his arm on your head, making you an armrest for him as he chuckled in such a smug way you wanted to punch him.

This time was no exception as Raichi and you were walking down the sidewalk after eating lunch, he puts his hand on your head as he squished you down to make you shorter.

"You're so short, y'know-" Raichi chuckles as he ruffles your hair with a smug look on his face, "You're like the same height of a 7th grader! So smol and tiny."

The tone of his voice was baby-ish as he did it to rile you up on purpose. You stick your tongue at him and remove his hand from your head, "Raichi."

He perks up hearing his name, "Hm?" Your boyfriend looks down on you as he saw you smiled, which pique his interest.

"Y'know what else is small?" You looked up at your dear boyfriend as a smile turned into a smirk. Raichi blinked repeatedly at you, not knowing what's the answer, "wha-"

You snort a laughter and cut him off, "your dic-" And suddenly you felt your boyfriend elbow you on the side, not letting you finish.

"What the fuck!" Raichi blushed as he bonked your head and pouts, "Where the hell did that come from?!" You could only snicker at his reaction while coughing a bit from being elbowed.

"C'monn didja really have to elbow me that hard?" You huffed as you two continued to walk down the sidewalk- Raichi rolled his eyes at your question, "You deserve it. Plus, I didn't hit you that hard."

You stick your tongue out at him, neither of you two decide to continue the conversation, making the walk silent- until a few minutes, you wanted to lighten the mood a bit by making a joke.

"Hey, do you know what else is har-"

Raichi bonked you on the head as he stopped holding your hand and walked faster.

"Jin! Jingo!" You called his name and started walking slightly faster, trying to catch up with your boyfriend, "C'monn dudee!! It's was a joke!"

꒰‧₊˚MIKAGE REO☆༉‧₊˚.

Reo loves how short you are. He would sometimes tease you and call you pocket-sized or fun sized. He says it in such an endearing way that you can't stay mad at him- even if you wanted to.

You were about to get something out of the cupboard and tiptoed to get something, then you felt arms wrapped around you and someone resting their chin on your head, and chuckled.

"Do you need help with getting something, shortie?" Reo teased as he squeezed you in his arms, "Oh, sorry- ahem, I mean vErTicaLly cHAlLeNgeD~"

"I don't need your help, lamppost."

This is what you said before, but after three minutes of suffering and tiptoeing, you reluctantly requested Reo's assistance. He was smug as he added salt to the wound by mocking you, "I thought you didn't need from a lamppost."

Embarrassed and ashamed, you opened the cupboard again and accidentally struck Reo in the face with the door. Though it was an asshole move, you couldn't help but laugh. "Wow, Reo, you're so tall that the cupboard door hits you!"

While you laughed at him and hurt his ego, he still helped you get a cup from the cupboard, like a good boyfriend he is.

"Thank you, lamppost~♡" You winked at him. While you were taking Reo's cup, your laughter died down a bit. "Tsk- your welcome, shrimpy," Reo rolled his eyes as he pouted, humbled by the damn cupboard.

 ꒰‧₊˚ITOSHI RIN☆༉‧₊˚.

Rin usually doesn't tease you about your height, but that doesn't mean he won't do it at some point. But there are times when he can't help it. You'll be in the same room as each other, and he'll give you a little smirk before asking, "Hey [name], can you get the English dictionary from the shelf?"

And of course, it was on a part of the shelf you couldn't reach. You couldn't even get it if you tiptoed.

"Hmm? What's wrong? Can't you reach it?" Rin asked. The tone in his voice was smug and condescending. You couldn't help but feel a little bit irritated by his tone and the way he asked the question.

"Shut up." You muttered, sitting on Rin's bed, doing schoolwork.

In response to your reaction, Rin snickers as he looks back at what he was doing before. "Y'know you're so short? Like very short," He commented out of nowhere, while you two were doing schoolwork.

"Honestly, I can't imagine being short like you," Rin smirked. He was really adding more fuel into the fire.

You narrowed your eyes as you stared daggers at him. That little shit- you could feel yourself getting more irritated as he talks even more.

"Hey Rinnie?"

"Hm?" He stopped at what he was doing and looked at you, "Y'know what's my favorite thing about being short?" You smiled as you watched his reaction, seeing how hard he thought, but couldn't come up with anything.

"I like being eye leveled at your mom chest~"

Rin took a long ass time to process what you said.. but when it finally clicked, he instantly blushed red.

"Y-you!" Rin stuttered as he threw a book at you, dodging it before he could hit your face. His flustered reaction makes it very amusing and funny to you.

You couldn't help but snicker at the tall boy's reaction- now you're the one with a smirk, enjoying every second of his reaction.

After a few minutes of you trying to dodge Rin's throws and not get hit, his mother entered the room, causing you to stop in your tracks. Resulting in your face being hit with a pillow. "Ow."

"Rin," His mother crossed her arms, sounding like she was about to scold him. She glanced at you, who was sitting on the floor, touching the place where the pillow hit you. "How could you do that?!" She sighed as she helped you up from the ground. Rin looked slightly disappointed but not ashamed of his actions.

"That must've hurt, sweetie," Rin's mother smiled in reassurance, "do you need a hug?"

You looked at her with a grin and were about to say yes before you got pulled by the collar of your shirt by Rin, "Oh hell nah!"

Rin glares down at you. After the comment you made, he ain't trusting you near his ma.

[volann-art]

Short comics I drew for uni with my OCs – Plamena (with darker hair, her family immigrated from Bulgaria) and Sonya (lighter hair, was asked to help Plamena adjust) (translation/explanation under the cut, I didn't translate the comics themselves bc with some it's literally impossible)

Digital:

Traditional:

These aren't in the order in which the tasks were given

1 – the task was to make a comic using 3x3 grid and static camera. Music is Baby Don't Dance by Mother Mother (see what I did there???)

2 – the task was to use sounds and a, like, more complicated grid that doesn't have a name. I hope it's obvious what the sounds mean, and the one speach bubble says "Well, at least it can't get worse" (I took some creative liberties with this translation)

3 – we had to draw 5+ iterations of the character in one space

4 – Had to use vertical/horizontal grid. It's just one person speaking, so monologue:

"Sonya, here you are! This is your new classmate, Plamena. She recently moved here with her parents from Bulgaria. Plamena knows the language pretty well, but she still needs some help to catch up with the program. And, well, you're always alone, it would be good for you to make a friend. You also happen to be the best in languages in the class. /next part is hand-written in white/ Can you help her with studying?"

4 – Oh boy, this is one of those impossible to translate. Let's start with the simple part, the task was to draw a dialogue and use different compositions to make it look less boring, and put it in a grid that goes in lines of the same height.

So, why can't I translate it? Bc this is an explanation of Bulgarian tenses by Plamena, who's native language is Bulgarian, for Sonya, who's native language is Russian, done mostly in Russian language (and compared to Russian tenses) except for several times when Plam accidentally starts speaking Bulgarian. Both are slavic languages written in cirrylics, so there are some similarities between them. Plamena's phrases in Russian are also spoken according to the way the same sentences would be structured in Bulgarian, and she avoids the forms of words that don't exist in Bulgarian. There are only three tenses in Russian, so when Plamena, after explaining three of Bulgarian tenses, says that she will explain the other six next time, Sonya is very surprised that there are that many. I don't know who my target audience is except for myself.

5 – this one is a sequel bc Bulgarian tenses deserve it. The task was to use frames that, like... go over/under grid. Anyway I can directly translate this one.

Plam: It's locked in here.

Sonya, after some time: What are you looking at?

Plam: Nothing.

Sonya: You sound suspicious, let me see!

The phone interface is in Bulgarian, the first result is Wikipedia. The search is "tenses in Bulgari-" (it cuts off)

Sonya: You don't understand them yourself!

Plam: Nobody understands them!

Moral of the story is I don't understand them.

6 – The last five are all one task to use five types of frame-to-frame transitions listed in Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics. Most are without dialogue, but the one that is... Yes, it's another untranslatable one. Ъ in Russian is a letter that doesn't have a sound and only affects the letters that surround it. In Bulgarian, however, it's a vowel with a very distinct sound. Here, Plamena tries to tell Sonya how to say it, but Sonya doesn't get it and gives her a million of completely different sounds. Again, I don't know who my target audience is except for myself. Well, here it also is everyone that I've put in Sonya's position over the years, they get it too.

Since you're already here, some designs that I simplified anyway:

You can find how they look in several years in this post.

P.S. I would explain Ъ as a sound that is written down as "mmm", but usually it doesn't help.

