#those guys look nothing alike how was i supposed to know

[chussyracing]

What has been happening in the world of motorsports lately?

Alpine signed Franco Colapinto as a reserve driver on multiple year basis, his manager said in an interview that it is a 5 years long contract

Arthur Leclerc will be driving in 24 hours of Daytona with AF Corse number 50

Andy Cowell becomes team principal of Aston Martin adding to his role of CEO as Mike Krack moves to the trackside team

Haas is currently testing in Jerez in Spain with previous cars (Ollie and Este for Haas and Ritomo Miyata as a part of Toyota)

Toyota also said that they would like to return to F1 full time (just not right now, but it is a first step)

Romain Grosjean became Prema’s reserve in Indycar

Ben Sulayem criticised British media about how they speak about him and against Saudi Arabia and that British GP is sponsored by Qatar Airways which could retract the sponsorship and the money

FIA raised the 2026 cost cap due to inflation, more costs falling under the cost cap and also different technical rules (btw Audi will have different one as the costs in Switzerland are significantly higher)

Alex Dunne became McLaren FE team’s reserve driver

Felipe Drugovich extended his reserve driver contract with Aston

Hot Wheels produced Red Bull car which should bet he first of all teams with their F1 partnership (also the first Lego sets in partnership with F1 are already out too)

Charles sat down for Open Mind (interview??), became the face of latest issue of Sportweek, promoted Peroni, went winter training with his boytoys and then gave an interview to Goodwood

Lewis also has been skiing a bit, Carlos was cycling and Nando was… training his neck. Of course he was.

For some reason. Everyone went to a hairstylist. Pierre and Jack are bald. Oscar used a comb and exposed his hairline and now apparently George also cut his hair

Ollie opened the Autosport International

Guanyu won Weibo’s sport personality of the year

Checo’s dad thanked Red Bull for his time with the team while reports appeared that he would take some time off F1 before deciding on his future

Valentino Rossi will be driving for WRT in WEC this year

Racing Bulls signed a partnership with AI company called Dynatrace

For this year, FIA capped the testing time to 1000 hours of TPC (previous cars) and Ferrari decided to gave them all to Lewis to help him settle in the team

Will Buxton and James Hindcliffe (how do you even spell these names rip) will become part of Indycar’s Broadcasting from this season onwards

and some gossip/interesting facts from my comms under the cut

They were asked on drivers and PR and how they are in real life (which let’s be real nobody knows) and said Jenson Button was very unpleasant, Lance is sometimes pretty rude but only if they approach him as media (when they later met him without the TV’s badge on, he was nice to them), and Lando changed a lot since the year he came into F1 (he will now smile for the cameras and answer their questions for media but once the cameras go off he is really arogant)

Lewis already visited Maranello informally but his formal visit is still waiting

There was 70 less overtakes in 2024 than in 2023 despite there being 2 more races and this year’s Monaco only contained 7 overtakes

2025 F1 grid is made of 8 of 20 drivers affiliated to red bull (despite no longer featuring Sergio, Seb and Daniel): Max, Liam, Yuki, Isack, Alex, Carlos, Pierre, Jack

Despite Zak’s complaints about Red Bull and VCARB working together, the relationship between Ferrari and Haas is much closer

There is a rumour about Max’s and Zandvoort‘s contracts being interlinked somehow, so there is are whispers about him retiring sooner than in 2028 when his contract runs out

Lando’s number one mechanic Marc Cox who left to Extreme E for some time is now coming back as a part of Aston Martin’s crew

Hadjar said he knew about his promotion to F1 since midseason, just didn’t know which seat

There is another rumour about Carlos already looking for a seat outside of Williams

Yuki had offers from Sauber, Alpine and Haas but Red Bull blocked all of them

If anyone on red bull team (and junior team) doesn’t perform well, they are preparing Arvid Lindblad to potentially step up into F1 (the superlicence age change was rumouredly for him because he will only turn 18 later this year and because Marko thinks he is the new Verstappen)

Kimi did 9000 kms of testing with Merc which is about 30 race distances (it is huge number for the new era of F1 but back when testing wasn’t regulated, Lewis did 30k before his debut in MCL)

Newbies get more strict contracts but they get easier as they drive for the team longer – you won’t see rookies posting about skiing or skydiving but you sure will see Lewis or Lance do that (also apparently one of the first things that gets blacklisted first is horseriding lol)

binotto is mad that sauber factory is in terrible condition: they had no people, no methods, the wind tunnel is kinda okay but they have no capacity and knowhow to use it effectively

Ferrari and Mercedes are best prepared for 2026 so far because the new regulations are focused on the engines a lot („if i had to say numbers it is like 60% for Ferrari and 40% for Merc“)

There is unwritten rule that if a driver uses a scooter they do not want you to stop them for media duties and fresh batch of questions

and personal admission: i just discovered today that charles' and pierre's photographers are brothers 💀

[evilminji]

Gold can be exchanged for goods and services (o.o )

Pariah's Keep probably has a shit ton of Precious Goods from various places.

Danny is become King?

If Danny becomes King... then the Zone will somewhat obey him. The Crown and Ring could EASILY tell him where the next natural portal is, where it opens up, and for how long. How many there are. Could probably make a few.

Probably WAS supposed to be making them. Consciously. But, well, Coma(tm).

Would probably count as Kingly Duty to filter and collect. Clean Ecto goes out for souls that remain, a Gateway home for those that wish to LEAVE, so forth and so on.

Effectively, being The Grim Reaper. You don't CAUSE Death. You just guide the way home. If folks so choose.

And that's neat! Horrifying, but neat! And Danny can TOTALLY see how it would eventually drive him completely breakfast cereal fruity nuggets! LUCKILY, he's got a vaguely bro's/Mentor thing going with the ghost who has ALL OF POSSIBLE TIME flowing through HIS head! So Danny should be Gucci!

The headaches suck though.

But WHAT... to do with all this Gold and valuable Space Goods? Most of these aren't even recognized currency on earth! Like the Shells. You could buy a mansion with one of those... on the right planet. On Earth? Pretty paperweight. Hmmmm >.>

Wait.

WAIT!

<o> *points to top of head!* CROWN! It can? Predict and make PORTALS!

Portals lead any WHERE and any WHEN!

:O

Gold... can be exchanged for goods and services. He remembers, holding a gold brick, about to eat so, SO much pizza.

But WAIT! I hear you wondering! Surely, you mean? Within his past? The history and region of space he knows, right? Ha ha :) Nope! Cowards.

Danny is on the alien otter's planet, trading those sweet, sweet Shells for some snacks no human could eat and a shawl for his sister! He's hiding, badly, behind a food stall in the Martian market place. Hoping future hero J'onn Johnes doesn't notice him.

Lying to the Space Cops, bout where his untraceable Space Money came from, on an alien trading satellite. The Green Lantern's not buying it. Oh noooo >.> sudden Fright Knight. Looming Menacingly by the loading doooocks. Everyone's upset! Definitely not related to him! Better go check on that! :) *gets the heck out of dodge* (my king. Please stop using me as a distraction.) (No promises)

But! It's all fun and games? Until your human friends get sick. Like... REALLY sick.

And then you suddenly remember time and space mean nothing to you. One 15 minute flight that way, two doors, a quick flight of stairs, and a literal child's play place slide? You could be in the 32nd century.

That disease is AT BEST, an unpleasant afternoon, there.

Here, your friend could die.

You trade a student two Spanish dubloons. They have no idea what they are. Just like the look of them and know they're real metal. They walk into the pharmacy for you. Don't question your "social experiment paper" lie.

You're back in less then an hour.

The screaming argument about ethics and mortality lasts hours.

She still takes the medicine. Gets better. Won't talk to you for months. Because why does HER life matter more? Why bend the rules for HER? And you can't bring yourself to say what pulses as Truth from both Crown and Ring.

You could because she didn't Matter. Time... would not notice, nor change. She was in no way pivotal to the flow of history, must one more ant beneath its unrelenting march. Mattering only because those who love her CARE. Because one or two little things might change for the better.

But it takes the shine off of it, a little.

Being able to go to the FUTURE. Watch movies and see aliens and humans alike in the crowd. Read books and dance to songs from people who won't be born for hundreds of years. Eat snacks from the farthest reaches of the cosmos. Or the early BCs!

And that's BEFORE other time travelers clock him as That Shopping Guy. The one who keeps popping up... buying things. For what? Unknown. Probably dinner. Half the time it's food. Trinkets. Once it was a really, REALLY nice goat. (His aunt was THRILLED.)

It probably drives Bart crazy. Because NO ONE knows anything about the guy? Everyone just universally goes "oooh yeah! HIM! Yeah, he sure does Exsist(tm). Very... present and exsistant." Like that's not CRAZY! He has so many question. So Many! What is he even BUYING!? Why? Is there an order? Or is he winging it?!

*pulls out list* he needs ANSWERS!

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight

[palajae]

hypegirl! | one.

PAIRING ▸ soccer player! niki x afab! reader

GENRE ▸ soccerl! au, roommates!au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WORD COUNT ▸ 3.3k

SUMMARY ▸ all you want is to join the boys’ soccer team. all niki wants is to get minji’s attention. as roommates, what better than to strike a deal and help each other out? nothing really, except for one glaring issue: your blossoming feelings for said roommate. oh, and the fact that you’re technically supposed to be your brother, kim sunoo. 

AKA a hopefully more sfw version of she's the man? 

NOTES ▸ based off she’s the man (2006), reader is sunoo's sister and pretends to be her brother sunoo—let me know if there’s any typos!

masterlist. | next.

