#rolling my blorbo in my mind

[thedolsideblog]

Blythe The Scrapper

^facts abt this guy.......

under the cut bc it gets a Wee long.

Full name : Blythe Gales (Gales is his mother's maiden name. She insist that he keeps that.)

Body/Height : Large (i see him as 185 cm....)

Penis Size : Large.....im not gonna put exact measurements bc i am no Penis Expert but you can imagine it.....

Jobs : Cycles between a bartender (perfect place to get new info), selling at the stall, and stealing. does stealing a lot more.

Personality : Defiant but in a silent lowkey sort of way. Glares at you and stomps your feet really hard sort of way. He's soft around people he likes, which isn't a lot.....

"okay whats up with the tail" he just has that. since birth. sometimes its there sometimes its not. the effect he gets is that hes more horny that the average joe

he wears his beanie all the time, except summer. its kinda iconic to him.

the dark pendant is what's left of his mother.

hes addicted to lollipops, it weirdly makes him focus more. the benefits is that he taste really sweet when you kiss him, if youre into that.

as a pc, his sole goal is to somehow escape the town with robin. while he is amicable with some of the named npcs, he puts robin in a weird, unhealthy pedestal.

as a li, hes the "bad boy" love interest. his morals all over the place, with placing you as top priority if you romance him (eh? see what im putting down? wink wink nudge nudge?). hes more than willing to steal things for you, and the most consistent stopper of whitney's bullying. he always has his hand somewhere on your body, always. its very easy to indulge him, really.

his fame stat is really funny.

[necrotic-nephilim]

@profandomhopper i was going to reblog the original post this comment was left on but i felt it divorced itself from the original topic so much, you get your own post for giving me delightful permission to ramble about this. buckle in people this is long.

so, DC is a big fandom that expanses a lot of different types of content, and like anything, is subject to crossovers. the obvious ones like Marvel are for the reason of being a similar and equally popular superhero world, so it's easy to transpose the worlds onto each other and overlap the characters. both of these worlds deal with multiverses and endless, endless heroes. it makes sense and there's no real stretch to think Batman and Spider-Man could co-exist. i mean, there have been canon crossover comics. and even some more random crossovers like White Collar have pretty easy to trace origins, being an actor in WC was a popular Dick fancast back in the day so there was some bleeding over that led to a well-loved niche crossover space.

but Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug are where it gets interesting. because at a surface, MLB sort of makes sense. it's a superhero world, you're following a teen girl superhero and sure the mechanics are pretty contained, but the crossover should make sense. but when you compare it to the crossover numbers of other superhero media like say My Hero Academia, Ladybug takes the *crown* with such a bizarre popularity. and of course, DP feels like it makes even less sense. sure, you *could* lump it into at the very least, superhero-adjacent media, but it's not a true hero world like MLB or DC is.

but, the thing to always understand about DC, *especially* the Batfamily (which is where the crossover content propagates the most) is this: a *very* good chunk of fans don't interact with the comics. i would venture to say even most Batfamily fans don't read the comics and actively talk about it. we've all read a very fandom big Batfam fanfic where the author's note mentions the writer has never touched a comic in their life. typically, these fans are either cobbling together their understanding from fandom content, or by frankensteining unrelated DC adaptations to understand each character. you take Bruce from Batman: TAS, you take Dick from the animated Young Justice, you take Jason from Batman: Under The Red Hood animated movie, you take Damian from the DCAMU Batman vs Robin, and you read some fandom metas to fill in the rest and well, you've got some sort of an understanding of these characters. read enough incorrect quotes, some genfic, a couple of character metas, and boom, you understand the Batfamily fandom enough to start creating your own content. and of course now. now you have Wayne Family Adventures so it's even *easier*. a pretty easy to pick up webtoon that's filling in all the gaps for you. but i've been in this fandom long enough to remember before we had WFA and even then, this was still a common, if not the most popular way, to ween yourself into the DC fandom space. you cherry-picked the canon you liked and then plunged into the depths of fanon.

i'm not here to make in depth commentary on if i think this is a good or bad thing. trust me i have that commentary in my head, but that would need it's own post. i'm very split on it and my feelings are complicated. my feelings on WFA are even *more* complicated. because oftentimes, the attitude expressed by these fans who are frankensteining this version of the Batfamily/DC world they have in their head is they don't *want* to read the comics. the comics don't contain the content they're after. and to an extent, i understand that. if you're looking for light-hearted vibes of the Batfamily all getting along and having the occasional hurt/comfort moments but in the end, they hug and make up, you're right. largely, you won't find that in canon. of course there are so many comics to recommend for Batfamily interactions, but you have to get specific. you'll find them interacting in small groups, Tim and Dick bonding here, Duke and Cass bonding there, but largely, the comics don't care to balance the ridiculously large cast they've given themselves. but fandom does. it's easy to toss them all in a blender and ignore the parts you don't like. the default argument to ignoring the comics or writing something OOC is always "well the comics are OOC and inconsistent too" which, while a flawed argument that massively misunderstand how comics work as a medium, isn't an entirely incorrect one. you could serve on a silver platter to these fans, an easy and accessible way to get into comics and they wouldn't be interested. it's not what they're here for. fandom is always character-driven above all else. it's driven by character relationships and dynamics. if someone wants to consume content where Tim idolized and stalked Jason as 'his Robin' and now is trying to help him rehabilitate and they're super complicated but have this long epic forgiveness arc, why *would* they read the comics? because they're sure as shit not going to find that dynamic in the comics. it's laughably OOC and not canon at all, but that doesn't matter. what matters is the sandbox. most Batfamily fans care *far* more about the sandbox canon gives them than the actual canon itself. feel how you feel about that, this really isn't being negative toward that attitude, but it is a common attitude.

so, you have Batfamily fans playing in the sandbox and building their own narrative. common fandom headcanons are so common, you could practically write a guide on how the fanon Batfamily works with how consistent people are about it. or you could just read WFA, which is practically the new manifesto of it. even now, with this sudden spike in people talking about canon accuracy and "actually this happening in the comics", they don't actually care about the comics, just what they can cherry-pick for fodder. (even if they rob it of so much context they're just as OOC as they were before. see specifically: the recent phenomena with Tim Drake going from the woobified weakest member of the Batfam who everyone needs to save constantly and he's the smart boy but he's also the one with a sad tragic neglectful past who gets overlooked being the way Batfamily fandom played with Tim for years. but recently, people seem to be pushing this idea of a ridiculously badass Tim, Tim who *totally* has a kill count because of his actions in RR (2009) if you take them completely out of context, Tim who bested Ra's and is even more badass than Jason and he's the 17 yr old CEO of Wayne Industries being cool and flawless it becoming the new fandom zeitgeist. neither of these versions of Tim are canon, and the second fundamentally misunderstands his arc in RR (2009) but the shift has undeniably happened and it's been fascinating to watch. the same thing happened with people suddenly deciding Jason isn't the "angry violent Robin", he was a sunshine sweet boy who was perfect as Robin. neither of these are true, but the second feels more transgressive and new to fandom from cherry-picked panels.) the point is largely, Batfamily fans would rather build their own canon than play with the actual canon.