[therewillbenoromance]

UR AWAKEEEE

I was playing RW earlier but I was in the Hell Dimension (areas I mildly dislike) so I took a break :3

ALSO I FOUND AN AREA NOT ON THE INTERACTIVE MAP?? LIKE AT ALL!!! I was specifically in the Miros Birds section of Shaded Citadel and I KNOW that I was not to a new area yet bc I hadn't found the little cave with the baby bugs but there was this little tunnel into a tiny rectangular space (about the width of a large vertical shelter, maybe twice the height of a large vert shelter?) with a 3-lines pipe and it led to this room with two other 3-lines pipes one to the left one to the right and when I went to the left there were a TON of lanterns on spikes like a scavenger merchant but even more and when I backtracked and went to the left there was I think two flashbang plants below me bc I was about halfway up on a big platform and if I went off to the right I could drop in some water and go left to the flashbangs and another pipe! And when I went in that room the game told me that dark areas have light-sensitive creatures or sth! But I didn't want to go somewhere I couldn't navigate with no idea where the shelters or food were so I went back to the surface and was waddling along with Bubbles on my back and the miros birds just BARELY got me bc I had to turn back and was JUST short of the pipe but yeah I found an area?? It might've just been Pipeyard or something and not on the map but the thing is the little cave wasn't on it either? OH itwas probably the one mod that adds a dark place and 2 new slugcats nvm! That makes sense! It was so cool though I had no idea what was going on :0

oh that's a lot

yeah it's probably that mod lol, but though i don't use the interactive map much [i opt for the wiki graphicals], i saw someone complaining that it didn't have every area at some point? that could have also been it if that hasn't been resolved, so you might encounter a situation like that again outside of the mod doing things !!

[windupnamazu]

smells like sardine spirit!

ffxivwrite2023 #07: noisome having an extremely offensive smell.

Lunya, @hqmillioncorn's Babycorn and Cherrypit, and @perrytheplatyborg's Himbo Hooters. A Realm Reborn, flowrverse (shitpost flavour). 1155wc. ⮞ A little deodorant would go a long way, but I'm not sure you'd remember what that is either.

It was a normal day in the Lavender Beds. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Babycorn Corn was eating mud.

Just last week, «flowr»'s FC hall finally finished construction after a gruelling week of its members running around gathering as much gil as they could. The very last of it came from Lunya, who apparently squeezed an Ul'dahn merchant so dry she came back with not just his gil but the clothes he was wearing that day and the rights to his nextborn child, the contract of which she promptly set on fire. While the house was fully built, what it wasn't was furnished, and with no kitchen to dig through the cupboards of and unwilling to swallow her pride and ask anyone for lunch, Babycorn did what she did best: improvising food.

"Thish mud's pretty tashty," she told her baby brother between mouthfuls of the wet dirt. Cherry babbled a giggle out as he slapped his oversized sleeves to the ground, splashing their midday meal onto his face. "But itsh kinda hot today, ishn't it?"

It was an impressive 32 degrees Celsius, of which the Eorzean equivalent is unknown to me, reader, and remarkably humid. It had rained that morning and left the Shroud quite muggy.

As the siblings alternated between rolling around in the mud and eating it they didn't notice the hulking figure stumbling up the hill towards the cottage, water and mud dripping from his form with each tired step as he searched for sanctuary. As he reached the gate he teetered and fell straight through it and into the middle of Babycorn and Cherrypit's lunch with a huge splash.

"So… hungry…" he moaned into the mud with a horribly deep rumble of his stomach.

Babycorn's pom nearly flew off her head in alarm, kept on her head simply because it was weighed down only by the layer of mud he splashed on her.

"MONSTER?!" she shrieked, diving for Cherry and whisking them both out of their puddle.

Snapping into consciousness, the so-called monster straightened up and looked around in a panic, mud dripping from pearly white fangs. "MONSTER? WHERE?" the monster shouted, only to be hit once more by the sheer heat of the day and how dehydrated and hungry he was. His head hit the mud once more with an exhausted groan.

"Babagaga," Cherry said wisely from the safety of his sister's arms.

"Oh, not a monster?" Babycorn wondered, poking the not-monster with the toe of her boot. "...Do you think it's edible?"

Moments later Lunya rounded the corner carrying a tower of cardboard boxes taller than Vertical Height herself, which she promptly dropped upon seeing Babycorn about to take a bite out of some stinky and unconscious stranger. She started caterwauling, sprinting towards them at an impressive speed for a girl wearing stiletto boots on wet grass for some reason.

"BABYCORN CORN," Lunya howled, shaking a fist in the air, "PUT THAT THING DOWN, YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE IT'S BEEN!"

"Party pooper," muttered Babycorn, blowing her bangs out of her eyes as she dropped the arm of what upon closer look was a sopping wet catman. No, not the Miqo'te kind, but a larger, fuzzier variety.

Lunya came to a screeching stop next to them. The mudcatthing was snoring away, blowing bubbles into the mud in a way that would have been comical if it wasn't ruining some perfectly good food. She grimaced at its filthy appearance and the bizarre smell radiating off him. "What's a Hrothgar doing in our yard? And why does he smell like he dove through a fish market's post-closing garbage processing center?!"

"Beats me," huffed Babycorn, already uninterested since she wasn't allowed to eat the guy.

"He doesn't seem injured," Lunya said contemplatively. "Just… stinky." With a whirl of her pointer finger a hose came flying around the corner of the house followed by bottles of dog shampoo and conditioner. "If he has to lie unconscious in our yard he should at least have the decency to smell nice while doing it."

Babycorn hissed at the hose as it passed by, which Lunya thought was a nice bit of character development from the last time she had to bring the hose out and Babycorn tried to bite it. Setting the nozzle to 'angle', Lunya hit the Hrothgar with a blast of water.

"BWHHHHBWHWHBBRHHBWHWW," the Hrothgar spat, sitting upright in confusion as he was assaulted with each of the settings on Lunya's latest beloved acquisition from the Gridanian garden centre while she looked for the best one.

"Oh, you're alive!" Lunya said cheerily. "Cherry, do you wanna soap him up?"

"Sop, sop!" Cherry agreed. Or maybe he was saying soup. That was a bit more concerning. Either way, he took one of the floating bottles of dog shampoo and handed it to Babycorn, who uncapped it, handed it back to him, and took four steps back. There was no way she was going to get forcibly given a bath today, no sir!

Cherry promptly dumped half the bottle onto the Hrothgar's knee.

"Would you mind getting out of the mud for me?" Lunya asked the Hrothgar, who was only getting increasingly more confused by this bizarre turn of events. "It's kind of making the whole point of this moot."

"Uh, okay?" the Hrothgar said, and he got up and walked over to a clean patch of grass dripping dog shampoo and mud and water with Lunya and Cherrypit following behind.

"So, what's your story?" Lunya asked conversationally as she rinsed him down and revealed he was, in fact, really a Hrothgar. "Got drunk at the Mirror Planks and fell overboard and washed up here? Alcohol abuse is bad, you know. You got a name?"

"Ba!" echoed Cherry.

The Hrothgar stammered. "H… H… Something with an H…Hem… Him…?"

"Bo," Cherry said with a satisfied nod.

"Himbo?" Lunya wrinkled her nose. "Weird name. I mean, I guess we have a Vertical and a B'ig and a Babycorn, so it's not really that weird in the grand scheme of things—"

"My name is not weird!" Babycorn cried, stomping her boot in the mud and splashing more of it up her leg. "Your name is weird!"

"And you're getting a bath next," Lunya threatened, turning and pointing the hose at her. Babycorn screamed.

"I don't, um, really remember anything," 'Himbo' admitted over Babycorn's furious shrieks that no, no, no, you can't clean me! Na na na na na! I hope you trip and slide on a soap bar!!! "Who I am or where I came from or, uh, why I'm being given a bath. I just know that I'm hungry."

"Well, we can fix that last part, at least," said Lunya. "You wouldn't be the first amnesiac we've taken into our fold. How do burgers sound?"

"What's a burger?"

"Lunya," Babycorn gritted out from behind the tree she was now hiding behind, "this is dire."

[p-s-smith-author]

Twisted Trope #1

A link to one of my stories

Twisted Trope #1

Five wagons rumbled down the road to the edge of the swamp, their wheels crushing the stray blades of grass that tried to grow in the ruts. The horses and mules that pulled the carts hung their heads in the warmth of the late morning.

Eight soldiers sat in the back of the first wagon. The dour expression on their faces showed they did not want to be here or like the task assigned to them.

The next wagon was a prison wagon. A simple affair with two small windows and a heavily latched door, much like a cell, in which contained a single prisoner. The young man was lean, with well knotted muscles. He wore only a loincloth and was curled up asleep like a baby in the straw in the cage. His pending fate did not seem to concern him.

After it, rolled an open air wagon with a vertical post affixed to it. A woman, clad in a dark-colored robe, was standing with her wrists shackled together near the top of the post. Because of her shorter height, she had the appearance that she was stretching, and at times, she seemed to whisper to herself through her gag.

Lounging on some crates at the foot of the woman was a youthful looking and well-dressed man. This dandy was hiding his face from the sun underneath his wide-brimmed hat.