HE LOOKS JUST LIKE A DREAM.

so you’re practically drooling over your roommate, nishimura riki. a bit embarrassing, you know, but not as much as when you first started living with guys, in an all guys dorm, pretending to be… 

a guy. 

exactly how did you even get into this predicament? stuck hiding your feelings for your roommate that doesn’t even know that you’re utterly (and shamelessly) lying about your entire identity.  

ah. that’s right. technically, you weren’t supposed to be at an all boys soccer camp.

even worse, you’re not supposed to be posing as the opposite gender. especially not as your older brother sunoo.

as roommates with riki for the entire summer, you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do—as kim sunoo and as you yourself. 

growing up you always heard the same old remarks, about how much you and your older brother sunoo looked so much alike. 

while you weren’t twins, you supposed you could see the resemblance. but you were you. and kim sunoo was kim sunoo. 

along with the comments on your resemblance, you constantly remember hearing how sunoo was “so much more feminine” than you. sure you enjoyed more typical ”boy” activities, as the world defined it, but so what? what was with all the gender stereotyping? 

growing up, you learned to deal with it. all that mattered was that you had a somewhat good childhood and relationship with your brother sunoo. 

while your appearances may have been similar, your hobbies certainly weren’t. 

your mother tried to push you toward the more artistic and creative side, which you didn’t exactly have a knack for. those kinds of things were more of sunoo’s style. 

on the other hand, you were interested in more physical and hands on activities. 

you enjoyed playing sports like soccer, while sunoo enjoyed singing and performing. 

but there was one thing both you and sunoo inherited from your mother: stubbornness.

she constantly kept nudging you to those so called refined pastimes and away from said “dangerous” sports. 

so no surprise came to you in the summer of your junior year when your mother informs you of your summer plans (that she apparently decided on her own). 

you would be going to band camp, while sunoo went to soccer camp. 

was she crazy? 

your artistic skills couldn’t exactly be called skills—the last time you touched an instrument was three years ago—and sunoo could barely walk straight sometimes. 

yours and sunoo’s protest fell on deaf ears. 

“but mom! why can’t i go to soccer camp? you know our school has only a boys soccer team and i’ve been wanting to-“

she crosses her arms. “it’s a boys only camp, y/n. i want you to practice your musicality more and sunoo can make more friends at his camp. this will good for both of you. end of discussion.” 

once summer came, you would go off to your respective camps and come back at the end of summer, hopefully still alive. 

that was the plan—your mothers plan. 

but not yours. 

it didn’t take long for you to come up with what you thought (originally) was an ingenious idea. 

you’ll pretend to be sunoo—that was the easiest part— and act as him to attend the soccer camp. in place of you, sunoo will go to yours as he wished. luckily for him, your band camp was for anyone, so it would be easier for him to fit in. a win-win situation, no? 

this is the chance you’ve been waiting for. after years of disapproval from your parents and lack of formal soccer training and participation, you finally have a opportunity. in return, sunoo can just go as himself to your music camp and play it safe. 

you figure you could just switch on the last day and keep each other updated so mom didn’t get suspicious.

when you voice this plan to your brother, being the goody two shoes he is, sunoo’s uncertain until you win him over with constant begging. not only did you inherit stubbornness but tenacity. 

you figured you lived around and hung around enough guys to help you seem less suspicious. or at least, get by. if anything, you could text sunoo for help. 

you were practically counting the days until you left. and with your wig, drawn in eyebrows, and shoulder pads, off you went.  

you had to keep reminding yourself that from now on, you’re kim sunoo. it’s weird and a bit overwhelming at first, being surrounded by a bunch of sweaty, soccer playing guys who are obviously much more skilled and experienced than you. 

you completely forgot about the whole living situation with dorms and a randomly assigned roommate. all your clothes were borrowed from sunoo, and all your personal products were stored in an hopefully inconspicuous black bag. 

as you drag your heavy and totally not suspicious duffel bag into your given dorm, you soon stop in your tracks. you see a guy, as expected, but he’s—

shirtless? 

your eyes widen, and you choke. he turns and you really try your best to focus on his face (and not his defined body). was it hot in here or just you?

he holds out a hand and you look at it, startled. 

“hey, you must be my roommate. i’m riki but everyone calls me niki.” 

man, why was his voice hot as well? 

you clear your throat, finding it hard to focus around him. 

“sup. i’m s-sunoo.” 

“nice,” he nods. 

you realize at that moment how sweaty you are due to stress and paranoia over getting caught, and he must as well due to his next words. 

“you good, man? if you’re hot, i can turn up the air.”

you immediately shake your head, “no thanks, i’m good-“

“-dude,” you add as an afterthought. you cringe as niki shoots you a weird look before returning to his claimed bed. 

you huff and dump your stuff onto your bed. what a start to the day. 

after that, niki introduces you to his other two friends attending the camp as well who live across the hall—jungwon and jay. 

you think you’re getting the hang of it, being your brother, but something about jungwon still makes you keep your guard up. the way he looked at you made you want to shrink up inside and curl into a ball. 

as you finish unpacking your stuff, you hear the three of them talking out in the hall. it’s not loud, but still enough for you to eavesdrop. you can tell immediately by their strategizing that they’re good. and by default their team must be as well. they had to be—they even had a infamous name, for crying out loud. 

enhypen. at first, you scoffed—what, were they like a boy band or something? but as you observed them play together during unofficial practices, their special ones that others couldn’t join, it hit you. 

you knew you had to make their team. no matter what. 

you know how this camp works, as the actual sunoo told you. all the boys at the camp would be divided up into teams based off preference, training, and coordination. 

after teams were formed, they would practice together until the end of the camp where all teams would play off in a championship. 

phones weren’t allowed either, except after hours at night. that would be your only chance to keep in touch with sunoo. besides that, you were on your own. 

waking up at 6am everyday was tough. 

training for hours in the sun with players who were much more stronger, skilled, and overall better than you was tough. 

being surrounded by boys and having to be on guard all the time was tough. 

but sneaking into to shower at night after everyone else was torture. the stink you had to endure 24/7 was bad, let alone all the other guys who caught a whiff too. 

you’re sure most of the guys found you weird. it was weird learning how to live with guys, changing when niki wasn’t around or looking, sneaking all your personal hygiene care. there was a lot to get used to. 

also, why were men’s restrooms so dirty sometimes? 

you were stuck in hot, strenuous conditions outside almost all day. it was a norm, constantly getting yelled at by coaches and receiving harsh remarks from teammates. 

but it’s everything you wanted. 

you knew it made you better. you were getting better. but it wasn’t enough for niki’s team, you could tell. team decisions were coming up, and you needed to find a way to make the cut. 

soon enough, a week into the camp, you found yourself getting somewhat adjusted. even thought you had like close to no friends, you felt less insecure… and more confident. 

during a break while doing power shot drills,   you gulp down water as your eyes wander.  there were girls training on the other side of the field—lacrosse players. from then on, you observed that you would occasionally share the field with them. you usually watched them with envy, regretting picking up the first ball you saw when you were younger, a soccer ball. 

you also observed how your roommate’s attention would be completely stolen by a certain someone playing lacrosse yards away. 

his eyes would always follow her when the guys had a break, as his friends teased him and he blushed. 

your eyes hardened at ‘minji’ or whoever you heard the guys whisper about. no, you weren’t jealous. why would you when you spoke a total of ten words per day to niki (more than any other guy at the camp)? 

you were just irked. technically, you had no right to be jealous—since you weren’t even you. you were supposed to be your brother. 

it’s only a day or two later that you see the girls training again. but it’s different this time. one of the male coaches calls all the soccer players on one side and the lacrosse players on the other side, all crowded together in a rough circle. you end up standing next to niki and follow his gaze to who do you know, minji. 

the coach blows his whistle. “everyone listen up! we’re going to have a joint session today, with both the guys and girls. just conditioning today, but hopefully this will promote better teamwork and communication.” 

whispers and groans erupt, but the whistle is blown again. 

“one guy and girl will be assigned to each other, randomly. now find your partner and get to it!”

“you’re kidding. we have to train with girls?” you hear someone mutter and bite the inside of your cheek. 

you already know this spells out disaster. soccer boys and lacrosse girls? 

and it does, because your hear one of the assistants call out your (brother’s) name. you perk up, that is, until you hear who your partner is. 

“-and kim minji!” 

your mouth drops open. 

you soon feel a pair (or more) of eyes burn into you. one particularly close. 

“hey, sunoo…” 

you almost forget to respond. 

“…yeah?” you know what niki’s already going to say and it leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. 

“i was thinking we could like, you know, change partners-“ 

“kim sunoo! hurry up! your partners waiting!” 

with helpless eyes, you have no choice but to jog over to said expecting person. 

“hi,” she smiles and holds out a hand. you swallow. 

dang, she was pretty. no need to explain why niki had a crush on her. 

surprisingly, practicing with her went well. maybe a little too well. all you could remember was her nodding brightly and laughing at your jokes? 

honestly you were just trying to ease the awkward atmosphere. 

meanwhile, niki stares at the two of you in envy. he feels a ball hit him in the head. 

“focus nishimura!”

that night, as you walk into your room freshly showered, you almost jump when you hear niki’s voice. you thought he would’ve been asleep by now, as you took your time waiting for everyone to leave the shower rooms.

“sunoo?”

you clear your throat, making your voice deeper. “what’s up?”

“i bet you already know, but i’m kinda into minji…”

you stifle the urge to roll your eyes. sure, she was pretty and all but why was he so obsessed? what was so much better about her than you? 

“oh yeah?”

you can hear him sit up from his bed. “i know you guys are assigned partners and all, but you think we could switch?”

you fumble for words, “sorry but uh, i don’t think we can. i overheard someone else asking but coach said no exceptions.” 

technically not a lie. 

“dang. well, you think you could help me with her then? as friends?” 

you raise an eyebrow even though he can’t see it. when were you guys friends? 

“it depends, man…” 

“all you gotta do is put in a good word,” he starts quickly. he keeps rambling on but you’re too busy laughing at his cuteness to pay attention to what he’s actually saying. 

then it hits you. this is an opportunity. 

“what’s in it for me?” you cut him off. 

he pauses and you know this is your chance.

“if you put me in your team, i’ll talk to minji about you,” you state firmly. 

“whoa, whoa, whoa!” you hear more shuffling and the lights suddenly turn on. 

niki stares at you with wide eyes.

“you’re serious?” 

you nod, crossing your arms. you feel uncertain, unconfident. 

“i don’t think i can. like, it’s not really fair. plus you gotta meet our standards, you know. i can’t just let you in, you know. i mean, i can try… but that’s still no guarantee.” 

you push your chin forward. “that’s not a deal, then.” 

he sighs, rubbing his face. “i guess there’s only one other option.” you wait for him to speak. 

he looks at you, as serious as ever. “i’ll train you. that’ll give you the best chance to make the cut. only if you’ll help me to the best of your ability too.” 

“but this stays between us,” he adds. 

you exhale. this was better than nothing. 

“you got yourself a deal.” 

the sparks when you shook hands were too much to brush off.

so began your late night practices with your roommate. something you couldn’t imagine doing the first week you got here. 

niki’s good. at playing and at coaching. 

he’s observant. he sees all your weaknesses and faults. and he isn’t afraid to call you out.

“get to the ball faster, kim.”

“ugly form. we need to change it.” 

“how did you even make this camp?”

panting, you collapse onto the grass. what did you find attractive in this guy again? 

you open your eyes and see a hand right in front of your face.

eyes fluttering, you take it as niki helps you up. but he uses a bit too much strength as you stumble forward into his arms. his eyes widen as you stare at him in surprise. you both take a few steps back. 