and then, you have Danny Phantom. i'm not into DP and have no interest to get into it, but what i know about it via fandom osmosis is this: DP fans sort of also don't give a fuck about canon. once again, the canon of DP is a sandbox, not a rulebook. the concepts and the characters are the draw, not the plot itself. i've seen DP posts explaining characters who are essentially OCs, but have become so dominant in the fandom via fandom osmosis. there are concepts and ideas about how Danny's powers work and potential concepts with his ghost nature that either aren't in canon or only happened once in canon and fans decided to expand on that and doesn't care about it's own in-universe logic. i've seen a lot of DP fans also express they haven't seen the show and they don't have plans to see the show. because the show is just some children's cartoon with some inconsistencies and a simple plot, as you'd expect from CN. the show isn't the point. no one cares about it's plot, they care about it's characters. they care about pushing the concept of half ghost boy to a logical extreme and seeing what you can get out of that. can you make it weird and fucked up. how much can you highlight on his trauma and body horror. what identity crisis can you give him and how can you build his interactions with other characters in his world around that and also make those characters fun and unique on their own. sure, the skeleton of canon is there, but the meat lies all in the fanon.

Miraculous Ladybug also exists in this similar vein. the characters, the concepts, those hold intrigue. and not even mentioning the fact the original concept for this show was supposed to be aimed to an older audience, so you can see the bones of something a bit more mature and nuanced under this typical, villain of the week magical girl transformation show. the show itself is a bit shallow and that's not a *bad* thing, it's just the medium it exists within being aimed towards children. but the concepts of a teen girl who's basically a sort of chosen one, a boy who doesn't know his father is the big bad of the show, and their weird identity porn love... square thing. those dynamics are *so* complicated and such a fun sandbox to play in with character-driven fandom.

so, at the core, you have three fandoms that care more about the culturally accepted fanon than the canon, with a good chunk of people often not even consuming the original canon content. and well, DC is an *easy* world to transpose just about anything onto. a boy who's half ghost and fighting supernatural threats? that makes sense, DC has ghost heroes like Deadman already. a girl who has this magical item that gives her animal themed superpowers? i mean that's practically the same thing as Vixen's Totem so that one makes sense too. they fit in pretty easy, no needing to change the world to accommodate them. and of course, if you're a fan of *one* fandom where you don't care for the canon content and only like the fandom sandbox, chances are, you'll get drawn in pretty easily to another fandom with similar mechanics. if you can teach yourself the DP fandom rules/concepts, you can teach yourself the Batfamily fandom rules/concepts. and well, since there's so much crossover in fandom members, why not write the fanfiction? crossover fics will always exist, but with such a shared member base, you have a really big boom.

it's why the characters you see DP interact with in DC are *always* characters who are far more driven by fanon than canon. Danny and John Constantine is a *massive* concept. for people who don't read Hellblazer comics. my poor partner, @divine-dominion has lamented to me pretty often about finding DP content in the Hellblazer tag that is essentially turning Constantine into an OC. because whatever version of Constantine is being written about isn't one bit comics accurate, and really, isn't trying to be. and the same thing happens with Shazam. you watch Young Justice and understand him well enough, you get drawn in by the character concept that you just run with it. people put their favorite blorbos in the same place because hey, wouldn't ghost boy be pretty cool in a city like *Gotham*. how would Batman even react to him. and then, the shipping. because ages for the Batfamily can be easily hand-waved and moved around based on where you plop Danny into the timeline, you have your pick of the litter with him, and same with Ladybug. of course there are the most popular ships but largely, the world is your oyster.

i don't think this is the worst thing in the world for either fandom. it's not hard to filter out the crossover tags and scroll past content i don't like. and sure, i see the appeal of making your blorbos from two different places meet. i've got my drafts *full* of DC/MHA crossover ideas because well, i like them both and think that would be cool. i think my only gripe with it is when DP or MLB crossover content seeps it's way into the wrong tags. using the above example, if you're writing about Danny and Constantine but there's zero content of the actual Hellblazer comics, i don't think you need the Hellblazer tag, just the Constantine character tag. tbh i wish this extended onto Ao3 and people utilized fandom tags better. if you're writing Batfamily fanfiction that is very clearly and obviously WFA driven in characterization and concepts, i would far prefer those fics be tagged with the WFA fandom tag rather than the Batman (comics) fandom tag. because well, you're not writing about the Batman comics. and there's nothing wrong with that, but it helps if you don't confuse yourself for content striving to interact with canon more. (this especially extends to Young Justice, by the way. if you're writing for the Young Justice tv show please, please stop using the Young Justice (comics) fandom tag. i'm at my wit's end- /lh)

the whole thing is fascinating. i've got zero interest in entering DP or MLB as fandoms because that's not my speed, but witnessing it as an outsider is my favorite pastime. i see a *lot* of posts going around the DC x DP space that are helping explain to people who's who, what's what, and understanding the canon/fanon of both of these properties so others can better enter the space. which is not something you'd need in a fandom driven only by it's canon content, but it is sweet watching others try to help newbies enter the space. it's a very inviting fandom space, i think, whether you lament it's existence or not. they're just sitting in their corner with their blorbos, and i gotta respect that. the posts explaining the Batfamily to DP fans are always fun for me to read, even if i disagree with some of the characterizations in them because it helps shine a light on what the fans of this crossover regard as "important" enough about each fandom to be worth including those sorts of primers. very fascinating stuff.

[starship-squalleater]

Thinking about how disgusted Spock is with himself in All Our Yesterdays for eating meat and enjoying it, even though it was a survival situation…. And thinking about that fucking bacon scene in Strange New Worlds

[frosty-tian]

“You don’t understand, I need Graham and Boulder to kiss then have little electric sparks n’ steam to fly off of Boulder. Then Graham, no no, them both, to giggle like awkward school girlies. In this essay I will-!”

[bitegore]

every so often i have to really wonder about the people who watch me talk about how badly i want someone to let me hurt them and fantasize about murdering imaginary characters i like and somehow assumes i'm a sub primarily and wants to be killed and chased and not, like, do the killing and chasing

[ayakashibackstreet]

omg Angus birthday in less than 5 minutes.......

[wp100]

so we've had "cinnamon roll" and "poor little meow meow"

what is the secret third thing that's in-between?

[tiefslinger]

📜 * out. ‣ i'm not sorry for tipperposting‚ it will happen again.

📜 * in. ‣ the curtain rises.

📜 * inbox. ‣ once upon a time.

📜 * answered. ‣ it's the end of 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 story‚ 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 story.

📜 * face. ‣ a girl is a gun.

📜 * dash. ‣ i am currently in situations.

📜 * crack. ‣ i roll to cast gun.

📜 * aesthetics. ‣ i kneel into a dream where i am good and loved.

📜 * character. ‣ there will be goodbyes by dozens so practice by being brave.

📜 * worldbuilding. ‣ shoutout to blorbo from my mind.

📜 * creations. ‣ scoutlight‚ scoutkeep‚ scoutboss.

📜 * promotions. ‣ it's the crossover episode!

📜 * wishlist. ‣ campaign module.

📜 * connections. ‣ nobody is ever truly alone.

📜 * calls. ‣ roll initiative.