Next came two more prison wagons. The first had bars in place of sides. There were a dozen men inside cramped together. Ruffians who had caused the Magistrate too much trouble in too short of time. They were filthy and foul tempered from being in close corners together.

Behind this, the last wagon of the same design as the first. Its sole occupant was a grimy dwarf whose last bath was a bucket of water tossed on him three weeks ago. His beard was soggy from where he had been drinking beer from a horn and sloshed repeatedly.

These fifteen prisoners were sentenced to die. The dandy had volunteered to die. That is, they would die unless they could perform a task for the Magistrate: Kill a dragon and rescue his child, Tailor.

The driver of the lead wagon leaned over to the captain, who was sitting beside him, and asked, “What is the story with the prisoners?”

The captain shook his head. “Don’t know. I don’t think the author has developed them that far yet. If he has, we’re just a couple of C-type characters, so he won’t tell us unless he needs us to say something about them.”

“What are you on about?” the driver said, cocking an eyebrow at the captain.

“C-types, like us, are usually thrown into a story to move things along or to explain something. We at least get a purpose in the story other than fill, unlike those D-types back there.”

“But even if I knew something more about those four B-types, I can’t say anything without permission because of the NDA’s we are under.”

The driver screwed his face. “NDA’s?”

“Non-Disclosure Agreements. We are not allowed to talk about the details of the story outside of it or we could get deleted,” the captain said with a slight nodding of his head.

The driver shook his head. “No. I mean, what did those sixteen prisoners do to get this type of death?”

“Oh, that. The lot in the prison wagon were all part of a tavern brawl where captain Major got killed.” The captain nodded his head towards the wagons behind them.

The driver’s eyes got wide. “Major was only a captain. I thought he was a Major. Anyway, it took twelve men to take him down? I knew he was tough, but I never dreamt that.”

“Nope, just another captain. Anyway, those blokes didn’t kill him. They were the ones brawling. That guy in the loincloth in the wagon behind us is the one who killed him.”

“Him? By himself? Sleeping like a baby without a mark one on him. How?”

The captain shrugged his shoulders. “Ripped his arm off.”

The driver’s jaw dropped. “Ripped his arm off? How?”

“Yeah, Major wanted to arm wrestle him and he just ripped Major’s arm off. “

“All over because the Captain Major wanted to arm wrestle?”

Shaking he head, the captain said, “Not because Major wanted to arm wrestle, because Major did arm wrestle him. As I heard it, it was a legit match. That guy jerked Major’s arm over so hard and fast that he broke the table and ripped Major’s arm off in one swoop. When he broke the table, it sent stuff flying, which set off the brawl.”

“Feel bad for Captain Major, but I would have liked to have seen that. But what of the others?”

The captain rubbed his chin. “Well, the dwarf got picked up after the brawl. He was coming into the travel after the Watch closed it down for the night. He got upset and started punching and kicking people to get to the bar to get a drink. Funny thing is, that horn he has is full of beer and doesn’t seem to run out.”

“The woman tied to the stake, they think she is a witch.”

The driver let out a little gasp. “A witch?”

Again, the captain nodded. “At least they suspect her to be one. She was in the tavern when the fight broke out and a couple of people reported that some objects thrown in her direction hit some sort of invisible wall.”

The driver closed his eyes. “Surely they tested her.”

“They did. They dunked her and she floated, but when they doused her with holy water, nothing happened. The tribunal couldn’t decide if she is or isn’t, so they’re treating her like one until they’re convinced she isn’t.”

The driver nodded as he fixed his eyes on the road. “So then, the guy in the cart with her is one of those witch hunters?”

The captain laughed. “Nope. Just some stupid dandy who volunteered to join this miserable lot when he heard they were being sent to rescue Tailor, the Magistrate’s kid. He seemed to get all hot and bothered by it, and he never bothered to find out a dragon took Tailor.”

The driver doubled over laughing, and the captain quickly joined him. “Oh, is he in for a surprise then,” he said once he caught his breath.

The procession rolled on for another hour as the field on one side slowly gave way to forest, initially, then dipped down to a boggy marsh. Plainly heard were the sounds of frogs and the buzz of insects. On the other side of the road was a farmer who was plowing the field with an ox.

“Stop,” said the captain. “This is as good as any spot.” He waived his arm signaling the others to stop as well. He then climbed down and walked to the farmer.

A few minutes later, the captain and the farmer, who was now leading his ox, came back to the wagons. “All right men, get up and get things unloaded,” he said to the soldiers in the back of the first wagon.

The eight men stood and jumped down off the wagon. They first went to the witch’s wagon where they roused the dandy and pulled off three crates that they set on the ground. Then went to the next wagon and pulled out the twelve prisoners. Of these, they selected two to go to the wagon that held the dwarf and ordered them to remove him.

One of the two prisoners climbed into the wagon with the dwarf. Once inside, he started to rustle the dwarf to get up and get out of the wagon. The sounds of some scuffling and the dwarf bellowing something unintelligible soon followed this. The prisoner who had gone inside came hurtling out of the wagon and landed on his back with a heavy thud.

The dwarf, whose face was flushed red, then appeared at the door saying, “I’m going to pound you…” His words were cut short by the spears of two guards in his face. “Easy lads. Can’t a dwarf enjoy a drink,” he said, a smile appearing under his beer drench beard and mustache as he took a long draw from his horn.

“Come on. Out with you,” one guard barked at the dwarf.

The dwarf finished his drink and slowly climbed down saying, “Alright, alright. You don’t have to be so rude about it.”

The other prisoner went to help his companion up. The man laying on the ground appeared to have a broken nose as it was shifted to one side and now bleeding profusely. In addition, one of his eyes was swelling.

As the two prisoners and the dwarf were ushered to where the other prisoners were standing, the guards selected another pair of prisoners to retrieve the man in the second wagon. After seeing what had happened to the first pair, these two were far more cautious in their approach.

Much to their relief, the two prisoners didn’t have to do much more than gently shake the man’s leg to wake him up. He willingly climbed out of the wagon and with a long, loud yawn of “Ugh,” he stretched and adjusted his helmet so that its single bull’s horn faced up.

Finally, two guards went to retrieve the witch. One of them hoisted her up by the waist while the other used his spear point to unhook her chain from the post before leading her to the prisoners. With every prod and touch, she would protest through her gag and try to lash out.

While the prisoners were being assembled the captain and farmer had led the ox to a tree and had hitched it there. He then turned and motioned the guards to bring the prisoners down to the edge of the swamp.

Once everyone had assembled, the captain looked at the dandy and asked, “You name, sir?”

“Incognito,” the dandy said in reply.

“Sorry sir. I have to make an official statement so I will need your name.”

“Incognito. That is my name.”

The captain took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I don’t have time for games.”

“F. A. Incognito. My father was T. F. Incognito,” the dandy said with a slight wave of his hand.

The captain rolled his eyes and said, “Except for Ms. Azaranna and Mr. Incognito, you have all been condemned to death. However, the Magistrate wishes to show a measure of mercy.”

“There is a dragon that resides in these woods. Said dragon has abducted the Magistrate’s adult child, Tailor. Should the dragon be slain, its horns returned as proof and Tailor rescued unharmed, all survivors are to be pardoned.”

“As a tribunal could not determine if Ms. Azaranna is a witch or not, she is to accompany you. If the dragon attempts to befriend her, she is to be considered a witch and to be executed. If the dragon attempts to abduct her, she is not a witch and is free to go.”

The prisoners mulled this over amongst themselves before one of them asked, “What about the dandy? What’s his punishment?”

The captain smiled and said, “Mr. Incognito has volunteered to assist in the rescue of Tailor.”

The prisoners and guards all busted out laughing at this, as it drew a slight frown on Incognito’s face.

“In order to have a reasonable chance at success, the Magistrate has authorized me to provide you with tools and supplies to aid in this quest,” the captain said after the laughter subsided. “They are contained, with your personal effects, in the crates on the side of the road.”

The captain gave a curt nod to the guards before saying, “Oh, by the way, this dragon happens to like cattle but doesn’t care for horses.” He then drew his sword and slashed the ox on its rump and then dashed to the wagons before speeding off.

The ox bellowed in agony at being slashed as blood started pouring down its leg. The prisoners stood eying the ox as the captain ran off.

“That was a foolish thing for the captain to do. Doesn’t he know that will likely bring the dragon here?” Incognito said.

This sent most of the prisoners scurrying up the slight incline to the road to find that the wagons were now several hundred yards away. They immediately turned their attention to the supplies to find all the crates nails shut and no tools to open them.

While the prisoners were struggling with the crates, Azaranna, Incognito, the dwarf and the prisoner in the loincloth at the edge of the woods near the wounded ox. The dwarf looked at Azaranna. “Bloody rude of them to run off and leave you shackled and gagged like that.” He then took another long drink from his horn, not showing any interest in helping her.