“my bad. you’re way lighter than i thought.”

you clear your throat, trying to see unaffected. “i get that a lot.”

an uncertain silence fills the air as you gulp down water. 

“it’s getting late, we should head back.” 

you nod as you gather your stuff and it’s quiet again. 

“good work today.” 

you turn to him again with raised eyebrows but niki’s back is already facing you, making his way back to the dorms. 

“you know niki?”

you ask in between breaths, tossing the medicine ball to minji. 

“uhhh, the soccer player?” 

she tosses it back to you. 

you nod, turning to point him out a couple yards away training with his own partner. 

“yeah. him.” 

she shrugs, eyeing you. “i’ve heard of him, why? is there something i should know?”

“no-no! just wondering. he’s my friend and all, and i think he’s pretty cool. honestly, you guys would get along pretty well.” 

“…okay?” she drags out the last syllable while shooting you a weird look. 

this was going to be harder than you thought. 

you sigh, patting the lotion into your face. at this point you had gotten used to the conditions at camp, being almost two weeks in. that also meant less than a week until team decisions.

you knew niki was skilled but as he teaches you tips and tricks the coaches don’t, you notice it. you can feel yourself getting better day by day as team selection day comes up. and others take note too.

but only you and niki share a smile. 

thoughts consumed, you soon see a head pop into your peripheral vision. 

an eyebrow of niki’s quirks up, “what is that?” 

you jolt. 

“skincare—it’s important for everyone!”

you defend quickly, and he laughs, causing your heart to stutter. “nah, i get it. i was asking because i need a better everyday sunscreen too.” 

“oh,” you falter. 

you show him unabashedly. “i heard it’s good- uh, from my sister.” 

niki seems a lot more intrigued and it makes you smile. 

“huh… how do they always find the good stuff?”

he snatches it from you and you roll your eyes. 

practicing at night got you a lot closer to niki. it almost made you believe that you could make his team. not only was he a great teacher but overall, he was just a good person. 

you learned early on that nishimura riki really wasn’t all that he seemed to be. he was much, much more playful than you originally assumed. 

and much, much, more shyer. 

especially around girls. especially about girls. that explained why he asked you—of all people—to help with minji. 

niki acted so differently around you and the guys than with the lacrosse players. you could see it now. he was outgoing, funny, and not to mention way too much of a prankster with jay and jungwon (who you felt a bit more comfortable with too).

after all, jay was the one to tell you that niki would never be the one to approach, let alone talk to a girl first. or that he never had a girlfriend before, which surprised you. 

you realize that niki is only acting like his real self around you because he thinks you’re a guy. it makes you wonder, how would he act around you as yourself? 

knowing who you truly were?

“so….” niki starts off the next morning and you quirk an eyebrow. 

“how’s it going with minji?”

oh, right. you almost forgot about that. you honestly didn’t want to mention anything about him to her, but a deal was a deal and you weren’t the type to go back on your word. 

you rub your hands together, seemingly disappointed. 

“i’m sorry man, but she doesn’t seem that interested. i’m not going to lie to you and sugarcoat things but i don’t want to pressure her too much either.” 

he sighs. “i know. it’s just hard. i’m not good with talking to girls or anything like that.” 

you hum, “i mean, i could help you if you want. like acting as a girl and taking you out to practice.” 

“what?” he glances at you incredulously. 

you quickly shake your head, “i mean- you know i have a sister. i, uh, kinda learned some things from her—about girls and stuff.”

he scratches his neck. “yeah, i guess so.” 

you look around nonchalantly, “she’s around your age actually.” 

at this point you can’t deny that you found your roommate quite attractive. in terms of appearance and personality. his true self was too endearing. and you liked it a little too much. 

the more time you spend together, the more you realize you’re developing feelings for niki. as yourself. 

and you’re supposed to be kim sunoo. 

the next day, minji gives you a gatorade during practice. “good work today, sunoo!” 

you nod back, “you too, minji.”

she looks around before deciding to sit down next to you. “you know, i think your tip really helped. i feel so much less sluggish and puffy in the morning.” 

you zone out as she keeps going on. 

“i don’t know how you know so much, but it’s really cool.” 

she smiles her bright smile again as your eyes wander across the field. everyone else was still practicing, including niki. 

you embarrassingly can’t keep your eyes off of him as you see him wipe the sweat off his face, shaking his hair free of the wetness. 

“—sunoo?” 

“huh?” you jump back to reality. 

“did you hear me?” her big eyes blink back at you. “i was wondering if you wanted to hang out with our group tonight. you can invite some of your friends too.”

like the idiot you are, you reluctantly think of how great of an opportunity this is for niki. 

“sure!” 

“are you positive i look okay?” 

you’ve never seen niki this nervous, not even on the first day when the coaches were screaming in your faces. 

“yes,” you roll your eyes.

but a stray flyaway catches your eye. 

“wait-“

you reach up to fix it and you hear his breath hitch. 

“there you go. all nice and ready for minji,” you joke. he blinks before following you. 

“sunoo!” minji waves excitedly at you while niki trails awkwardly behind. occasionally on the weekends, everyone would have free time to go into town and hang out. today was just your (un)lucky day to be with minji and her friends. 

you can see some of them giggling and whispering behind her, and you figure it’s because of niki and jungwon. but they keep sending you looks, making uncomfortable shivers run down your back. 

“what’s up?” 

“we’re going to eat, and then maybe head to the arcade after?” you barely manage to nod before she happily grabs your hand out of the blue and drags you along. 

you don’t think it’s going to plan, however. minji spent most of her time with you while you were trying (quote: trying) to be with niki. all while niki was trying to get closer to her. 

minji was cool and all but you didn’t realize truly how much she talked to only you. she definitely wasn’t that friendly with everyone else, let alone niki and jungwon. so why did she keep such a close distance to you? 

by the end of the night, you wave a halfhearted goodbye to her and her friends as they laugh and walk off. 

sighing, you turn to niki who faces you with a skeptical look. “so… how was it?”

he shrugs, “it was nice, i guess. i feel like i didn’t get that many chances to talk to her, though.” 

“no way, man. i think you guys hit it off pretty well. you just need to spend more time together. trust me, she’ll like you.” 

you cringe internally at the words that leave your own mouth.

“you think so?” his eyes sparkle with hope. 

it’s cute. 

jungwon eyes you two warily. “you sure about that? i feel like she was spending a lot of time around you, sunoo.”

you’re quick to deny, “that’s just cause she’s known me longer. of course you’d be more comfortable with someone you already talked to.” 

you nod at niki for reassurance. for him or for yourself, you’re not sure.

it’s dark out. you had to wait for everyone else to head to bed before answering your mother’s call.  

“-so late?”

you roll your eyes, lazily kicking the grass with your foot outside on campus. 

“practice ran later today.” 

you hear her sigh from the other end. “whatever. i’m sending it to you then.” 

“mom,” you whine, “i don’t want to wear a dress for the performance.” 

“i have work that day sweetie. you know i won’t be able to see you, so please just wear the dress. pictures are getting taken. okay? i’m getting it sent to your camp so no more arguing.”

you stomp your foot.

“fine. and no, i will not wear high heels.” 

unbeknownst to you, a hidden figure crouches in a near bush. 

taehyun always felt like there was something fishy about you. from the first day on the camp when he locked eyes with you. 

the way you immediately looked away—you simply seemed so skittish, so out of place. there was just something fishy about you and he began to do more research. 

not only that, he saw how close you looked with kim minji. the girl he had liked for years, having come to the same respective camps previously. your new face was too suspicious to not investigate.

after hearing some parts of your conversation with what sounded like your mom, he vows to do more work to find out the truth. 

whatever the truth was about you, kim sunoo. 

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[ghouldtime]

ITS OCTOBER. I know you're hiding monster headcanons for T141 probably. Share them ? ;D

🎃💀🪦⚰️👻 🍂HAPPY OCTOBER Y'ALL! THE FIRST OF MY FAVORITE MONTH! SPOOKY SEASON IS OFFICIALLY ON AND YOU KNOW ME

I LOVE MY MONSTERS AND CRYPTIDS ALIKE WOOOOO Ghoul is in my blog name for a reason

I'll give you a basic monster type of what I associate them with! (Also please i will happily write monster! 141 any time)

Captain John Price - Bogeyman

You know how he said that someone has to make the bad guys afraid of the dark? Yeah

I take that quite literally

Bogeyman are usually supposed to be an imaginary creature used to frighten children into good behavior. They're the thing lurking in the closet, the monster under the bed that isn't there when you check

Except he very much is, lingering on the edge of your periphery at night

His deal isn't scaring children, though. No, he's above that

He might be a bogeyman but he's still keeping his morals and intentions very well. He's still going after the real monsters of the world

He's always lurking in the dark, in the shadows, waiting to make his appearance and scare the every living daylights of whoever the next victim is

Or he's in between, stashing in the dark as he moves from place to place between targets

His appearance isn't drastically different, aside from longer limbs, sharp claws, and glowing eyes that follow your every movement in the dark. I also like giving him sharp teeth!