📜 * closet. ‣ armor class.

📜 * audio. ‣ can’t i have just one more song?

📜 * blog updates. ‣ god help us all.

📜 * saved. ‣ live tipper reaction.

[junipaca]

ahhhh my days of being a c!phil defender to a q!forever defender. what a transition.

[blujayonthewing]

WIN: unbuttoned men's linen henley sleeves rolled to the elbows not necessarily looking especially masc on cis woman but extremely looking exactly as good on her as she'd hoped, likely to form staple of wardrobe going forward

tragedy: long ponytail and ladies' dangly earrings not looking very masc on cis woman

[cyberrose2001]

Hi hi! Your op drawings are so good?? My bby aaa drawing him (bots in gen) is so tough, I get too caught up in the details TT

Anyway, since I miss him lol I was wondering if I could request some... uh, gosh I hate this word but idk anything synonymous. Could I request pussydrunk tfp op?

Hope you're having a nice day/night btw <3

- 🍄

TFP pussydrunk!Optimus x reader

Hi hello!!I am very proud of this and it's probably up there with my list of my favourite fics I have ever written. Thank you so much for requesting and liking my silly sketches of the blorbo. I've written this as gender neutral <3

(lowkey ive been writing heaps of OP eating pussy,,, its a canon event for me i cannot intervene..... anyway its 11AM and i havent slept yet but i needed to finish hggggh *dies of horny*)

Warnings: Oral sex (reader receiving), edging, reader has a vagina.

Word count: 657

18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI

Spending time alone with you has learned to be one of Optimus' most treasured past times. But as much as it pains him, relaxing with you is a rare treat. The usual business of the base either keeps him up all night, or he genuinely has no time. However, he tries his best to make the most of it, whether he's relaxing with you, cuddling you, or with his head glued between your inner thighs. 

Like right now. It was nearing two AM. Optimus has you sprawled out on your shared berth, his face pressed against your aching heat, finally finding sweet relief from his built-up arousal. It's been too fragging long since his face was buried in you. He misses it, and if Optimus had a choice, he would sacrifice everything he's worked for to keep you bare before him.

Two hours. Optimus had been lazily lapping at you for two hours now. At one point, his helm had lulled to the side to rest against your right inner thigh to not strain his neck. His glossa grows tired, and his energon roars through his hot frame.

His stamina is almost depleted compared to when he initially delved into your drenched pussy. Despite this, Optimus still has the capacity to tightly grip your hips, gently massaging them as you lie still for him. He is weary, yet he perseveres, ignoring his aching joints and pulsing spike painfully pressed against the berth because tonight is about you. He will make up for all those lonely nights you've spent in berth alone in one lengthy oral session.

It's very often that when Optimus gives you oral, his mind feels like he's been transported to a higher plane of existence, one where he has no responsibilities or obligations to lead a team, just the mind-numbing taste of you. It makes him dizzy and light-headed, similar to the buzz he gets when he has a high grade or two, but Optimus prefers revelling in you instead to get his high. 

As ever patient as you are with your star-crossed lover, your hips still gently roll and shudder involuntarily against his glossa, and Optimus fucking loves it. He loves your soft cries when he sucks on your clit, and he loves when you clamp your legs around his helm when your orgasm is merely within reach. But he won't let you finish just yet, not when he's yet to relish and thoroughly drown himself in your sticky sweet.  

His warm optics remain lazily trained on your face, only fluttering close when you squeeze his helm. The pressure from your thighs only heightens his hunger, a carnal desire to swallow every drop of your aphrodisiac juices. 

"Mmmmm," You mewl, sweaty palms digging into the berth, "Fuck, I missed this… why don't we do this - aah - more often, baby…."

Optimus doesn't respond, and he can't because his processor is so intoxicated and aroused that he can't even form a single coherent sentence. It's quite ironic, he thinks. A mech of his nature that is so poised and articulate in his vocable is conned by his own desperate need to surrender his intake to his humans' essence.

"Mmmffh," He purrs into your heat, parting your sensitive lips with his glossa, lazily swirling around your bud before pressing a gentle kiss against it. He can't help but grind his spike into the berth below at your whimpers, servos kneading into your soft flesh, "More… Primus, I need more…."

You titter breathlessly, snaking a hand to the top of his helm to lightly press his face further into your pulsing heat, and Optimus delightfully grunts. You shiver, biting back a moan at the vibrations, "Go ahead, hun, you've got me for the rest of the night."

Optimus may need to blow a hole into the sun to prevent it from rising, since one night will never be enough to satisfy his thirst for you.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So... I lied about getting a full fix-it to This → Part 1. Y'all get parts focusing on different characters for now as Hop traverses his guilt trip. I won't say it gets worse before it gets better but... kinda in places? I promise it's a happy ending though!!

What do you want from me I'm stressed and depressed and I like making my blorbos suffer (a.k.a projecting my trauma instead of doing the healthy shit my shrink tells me to)

You've been warned... But I do hope you like it.

So here we have Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition)

He goes to Joyce about it first. Thinks about her gentle herding of the trio that has become the Hopper-Byers brood. Thinks about how she put everything he was feeling about Mike and El and their giggling and the fucking door into words that kept him from looking like an imbecile (if he'd have ever used them instead of fucking it up 'winging it'). Thinks about the way her voice stays soft and kind of quiet even when she's spitting in his face about listening to her (and every time she's been right) and how that's translated to talking down government goons and wrangling the army of children that seems to get bigger each time they have to fight interdimensional terrors. So he goes to Joyce about what Murray said, the noise Steve made with That Look in his eyes and his bandages peeking out from under a shirt that looks like one of the Henleys he's been missing since coming 'back from the dead' and they dug out his clothes from storage. (El wouldn't let her throw anything out, not until she was ready to say goodbye. Thank whatever god[s] there may be she never needed to)

He doesn't expect Joyce to make a face like he suggested inviting Owens to family dinner. He doesn't expect the scoff and eye roll as her shoulders tense and her hands flex at her sides like she's about to let loose her (honestly really attractive) righteous fury. About the Harrington kid.

Maybe he should have asked when the kids weren't home. Before El quietly told them the bullying wasn't as bad as it was in California but some people still made fun of how she spoke and how all of her friends were boys (and just as quietly asked they not do anything. Asked that they let her and The Party handle it until they couldn't). Before Will came home sulking about something idiotic Mike said or did or something the kid missed (though lately the latest Wheeler mistake is followed by bashful mention of the Emerson kid doing something specifically to make Will feel better in the moment). Before Jonathan came home from 'job hunting' or 'volunteering at the school's relief center' reeking of weed and his long-haired friend in tow (less than usual but still enough to make Joyce feel guilty for missing it for so long, for making the boy grow up so fast that he spends his days out of his mind instead of the weekend bender like when they were kids). Before The Party had come by with what homework the school was still giving out and talking over each other about all the latest small-town gossip a teenager can get their hands on (Eddie's name has been cleared but he's still laid up at the hospital. Susan Mayfield has been noticeably absent according to every nosy housewife in Hawkins considering her daughter is in a coma. The Hagans, Carvers, Perkins and a handful of other 'well to do' families have skipped town taking most of the sports population with them. Steve has been letting people displaced by the damage crash at the Harrington mansion. Steve has kept up hours at Family Video somehow and is a regular volunteer at the various relief centers in town. Steve has been giving all of them rides and may have told Dustin he's thinking of trading in the Beemer for a bigger vehicle for all the kids and people he chauffeurs about. Steve keeps a room empty and waiting for when Max wakes up before her mother makes an appearance. Steve. Steve. Steve.)