Seeing that the dwarf would not help Azaranna, and Incognito was busy watching the other prisoners fight with the crates, the man in the loincloth stepped over to Azaranna and removed her gag. “Thanks,” she said when it was finally off. “I was about to choke on that thing. Now if we can just figure…”

She didn’t complete her sentence as the man pried her shackles open, freeing her. He then attempted to throw the shackles over his shoulder, but got them hung on the ram's horn of his helmet.

Wide eyed, she said, “Thank you, I’m Azaranna. And you are?”

“Ugh,” the man said.

“Ugh? Are you alright? Can’t you speak?”

He said “Ugh,” again, shaking his head.

Looking at the other two people by the forest, she said, “Is there something wrong with him?”

The dwarf stopped drinking long enough to say, “Don’t know. I could have been drunk at the time, but I don’t think he said anything while we were in jail other than ‘ugh.’” He then took another drink.

“Don’t look at me. I like to moderate my dealings with witches and barbarians,” Incognito said.

Azaranna put her hands on her hips and glared at Incognito. “‘Moderate?’ In what way?”

The blood ran from Incognito’s face when she looked at him. He swallowed hard and said, “K… Keep to a minimum. Av… Avoid if possible. I’ve heard you are a finicky lot and I don’t want to risk offending you.”

“Bah,” Azaranna said, waving her hand at him. “So, let’s see if I can figure out your name. I won’t use any magic. Is it Lif? Yok? Tom? John?”

She tried a dozen names after each one, the barbarian would shake his head and say, “Ugh.”

“I give up. I guess I’ll have to call you ‘Ugh,’ until I figure it out.”

At the mention of the word ‘Ugh,’ the barbarian nodded his head and pointed his finger at himself as he said, “Ugh.”

“So either your name is ‘Ugh,’ or you want to be called ‘Ugh.’” Azaranna put her palm up to her face. “O.K. lets go and see what those cretins left us.” She then turned and went back to the road, followed by the other three.

The other prisoners were still fighting to get the crates open, but had made no progress. Two of them were trying to bash them open using rocks, but they were doing better chewing up their hands than actually opening the crates.

After seeing the futile attempts to open the crates, Ugh strode over to one of them. After squeezing in, he used his fingernails to pry the lid of the crate up slightly. Then he worked his fingers underneath and began lifting the lid up. With a groan of protest, the nails slowly released their grasp leaving the first crate opened.

Inside they found six spears with warped shafts and tips that looked like they had never seen a sharpening stone. Several prisoners pushed their way in, shoving Ugh to the side to get to the spears.

“Ugh,” he said in protest.

The dwarf let out a loud belch. “Lousy lot that is. I don’t think you could stab butter with those things, much less a dragon’s hide.”

The ones who had grabbed the spears now looked at the tips and saw the rust and rolled over edges. While they were examining the spears, Ugh opened the second crate, which also contained six spears in the same condition as the first.

“Hey, dwarf. You can fix these spears and make them magical,” one prisoner said.

“Nope,” the dwarf said as he took another drink.

“No? You’re a dwarf. Aren’t you supposed to be able to make magic weapons?”

“Nope.” The dwarf belched again. “No coal, no forge, no sharpening stone. Besides, you need a dwarf who works steel. I never learned to work steel, only iron.” He took another drink.

The prisoner looked at the dwarf wide eyed. “What do you mean you never learned to work steel?”

The dwarf nodded his head to one side as he said, “Just that. I never learned to work steel. Didn’t get that far as a smith. My teacher said I drank too much to learn. I think he was peeved that I drank the entire class under the table. Or was it because he caught me with his daughter? Wife maybe? It’s all a little fuzzy.”

The prisoners groaned hearing this and now knowing they would have to make do with their wits and what weapons they had.

Finally, Ugh opened the third crate. This one contained the personal effects of the prisoners. Azaranna reached in and grabbed a whip that was sitting on top along with a satchel. “Good, they left me my herb pouch.”

“Who untied you?” another prisoner protested seeing Azaranna reclaiming her possessions.

“Ugh was nice enough to.”

The prisoner grabbed Ugh, who had just pulled a six inch stick out of the crate and stuck it in his loincloth, by the arm and roughly spun him around saying, “Why did you do a stupid thing like that, you ape headed moron?”

In response, Ugh used two fingers to grab the man by the nostrils. Then lifted him up, turned him over before slamming him down on the ground with a solid thud. After slamming the man down, Ugh then removed his fingers from the man’s nostrils and wiped them on the man’s shirt. “Ugh,” Ugh said with a glare in his eyes.

After the other prisoners saw what had happened, they immediately started gathering around Ugh, brandishing their spears. In response, Ugh pulled out his stick and held it between his thumb and forefinger as he waved it menacingly at the others.

Everyone immediately jumped back when they heard a deafening thunderclap a few feet away. When everyone looked to see what caused the sound, they saw Azaranna standing there, her whip in hand, now covered in nasty looking thorns. Her hair fluttering as if it was being blown, only there was no breeze.

“Back off him, or I’ll flay your,” she started to say bitterly before she seemed to stutter on the next word. “Clothes off you,” she finished in a more apologetic tone.

This brought a few raised eyebrows as the men started lowering their spears. Ugh put his stick back in his loincloth as the men were no longer threatening him. “Well, at least we know for certain she’s a witch,” one man said.

Another said, “Maybe we should make her a broom so she can fly and locate that dragon.”

“Make her a broom? She’d fly away, you fool.”

“Besides you fool, I can’t ride a broom. Do I look like a house witch or a hedge witch to you?” Azaranna said.

This set off a murmur amongst the men, as they discussed Azaranna not being able to fly. After much discussion amongst themselves, one man asked, “If you’re not a witch, then how can you do magic?”

Azaranna rolled her eyes as she shook her head. “I didn’t say I wasn’t a witch. I said I’m not a house witch or hedge witch. They are the ones who ride brooms.”

“Then what are you?”

“You could say I’m a dark witch. I’m not opposed to helping people, for a price, but get on my bad side, I’ll.” Azaranna’s face contorted as she tried to say something before finally saying in a different voice, “Have you over for dinner.”

She then shook her head and said under her breath, “Will you stop that?”

Again, the men murmured amongst themselves. While they were talking the dwarf went over to the crate that had contained their personal effects and pulled out a black smithing hammer, saying, “That’s right, it was his wife and his sister!”

Everyone turned to look at the dwarf over this revelation. As a response, he simply took another drink.

Afterwards, one man asked, “Then how do you get around?”

Signing, Azaranna said, “You really know nothing about witches do you? Mostly by walking, though we can ride horses. Provided I get my license, I can drive a cauldron in six-months.”

The men started looking at each other. “Drive a cauldron? Like Baba Yaga?”

“Just like her. As I understand it, she was a fiend at the cauldron races,” Azaranna said, nodding her head.

“Excuse me. I hate to interrupt this discussion,” Incognito said. “But won’t the dragon be coming for the ox? I mean, shouldn’t we be making some plan or preparing for it?”

Ugh said, “Ugh,” and shook his head.

“The pretty boy is right,” the dwarf said. “Want to find its den or nest. Don’t want to try to fight it in the open.”

Closing his eyes, and with a flair of his hand, Incognito said, “It is Mr. Incognito to you. And what is your name, Sir dwarf?”

The dwarf looked around, as if trying to remember something. “Can’t remember. Let me get back to you on that one, fancy-pants.”

As the group started to make for the forest, one prisoner said, “Shouldn’t we help number twelve up?”

“The one that the barbarian nose slammed? I thought that was number seven,” said another prisoner.

Another prisoner shook his head. “No. I’m number seven. I swapped roles with number twelve. He wanted the hazard pay for this scene and now I get to yell ‘charge’ when we find the dragon.”

Several of the prisoners nodded in agreement at this as a couple went to help number twelve up. As most of the group was entering the forest, Azaranna put both hands to her face and whispered to herself, “We’re doomed Maroth. A dandy who I bet fears his own shadow, a dwarf who is so drunk he can’t remember anything, twelve prisoners who don’t even rate names or descriptions, and me being possessed by an angel. Besides us, the barbarian is the only one who seems to be capable, but has a vocabulary of just one word.”

In a slightly masculine, but soothing voice, she said, “I know. But there is some hope. We both have multi-issue deals. Maybe something else will come along before the author is done with us.”

“Yes, but this issue is almost over and the next one constitutes ‘multi,’” she said in her normal voice.

She then felt a hand on her shoulder followed by a comforting squeeze. When she looked to see whose hand it was, she saw Ugh standing beside her.

Looking back at her with a sympathetic expression, he nodded slightly. “Ugh.”