You know he's near if you catch the faintest whiff of cigars on the air. You may not see him but he's there, waiting for his chance

As long as you haven't done anything too bad lately, you have nothing to worry about. Maybe you can try to make friends with the monster under the bed

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley- The Black Dog

I know I've done literal ghost Ghost and I LOVE cerberus ghost (Alone operator my beloved) but the black dog is just so fitting to him

They're spectral hellhounds associated with death itself - seeing one is a sure omen that death is near

They're also associated with electrical storms and crossroads, or places of execution and ancient pathways

The conversation of the two Shadows talking about Ghost mentioning that if you see him it's already too late had me thinking on it

If you see HIM, yeah, its likely death is near, imminent, and is looking for someone with your name

His appearance is that of an extra large black wolf like dog with shaggy fur, menacing teeth, and glowing red eyes. I still give him the ability to talk for extra menacing points

The skull is iconic so thought the dogs are usually solidly black, what identifies it as HIM are the few white stripes on his chin

That doesn't mean he's necessarily bad. As much as he's an omen of death, he can be a guide too - especially to those who are lost along the way

He's a creature of the night and shadows itself - you won't find him around in the day, he waits til darkness comes so he can truly use it to his advantage

Like the shadows said, if you see him, it's probably too late. Pray you're not the one he's seeking on behalf of death - much less, you're not the one he's introducing to it firsthand

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - The mimic/shapeshifter

I had to REALLY think on this because he doesn't strike me as any monster in particular. The only other one I'd really associate with him might be something like a poltergeist or a hitchhiking ghost

The mimic is a shapeshifting creature that can shift to match its surroundings, whether that be people or objects alike

I just saw it as him because, while he might appear charismatic and harmless on the outside, there's a whole lot he's hiding up his sleeves

He's adaptable, uses his environments to his advantage, and was the ONLY one in his class who escaped the facility and evaded capture in the RTI testing (I think that's the name for it and that part, correct me if im wrong I probably am)

Mimic/shapeshifter really fits his vibe well because he becomes what he needs to be

Of course, like any mimic, he lacks a 'true form' which is an amorphous flesh colored vaguely humanoid shape with razor sharp teeth (they all have sharp teeth, noticing a trend with these monsters)

That being said, he's not usually presenting as that. He's taking the form of whoever or whatever he needs to get the job done

I cannot emphasize how much you do not want to be on his bad side or have to deal with HIM going after you

He can be absolutely anywhere as anything. You're not going to be able to tell until its likely too late. That's his thing and he's GOOD at it

That said, he still has his humanity, he's still himself. You have to do something to piss him off or be one of his enemies to earn his ire and spite. Luckily he's mostly harmless

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish - Selkie

I know I know, werewolf Soap is what everyone probably wanted. and I FULLY agree and love werewolf/dog coded Soap BUT HEAR ME OUT

FIRST OFF they're apart of Scottish folklore so we already have that going

Selkies are creatures that can shapeshift between a seal form and a human form by removing their seal skin. They typically hide their seal skin, because without it they cannot return to their home of the sea

They're usually harmless and simply want to be among humans or on land for a little while before they return to their lives at sea. However, they can become extremely violent, vengeful, and destructive when provoked

Soap just naturally has more of that seal personality! Smart, curious, playful, a bit cautious - and certainly has plenty of bite when provoked. Don't let that cute face fool you, they're hunters under the turbulent waters

SO NATURALLY I'm going to want to make him a seal creature

In seal form, I give him the appearance of a harbor seal! The main distinction is he has a more prominent ridge of fur running down his spine and he's a slightly darker shade than the other seals

In human form, he's still himself! Pretty blue eyes and all, ignore the slight webbing between his fingers it's totally just a genetic condition

He's absolutely no joke, though, no matter how cute and cuddly he looks. You do NOT want to play around with him under water, or you're being dragged down to where you're not seeing the light of day again

Just leave him be, bring him a fish or two, and you'll be fine

(I love selkie soap and seal soap in general its so him. But i will dually take Kelpie! Soap too)

(I also know Selkie! Soap is a very popular take but I LOVE IT and will eat it up)

[sh4rkyb]

Yan!Ethan x Reader

Decided to try and write something a bit darker. He’ll carve his name into your hip— other than that nothing too bad! Enjoy [ 1.3k wc]

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

12:32 am.. October 12th.

It was your birthday finally, deciding to spend the first 3 hours watching horror movies— snuggled up on your couch watching a movie; eating a batch of fresh buttery popcorn. You’d been watching scary movies since 11 since you didn’t want to wait another hour to 12— binging Jason and shows alike.

You were finally immersed, jumping at every jumpscare unless you expected it— hyperaware of everything. Then you got a text. You opened your phone, noting the unknown number.

Hi Y/N. I heard it was your birthday. Happy birthday (:

You thought it off as one of your classmates that didn’t have your number. Got it off Chad, about to write back when you could’ve sworn you heard your door unlock in that moment. It wasn’t from the movie, you were sure of it. You’ve been unlocking and locking that door for years now. You got up and went straight to the kitchen, grabbing one of the knives with phone in hand— making sure there was nobody behind you. Your phone pinged again.

I don’t think a kitchen knife is the best choice birthday girl. But this will be real fun since you wanna play.

You were scared. This wasn’t a classmate, there was someone watching you— but you weren’t standing near any windows. And you didn’t see anybody in your house, but you were sure they were inside. Then you remembered, your newly installed cameras. You went back to your living room, mainly cause there was only one way to enter it— opening your phone to turn off the cameras. It wasn’t working.

The app is currently getting reworked and will be up October 13th 12:00am.

For fucks sake.You frustratedly groaned before peeking around a corner, you retreated to your room— going straight in and closing the door behind you. You went to call the police, suddenly feeling a hand go over your mouth and knock the phone out your hand. You were scared yes, fighting until you felt the cold metal against the nap of your neck.

A sigh came from your attacker, looking up to see the white mask— making your blood run cold. You didn’t put up much of a fight. I was so excited. Excited? You couldn’t focus, shaking out of fear before feeling him caress the side of your face. You wanted to scream, but it was too risky— even if someone noticed; he would probably be home free by the time they busted open your door. I’m gonna uncover your mouth Y/N. If you scream well. I think you know what will happen— won’t you? You swallowed in fear, nodding hesitantly before he uncovered it, his hands moving down to yours— holding both in one of his. He taped them tightly together and pushed you on your bed. You suddenly started crying, realizing you could very well be dead by tonight.

Oh don’t cry Y/N, I’m not gonna hurt you. Not at all. Not even for the world. Then what do you want? You of course. You were confused, realizing who the voice belonged to. This whole time, you were being nice and friendly with a murderer. Ethan..? He pulled his mask off, flashing you a smile— caressing your cheek. It’s me princess. You don’t know how much trouble I went through to make this happen you know? All just to see your pretty face. As scared as you were, you always liked Ethan and had feelings for him— not like this though. He leaned in, rubbing your exposed thighs in your shorts— without thinking leaning into his soft hands before snapping out of it; making him smile. You liked that didn’t you. Why would I like a freak like you? You think I don’t see when you clench your thighs together anytime I leaned in a little too close? Or hear when you touched yourself when I gave you my jacket. You gulped. How did he know? Was he really this obsessed over you? Stalking you whenever you walked home? All those guys you were suppose to go on a date with, who do you think protected you from their horrible intentions with you? I did. You always look at over guys. Except for me.

He would lean in, you trying to scoot away— only pulling you back towards him by your thigh. You yelped, falling onto your back— him leaning over and pinning you down under him. You looked up at him with scared but entranced eyes. It turned him on. He roughly kissed you, it taking a second to kiss back. You didn’t want to let your heart be the downfall of you right now, trying to think of all the guys he’s killed.. for you.

Maybe he was trying to protect you from whatever scheme these other guys had with you. You mind suddenly went hazy at him biting your lip, a soft moan coming from you as he pulled away. I want to be the only one for you Y/N. You don’t need them, you only need me. He said cutting up your shirt and shorts leaving you exposed as you gasped when he kissed up and down your exposed skin— pulling out soft whimpers from you.

He sat up, taking off his costume— slightly drooling at his abs; wanting to see what else could be under the black pants he was wearing. He held your thighs over his shoulders, kissing your clit and making you shudder. He hungrily licked up and down your pussy, your hands finding their way to his curls and tugging on them. You moaned out, probably loud enough for your neighbors to hear.

Holy shit Ethan. You— I only wanna hear you crying my name out for everyone on this block to know who I am baby. He said, before continuing on with devouring your pussy. It wasn’t long before you came, squishing Ethan between your thighs— them falling on either side of his head. You felt him move, his tip gently opening apart your pussy lips. Shit, I cant hold back anymore Eth— He pushed in, splitting you apart on his dick— a whimper coming from him. Oh god, you feel so much better than I imagined. He groaned, pulling out and watching your pussy clench around nothing before pushing back in and starting a pace. He pulled your face to his and kissed you in a messy heat, crying out in between the kiss how good he felt.

Such a fucking slut. Letting a sick fuck like me come and fuck your pretty pussy like this? Huh? You whined in response, earning you a slap on your face. Answer me. I’m a slut! A fucking whore just for you Ethan! He took out his phone, recording you from head to toe crying on his dick— your sense of humility too far gone to care. You clenched around him tightly, earning a deep low groan from him. Gonna cum soon princess? Yes! Please let me cum please. He got his knife, etching his name into your hip— making you shake and cry from the pain.

His phone caught the image of you crying on his dick, your back arched and blood dripping down your hip and thigh onto him. He came deep inside, making you whimper as he pulled out and kissed your stomach— licking up your blood before cleaning you up and bandaging your hip up.

Did I do too much? No. I loved it. Also are you on the pill? I wasn’t really— Yes I am Ethan calm down. He sighed and smiled as you laughed at him, kissing before he started to get up from your bed. You should stay with me here, since it’s my birthday. He sighed,smiling at you with adoration

I cant deny it if it’s for your birthday.

[obsidiancreates]

Memory In The Froglight

(Shared Souls AU is back babey)

Shepherd shakes his head. “This is gonna be a fuckin’ disaster.”

“I can’t watch.” Felix pulls his hat down over his eyes. “Poor guy never gets a break.”

“Whattya talkin’ about?” Skrimm is perched up on Torbek’s shoulder, mimicking a preparatory neck rub. Torbek feels nothing, of course, nor hears. “He’s gonna kill it!”

“The crowd?” Marius eyes Skrimm’s proximity to the Witchlight canisters.

“Not the crowd, sheesh, are you ever not a downer?” Skrimm nudges nothing but air with his elbow– the habits of Life, where he would have someone for the joke to either land or fall flat with, still a part of him even after all this time. “He’s gonna do great! It’s in his soul!”

“Skrimm.” Shepherd knocks his hat brim up with one knuckle. “I know you ain’t the most attentive–”

“Nor clear-minded,” Marius mutters.

“Or intellectual,” Felix shrugs. 

“All I’m sayin’ is,” Shepherd says, “Torbek ain’t great with crowds.”

“And? I’m tellin’ ya, this guy has a showman somewhere deep down in there!”

“You’re just saying that because you two sound most alike,” Marius says, quirking an eyebrow.

“When you get stressed your voice fully turns into his,” Felix adds, gesturing at Torbek.

“Which means the opposite can also happen. He can have my lovely and beautiful voice if he tries.”

The other three share skeptical looks just as a bullywug pops in with offers of Song Syrup.

“Don’t need it,” Skrimm says confidently.

“Take two,” Felix says.

Torbek hears nothing. “Torbek is beyond help.”

“Killed by a hag over a theatre play.” Marius’s expression is sour. “I’m still unconvinced that we didn’t fall back into Druskenwald.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Uh, just a word of waaarning, remember that nothing rhymes with orange, purple, or silver. Don’t fall for that trap twice, Torbek!”

“Orange? What about uh, doorhinge?”