He doesn't expect the way she spits his name like she's talking about Dick and Margaret under the bleachers over a smoke before the yard teacher catches them. The rant about bullies and broken cameras and trashed kitchens and dead monsters in her fridge. The crack in her voice when she crosses her arms to stop their shaking as she lays sin upon sin at this boy's feet.

And maybe before that would have been enough.

He doesn't expect the stone in his stomach or the burning in his chest as he looks the woman he loves in the eye and says "So I guess we should tell Nancy to break up with Jonathan before he pulls a Lonnie, huh?" It's a low blow. He knows from the hurt anger on her face and on the purse of her lips. He knows that's why he said it. "That kid is lucky to be alive let alone walking and have we ever even thanked him for keeping the fucking kids alive each time they pull their dumb shit when the world goes to hell? Does that sound like anything his folks would have ever done for us? Hell for their own fucking kid they practically signed over to ME of all people?"

He's shaking now too and Joyce has her hands fluttering between them like she wants to reach out. To touch, comfort. Pull him close and tell him to take a breath.

"He called me 'His Hop', Joyce" He barely has enough breath on him to squeeze the words past his tight throat. "Called me His Hop and watched Ellie and the kids when I just couldn't and you were at work. I don't think I've seen his folks in town since the mall was opened and all the donors had that big party. Don't think I've spoken to them since '83 and they made me the kid's guardian when they aren't around cause they didn't want to fly down for a government sized concussion."

By now he knows El and Will are peeking around the corner, their eyes wide and worried. Jonathan has his door cracked and Angus (is that the hippie's name? He can't remember) is whispering something about heavy auras. Joyce is staring somewhere off in the distance, wringing her hands and biting her lips like she's facing an interdimensional portal shaped problem.

"The kids are planning to have one of their games in a few days." Her voice is brittle in a way he's not used to anymore. Not since she pulled her youngest out of hell and faced down a demon clawing through her walls. "He always drives them over and- and disappears until they need to head home. I can make sure he stays for dinner. Like the rest of the kids. I know Claudia has been having him over so I- I can get some recipes from her that he likes."

Something in his shoulders shakes loose and he reaches out to pull her practically shaking from into his chest.

"I don't know what to say to him Hop. He's not Mike and he's not like either of my boys. In my head he's just always been..."

"Dick and Margaret's brat." He sighs out and rests his cheek on the top of her head as she nods and presses herself in closer.

He's aware of eyes on them. Confused and worried and judgemental and he'll pay that piper next. These kids taught him how to be a dad again once, they can do it again, right?

Part 3

Part 4.1

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth

Part 4.2

Part 5

If I missed you in the tag list I'm sorry I tried 🙃🫡 Tell me what you think? 🫣🥲

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: BECAUSE DADDY'S HOME! I am so, so so so so happy he’s back. Extremely proud of our blorbo. My heart is fulllll. Also pls note that Latibule and Elysian’s timeline is happening simultaneously 😁

Masterlist, Part V of __

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Jung Hoseok asked as he watched incredulously his brother, Kim Seokjin, ‘fought’ with Taehyung.

Or rather, as he watched him willingly got beaten up by the younger man. This was a rather peculiar event as their oldest hyung was rarely seen to be in this state. He always thought he was above petty brawls even when the maknaes begged the mafia prince to spar with them. They knew how good he was, if not the best among them. He had rigorous trainings since he learned how to walk. In fact, they witnessed how good he was, but Kim Seokjin was never one to brag about his skills. On the other hand, he always took pride on how he looked, never one to be seen with even a strand of hair out of place. His clothes were never seen with any crease at all that one would think he didn’t move throughout the day. It was so ridiculous that his pairs of sleepwear were of the highest quality. You’d never catch this man slipping.

See, one would think that he was truly a prince because of the standard he held himself in.

But now, he was not even pretending to put up a fight even as Taehyung landed blows after blows until the younger man hesitated. Even someone as emotionless as him knew something was wrong which proved just how peculiar their hyung was acting. Had he been in his right mind, he wouldn’t even let Taehyung’s fist near his ‘glorious’ and ‘worldwide handsome’ face. Well, his words and not theirs.

Hoseok and Namjoon, on the other hand, knew for certain that should Seokjin wanted to fight, he could do so. After all, they witnessed firsthand the unhinged and dangerous version of their hyung before he decided that he would rather pamper his skin with expensive creams and serums than the stark blood of his enemies, and well sometimes, even friends.

“Hyuuuung!” Taehyung finally snapped, pouting at Seokjin who had blood dripping from the open gash on his forehead. “You agreed!”

Seokjin rolled his eyes as he wiped the blood on his plump lips. “Did I? Because I vividly remember that you asked me to spar and I didn’t say anything.”

“You stood up and went in the ring with me!” Taehyung snapped back, his eyes wide before looking at his brothers as though to point out how ridiculous Seokjin was being.

Namjoon quietly chuckled at the scene in front of him. They were gathered somewhere in an unnamed basement building and two of his brothers were sparring as the four other brothers keenly watched as though this was the most interesting thing in their life. If anyone saw these six distinguished men in their respective fields acting like this, Namjoon thought that they wouldn’t even believe their own eyes. Heck, this dark basement had two distinguished police officers, the top doctor in the country, actor who won the most prestigious awards, a tech genius with numerous connections with the world leaders, and yours truly, the best attorney in the country that had a stellar case win rate and was constantly being asked by political groups to join them. They were just missing the chief of police, Min Yoongi. They still couldn’t reach him since last week.

They were used to him vanishing like that, but Namjoon’s senses told him that this time it was different. His eyes shifted to the smiling man next to him, his phone capturing the scene like he was always fond of doing. He couldn’t help but noticed the slight limp he was sporting when he walked in. His draconic eyes shifted to the faint bruises in his knuckles which he claimed were all from training.

“Right, Joonie?” Hoseok suddenly turned to him, his pleasant smile ever present on his face.

“What?” he blinked, suddenly dawning on him that everyone’s attention was on him.

“Where are you? Is Namjoon in the room with us?” Hoseok kidded before playfully bumping his shoulder. “I said, hyung didn’t explicitly give his consent to the sparring. Taehyung was wrong-“

“Hyuuuung!” Taehyung stomped his foot in indignation, acting like the baby they knew he was.

Jungkook chuckled as Tae’s statement, thoroughly enjoying the scene. “You hit Jin hyung without his consent. Tsk tsk.”

“But he went in the ring and stood there! Taetae is not wrong,” Jimin defended his agemate before letting his Slytherin ways that had always thrived in chaos won. “But then again, Taehyung, how can you hit that face? Come on, man, that’s just wrong.”