[rexhya]

louis ˚ପ⊹ L. W

{ click here to learn more about how powers, elements, space, time, and creatures work on this here earth. as well as the setting and where louis's life takes place }

General Information : { for ↯ }

Full Name : Louis Lupaul Watergate : 🪼

Nickname (s) : Lou { Mom } , Loui [ pronounced loo-ee ] { Rueben }, Paul { Dad }

Age : 22

Height : 5'9 { 175 cm }

Weight : 153 lbs { 69.4 kilo's }

Birthday : May 22nd 3202

Gender : Male { he/him }

Species : Human ◡̈

Race : Blasian

Ethnicity : Portuguese

Blood Type : O-

Occupation : Collage Student at University of New Port Isalnd

Allergies : most sea foods

Likes & Dislikes :

Likes

ChiChi { his pet bird }

His Mom

Math

Water

Breadcrumbs

Sea Creatures

Dislikes

Collage

His Dad

Tattoos

People who Smoke

Hobbies : playing bass, reading.

Physical Appearance : 🐋

kinda skinny, not much muscle mass but not a twink bod either. helllaaa piercings, but usually doesn't wear all of them at once to stray from looking too intimidating. { hardly matters bc he constantly looks dead but it's the thought that counts } he's pasty white, not dealthy white, just pasty white. like a newborn baby, no thanks to his very white mother and even whiter father. his eye bags are unmatched, that's why people say he's dead, because he perpetually looks tired and drained. the first thing you would probably notice about him is his eye bags.

on his left ear, he has a double heilix, and 3 normal studes on his lobes. on his right ear he has a gauge { medium sized } and a conch. on his nose he has a bridge, and a septum { least favorite } and on his eyebrow he has a vertical peircing. on his lips he has dolphin bites { his favorites } which concludes all 9 peircings ( and counting ) louis has aquired.

{ again, he doesn't usually wear them all at the same time, the ear piercings stay in more often though }

his usual attire is warm clothes, trench coats, turtle necks, dress pants, casual formal things like that. occasionally you might see him in some extra casual street wear or something similar however his mother usually disapproves so he sticks to what he knows best. { clothes like his father unfortunately }

he also has a tiny little mole on the back of his neck near his hair, oh right ! i almost forgot his hair. it's jet black and down too his back. any dye he tries to use on it hardly lasts a week, strange condition he's had, doesn't bother with it anymore. it's in a messy sort of curly way that people always say he should cut, kinda mangled, not too much, he's busy. also dark blue eyes, like, dark-dark he's not some freak like gojo, they're not so noticeable if you dont pay close attention.

he can be very androgynous at times but doesn't really mind, his mind wanders elsewhere.

no marks or scars { yet } but he does have a little nick on his lip from when he fell over as a kid.

he's left-handed and has really bad posture { college is really not nice to him } but is actively working on it { he's got a professor that has a really bad hunch which motivates him to sit up straight }

General Traits : 🐋

good : disciplined, tolerant, kind, can read a room.

bad : silently judges you, a bit aloof, impatient.

Personality Type : 🐋

INTP-T -> he's curious, and kinda scrambled, but smart. He can be sociable when he wants to although he's kinda forced to in his courses. he's an introvert at heart so any alone time he can get he values greatly.

he doesn't have "trouble" per say, making friends but I can't say he has a lot { he literally has one } . He isn't very talkative either but can really get to yapping if you ask the right questions.

he wants to understand everything in the universe, all the creatures, people, stars, animals, every living, breathing, moving thing he can get his hands on. { why he's traning to become a certified space voyager }

he's a sponge, he soaks up information quickly and is driven by curiosity. as he retains more, and new information { whatever the topic may be } he's easy to change his perspective on said topic when new information arises.

he's honest, but not insensitive, he won't say something nice but rather not say anything at all, it's what he believes is the safest, best option for most sticky situations.

people sometimes can see him as aloof, disconnected or distant and he is, but he isn't unfriendly or anything, maybe a little awkward and thoughtful but not mean. the type of person too lets you borrow a book even if you're basically a stranger to him if that makes sense.

he's also a bit of an overthinker, not on purpose but he tends to over analyze things to the point where he ends up nowhere, again, brain habit not on purpose.

Self Perception : 8/10, views himself to be pretty good at math and pretty okay at everything else. likes himself.

Other Information : 🐋

Multi-lingual? : Nah, He only speaks English mostly because his Dad wasn't around to teach him Korean and his Mom hardly knows any. { and when his Dad was actually around he didn't speak it much so there was no hope in that }

Fears/Phobias : sleeping apparently, the bags get worse everyday.

Quirks : pulls up his dolphin bite when he's thinking, dye's his hair as soon as the next color runs out, cleans fingernails, has horrible handwriting.

Good Habits : really polite, takes the trash out on time.

Bad Habits : being disorganized & organized at the same time, overcrowding himself with work, biting his finger nails.

Pet Peeves : dirty bathrooms, cluttered rooms that aren't his own.

deep ⚓️ sea dive 🤿 with louis ≈

deepest secret : he misses his dad ᴖ̈

deepest fear : finding out there's actually something wrong with him like he thinks there is { super-powers incoming }

biggest regrets : getting so many peircings over the years

biggest insecurity : he feels like hes a coward a lot of the times, it bothers him more than you would think. he feels a sense of responsibility to stand up for people but somehow, doesn't.

RELATIONSHIPS | 🌌 { galaxy galore ! }

#make friends louis :

Family : { intermediate }

Mom ;; very good, he loves his mama just as much as she loves him, he's very much a mama's boy. not like their relationship is perfect or anything theyre son and mother—it's not supposed to be, but there hardly any turbulence really. the only times things get rocky is when he feels like she's keeping secrets from him { which, she is } but he usually drops it because the conversation goes no where.

Dad ;; kinds shit, dad left when he was like 8 and only appears every 3 years. he wishes his mom would spill about his whereabouts or even a sliver of information about him but nope. she stays shut like pandora's box { resentment incoming } .

Siblings ;; N/A, only child.

Other Main Characters : { friends }

Rueben ;; good ! ◡̈ , she a space freak, he's a water freak, they bond over time. they hardly ever seriously argue and despite there very obvious differences they work well together. especially when mulling the complexities of time, space, and energy...

# que the philosophical deeptalk :

Charles ;; also good, they're little buddies and relate with their human to animal capabilities and struggles. charles kinda see's him has his and ruben's kid they adopted, louis is fine with that since he feels so much younger than them even though he's not.

# que the daddy issues :

Roxy ;; she's got a crush on him but he definitely doesn't reciprocate, she knows this but always says it's because she's 'too young' { she's 19 } . things hardly get awakward like you think they would tho. they can genuinely have conversations without it straying too her feelings and shit like that. she builds machines, { weapons } him and the rest of the crew use them. it's as simple as that. { she'll never forget the time he said she could have a kiss if she locked in to defeat a monster though }

# que the girly scream :

Others : { side characters }

Classmates ;; Has a few aqquaintcess here and there but only one earth friend. { Toxander } His classmates kinda think that he thinks he's too good for them because he's really smart and especially good at math but thats really not the case at all

Professors ;; His teachers like him, he's a good student and like i said before very intelligent plus he stays out of trouble so.

ChiChi ;; it's good of course, he's never had a thing for birds untill he met her { and Rueben of course }

SPECIAL ABILITIES | 🪼 { 🧜🏻‍♂️ }

# i guess that brings me too powers n shit : 🐋

⟣ on a scale of 1-5 stars, untrained ⟢ { ✦✦✦✦✦ / ✧✧✧✧✧ }

untrained : 🪣

physical strength : ✦✦✦✧✧

mental strength : ✦✦✧✧✧

speed : ✦✧✧✧✧

agility : ✧✧✧✧✧

durability : ✧✧✧✧✧

stamina : ✦✦✧✧✧

intelligence : ✦✦✦✦✦

energy : ✦✦✦✧✧

—

special moves :

[ LOCKED ]

[ LOCKED ]

[ LOCKED ]

[ LOCKED ]

—

⟣ on a scale of 1-5 stars, trained ⟢ { ✦✦✦✦✦ / ✧✧✧✧✧ }

physical strength : [ LOCKED ]

mental strength: [ LOCKED ]

speed : [ LOCKED ]

agility : [ LOCKED ]

durability: [ LOCKED ]

stamina : [ LOCKED ]

intelligence : [ LOCKED ]

energy : [ LOCKED ]

special moves : [ LOCKED ]

notice : this is an oc! everything you just read is very much subjective to change and purley for fun ! dont look to deep into it.

[fionacle]

in my dream there was other stuff going on but the important part is chops from animal crossing tried to mug me (was able to get away with all my stuff though 👍)

also there was a part where i was at an ex-friend’s house with her dad and we were housing Lady Redundant Woman and she’d been redeemed and living as a nice normal happy citizen (not as Beatrice though) and she was supposed to go on a date soon. Then somehow she turned into a giant lava monster. I don’t remember what happened after.