“That’s-that’s a cheap cop-out. Get outta here, Frost.”

“HA! Look at that, he’s learning!” Skrimm claps his hands together and then rubs them in preparation. “He’s got this!”

“Did either of you know Skrimm had such a… fondness, for Theatre?” Marius asks his companions.

Shepherd shrugs. “Makes enough sense I suppose…”

“Skrimm.” Felix can’t remember the last time he provided this much input on one of Skrimm’s… episodes? Moments of enthusiasm? Manic switch-ups from despair to optimism? “Do you have a background in this kind of thing?”

“You kiddin’? My friends and I put on the best play Drakkar has ever seen! No-one has topped it in the last thousand years, I’m sure of it.”

“Y’all put on a play… in Drakkar.” Shepherd crosses his arms. “Is this like how you’re sure you were six-foot-five and two hundred pounds before yer death?”

“This is way more real- I mean, I was, but that’s not the point! I was Mr. Bones, and I was so professional it’d blow your ass right off your body!”

The three others share skeptical glances again.

“Just watch!” Skrimm scrambles back as the curtain rises. “Torbek’s got that skill, I can feel it in my bones!”

Felix sighs deeply. “You don’t have bones anymore.”

“My ghost bones.”

“... Sure.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So did it just fix his tone-deafness, or did it actually change Frost’s voice?” Felix watches from where he sits on the bottom of the box-tower as Torbek waits to be rolled onto the stage.

Shepherd shrugs, and Marius shakes his head, unknowing.

“Ah.” Skrimm has his arms crossed, one foot tap-tap-tapping so quickly that if he was physical he’d be wearing a hole into the soggy wood of the floor. “Maybe the big guy should’ve taken one of those. I mean I still think he’s got this but, that was pretty damn good. Stupid cat.”

The tower is rolled out, the tiny curtain covering Torbek’s face parted. His ever-present and ever-imperceptible spirit companions wait with baited breath. 

“Uuuunnnnggggghhhhh, it’s Torbek’s time to shi-ine!”

“Not a promising start,” Marius whispers. “Please let him do well enough to live…”

“Torbek is playing Princess Torbeka toniiight!”

“Oh, phew.” Skrimm wipes his brow. “Good thing he remembered to tell the crowd who he is! Heh, that was almost a terrible misstep.”

“Almost?!” Felix brings his hat low over his eyes, unable to watch.

Torbek brings out a tiny tin whistle and blows a single note. “Torbek Torbek Torbek, Torbek

Torbek Torbek!”

“Ain’t you supposed to do them warmups offstage?” Shepherd looks at Skrimm, who’s just nodding in invisible encouragement.

“What? No, ya take your script out there with you, you do your warmups, you embody your character! Me and my friends did our whole play without any rehearsal! Total dry ru– … Mostly dry. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

Torbek takes a deep breath. Everyone but Skrimm braces.

“... Miiidnight, not a sound from the paaavement, has the moon lost her mem-ry, Torbeka’s smiling a-lone…”

In the wings, Frost’s jaw is dropped wide open, and Felix, Shepherd, and Marius are hardly different. Skrimm, however, whoops and jups as high as his little goblin legs allow, swinging a celebratory fist in front of him.

“In the lamp-light the withered leave, collect at her feeeeet… and the wind, begins to moan…”

“He’s got… range.” Marius blinks in pure befuddlement. 

“Where’d all his gargglin’ an’ rasp go?” Shepherd walks up, unseen as he is by the audience, and peers at the Witchlight canisters sticking out from Torbek’s princess costume. “These ain’t lowered…”

“I’m tellin’ ya, goblins are made for theatre,” Skrimm boasts, scrambling up Torbek’s back and sitting between his shoulders triumphantly. “I was the only one who stayed on script the whole time! Even when it was weird and perverted and definitely not me misunderstanding what pump meant.”

“What?”

“Forget it.”

Torbek takes a deep breath. “Mem-ry, all alone in the mooooonlight! Torbeka dreams of the old days, life was beau-tiful theeen…”

A pang of grief and nostalgia strikes the hearts of all in the theatre, living and dead. Shepherd looks towards Gricko, no, around Gricko, wondering what Sarnax must be thinking of this play his… ward, of sorts, has written. Marius looks to Frost, wondering how Lethica’s voice might sound singing a tune such as Torbek sings now. Felix can’t see Kremy, backstage somewhere preparing for his own part, but he imagines Toa is away from Kremy’s side to watch the show, smiling wide. 

Skrimm looks out at the living vessels his friends all follow, and hopes they’re remembering their play too. It was a mess, a haphazard disaster thrown together in the ruins of a beautiful and warm lethal lie turned to rubble– and it was the most fun they’d had in months by that time.

“Let the mem-ry, live a-gaiiiin.”

As long as Torbek has a better understanding of the intent of the stage directions than Skrimm did, this might shape up to be even better than Ogreton’s Last Play.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Wow, Jornir!” Toa nudges the firbolg next to him, applauding for no-one but his ghostly companions. “Isn’t this play great so far?”

“It is… certainly better than what we did.” 

“You did a play too?! I wish we could’ve done a play. Someday when we all reunite, let’s all put one on together.”

“That would be… very crowded.” Jornir watches Torbek cover his mouth with exaggerated shock as Hootsie pulls out the red scarves tied around rat snacks from the snake costumes. He gestures to Torbek. “That, makes it easy to see Skrimm, in the bugbear.”

“The overractin’?” Briggsy laughs a little to himself, having only Clayton to elbow for his ‘get-the-joke?’ movement as Clayton watches with more Confusion than anything else.

“Yes.” 

“Oh. … No fun when you agree, you know.”

“I am not trying to be… fun. You are right. Skrimm is… animated. Loud, and… bold. I did not think, I would see it here, in this life.” Jornir… smiles, just slightly, barely enough to tell. “It is… nice, to remember.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“AYE, GOOD JOB LADS!” Barnabos cheers and pulls Jericho and Sarnax into one-armed hugs, pressing both to his side as he bellows proudly. “LOOK AT OUR MR. GRIMGRIN! HA-HA, AS FINE AS A TALE AS TROTHACK SHARK-PUNCHER’S SEVEN VOYAGES!” 

“I-I do like the jaunty tunes!” Jericho’s fingers move like they would if he was playing his banjo along with the pit orchestra. “And everyone’s singin’ real nice! I never did hear Sir Marius or-or Lethica carryin’ a tune!”

“Nor I, Shepherd.” Sarnax’s tail comes up to slap Barnabos’s shoulder, in reminder more than annoyance, and Barnabos loosens his grip for Sarnax to slip out. “I wonder how he is feeling, watching this unfold.”

“Aye, not the kind of travels for singin’, you two had.” Barnabos laughs, pointing at Torbek. “An’ look at that! That’s a Mr. Stabbaskotch expression if I’ve ever seen one! Some of us migh’ bleed through to the living after all!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daisy is laughing, leaning on Lethica as she watches the tube-sock-costumes Kremy, Gricko, and Gideon all “disemboweled” by Sir Morgo Hootise as Torbeka watches in shock. The silent shaking sets off Caprice as well, who’d gone from despaired horror to elation as soon as Frost’s song-syruped voice had melted the tension of the audience with it’s shocking beauty. 

Lethica is not mirthless herself, imagining Marius in Torbek’s place, and when Daisy raises her hands for a moment to sign “He looks just like Skrimm,” she knows she’s not the only one picturing another life, another time.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taishen is laughing well, but there’s a hint of worry to his expression as he eyes Torbek.

“Is something wrong?” Yorgrim casts a careful eye of his own over the crowds. 

“Oh, nothing… too, terrible.” Taishen shuffles his feet. “Its just, Torbek is reminding me quite a lot of Skrimm right now, not with the singing Skrimm couldn’t sing that well, but well, when we did our play things went a little…”

Yorgrim waits as Taishen looks in the distance, trying to find a careful way to phrase things.

“... Skrimm was very confused, about some things.” Taishen shivers. “Very, very confused. And Torbek isn’t a stranger to… confusion…”

“... Did someone die?”

Taishen thinks back to how he’d felt towards Skrimm in that moment of revelation. “... Almost.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Least Kremy’s stickin’ to the script.” Queenie stands on top of Twig’s hat to have a good view of the play from the wings. “Jornir sure didn’.”

“I thought you were all stranded in an icy wasteland,” Iris looks down at Queenie, even with Queenie standing on Twig’s head.

“Yeah but we did a play anyway, for the ogres.” Queenie looks at Torbek. “Skrimm probably did the best up until he had to pump his fist.”

“Pump his fist?”

“Yeah, he thought it meant pumpin��� his pe–”

“Eugh!”

“Do they really think this will work?” Strahdanya looks up to the hag in the box. “If they send Twig to us early…”

“I’m sure if she dies, they died hours ago,” Queenie says. “She’s a tough one.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Torbek sings his second song about the (allegedly) murdered Agdon Longscarf, Skrimm grins smugly down at the other three from atop Torbek’s back. “Told you he’d do well.”

“I hate when he’s right,” Felix huffs.

Marius nods in agreement. “A thankfully rare occasion.”

Shepherd snorts, watching Torbek finish up as Skrimm starts to huff and puff at Marius’s insult. The applause of the crowd drowns out the offended shouting of the goblin as Torbek steps back from the spotlight. Maybe things might work out for this band of chucklefucks after all.

[prettyyyathieee]

✧˖°.Rin Itoshi Is Your Unpursued Love.✧˖°.

A/n : Have any of you guys had a crush that you never confessed to? Yeah this is kinda inspired by true events that I never got over but yk what? I feel like Rin is the type of person to be like this.

Warnings ⚠️: Curse words! Very much angsty!

·�� ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi liked your best friend first.

Nobody knew but Rin Itoshi had a crush on your best friend. Who didn’t? She was the happy-go-lucky type that befriended everyone. She had the energy you could never match. She was the golden retriever girl that always saw the best in people, that always knew to comfort and feel their feelings.

She was the girl who would not stop pestering the cold and passive Rin Itoshi who never wanted to be bothered. And just like that, he caught feelings for a girl that would give him more happiness than he deserved.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi was miserable.

From the sidelines you watch as the boy fell deeper and deeper, only able to notice because silence had things that were never achievable in the slightest noise. The way he would always notice she was near, the upturned smirk as he threw a small dig at her jokingly, something he never did to anyone. You had thought something very big was unfolding, and you were right. although, for the wrong reason.