And chaos ensued as all five of them spoke over one another while the subject of the chaos was emotionlessly wiping the blood on his face with his towel he probably imported from Japan. He didn’t care of the chaos brought by his nonchalance in the violence, taking his sweet time to gulp water from his bottle as though nothing bothered him, as though the wounds and forming bruises on his body didn’t hurt.

“Fine, fine!” Taehyung relented, raising both his hands to stop the verbal assaults being thrown from both sides. “But why did he let me hit him so many times?! He could have stopped me! Hell, he could take all of us if he wanted to!”

“That makes sense,” Jungkook agreed, nodding his head before turning his doe eyes to his hyung who was now silently looking at his phone. “If noona sees you like this, she won’t like you anymore.”

“She already doesn’t like me.”

That was the first time he opened his mouth that night after brooding in the basement for so long and spreading his dark energy. Even Jungkook who was always found to be sitting next to him in any occasion opted to sit on the other side of the room.

“Who’s she?” Namjoon asked, his brows pinched together from confusion and curiosity. Girl? Hyung was with a girl when he didn’t even look at them before because, as he quoted, ‘why bother when his visual was better that theirs?’

“You know? The girl I posted in my Instagram story with hyung?”

At Namjoon’s blank stare, Jungkook exploded. “You still hadn’t followed me back?! The audacity, Attorney Kim! Until now, I’m still stuck as a liker and commenter on all your posts! All you follow is your secretary and all you post is her son and her! And plants! It’s like I don’t matter to you-”

“Okay, so who’s she?”

Jungkook blinked, “She’s a doctor in hyung’s hospital. She’s kind and pretty, and she likes Taylor Swift, and she bought me samgyupsal. And you!”

He pointed at his Jin hyung with accusation in his eyes. He squinted his doe eyes at him before sauntering near to him. “What did you do?”

Seokjin lifted his dark eyes on him before putting down his phone. “Why do automatically think it’s something I did?”

“Noona literally had heart in her eyes when she looked at you! And am I wrong? Was it not your fault?”

His silence was enough to confirm Jungkook’s accusation. He scoffed as he straightened up and thought to himself that somehow, in a room full of intelligent and capable men, he was surrounded by idiots.

“Fix it or else I’ll give the engineer in my office her name. He’s been pestering me to introduce noona to him ever since he saw her on my Instagram and I might just give it to him-“

“What’s his name?!” Seokjin cut him off, suddenly standing to his full height and with so much force that the chair he was sitting on fell back to the ground.

“No!”

“Get back here and give me his name!”

“I’m leaving!”

“Jeon Jungkook, you get back here right now! Where does he live?!”

-

Had you been an outsider to all this fiasco, then you would surely feel sorry for he-who-shall-not-be-named aka Voldemort aka Kim Seokjin. Had you been an outsider to this situation, then you would surely find this all funny.

But you weren’t. You were, in fact, in the middle of it all.

You decided the moment you went home after he slandered your name, belittled you, and short-of shouted at everyone that he would never fall for you because you didn’t pass his taste. In fact, and you quoted, you were ‘so below him’ and you weren’t the same stature as him that he was embarrassed for someone to even think that he felt something for you.

What a dramatic person, you thought. Why would you be hurt over a crush? Why would you even cry over it?

You sat with your feelings that weekend. You thought and thought hard enough to know that the reason why you bawled your eyes out the moment you exited that coffee shop and why you lost your appetite and stayed in bed was because all he said was the truth.

Were you beneath him in stature? Check.

Was his taste in women beyond you? Check.

Were you below him? Check.

Did he only entertain you because you were funny? Damn right you were. You were hilarious as fuck.

But still, you called in sick for work after weekend passed. You were still hurt and quite frankly, too embarrassed to even see him or any people from the hospital that knew how hard you were chasing him. You sat with your feelings long enough to realize that just because some guy, no matter how perfect he was in the outside, didn’t like you back did not mean that it was the end of the world. Your mother did not raise a weak woman. Well, she really didn’t raise you, but anyway!

You decided to do exactly what you did best.

Avoidance.

According to an article written by Lebow in 2022, somatic avoidance refers to steering clear from situation that elicit a physical response similar to anxiety or stress response. Right now, you were actively avoiding your greatest stress in life. So when you met his eyes as you walked to the entrance of the hospital, you pretended to not see him. You continued as though nothing was amiss, as though seeing him after hiding and housing your pain for days did not affect you in any way. You weren’t blind, though. You couldn’t help but notice how exhausted he looked. You couldn’t help but notice a faint bruise on his otherwise perfect face. You felt the gnawing curiosity forming in your mind as to how he got that when you thought that he was someone who would never get into a fight. Foolishly, you thought that he was someone who would rather resolve issues in a calm and civil manner than inflict pain on other people.

“Y/N, wait-”

You continued walking and like the asshole that he was, he didn’t take the hint that you didn’t wish to speak to him, nor hear whatever he had to say. He had embarrassed you enough to last a lifetime. The distance you placed between the two of you were rapidly closed by his long legs. If he noticed how you were almost running to the elevator to escape him, he didn’t say anything. By some miracle, you lost him as the lobby was now bustling with patients, visitors, and employees alike. You greeted your colleague as you entered the elevator. She was making small talk about what happened during your absence, yet you were too distracted to engage. Instead. you repeatedly pushed the close button, which she frowned at.

“Hey, what’s the rush?” she asked as she watched you act peculiarly.

“Just…you know. Running late.”

“Honey, it’s 6 in the morning.”

The doors were finally starting to close, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You knew it was too soon to celebrate when the door barely closed because just as the gap was about to disappear completely, a hand shot through, triggering the sensor and causing the doors to slide back open. Your stomach dropped as he stepped into the elevator, his eyes locking onto yours. The small, enclosed space suddenly felt suffocating.

Kim Seokjin stared into your eyes as he entered. His dark eyes held yours hostage even as you scooched to the left side of the lift. He sighed, merely nodding at the greeting of your coworker. His broad shoulders made the lift seemed small when it was anything but.

It was three floors later, and yes, you counted. You’d honestly rather watched the elevator screen than turned to him as he blatantly looked at you.

“Doctor Y/N–“ He started, almost making you jump when he broke the silence.

“Oh my God, what’s that?” you turned to your colleague, and now, a victim of your pettiness.

“What?” she frowned, sensing the tension between the two of you and wanting nothing but to get off the lift.

“I just felt chills in my right side,” you answered, rubbing your arms because fuck it, you were going to show him how good you could act. You didn’t join the theatre when you were in high school for the fun of it! Nope, it was just that you had always been dramatic and you thought it would be a waste of God-given talents, really.

She lifted her eyes sheepishly at the doctor that held the highest position in the hospital who only had eyes on you. “Y/N, that’s Doctor Ki-“

“Like a disturbed ghost. Very scary,” you shuddered exaggeratedly before clasping your hands and murmuring a short prayer. “I hope he finds peace. Or not.”

Seokjin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing slightly. Your colleague glanced between the two of you, clearly uncomfortable and unsure of what to say.

The elevator dinged again, the doors sliding open, and you took the opportunity to escape the ghost of your past aka Voldemort. Fuck it, you thought. You’d rather walked five flights of stairs than stay another second with that man. Honestly.

You thought that was the end of it. You wished it was the end of it and you couldn’t be more wrong.