Some other parts of the dream that stood out requires cws & going under the cut, first one my sister gets attacked & i mention a parasite, second one involves harassment & inappropriate stuff (not necessarily NSFW i think but it’s weird)

so we were in the basement and it turned out my sister had a twin but they were killed by a heart-eating parasite in the womb, and it’s been living attached to her this whole time but hasn’t tried to kill her yet. Then it took the form of a fetus and started chasing her trying to eat her heart. i stepped in to help & tried to bash its head with a large plastic baby doll but it was too heavy so couldn’t swing very fast. she again survived the ordeal with no consequences 👍

At some point i was hanging out with some girls and they told me there’s this little cafe where girls lift up their shirts to show off their chests to all the boys there, during the time when the barista had their back turned to make the orders. i was like oh that sounds fun haha & went in. all the walls were half-walls (like half the height of a person) and there was no roof. i WAS planning on participating (VERY out of character for me??), but then i turned around & saw the boy behind me had his phone out recording, he was trying to make it inconspicuous so i wouldn’t notice but bro you’re holding a phone vertically with one hand pointing it at me and giggling with your friend i’m not stupid. so i swat his phone down and when the person turns around i’m too worried so i don’t do it. i just act like i didn’t know this was the boob cafe and get my drink.

[katsukikitten]

Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

[ticklepinions]

Let's Talk: Tall People

Tall people... You know em, you love em, or maybe hate them because they're so vertically blessed. But how much do you really know about our gentle giants? If we take a look at the animal kindgom, we see that elephants perceive humans the same way humans would regard puppies. In simpler terms, elephants see us as adorable puppers. This is important, because this translates into tall humans seeing shorter humans as cute and adorable lil puppies.

You may be wondering, Onion, what the heck does this have to do with tickling? I'll get to that soon. Did you know there are many perks of being tall? Being the big spoon, reaching things on the top shelf and uh other things I can't think of. What's funny about humans is that we tend to want what we don't have. Those with curly hair sometimes wish they had straight hair and vice versa. It's similar with height. There are cons to being tall like, seldomly being the lil spoon, short ceilings/doorways, lightning would be more likely to hit us in an open field, always being asked if you play basketball and immediately being suggested that you should if the answer was no, etc.

Okay Onion- we get it. Alright you impatient people. When it comes to tickles, tall people don't have more advantages compared to a shorter person, that's what society wants you to believe. This is a guide on how to wreck tall people.

Cuteness Exploitation

You're short and cute. Use that to your advantage. Ask for a simple hug but instead wrap your arms tight against their torso and tickle them.

The Bigger They are the Harder They Fall

Aim for the legs. Can't be tall if your legs are out of the question. You'd need an m-52 chainsaw- oh sorry wrong list. You'll need to latch onto their legs and aim for their thighs, knees, calves and shout TIMBERRRRRRRRRR for comedic purposes.

Piggyback? More like uh... Piggyback

Go on, ask for a piggyback ride. Don't be shy~ Great. They have fallen for your trap. You have access to soooo many tickle spots like the ears, neck, underarms, ribs, sides, back, hips etc. And the best part is, they wouldn't dare hurt lil ole you. There is a rule in Gentle Giant law which states that "no person shorter than us shall be subjected to harm of any kind while in our care". Boom. Can't break the law- So enjoy as your tall person slowly crumples on the floor with you already straddling them, congrats.

I'm the Big Spoon Now

I mean this from the bottom of my heart. Tall people, everywhere, want to be babied. Not necessarily the gugu gaga ooh-la-la want your bad romance, but being cradled as though they were small. Being tall usually means people assume that you're gonna be the bigger spoon. And we say heck no. They've been tall for too long and its gotten to their poor head. Allow them to feel small again and I guarantee they'll love you for life. You just gotta be the big spoon, wrap your arms and legs around them to lull them in a false sense of security. Then boom shackalaka go in for the kill, raspberry that neck, count those ribs, knead those sides, whisper teases in those ticklish ears, go wild. But not too wild.

Stalk Your Prey

This is just a general tip. Most of the time you want to approach from behind and make sure you are crouching as low as possible. Tall people don't like straining their neck muscles too much so you'll be in their blind spot for sure.

⚠Whatever you do, Don't Move⚠

Aw heck. You've been cornered by the very same tall person you wanted to tickle. Have no fear! I have the solution. Stand very very still, science says they cannot sense your presence unless you are moving- Nah I'm kidding, say a quick prayer, manifest some positive vibes or whatever floats your boat because there's no escaping a tall person's wrath. Don't say I didnt warn ya~

[realcube]

hq boys with a short! s/o

characters ♡ tsukishima, ushijima, sakusa & suna 

content warning ♡ cursing & mentions of weight 

kei tsukishima

♡ ofc he’ll tease you for it what do you expect

♡ on the bright side though, he won’t put in too much effort

♡ like he won’t hold things above your head bc that requires too much energy 

♡ but if you tease him or try to correct him, he’ll roll his eyes and be like ‘sorry, i didn’t hear you from all the way up here’ or ‘huh? did the spec of dust say something?’

♡ he just thinks you’re so cute when you’re on the verge of being annoyed bc -contrary to popular believe - he doesn’t get any entertainment from you being genuinely irritated or mad 

♡ also, you’re too short for him to use you as an armrest- like he has to hunch over to rest his elbow on your head and that kinda defeats the purpose 

♡ he won’t pick you up in public tho- sorry

♡ (unless you are intoxicated/actually need him too)

♡ if you ask him to pick you up just for fun, he’ll smirk and avert his gaze, ‘no.’

♡ uGh but plz don’t go and ask someone else to pick you up- 😩😠

♡ if you walk away from him and try approach kageyama/yamaguchi, he’ll grab you by your wrist and yank you back, ‘fine, get on.’

♡ in private though, he carries you more often

♡ he finds amusement in how you gasp and squeal when he sneaks up behind you, slips his arms under yours and picks you up

♡ ALSO - this is before y���all are dating btw - tsukishima is 100000% the sort of guy to be like ‘geez your hands are really fucking small, how do you even get anything done? 🙄’ in hopes that you’ll get pouty and/or defensive and ask him to compare hand sizes

♡ ^ that is how he flirts 

♡ and if you ask him to get something off a high shelf in the supermarket for you, he’ll spare you a glance before saying in a monotone voice, ‘how did you survive before you met me?’

♡ and be sure to keep a close eye on the cart or you’ll end up at the register, loading your item onto the conveyor belt then notice that there is Growmore fertiliser in your trolley 

♡ ‘eh? what is this?’ you quirked a brow, confused as to how such an item ended up in your trolley as you didn’t even go to the gardening isle

♡ tsukishima tried his best to repress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he turned his head to examine the item in your hand, ‘oh, i picked it up. i thought you might need it for..y’know.’

♡ then he gestured to your vertical stance or lack there of 

wakatoshi ushijima 

♡ he unintentionally treats you like a child tbh

♡ like..no matter how strong/powerful you are-

♡ you could literally be able to deadlift more than him yet he’ll still be like ‘:) wow they’re so fragile and delicate, must protecc’

♡ but he still treats you as an equal- if you know what i mean??

♡ bc although he babys you sometimes, he still knows that you are capable of defending yourself and being independent 

♡ also, he doesn’t treat you like that bc he thinks less of you due to your appearance or height, he does it bc it’s just the way he expresses affection and shows that he cares for you 

♡ that’s how he feels most comfortable being soft around you 

♡ anyway, he likes to place his hand on your head when you’re near him, no matter what either of you are doing 🥺

♡ and his hand is v large :o 

♡ if he’s talking to his friend and you’re standing next to him, hand on head >:)

♡ standing in line at the supermarket, hand on head >:)

♡ y’all are watching a movie in the living room, hand on head >:)

♡ you don’t remember where this trend really started but you recall him doing it before he even started dating you

♡ he doesn’t know why he does it either, maybe just bc it kinda reminds him of how petite you are compared to him 

♡ also he places a kiss on the top of your head before you part ways in the morning :3

♡ omg and one time you stood on the couch and surprised him with a kiss on the head and mans MELTED 

♡ ushiwaka.exe stopped working 

kiyoomi sakusa

♡ he..enjoys intimidating you 

♡ like he makes it a point to stand directly in front of you so he has to look down at you and you have to look up at him-

♡ like he really loves to highlight that height difference ✨

♡ also bc he’s above you, his chin is angled pointing straight forwards while his eyes look down at you 

♡ his intention was to look hot and nonchalant but it was really just unnerving for you 

♡ it made his gaze resemble a glare so you thought he hated you for the longest time 

♡ but dw bc he eventually worked up the courage to ask you out-

♡ he doesn’t tease you too often for being short- the most playful thing he’s ever done in regards to your height was that one time he was standing behind you in gym class, waiting patiently for instructions so he started absent-mindedly using the top of your head as a bongo drum

♡ usually he just helps you with tasks

♡like if he’s out shopping with you and you’re looking at something on a high shelf, he’s pretty observant so he’ll notice quickly then grab the item for you 

♡ or he’ll keep a firm grip on your hand in bustling areas so you don’t get swept away by the crowd

♡ he genuinely feels bad for you lol

♡ he complains a lot about you fucking up his settings in your shared car though lmao 

♡ ‘i could’ve crashed (y/n)-’

♡  ‘that’s your fault for not adjusting the rear view mirror’

♡ ‘i wouldn’t have to adjust anything if your tiny little legs could actually reach the pedals- who gave you your licence?’ 

rintarō suna

♡ you are his personal armrest

♡ and his cushion

♡ and his pillow 

♡ he’s been told he’s short for his position so many times that he forgets that he is actually 6″1

♡ like he must think you are the same height as him or sumn bc he treats you as if he weights the exact same as you

♡ when in reality, he crushes you 

♡ he puts most of his weight onto you when he rests his elbows on your head which makes you lose your balance way too often

♡ if you’re sitting on the couch, watching tv or whatever, there is a 99.9% he will approach you and sit on top of you lmao

♡ ‘what we watchin’, babe?’