Your best friend got a boyfriend. You felt pity for him. You knew since the first day about the guy but thought nothing of it. By this point, everyone knew Rin Itoshi had feelings for your best friend. After all, what kind of person throws punches at walls and picks fights with random people in the hallway after someone loudly teased your best friend about her supposed boyfriend.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi is the most talented person you know.

He was good at a lot of things if he tried. Hard emphasis on the “if” because he never tried in anything except soccer. He lived and breathed soccer, and everyone would be damned if he didn’t because that kind of talent only ever came once in a century. Nevertheless, there were days he tried. 

Like when he passed a project for your art class, a beautiful canvass of something only the great Claude Monet could ever paint. Like when he began to be a little competitive for a group contest just because he didn’t want to be on the losing group and leading his team to victory, and of course nobody could ever forget the famous debate that ended after the first 30 seconds because he had said the most damning words that made everyone question if he had a religion.

Yet, you knew most out of everyone how insecure he was, perhaps even more than your best friend because once again, you were loved by silence. You knew of the fact that he thought he was the least deserving person when it comes to your best friend when every girl in your class would fight each other for his attention. How he looked up to his older brother so much that he sometimes stalks his social media accounts, how he believed he was truly lacking, truly undeserving of many things because he wasn’t enough for him.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi noticed you because of your similarity with your best friend.

Your best friend wouldn’t be your best friend without the same interests and hobbies. When he started reading these deep romance novels that hooked him into reading for hours, you were the first to give him recommendations. How you had such an understanding and kind view towards everyone, even those who wronged you. How you had the same mannerisms as your best friend that he could bet it was influenced by one another.

He saw how driven you were, he admired your passion towards everything you set your mind to. He knew it was genuine because he saw the fire in your eyes that he could see in himself in the mirror, that he could see in his teammates and opponents alike. 

But perhaps, you were far more passionate than him.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi admired you from afar

Sitting at the back of your best friend’s chair, he focused on your happy smiling face as you and your best friend conversed about the mistakes in your exam. You looked back and noticed him, the same exact upturned smirk. 

“What is it?” You asked, still smiling.

He shook his head, turning to face his own exam.

As you had established a more subtle and formal relationship with Itoshi after your best friend did, you couldn’t help but notice the way he’d be around you more. Picking you as his group member, which he always excused as you were the type to be hardworking, then always wanting to sit beside you, which he also excused as ‘you’re quiet, less disruptive than everyone here’, before plugging his earphones and leaning on his table.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi gave your best friend a chance.

It didn’t happen within a snap of a finger, a month or two passed and your best friend was going through a break up. Why didn’t it affect her like those in the movies was a question you always asked yourself. But you already knew the answer, you just didn’t want to believe it. 

It also happened when you were absent, sick as a dog in your room. 

Even so, Rin Itoshi was…happy. Everyone knew of the break up, and everyone knew of Rin’s feelings. So that happened. 

The day you were finally well enough to go to school, though a bit late, they weren’t present. It was then that you caught word that they were out on a date. 

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi never knew how to approach you.

Everything he did to get close to you was always dismissed as him trying to befriend you for your best friend or because everybody knew you were the kind of person that was hard to hate. So instead, your every interaction had a purpose– a business-like approach. He didn’t go out of his way to make things easier for you or talked to you about your interests and hobbies because he just didn’t know how to. 

You weren’t like your best friend, you weren’t easy smiles, occasional giggles or just have the “approachable vibe" within you. You didn’t approach him that much either, just for necessities which made him believe he could never catch your attention.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi was the farthest thing from slick

Him and your best friend weren’t together officially. Far from it actually, there were no boundaries or talking of feelings at all. They just acknowledged each other as someone they want to spend time with.

Yet why was it that whenever you were alone outside of the room he would catch himself sitting outside as well. Why was it that when you both were in the room, you were the first and last person he would look for. Why was it that he looked for your name in every class event, groupings and projects.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi never confessed.

It continued until the end of the school year. As a graduating student and moving places for a college nowhere near you, it was probably the last time you would meet some of your classmates.

As a graduating student who had no need for college after being recruited into a national youth team for soccer, Rin Itoshi was destined for big things. 

As the day came closer and closer, you hoped to god there was some sort of closure, some sort of words that needed to be said, some goddamn f*cking spine to have one last moment with him.

Alas, Rin Itoshi never confessed that he liked you more than your best friend.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Rin Itoshi did not have you in his small and numbered list.

Diplomas were handed out, medals were clanging on each other, the smell of roses from the bouquets and the money from money sashes was all you could focus on until you saw him in the middle of everyone. Looking directly at you.

You shot him a smile as you left to go find your parents, feeling hurt and distressed.

Rin Itoshi watched as you walked away, quite possibly the first and last time you ever will in his and your life. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret at the thought of still having enough time and chance to run towards you and talk.

Yet it seems he wasn’t destined for you. That was what he thought as he stood like a marble statue in the same area you found him, devoid of emotion. His hands hanging limp from his side and his mouth turning dry. 

He dismissed the wetness of his eyes from the harsh shade of sunlight.

Then he, too, walked away.

What could have been:

Right outside, after watching you for a couple of minutes take pictures with every person you knew, he found himself walking towards you. With a bouquet in your hand, he watched as a boy, a boy he wasn’t familiar with, had his arms around you, holding a v-shape up with his fingers with a giddy smile on his face, taking a picture with you.

As soon as you both separated, he was quick to grab your wrist and lead you to a place where nobody could hear or see you.

It wasn’t a romantic place at all. It was dark, damp and smelly. You turned your hopeful eyes to him, praying to god it would be something that’ll clear everything up.

Yet he didn’t speak at all. Frustrated, you turned to leave.

To your confusion, you felt something warm and rushed behind you. Then, arms hesitatingly embraced you from behind.

“What about her?” You asked, feeling so dumbfounded yet so comforted at the fact that you were right all along, he like likes you. Just like how you like liked him.

Rin Itoshi buried his face at the top of your head before he spoke “Things between us stopped weeks ago…did she not tell you?”

“...no” you said, breathless and tearing up. Your hands found their way into his, encasing them as if wanting to lock him into this position with you.

Yet you knew what this moment meant. 

Before Rin Itoshi could imprint this moment in his memories he felt something slide through his wrist. Opening his eyes, it was a white bracelet. 

You forcefully remove yourself from his grip. Turning back to look at him properly.

“Goodbye, Rin Itoshi.”

You beamed at him. That was the last time he saw you.

[stromuprisahat]

Hey,

Could you do a meta on the similarities between Labyrinth (1986) and the Shadow and Bone Trilogy? I read through that one scene (Alina and Darkling Interactions on your blog) between Alina and the Darkling after her and Mal get captured and Alina has to bargain for his life and they speak about fairness and the way the public views them both (Chapter 21 of the first book, I believe). I vaguely remembered this type of conversation from another piece of media, and saw in your tags that you attributed it to Labyrinth. Honestly wondering how much the movie influenced the trilogy, as I feel like Alina was supposed to be a Sarah Williams type of character but got her character development strangled by the narrative. Honestly wondering if this makes Mal Toby (romance aside), because Alina fought hard for this man and chose him over the ‘glamorous’ life she could have lived with the guy with powers (Darkling/Jareth). Genya might be Hoggle (works for the bad guy before becoming loyal to the protagonist). Maybe this is all a stretch?

Sorry if this is weirdly formatted. Thank you so much!

No anon! Why?!

I've watched Labyrinth once, and didn't enjoy it, so I was considering passing this on someone else, but since you've delved into details, I just HAD TO rewatch it, because I can't stand not knowing what's going on! So, I'll type as a watch and this will get veeeeeery long.

First of all- I hate those ugly-ass puppets and scenes. I find them creepy, and not in the good way. I totally don't get the ?US? obsession with them, and yes- I've hated Sesame Street, when it got imported here, and I've always hated Czech attempts at copying such production (Táhni, Františku z Fanfárie a Jůheláci taky, když už jsme u toho.).

I feel like Labyrinth is one of those movies, where fanon became widely-accepted canon, because I just can't see plenty of stuff allegedly present.

Alina and Sarah certainly have two things in common- they live in their own version of the world, and they're unbearably immature spoiled brats, even though you'd expect more from them their age considered. Yet somehow, Sarah's so unreasonably whiny, she almost makes me love Alina. Perhaps if we'd age her up a little and gave her potentially world-saving powers, she could've taken the S02show!psycho's place. They seem more alike than the book girl.

I mean... I don't like children, and I wouldn't be such a bitch to a ?one? year old...

The baby was a spoiled child and wanted everything for himself…

The baby can barely stand and certainly doesn't seem able to talk. It doesn't have mental capacity to imagine "everything", sure as hell not want it.

…and the young girl was practically a slave.

Sorry, but a scene earlier I saw her room. I watch her father respect her privacy. Her evil step mother being nothing but polite and non-threatening. I come from a loving family, and I've been keeping eye on my eight-years-younger brother since he was born. To an extent- yes, but they just want her to make sure he doesn't burn down the house on accident or something. He's even fed for fuck's sake! That's hardly slavery. And no, she doesn't get a pass as a moody teenager. This is a spoiled brat behaviour.

Sarah's straight up lying to make herself the victim. That's very Alina. Or more precisely- it's very Alina's new mommy Ol' Bags, but then again it's been said before Alina would grow into Baghra in time.

Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be… …take this child of mine far away from me!

We have a better Czech ballad about children-stealing demon punishing short-tempered mother:

"Pojď si proň, ty Polednice, pojď, vem si ho, zlostníka!“ – A hle, tu kdos u světnice dvéře zlehka odmyká.

Kytice- Polednice (Karel Jaromír Erben)

“Come and get him, noon witch, come take him! I can bear no more!” And look, someone’s outside – a thumb is stealthily working the lock at the door.

A Bouquet: of Czech Folktales (transl. by Marcela Malek Sulak)

I went through it quickly, and the translation doesn't look bad, so it's available on libgen if you're interested.

Alina had her immortality and complementary powers, but what does Jareth see in Sarah is beyond me.

Sarah says she wants her brother back, but honestly- it sounds more like she doesn't want to get in trouble because of him. I don't know if it's only the acting, or if it's intentionally portrayed so, but she doesn't look like someone, who just realized they care about someone else.

It might be the whiny undertone in her voice. Irritating, if anything.

Yeah, a pissing puppet is exactly what I needed to see...

Genya is certainly prettier than Hoggle.

And doesn't piss in public.

The walls of the Labyrinth look like Terezín before reconstruction.

Sarah gets an advice and doesn't bother to delve into it. Another tiny similarity with Alina. Except Alina had her half-a-thought of doubt, and her advisor is a malevolent cunt with her own interests. The freaky worm seemed genuine in its desire to help.