It was late at night when you finally finished your work. Your back was killing you, and you felt like another cup of coffee wouldn’t wake you up but rather send you to an early death. You were definitely not looking forward to your commute back to your apartment. Regardless of the weariness you felt, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied with the work you did today. You thought that you lucked out on the career path you chose because you were able to help people heal where it was the hardest to heal in.

But heavens, you just wished this job paid better.

You sighed as you exited the hospital, and you sighed even deeper when someone stepped in front of you. You knew before you even lifted your eyes who it was. The polished shoes and the obviously expensive suit were enough telltale signs that you were once again in front of him and that he was once again going to bother you.

“Are you going home?”

You looked directly at him for the first time since that day. And damn it! He looked good, you hated it. You tilted your head to the side when he smiled at you. “Come on. It’s late. I’ll drive you home.” He pointed at his expensive white car that was conveniently parked in front of the entrance, a clear violation of the hospital premises rules. But who were you to talk, anyway. He was the damned owner, and he could do whatever he wanted, apparently.

You scoffed as you walked away from him, spotting a taxi that just dropped off a passenger in front of the hospital. You’d rather commute than go with him, you thought. Just as you opened the door, a particularly large hand pushed it close. You looked up to see him leaning down and handing the taxi driver crisp bills.

“Leave.”

Never had you witnessed a taxi drove as fast as he did away from you, the tires screeching dramatically as he sped away from the building.

You turned to him, anger and irritation coursing through your veins. You were physically, mentally and emotionally tired. This was the last thing you needed tonight.

“That was rude.”

He lifted his dark brows at that. He looked down at you and only then did you notice that the hair he usually kept neat seemed slightly disheveled.

“Actively avoiding me, calling me a ghost, and walking away from me when I’m talking to you is what’s rude,” he shot back, his voice just as dark as his eyes.

“Calling me beneath you is ruder, don’t you think? Acting like you were my friend when you were merely toying with me is more improper, don’t you think?”

He flinched at every shot you took. His blunders were by no means light, but he wanted-. No. He needed to make this better. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat and his face lost the glow he had always bragged about! This was a disaster, and this was him putting it on a lighter note.

“I’m-“

“Look, buddy,” you breathed, easing the irritation you were feeling. “What will make you stop?”

“I want to apologize-“

“K. Do it,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand, wanting this to be done so that you can at least get a roughly five hours of sleep once you get home.

He frowned, blinking rapidly at your sudden change of heart. “I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry-“

“Forgiven. Bye.”

Part VI

[eternallyfatedjadedspaded]

(let me noooot start spamming this post... but also, "A Drop of Blood", and "The First Disciple" okay, and "You Don't Own Me". 👀😅🤣👍)

Eternity was in our lips and eyes-

"Because I have immortal longings in me: I long less to die than to be immortal, to live on in a life other than this- but the immortal longings can also suggest age-old desires, a deep, deep desire for Antony, now inextricably bound up with Cleopatra's desire for death.”

(william shakesphere's tragedy: antony and cleopatra)

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König's Haunted House Disaster

Inspired by @machveil 's post HERE and my little blorbo of König punching out recruits HERE, I figured that for the day before Halloween I should write about just what exactly went down on the night Horangi, Hutch and Askel took König to a haunted house.

Art from This Post

12:00 - Ten Hours Before the Ban

"Hey König! You gotta check this out!" Horangi called across the cafeteria, enthusiastically waving his phone as he jogged over.

König, already tired of what Horangi was about to say, simply grunted when the Korean man slid into the seat beside him. He tried his best to convey just how tired he was, but it was to no avail as Horangi eagerly crowded into his personal space to show him his crack phone screen.

"You really should get that replaced," König grumbled as Horangi shuffled closer.

"You sound like my Mom," Horangi commented before pressing play on the video.

König winced at the volume as Horangi hurriedly turned it down with a whispered 'Sorry!'.

"You really are a useless-"

"Look!" Horangi jammed his finger at a small sign in the video.

König leaned in and squinted.

"Horangi, my eyes are good but they're not that good. Can you just tell me what it says?"

"This place is near our base!" Horangi explained, "let's get a few guys and we'll go!"

"You want to go to a... A scary house?" König asked curiously.

"A haunted house König," Horangi sniffed, "seriously you moved from Germany over ten years ago and you still don't know what a haunted house is?"

König huffed, "My mind blanked. I know what they are."

"Yeah sure, keep telling yourself that," Horangi drawled before switching tabs to get to a poorly formatted website, "now look, tickets are cheap here. It's only five euros to get in!"

For a moment, König's eyes sparkled.

"Only five euros?" he muttered, "that's not too bad... I could be convinced."

"If we go to the shwarma place fist would that help?"

"... Maybe."

"Alright I'll tell Hutch," Horangi swung his legs from out of the bench.

König watched, slightly stunned, as Horangi swaggered away to the other cafeteria.

"Aren't you going to have lunch with me?" König asked.

Horangi turned to look over his shoulder and scoffed, "Nah, I've got shit to do. I wanna go, but if we don't get enough of a crowd it's just not worth it."

König narrowed his eyes, "Was I only asked to boost numbers?"

Horangi shrugged, "Why are you worried?"

"Don't you consider me a friend?" König asked bitterly.

"Yeah," Horangi said, "but you always push the chair back in the car until it hits my knees."

"Then drive," König stated.

"I don't need you on my case too," Horangi grumbled and walked away, leaving König to sit with an empty tray in front of him.

He glared at the gleaming steel.

"Did I really eat it all that fast?"

17:00 - Five Hours Before the Ban

Hutch took a long swig of water before dropping his arm to his lap. He waved at König fondly, "Hey there."

König waved back curtly and picked up a dumbbell before sitting on a bench and starting his bicep curls.

"You doing another set?" Hutch asked.

"Why not?" König shrugged.

"That's what I keep telling myself, but then I strain something," Hutch laughed, "you best watch yourself old man."

"I am not old!" König grumbled, "I only just turned thirty a month ago."

"You're in your thirties. You're old," Hutch smirked.

"You're what, twenty-nine?" König huffed.

"Twenty-seven and eleven months, thank you," Hutch replied.

"Oh so you'll be old soon enough," König snorted.

Hutch shook his head and wiped a blue towel over her forehead, "Nah, once I hit thirty then thirty-five is old."

"Oh," König rolled his eyes, "I see. So I won't be old for long."

"Did I say thirty-five? I meant thirty-one" Hutch took another sip of water.

"You're worse than Horangi," König puffed as he neared the end of his rep.

"König," Hutch glared down his nose at the bigger man, "nobody's as bad as Horangi."

König put the dumbbell by his feet and set his timer before he admitted, "Maybe not."

"Speaking of Horangi though," Hutch started stretching his arms over his chest, "I heard that he invited you to come out with us?"

"Word really does go around fast here," König muttered.

"When it's with Horangi? Sure does. But seriously man," Hutch eased into a good stretch, "are you coming?"

König drummed his fingers on his thigh as he felt his heart rate relax. He turned his head from side to side and then said, "Why not. I don't have anything else to do."

"Then I guess we got you on a good day," Hutch smiled.