♡ nothing anymore, since his back has blocked your view of the screen

♡ once you explain to him that he’s so much taller than you and you physically cannot pick him up or carry his weight despite how much you try, he’s pouty for about a week but then he gets over it 

♡ he now tries to embrace your height difference 

♡ he always wears baggy hoodies when he is at yours so there is enough room for both of you in it :)

♡ honestly he’s ready to give you all of his hoodies if you were to ask lol

♡ he just loves seeing how you are basically drowning in the plush fabric and how cozy you look (❤´艸｀❤)

♡ also his favourite position to sit with you in is where he has his legs crossed and you sit in his lap while he has his arms draped over you shoulders (optional: you slide underneath his hoodie)

[wh6res]

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic. 

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane." 

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears. 

"bitch," you mutter under your breath. 

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again. 

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?" 

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway. 

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?" 

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him. 

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath. 

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement. 

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year. 

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her. 

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" 

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living. 

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing." 

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done. 

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way. 

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement. 

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears. 

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend. 

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word. 

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel. 

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode. 

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information. 

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics. 

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve. 

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too. 

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today  —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?" 

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind. 

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head. 

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest. 

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!" 

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys. 

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history." 

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said. 

"do you really want to know why?" 

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart. 

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss. 

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone. 

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment. 

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day. 

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor. 

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down. 

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud. 

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand. 

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't… 

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper. 

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused. 

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going. 

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back. 

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video. 

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers. 

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples. 

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration. 

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin. 

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day. 

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder. 

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp. 

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time. 

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside. 

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home. 

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off. 

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung. 

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him. 

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with. 

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it...  but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you. 

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob. 

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face. 

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

[redoqs]

Hi, not sure if the Dimitrescu sisters are scared of heights but I would like you to do Dimitrescu sisters x brave reader attempting to slide down one of those very tall water slides with a near vertical drop like "Insano" water slide from Brazil.

I’m telling you rn I absolutely will not be riding that shit nope mm mm, I hit the bottom my face gonna be peeled back from the force

Let’s pretend that the daughters are afraid of heights for this ask

Bela is literally about to break your hand from how high off the ground you two are. She hates heights and when I say hate, she LOATHES heights the only reason why she’s up here with you right now is because you promised that you would hold her through the whole thing and make sure she doesn’t get hurt like the good partner you are🥰🥰 alright after waiting in line forever it’s your turn and it turns out yall have to go one at a time. Now Bela is panicking because what the hell you were supposed to hold her?! But it’s too late to climb back down.

“Please let us go down together. She’s about to pass out.”

So the two of you end up sliding down the ride together and you swore you heard your ribs crack from how hard Bela is squeezing you. Your eardrum bursts from how loud shes screaming and even when you hit the bottom shes still screaming. Bro you’ve never seen Bela like this. She finally registers that you’re at the bottom and she thanks everything she can think of for the fact that she’s still alive.

Cassandra is gonna be like “pfft this shit aint scary” knowing damn well that she can barely stand on a chair without screaming. You’re just like “aight bet” and you two get in line. And wait. The further you climb the more scared you can see Cassandra getting. She’s stiff as hell and refusing to look down. You look concerned.

“Babe, you know we don’t have to do this?”

“I got this. It ain’t even that high!”

You’re 14 stories off the ground but whatever. You reach the top and Cass is literally sweating. She took your arm at one point and now her nails have pierced your skin but you remain strong for your baby🥰🥰🥰 you slide down first, promising to meet her at the bottom and you drop, screaming and shit and the noise scared Cass because wtf did you die? Oh now it’s her turn? Okayokayokayokayokay she’s got this she’s got this!!!! She ready and she’s falling. Bro you’ve never heard Cass scream so loud before like you really can hear her from the bottom. She finally slides down and she flailing like kicking and punching you really have to go over there before she kills someone. You go over there and grab her and hug her telling her she’s okay and it’s alright she’s still alive and she’s never been one to really hold on tight but bruh she’s nearly breaking you in half from how hard she’s holding you

Dani is one of those people who will do scary shit even though she knows she’s scared. She saw the Insano slide and was like “yeah! I gotta ride this!”

“Dani, you’re afraid of heights-“

“Yes, that’s true!”

So you’re standing in line, Dani holding your hand and you know this is a bad idea because Dani can’t stand heights at all and yet here she goes, thinking she can handle this? Okay Kick Buttowski🙄 you’re not even ten feet off the ground yet before Dani is nearly hyperventilating. You ask her if she truly wants to do this because you could always climb back down but ole girl is just gonna be like “yeah I’m fine!” Maam, you have sweat falling down your neck but whatever. So you climb higher and higher and higher and Dani is sweating so much like Goddamn but you can’t go back now. You’re next in line. Dani goes first, wanting to get back to the ground and she readies herself. “You ready?” “Yes! Wait no-“ too late, she’s already sliding and screaming and my god she’s loud like she’s never this loud! Okay maybe she can be but not like this! You go down after her, screaming your own head off until you hit the bottom and you don’t find Dani anywhere. Wtf, where did she go? Oh! There she is! She’s just at the nearest trash can, throwing up into it but she’s alive! You have to carry her through the park back to the car since her legs don’t work

[gumnut-logic]

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?!”

He’d done it and he’d done it proper.

“I told you it wasn’t safe. I told you not to go in. But no, you know better.”

Oh, yes, he had done it proper. He hadn’t heard Virgil go off the deep end like this since high school and the time Gordon had decided to not be where he was supposed to be at school pick up and the three hours of terror that followed.

Admittedly, Scott had been just as angry at the time. It was a whole new perspective to be on the receiving end.

“Virg-“

“No, Scott. I’ve had it. You obviously don’t trust my judgment. You think you know better. Well, newsflash, hot shot, you don’t!”

Oh, yes, this was going to go on for some time.

So, he kept his mouth shut. It would be worse if Virgil realised that not only had his jet pack run out of fuel, but it had dropped him from quite a height. Without warning…he must speak to Brains about that. Fortunately, he had rolled down a slope and into an underground lake.

Unfortunately, the slope had been jagged and torn up his uniform somewhat.  There was likely some bruising.

And the lake had been damned cold.

Virgil had been livid by the time he had arrived in Two. Yes, he had told Scott not to go in. Yes, it had been a gamble. But if it had worked, Scott would have been able to locate the cavers much faster than Gordon who was still looking with a second pod while Virgil hunted down their wayward commander.

Of course, Virgil had found him as fast as possible, but the engineer had had the remainder of Two’s flight time and the pod hike down into the massive cave network to stew on the stupidity of his brother.

Scott was forced to agree that he might have a point. But he was not going to apologise. Command decisions were command decisions whether they succeeded or failed. He owed no-one an explanation.

Regardless, he was sat in the back of the pod so far, he may as well be sentenced to the trunk, while Virgil blew steam.

On any other occasion he would have given as good as he got, but to be honest, he wasn’t feeling so great.

The pod itself was clambering up an almost vertical cliff - proof that flying in was far more practical than climbing - and Virgil’s concentration between expletives needed to be focussed. Scott would mention it on the next flat bit.

But then they would be getting out of here soon anyway. Might as well wait until they reached the surface.

He let his head drop back against the seat.

“Scott?” The pod was dangling from an overhang and had stopped moving. Its spots lit up rock inhabited by dangling…things.

He blinked as something flew through the beams.

“Scott? You with me?”

“Huh?”

There was silence a moment, Virgil’s head attempting to turn around and look at him, but failing with an exasperated grunt. “Scott, speak to me.”

“Wh’t do you want me to say?”

His brother grunted and the pod began moving again. This time though, it changed direction and shook harder as if his brother was in a hurry to get somewhere.

Next thing he knew the pod had stopped, the hatch was open, a yellow light was flickering everywhere and a pair of worried brown eyes were glaring at him.

The light vanished, leaving his brother’s helmet lamps to pale him to a ghost creature dressed in deep blue.

“You said you were okay.” It was soft and hurting. The ghost hovering over him just looked sad.

“’M okay.”