Obligatory song and dancing. *shoot me, please*

The only way out of here is to try one of these doors. One of them leads to the castle at the centre of the labyrinth. And the other one leads to… …certain death.

Please, pick the death one...

"Helping hands"... every creep's wet dream...

Yeah, the evil hot accent isn't enough to make me like this villain. Fucking 80s...

Those depressive warning faces are probably the only thing I might even ~like~.

Okay, NOW he was hot.

Jareth and Sarah have the fairness conversation, when he shortens her time to punish her for her defiance. Aleksander and Alina's take place, when he wants her to face consequences of her own actions and accept responsibility. He's the wronged one there, because she didn't consider anyone or anything, when she chose to trust Baghra and ran off.

Sarah gets Hoggle to follow her by stealing his stuff. She gets the doorknockers to let her in by tricking the mumbling one into taking the unpleasant ring back into his mouth and doesn't even try to pull it out again, or knock without it attached. She's rather cruel in her thoughtlessness, isn't she?

Aleksander never shames Genya for wanting to be Alina's friend. He never blackmails her to help him. She's the one, who provokes his rightful wrath for no good reason.

I think Jareth might be what LB (sometimes) wants us to see in Aleksander. Except it's hardly what she shows by his actions, only what her characters describe.

Another difference- Aleksander doesn't only want Alina, he needs her for his plan to save his people. Jareth merely has the worst possible taste in women.

Okay, the dog making hoof-clopping noises also isn't the worst idea.

I'm kinda sorry Aleksander never tried to poison/drug Alina. That might be fun. Even the collaring couldn't really make her compliant, so he's technically nicer even in this aspect. I can see antis claiming he tried to woo her by showing her the splendor of Little Palace and giving her the centre role in Winter Fete, but the former wasn't different from Grisha in officer training, the later was the Crown's doing. He's even said to despise such events.

Sarah is a modern teenager. Alina's considered adult in her world. I got to the ball scene, where it's painfully obvious Sarah is a child in adult's clothes and make-up. I'm a bit surprised she was played by an actual teenager.

Alina starts off willing to do anything for Malyen, and ends up becoming just what he wants. Sarah starts off selfishly bullying a baby, only to turn 180° as soon as he's stolen, so excuse I'm not persuaded she means it. She doesn't manage it in next hour and half.

~ I have to face him alone. - But why? ~ Because that's the way it's done.

The logic is very Alina, but she never insists on facing the Darkling alone, except that one time she attempts murder/suicide.

Oh no, Aleksander would never wear something this teAsticleless

And no, I truly don't mean the colour.

I ask for so little. Just let me rule you… …and you can have everything that you want. Just fear me, love me, do as I say… …and I will be your slave.

Again, that's no Aleksander at all. He didn't want to rule Alina, he wanted to rule alongside her. He only tried to force her once she endangered his plans for his country and people.

He never promised her everything she's want, because the only thing she seems to want is to be left alone to live in obscurity with no expectations placed on her.

He doesn't want her to fear him and she never does. He doesn't even crave people's fear. He uses it as a tool, when there's no better option.

He doesn't mind Alina defying him, finds it attractive actually, as long as it doesn't ruin- once again- his plans for Ravka and Grisha protection.

The slave line actually reminds me of much better representation of book!Aleksander- I Wanna Be Your Slave by Måneskin.

I was pretty sure I've seen Cinema Therapy episode on Labyrinth I deeply agreed with, but can't find it, so... :(

[ineffablyruined]

On this episode of things that keep me up at night:

I wonder if we'll get a mirror of how Aziraphale was manipulated by the Metatron, but with Crowley, in s3.

Picture it:

Crowley's only friend for the last 6000 years has just rejected him and left him behind.

Lucifer shows up with a bottle of gin, which, okay it's not his favorite, but the thought is nice, right? And whatever he has to say must be super important for the Devil himself to show up just to speak with a demon with no affiliation to Hell.

And he starts praising Crowley. How right Crowley was to stop the first Armageddon, even if Lucifer hadn't seen it at the time. Hell was understaffed after all, they would have been decimated. How strategic Crowley's mind is. How brilliant he'd been at his temptations.

The Second Coming will wipe out Earth and demons alike. And wouldn't Crowley consider coming back to Hell to work with him to stop it again? They need someone with experience stopping these things, someone who knows how the Earth works better than anyone.

And then he starts talking about how toxic Heaven is. How he heard that Crowley's angel compatriot returned to the fold. How worried Crowley must be about his friend.

If Crowley will just come back, Lucifer will make sure that nothing happens to the angel. Hell will guarantee that if Aziraphale falls (through no fault of his own, of course, it's just that Heaven is so fickle like that, just look at Crowley's own fall), or even if he doesn't fall, but just needs a safe harbour from Heaven, he will have a safe place waiting for him in Hell. Protected.

Maybe it feels just like hanging out with Luci and the guys all those ages ago before the Fall, before the War. Maybe someone actually wants him around.

How is he supposed to turn down help saving the world when his usual partner is gone? How is he supposed to turn down an offer of safety for Aziraphale if it all goes sideways, like he knows Heaven will.

And maybe later he understands how Aziraphale could have gone back to Heaven, because he just did the same thing with Hell.

[bubbipond]

Ranting this late in the day should be a crime but I am exhausted by the people in the BL/GL community.

Have any of you seen those videos on YouTube that are like basically talking about the persons least favorite pairings? I just watched one where they said force and book look too similar to play love interest. I’m sorry but the way that is insanely racist and just not true??? Then I saw in the comment section of a different one people saying that Phuwin should stop acting in bl’s because he obviously dislikes kissing men. Then the rest of the videos are just really bullying these actors. Listen, I’m all for criticism, but these videos aren’t constructive. Normally they are just mean and vile.

There are pairings that I don’t love so I don’t watch them. I wasn’t the biggest fan of Kinnporsche but I promise you I do not go around saying mean things about Mile or Apo. But let me address the ones that I just find extremely rude.

Number one Force and Book look nothing alike. I have never had an issue telling them apart because they have such vastly different features. I think a lot of criticism for them stems from their original series being super annoying and Books character irritating a lot of people. That wasn’t a Force and Book problem that was a writing problem. There is a long history of racism in Asian communities. Where a very popular joke is you can’t tell them apart. I’ve heard it in real life, in the K-pop scene, in anime and dramas, and now in BL, I guess. Now don’t get me wrong, there are actors who I feel would play brothers amazingly because of similarities. But Force and Book are not one of them., at least not in the case of being “almost twins” like this person was saying.

Moving onto the Phuwin comment, I think this one is so stupid because he does not have to take BL jobs. Actors stop doing these all the time. Pairings dissolve and new ones come around all the time. Also pairings dissolve and the actors stop doing BL’s as a whole. We have seen it countless times. so if he really didn’t want to have to have intimate scenes with a man, he definitely does not have to. Now let me say, I do understand the critique about the way he kisses but I don’t agree with it being just blatantly because he is kissing a guy. If you watched him in the non-BL series he has been in, where he has had a partner who is a woman, you would know that’s just how Phuwin kisses. If you were really trying to give good criticism, that has to be paired with you paying attention. If you watch how he talks and how his mouth moves, whether he’s in a show or talking in real life, his mouth movements when he kisses makes sense. Also keep in mind, and this is not a slight at him, but he has very skinny lips. So when he’s kissing Pond whose lips aren’t big, but they’re bigger than his obviously it’s not going to look like he’s doing as much. But to try and low-key say that he has some repressed homophobia because you don’t enjoy his acting is weird. Also keep in mind, and I’ve joked about this before, this pairing almost always end up playing characters where Ponds character is seemingly more into the relationship than Phuwins characters. Not that his characters don’t care, but it’s almost always pond being the character that has an egregious amount of affection for Phuwins character.

I honestly don’t normally watch videos like these, but I clicked on it just because they were discussing a lot of popular pairings. and in my head, I was just like oh you’re doing this for views. There is no way this is for any other reason when every pairing you have chosen to talk about are highly popular pairings. You mean to tell me out of all the ones do you want to talk about the ones with the biggest fan bases and I’m supposed to believe that you aren’t just trying to get views on your page?

This is coming from somebody who doesn’t even particularly love half of the pairings this person discussed. But something I have noticed is that in a fandom/world of media dealing with oppressed peoples, there is bigger critique than in its counterparts. Because not only are these shows about a group of people who have long been suppressed due to sexuality, but it’s also about a group of people who have history of racism against their cultures. It is okay for a series to not be the most expressive and beautiful and extravagant series on earth. It is okay for things to be mediocre at best. Because even the LGBTQ+ community have very very boring stories. That does not make the stories unworthy of being told. We are allowed as a community and as queer people to have media the same way as everyone else. But instead, we get these very dismissive and low-key weird and social relationships in media.

Okay thank you for coming to another TEDTalk…I hate a lot of you and a lot of you are weirdos. (:

[marshmallowprotection]

Snapshot

Pairing: Saeyoung/Judas/Minji (Saeyoung/Original Male Character/Original Female Character) Description: To be caught in the act—that was what he wanted all along. Word Count: 11,859 [Read on AO3]

“You’re looking tense, darling ,” the words didn’t come as underhanded as they might have weeks prior. “If you don’t do something to fix that, you’re bound to turn into the next David. As much as I wouldn’t mind an art installation to give this bunker of yours some character and charm, I dare say your interests would prefer you to do something to correct this before it’s too late.” 

Luciel drew in a breath. He didn’t bother to look over his shoulder as Judas gave him his opinion. Frankly, he never thought he’d lower his guard down enough to let this guy get close to him. 

But, he was in too deep to turn back. This person was supposed to be no different than any of the other hostages he’d interacted with in the agency over the years.

The agency made deals with people to milk them for what they were worth and then as soon as they had what they wanted, they’d get rid of them so they could move resources to the next guy. Judas was supposed to be six feet under already, at least, that’s what his handler Vanderwood would’ve preferred, anyway. 

Vanderwood might’ve gone out on a limb to keep him from being killed a few times because it was to his benefit to make sure the brat under his charge didn’t go against their agency, but that kind of “kindness” could only go so far. He was the type to get down and dirty to take care of a small problem before it could become a big problem. Even if that meant he had to do something unsavory to save his skin. 

It wasn’t personal, he’d say, it was me or them, and I knew better than to choose anyone but myself. 

Luciel knew it was only a matter of time until his old handler decided to torture the information the agency wanted out of Judas until they had nothing left to hide before dumping his body somewhere nobody would think to look.