"'We'? I thought this was a Horangi thing," König glanced over at his friend.

"Well, I gave Horangi the idea, but he was the one who really made it happen," Hutch explained, "I was hoping we might schedule something for next week or whatever, but Horangi's too impulsive to wait."

"Strange. When we were out in Iraq I saw him line up a shot for three hours," König shook his head, "but that man works in weird ways. I don't think I'll ever understand him."

"Funny, 'cause he says the same things about you," Hutch commented.

König was about to say something when his timer went off.

"Another rep, big guy?"

König nodded and picked up the dumbbell again, "Always another."

20 :00 - Two Hours Until the Ban

"Oh my God this is so good."

"See? I told you it would be."

"Okay but I saw you flicking mould off a peach last week," Horangi rolled his eyes as he stuffed another forkful of shwarma in his mouth, "your definition of 'good' is fucked."

König bristled as Hutch and Aksel laughed quietly behind him. He glared at the two, but it only served to worse Aksel's giggling.

"It was just a tiny bit," he explained.

"It was not a tiny bit," Aksel snickered, "that was the peach that Stiletto forgot in her locker."

König paled, "Was it really?"

"Yeah?" Aksel shook his head mirthfully, "I mean, it was set out on the counter for a reason."

"I thought..." König trailed off as he turned to glare at his hands.

"Whatever you thought," Hutch interjected, "it was just stupid. Like come on man, it was smellin' and everything!"

König wrinkled his nose, "I don't think it smelled that bad."

"You know you nearly gave Stiletto a heart attack," Horangi added on.

König smiled beneath his hood, "Well, I suppose I'll have to tell her I'm sorry."

"Oh cut the crap," Horangi gruffed, "you just wish you saw her face too."

König nodded from side to side as the others laughed.

It wasn't often that the men could get off base for a bit, but by pulling König's rank card (Horangi swore that wasn't the reason he was invited) and explaining a few things away, they managed to be able to get some time out to look around and enjoy the city. It took about an hour to drive to the shwarma shop, but at least it seemed to be a hit with the whole team. König was glad to at least provide something to the trip. He hated to admit it, but even then he was anxious about appearing good enough for his team.

"So," Horangi put his plastic fork down, "In about fifteen minutes, what do you guys think about heading out to the haunt?"

"Fine by me," Aksel nodded as Hutch swallowed a bite of his wrap, nodding in agreement.

"Alright. König? You cool with that?" Horangi turned to look at the tall Austrian.

"Should be fine," König nodded, "I mean, it might be a bit late, but..."

"We'll be fine," Hutch shut him down quickly, "don't worry about it man."

"I mean, it's just it's a long drive, and-"

"König! If the numbers guy says it'll be fine, then it'll be fine," Aksel sighed.

Horangi patted his shoulder, "Trust us. It'll be fine."

König sighed and relaxed into the seat. He didn't trust them, not in the slightest, but the least he could do was pretend.

21:00 - One Hour Until the Ban

The group of four man stood outside the farmhouse, looking up and down at the dilapidated building. Fog rolled from the windows with winding screams into the night. Occasionally, a bright red flash would come from the top left window. Cheap cobwebs were woven over the ground, littered with tiny plastic spiders that glowed in the green light coming from the front porch.

"You gettin' scared at all?" Horangi grinned as he looked between the others.

"Pft, it looks cheap," Aksel crossed his arms, "saw way better when I was a kid."

"I think that's positivity bias there, Aksel," König muttered, earning himself a short nod from Hutch.

"I think we might've wasted our time honestly," Hutch frowned as he gave the building another once-over.

"Oh come on," Horangi groaned, "we haven't even been inside. It might be a lot of fun!"

"Fun?" Askel shook his head and tutted condescendingly, "in this place? I doubt it."

Hutch glared at the offending building behind a pair of sunglasses.

"The website made it look so much better," Hutch complained bitterly as he squared his shoulders back.

Watching Horangi's face fall, König couldn't help but kick himself for being so negative to the place. Without another word, he put a hand on Horangi's shoulder and cocked his head to the side.

"Maybe it might be better on the inside, don't you think?" he offered his friend.

Horangi smiled back brightly, "See! König has the right idea!"

König shrivelled under the judgmental glare of the others. He hated how they looked almost disappointing in him for trying to stand up for Horangi. Really, even if the haunt was just for kids, what was the harm in having fun with it?

"Well hey, they say there's only groups of two here," Horangi pointed at a poorly painted sign, "so I'll go with König and you two buzzkills go with each other."

Aksel rolled his eyes, but threw an arm around the taller man to his left, "Alright, looks like we're together."

"Get your arm off of me," Hutch grumbled.

Not keen to be dragged down by the others, König decided to follow Horangi to the front steps of the home.

Strangely, as König drew closer, he couldn't help but feel that age-old familiar tingle in his chest. Something about the house set him on edge. He didn't want to admit it, but the house certainly unnerved him. He had the feeling something horribly dreadful waited for him inside.

"You know, now that the other two are gone, I'm really digging the vibes here," Horangi elbowed König lightly.

"Ja," König replied stiffly, "it is different without them."

Horangi looked up at his friend skeptically. After observing him carefully, a sly smile slid across Horangi's face.

"Getting a bit spooked, big guy?" Horangi asked.

König snorted, "No, of course not."

"Sure," Horangi drawled, "whatever you say."

König turned to glare, but they were already being called up.

As he stepped up to the ticket taker, he noticed the man turning to an actor and whispering. He tried to ignore how they both seemed to focus more on him than Horangi before the smaller scare actor was shooed off.

As they walked into the house, Horangi worsened his fears when he blithely commented, "They really seemed to be looking at you back there. I wonder why."

König felt positively dreadful.

21:30 - Half an Hour Until the Ban

König looked around him nervously. About five minutes ago, Horangi had disappeared from his side. He could hardly believe it. One minute Horangi was chatting away and the next he was gone. He didn't even really know when he lost the man, he'd long-since tuned out his rambling. Now, he wished he were paying more attention.

Now that he was alone, König couldn't help but notice all the sounds more. The screams pressed on his ears as the rattling of chains snaked through his feet. Sometimes he swore he heard someone panting in his ear, but when he turned there was only the low green light guiding him forwards.

With each step he took, he felt like he was passing through thick webs. Occasionally, thick tarps would block his vision and he'd have to push forward. He tried his best to not let his heart rate spike, but something had him on edge.

A part of him was kicking himself for being in any way, shape or form affected by the house. It was just a haunted house, it was all fake. He'd seen real horror, so why did this get to him? What was it that had his skin crawling?

He didn't know but it just kept getting worse.

König pushed past a curtain of rusted chains to enter what looked like the remnants of a kitchen. In the strobing red lights, he could see blood splatters cake the walls. The shine of metal on the walls clued him in to the knives wallpapering the room. His knees felt weak when he finally noticed the centre of the room.

There, lying down strapped to the dining room, a woman watched him with bright white eyes.

König couldn't help himself as he dashed into the next room.

Those eyes, bright white, staring directly at him, they petrified him like no other. He felt them boring into him, even as he left. He spared a glance behind him and nearly collapsed when he saw the woman turn her head 180 degrees to follow him.