“You’re bleeding and suffering from hypothermia. How can you possibly be okay?” It was said quietly, but it cut through him like a knife because with it came disappointment. Virgil turned away and reached for the storage locker below his seat. “I guess I should know better.”

“Virg…” But his brother refused to look at him, even when he folded up the front seat and climbed back in to hunt down exactly where Scott was leaking blood from. Turned out he had cut the back of his leg. Not badly, but bad enough.

The water in his boot was so cold, he hadn’t felt it.

Sure and caring hands removed Scott’s footwear, his helmet, and his baldric was unfastened and tugged off. Virgil, it was Virgil, ever dependable Virgil, was unzipping his uniform, gently pulling him forward and peeling his under shirt off his skin.

He should be helping, but he couldn’t quite pull the energy together.

An emergency blanket appeared and Scott found himself quickly swaddled. A hiss and he was suddenly smelling something warm and chocolatey.

“Scott?”

He discovered his eyes were closed and he forced them open. Virgil was crouched in front of him, holding up a plastic cup of something emanating warmth. He had no hands to take it, but his brother offered it up to him like a baby.

Somewhere in the back of his mind the big brother part of him was outraged and horrified, but he was too busy sipping warmth to care.

A cap was gently tugged onto his head, completely messing up his hair.

Warm fingers brushed the strands out of his eyes.

Virgil was staring at him, so much emotion in that one expression. Exasperation, frustration and worry, but most of all love.

Something inside Scott just melted.

“I’m sorry.” It came out in a rush through a throat that had suddenly grown tight.

Those brown eyes widened and Virgil leant back just a little. His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared for a moment before lowering the safety harness over Scott’s shoulders.

“I need to get you back to Two as fast as possible. Gordon has located the two cavers and is making his way to the main cavern. They report no injuries and once orientated will be climbing out themselves.” His brother unfolded his seat and clicked into position before jumping into it. “You’re the only injury.” The canopy hissed shut and the pod started up, its claws immediately grabbing at rock.

Scott swallowed.

He lost some time after that. The next thing he knew he was in daylight and the pod was stomping over level ground only to be engulfed by the green shadow of Two.

The pod came to a halt and the canopy was thrown open. “Hey, Bro, how you feeling?”

He found enough energy to frown. “I’m fine, Gordon.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that too often if I were you.” He lowered his voice and leant in as if conspiring. “Virgil is pissed.”

“Move, Fish.” Gordon disappeared to be replaced by Virgil. His lips were tight as his eyes examined Scott. “You’re going to ride back in the infirmary and you are not going to complain. After that, you have two days off rescues and if you say anything in protest, I’m reinforcing that medical order via Grandma and her latest interest in exotic soup. You will do what you are told and after a health review we will have a discussion regarding operative safety.”

“Virgil, I’m sorry.”

His brother froze.

“I mean it. You were right and I screwed up.”

Another moment of staring. “I need to get you to the infirmary.”

Scott untangled himself from the blanket and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Virgil, I mean it.”

The engineer looked down at Scott’s bare arm and the hair suddenly standing on end the length of it. A gentle hand reached up and moved his arm back under the blanket. “We’ll get you well, first, then we will discuss this.” His brother’s gazed dipped and for a split second a deep sorrow flickered across his expression.

But only briefly. A blink and Virgil was reaching into the pod and lifting the restraints. “C’mon, let’s warm you up and fix the holes you’ve got in you.”

Scott pushed himself to his feet somewhat wobbly. “Holes? I thought I only had the one injury?”

Clambering over the side of the pod, Virgil caught him and eased him to the ground. “That would be too easy. You, my dear brother, are hard work.” He pulled a hoverstretcher close. “Now make it a touch easier by lying down without arguing.”

“I’m fine, I can walk.”

The growl that echoed off the module bulkheads was positively savage.

Okay, perhaps he should let Virgil have this one. He backed up and sat down on the stretcher.

He was forcibly nudged to lie down and his feet lifted up onto the cushioned surface by a smirking Gordon.

As the stretcher was pulled into motion, his medic brother muttered under his breath.

“So much damned hard work.”

-o-o-o-

[daisydevorak]

I’m skipping ocs but this one has my heart in a fucking vice grip. Meet Arthas! He’s the palace’s handyman and hates people. [More infos + shirtless version under the cut. OH, and he’s a werewolf >:3c]

Full Name: Arthas 'Belladonna' Stewart  Nickname: "Please don't" Age: 32 Birthday: August 26th (Virgo)  Gender/Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: Considers himself a questioning straight man but is still very curious, never bedded another man before but wouldn't be against it.  Race: Human/werewolf Height: 7'0 in human form, 8'0 in werewolf form Physical Description: Arthas is quite the imposing sight atop his 7 feet height, and his icy gaze is quite intimidating when he's staring back at you. His brown hair gets paler towards the tip, shaved hair at the back, wavy rat tail kept shoulder blade length with longer, curly hair at the top. His left arm is completely missing, leaving a large and extremely visible scar behind, with some others around it. One scar adorns the left side of his neck and another one marks his jaw. Arthas is on the heavier side of body hair, but not to the point of being considered a "bear", and he keeps his face well shaved except his chin. His piercings counts a vertical labret, ⅝ inch ear plugs, nose bridge, tongue, septum, nipples and a prince Albert, all surgical steel. He's large, bulky and on the muscular side. His werewolf form is the same color as his hair with a white underbelly and long pointy ears. He still has his piercings and missing arm, but grows to be 8 feet tall and his sclera becomes black.  Personality: Arthas is a lone wolf by choice and preference, values animals' and nature's companionship over human interaction, and when forced to socialize, he comes off as grumpy and unapproachable. He isn't scared to tell you the harsh truth without regrets so you leave him alone and absolutely *despise* being restrained and/or controlled. But Arthas wasn't always like this; younger, he was very popular amongst his friends and family, always being the center of the attention, now he shys away from it at all cost, hermiting himself away from prying eyes. When you get to know him better and he grows fond of you, however, he becomes much softer and kinder, much like when he's with his animals, but this wall is hard to get through and would require a lot of work, effort and patience to win over his temperament. 

Favorite Drink: Freshly sourced water Favorite Food: Deer tenderloins, cooked rare Favorite Flower: Belladonna

Other Bits: Arthas can shift in his werewolf form at will, at any time of the day. When a full moon approaches, he becomes more agitated and impatient but still has full control on himself. His full moon transformation is painful, and once a werewolf (during the full moon) he's a bit more aggressive than normal, but again has total control over himself. He will occasionally get random ghost pain in his left arm, but you'll never guess because he hides his pain and torments very well behind that cold and grumpy mask of his.  Magical Abilities: None Familiar/Pets: A pet rat named Guss and a few other wild animals that keeps him company sometimes.  Patron Arcana: The Hermit Canon LI: -  Voice Claim (Optional): Strix from Paladins

Brief History: Arthas was born and raised in the small village of Sarpor, located next to the larger city Vesuvia. It was a poor little village that focused on hunting and gathering to fend for their needs, the count too selfish to come to their aid both protection wise and monetary wise. For years, Arthas helped take care of his family since his father died at a very young age, leaving him, his siblings and his mother behind. Being the eldest of six and without a father figure, he was the one to take on that role and provide parental care to his brothers Ludwick, Marth and Kurt, and his baby sisters Monika and Gloria, helping his mother with finances by working multiple jobs at the same time. Because of that, Arthas developed skills in many domains, thus making him very popular and respected throughout the village. Everybody knew his name and everyone knew they could count on him. Life was hard and harsh but it was still his prized, tranquil life… Until a werewolf was spotted near the village's outskirts, threatening to attack them. Everything happened too quickly that day; he was working on repairing his neighbor's fence, hammering down nails in the wood, until his left arm was caught as he was swinging the hammer down. Blood started pouring from the werewolf's jaw as it's teeth ripped through his flesh, tearing muscles and tendons away until his arm gave up at the shoulder joint. The beast was, in fact, already deeply wounded by the village's hunters and was ran after by a couple of them, but they couldn't do anything about the attack except trying to kill it as it was chomping down on Arthas' arm, causing it's blood to enter the gaping wound left behind and turn him into a werewolf. Merely a few days later, his scar was already closed because of his new werewolf blood, but this came with a price; every full moon, he transformed in the same creature that attacked him (and survived). First thing he did was to exile himself from his village, reluctantly abandoning his family behind and giving the family's responsibility to the second eldest son, Kurt, but it was for the best. And everyday, he taught himself how to control the beast inside of him, teaching himself how to sync with it, think like it and be one with it. Arthas became a solitary man in the process, a hermit if you will. But even if he wanted to stay alone in the woods, he still had to make a living, he still needed to work, he couldn't leave his jack-of-all-trades skill perish and go to waste. So instead, he decided to become the Palace's handyman even though he despises nobles, keeping himself away from people and working with them only when he needs to. 

Extended History (Optional): TBA