He slammed the next door shut behind him, swallowing him in darkness.

21:45 - Fifteen Minutes Until the Ban

König panted as he slumped against the door. He held his chest tightly, welcoming the darkness around him. Finally he could get away from those eyes. In this darkness, nobody could ever see him.

König closed his eyes and sighed.

When he opened them, a small candle lit the room, revealing the contents to him for the first time.

When he looked around, he wanted to scream.

Mirrors. There were mirrors everywhere. Some as big as him, some smaller than his thumbnail. Ton and tons of mirrors all glinting back at him.

He could see his form slowly distorting in the candlelight. Old memories rushed through him and he trampled forth, knocking down a couple of mirrors in the process and shattering them on the ground.

21:50 - Ten minutes Until the Ban

König ran until he collided into a wall and stumbled back. Now in the low red lights he could see everything around him.

From the room of mirrors he'd walked into a small pioneer classroom. To his horror, every single pair of eyes was on him. He tried walking one way, and the 'students' turned their heads. He walked the other way and they followed him. He glanced around in widening horror as he realized the only exit was at the back of the room.

Without another thought, he pushed forth.

21:55 - Five Minutes Until the Ban

König didn't know why he ever agreed to come here. This place was nothing but a house of torture. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to do anything he could to escape. Any exit he saw only took him further and further into the maze.

How was a small farmhouse so big? It felt endless in here. Each turn brought him new horrors, new eyes staring at him. He tried to get away, but he could feel their eyes on him constantly, watching him run, watching him stumble, watching him as he desperately tried to find an escape.

He barely took in his surroundings as he charged through the building. He could hear something being shouted, could hear footsteps crashing down behind him but he just kept pushing forth. He needed to do anything he could to get away. He could feel his throat tightening and his heart pounding as he ripped down a curtain to get by.

He stumbled through into another black room and felt himself shut down.

21:58 - Two Minutes Until the Ban

The room was silent. Nothing from the outside came in. It was cold, terribly cold. Never had he been so cold. Why was he so cold?

He heard a door unlock, and footsteps step in.

21:59 - One Minute Until the Ban

"Uh, hello?" he heard a quiet voice, "um, is anyone in here?"

A bright flashlight turned on in his face, momentarily blinding him.

König didn't think as he punched into the light. He only heard a squawk and a curse as the light dropped down to the ground. He stumbled back and all the lights turned on.

22:00 - THE BAN

"Dude!" he looked down to find a straggly teen.

"Shit he got Johann," a woman yelled out.

"I told you this was a bad idea," a man grunted as he stepped forth and hauled the teen up to his feet. He gave König a sharp glare and jabbed a finger in his direction.

"Me?" König could feel the panic draining from his system.

"You! Go follow her and get out of here," the man yelled.

König didn't need to be told twice. He quickly found the tiny purple-haired woman and scurried to her side. She eyed him with disgust.

"Seriously dude, that wasn't cool," she sighed, "like, I know we're an extreme haunt, but you can't punch the actors. That's like, the number one rule here."

"Ah, sorry," König muttered weakly.

"Your friend is outside waiting for you," she grumbled as she led him through the back, "I told the guys not to push you too far, but they just wanted to scare the big guy and I guess they went too far. Still," she opened the final door, "you're banned from the haunt. Permanently."

"Why?" König asked meekly as he stepped by.

"You punched the actors dude," she glared at him, "number. One. Rule."

With that she slammed the door in his face, leaving him to join Horangi outside.

Horangi only had to take one look at his friend to figure out what had happened.

"You punched an actor?" he crossed his arms over his chest, "that's like, the number one rule."

"I panicked," König explained weakly.

"You? You panicked?" Horangi frowned, "what the hell did they do to you?"

König shook his head as he leaned over, "Eyes. So many eyes."

"Eyes?"

"And mirrors."

"And mirrors!? König, what sorta haunt did you go to?" Horangi quizzed him, "I just got led around a haunted barnyard!"

"After they split us up," König sucked in another breath, "it was... I didn't think that it would be that bad." Horangi scrunched his eyebrows together, but thankfully only clapped a hand on his back and helped push his friend forward, "Alright, well, I saw some sorta candy place. Looked like dragonsbreath, so I wanted to check it out. Wanna come with?"

König wheezed.

"I'll take that as a yes," Horangi shrugged and dragged König over to the cotton candy vendor.

Konig Dump

Konig Regular Fanfics

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

I'm still thinking about banner bearers as I continue working on my Obscure Blorbo Guthláf story, and I do find it impressive how much context about the banner bearer role Tolkien shoved into LOTR in barely half a dozen sentences' worth of small references.

For starters, there are (by my count) 3 acknowledged banner bearers in Lord of the Rings: Halbarad of the rangers of the North, Guthláf of Rohan (♥️), and an unnamed Haradrim standard bearer. I reject the distinction Tolkien made between so-called high, middle and low Men, but it is notable nonetheless that he created a banner bearer character from each of these 3 groups. That shows how universally important the function was, at least to communities of Men, just as it was extremely common in the real world for many hundreds of years of human history. All kinds of Middle Earth's Men have them, no matter how different the Men are from one another.

In addition, all 3 of the banner bearer characters die at the Pelennor Fields, which effectively illustrates how incredibly dangerous a job it was, both in Middle Earth and real life. Given how intentional Tolkien is about everything, I think it's fair to assume that he purposefully killed all of them in recognition of the realities of ancient warfare. (The only banner bearer I can think of in any Tolkien book that survives their war is Eönwë in the Silmarillion, but he's an immortal Maia so...TOTALLY different circumstances.)

And finally, Tolkien shows us how significant the loss of a banner bearer was to both sides in a battle. When Théoden kills the unnamed Haradrim standard bearer (just before the Witch King rolls up), that's the moment when the forces of Harad founder and start to flee because they've lost their rallying point and their source of morale. They can't function without their banner bearer. On the opposite side, Théoden cites his felling of the black serpent flag to Merry as one of the singular achievements that will allow him to sit proudly alongside his ancestors in the afterlife, so he clearly also understands taking out a banner bearer to be a massive battle achievement.

We don't witness Halbarad or Guthláf’s final moments, but their deaths are just as significant. Out of the untold numbers of dead at the Pelennor Fields, they are both in the small handful of names to be recorded in the story because they were important and their deaths meant something to the broader battle. And we see in the immediate aftermath of Guthláf’s death what a huge deal it is to the Rohirrim—they stop to address his death and retrieve his banner so that it can be borne by another before they even take the time to tend to their mortally wounded king. Those are the actions of people who understand how strategically important a banner bearer is above almost all other battlefield functions.

I'm not trying to say Guthláf is more important than Théoden* but I am saying that Tolkien really demonstrated, through a handful of very economical little actions and asides and unremarked-upon events, how critical people like Guthláf were, as well as how ridiculously brave and selfless. And more than anything else, I guess I’m saying that now, as I approach 27,000 words about Guthláf in my Google docs, he’s…on my mind a lot.

*At this point, I would absolutely say this for myself. In my heart, there's no contest and it's Guthláf forever. But I know that’s because he’s my special li’l guy and I don’t expect that of anyone else!