It was something he had done more times than he could count given how many years he spent in the agency as their puppet. It was the same fate that awaited Luciel someday given how readily he took the offer to sell his soul for his brother’s safety. 

That wasn’t to say he hadn’t been forced to do unforgivable things already but not yet had he been forced to take the life of another person he was allowed to “get to know” in cold blood. 

Luciel could justify the wrongdoings the agency made him do because he knew most of the targets he had to go after were men with less-than-savory pasts. That was the name of the game. People would hire the agency to clean someone out of house and home to ensure they didn’t lose their gravy train. 

They would take down anyone in their path, both innocents and enemies alike. 

Fortunately, he hadn’t been told to get rid of anyone who didn’t deserve it. He could reason with himself again and again that if he took care of those men, others would be able to live in peace. It wouldn’t stop the man who gave the order to get rid of them, but it would rid the world of one nuisance before another inevitably paid to get rid of the first one. 

But, Judas? They weren’t one of those unruly men… not by any means, and that was the most dangerous part. Neither horrible nor perfect.

To be undefinable was to spit in the face of the rules of the game. Luciel’s job was to consider the targets he was meant to “get rid of” as nothing more than “disposable trash”. It was easier to quantify them as cruel, monstrous people who were better off dead. That was the only way to reasonably stare at his hands whenever he was forced with a choice that said “them or you”.  

From the moment they met, Luciel could tell that the informant put up a front to make others believe his lies. His smile didn’t reach their eyes. 

He talked of big games and pursuits that would make any normal man squeamish but their eyes spoke of shame. Shame that couldn’t be washed away no matter how much he scrubbed his hands. A familiar sensation that wouldn’t go away with ease.

No different than the blood that caked Luciel’s hands after a mission that wouldn’t go away even though he pleaded with God to have mercy on him one more time. 

God never let him have that moment of peace, but that was the price of his sins, and he welcomed the pain when he chose the name Luciel. Still, he knew a liar when he saw one because he, too, was a liar… through and through. 

He made a deal with the agency to sell his soul in exchange for protection. He didn’t want the agency to kill someone for him, he wanted to sell his secrets as an informant just so he could live to see another day. An informant was willing to do whatever they had to do to sell someone out to save their own skin.

Vanderwood lived and breathed that lifestyle, too. 

But, the difference between him and Judas was that the latter had vengeance in his eyes. He wanted to get even with someone and was willing to do just about whatever he had to do to make that happen. He’d alluded to that fact when he only gave half-truths to send Vanderwood on a goose chase. 

But, better a goose chase than his life being taken from him faster than he knew what to do with himself. Luciel knew what that felt like. If he could’ve exchanged everything to get rid of his father once and for all, he would’ve taken that chance in a heartbeat. 

He wouldn’t care what came for him after that. He figured it was the same for Judas. If the world wouldn’t let him take the shot himself, he’d let the agency do it for him. But, the cost was dabbling with his life and he didn’t seem too keen on losing that yet. Not even for the deal. It was human nature to want to live to see another day, even if you had the urge to ask for a death wish instead.

The underbelly of criminals in Seoul wanted that man dead. He sold out each and every one of them without a second thought in pursuit of his main target.

He knew plenty of dirt on men who were already deep into life sentences and men who looked no different than a model on the cover of a magazine who no one was the wiser. Luciel knew it wouldn’t take much for Judas to find dirt on the prime minister if he was pointed in the right direction. 

While that would’ve benefited him, there was no way he would give up information about himself to another person at the flip of a hat. Even if it could’ve solved some of his problems to entrust his fate to an informant who may or may not have kept his mouth shut, he couldn't take the easy route and gamble his fate like that. He knew he could do what had to be done on his own even if it took forever and a day to make it happen how he needed it to. 

But, it always sat there under the tip of his tongue, especially as he and Judas explored one another in ways that would get both of them killed if the agency found out. It was far from an average relationship but… they weren’t meant to have that. 

That was why it was easier to let off some steam and toy with each other whenever the urge cropped up. But, that urge inside of his chest… had grown far stronger than it’d been when they first kissed. He hadn’t been thinking straight that day, either, but it all became clear when he felt lips pressed against his and the dizzying heat that followed. 

How could he turn down a dozen heated kisses when they washed away the sludge that tainted his hands? 

It was as if Judas understood how miserable he was whenever he was sent on a mission to take care of someone with wandering eyes that made him shiver. He could never get clean after those eyes sized him up and dressed him down on his own. 

It was one thing to fight the feeling of blood but it was another to try and erase the miserable feeling of someone’s deplorable desire. Judas seemed to know how to erase those filthy eyes and disgusting words with something that made him feel… adored . 

It was dangerous to be adored, though. 

If the wrong person found out he was fooling around with someone he was meant to get rid of, they wouldn’t just get rid of Judas. They would get rid of him or beat him to an inch of his life until he never thought about doing anything but his job until either he was killed in the line of duty or his body gave up on him.  He knew better than to do this when his life was on the line. 

But, he wanted it and it was hard to stop once he had a taste of freedom. That taste was the reason why he isolated himself long enough to lose any attachment to the outside world, but how could he say he wasn’t involved with the world when the RFA was right there and they counted against him, too?  

Luciel knew better. 

But, his heart wouldn’t budge. He was as human as anyone else, and what could anyone desire most other than a chance to know you were wanted by other people? He wanted that for Saeran but never once did he think he might want it for himself. He could be a devil who sacrificed everything if he needed to be, but the thought of being a devil who wanted it all made him shameful. He didn’t deserve it all if his brother couldn’t have it. 

But, what would his brother think if he knew Saeyoung had a real chance to taste a moment of happiness in the lifetime of sacrifice he created for himself? Would his baby brother want to see him have those five seconds even if it put him in danger? 

He knew the answer to that question but he never allowed himself to answer it because any selfishness he wove for himself would one day be their undoing. He knew that. The world would never let him indulge without making him pay the ultimate price. 

Yet, the weight of the hammer above his head hadn’t swung yet, and all he could think about at that moment was the tension in the spine that burned because Judas’ touch felt like the most savory bite of prime rib and the sticky honey of Minji’s voice made him want to be kneaded like dough. 

No matter how much he tried to convince himself that his weakness was just the man in his office, he knew he couldn’t avoid the painstaking truth. 

It wasn’t just Judas, though.

It wasn’t just the man with raven locks who seemingly knew how to cut deep and when to pierce his soul with words that needed to be said when no one else would tell them. It wasn’t just the man who pawed at his shoulders and whispered sweet nothings to “let off some steam, Luciel”, whenever he just couldn’t stop gnawing through his skin and teeth on a bad day. 

It wasn’t just the man who put thoughts into his head that he could satisfy himself without putting a label on it to be discovered as a weakness. It wasn’t just the man who kissed him like he was starved for affection just as much as he was. 

It couldn’t be as simple as that, could it?

Vanderwood warned him he could never get close to anyone in this line of work because it would only make life a lot harder on him, and yet, he couldn’t help himself. He knew what he felt was something more than what he was allowed to feel.

He was supposed to be a machine, a ruthless program, but he was a man with a desire that ached something awful when he realized how empty his chest was. 

The woman on the monitor was his lifeline to a world he could only dream of. Minji wasn’t as perplexing to his heart as Judas was. She lived in a world unlike theirs. There was nothing but kindness and love in her heart. She never had to be afraid of losing her life. The worst fear she had was not waking up in time for work, and she wouldn’t lose her life for being five minutes late to pick up a shift. 

She might get a slap on her wrist to prove a point but never anything more than a gentle tongue lashing to pay attention to the clock. Just like the rest of the RFA, Minji lived a life meant for someone who wasn’t born rotten. It was a life where she knew love, support, and compassion. It helped her to be the person she is today, the person he adored.

She lived a life of normalcy in every way imaginable. There was nothing awful about a simple life. She lived the kind of life he wished he could lead but it could only be just… that . A dream. It could forever more be nothing but a dream for a man such as himself. 

He made his choice and he had to live with it. Watching her smile and go about her day without a care in the world made Luciel desire to experience it at her side rather than at his monitor where he would never know the warmth of her touch.

Minji wouldn’t feel the same as Judas did in his arms, but that in itself wasn’t a bad thing, either. He craved both sensations as much as his lungs desired air! One taste felt like blueberries, tart and sweet as it flowed down his throat, and the other… oh, he dreamed of knowing if those lips would taste like honey and lemon. 

She was the other person who put him in a situation he knew would bring nothing but strife to his world. If anything could bring him close to breaking his vows, it was the soft touch of a tender hand and he was at the receiving end of four hands as opposed to one. Her blonde curls and wild smile had a way of making his heart sing before he knew how to turn away, too. 

Any person… would be a fool to turn her down once she had her eyes set on them. To live a life without her laughter would be torture. He knew better than to let himself fall in love when she was everything he could’ve ever wanted had he been a normal man, but he was not a normal man . 

He could never be a normal man. 

If it came down to it, he knew he would have to be no different than Vanderwood. The world wouldn’t give him a chance to think twice. He would have to get his hands dirty… and turn the other way. He could never know Minji the way he wanted to know her… it wasn’t fair but life had never been fair to him.

It gave just enough kindness to find a way to spare his brother but that seemed to be… the end of the line for him as far as luck was concerned. Minji was no different than Saeran in his eyes. He could dream of a life that let him hold her in his arms and smile as his brother lived a life of his own where he was a part of it, but he could never live in that dream. 

The closest he would ever get would be the opportune moments he shared with Judas as they blurred the line between what it meant to be a captor and a hostage. In a way, it was a role they shared and exchanged back and forth. 

What were they if not a pair of hostages to the agency that promised them protection and only brought them contempt? What were they if not captors who wanted to get a leg up on their hostage before their hearts consumed them first? A constant battle to remain in control left them hungry for more as they would never find someone who understood their plight as much as the other did. 

It could never be more than that, right? 

For his precious brother, for Saeran, he wouldn’t hesitate to do the terrible things they handed to him to preserve his safety out there.

He couldn’t deny there was a sting in his chest whenever he considered how readily the agency would give him the order to kill an innocent man or destroy the lives of those who didn’t deserve it. If it came between his brother and someone else, he’d pick his dear brother, but that was far from the situation he was in now. 

He didn’t have to choose for his brother’s safety tonight. He didn’t have to consider his options and wonder what might happen if he didn’t look over his shoulder.

Saeran was not going to be killed if he decided to give into his instinctual desires. This wasn’t one of the many things that could be traced to his past. It could only be traced to his present. If they were caught, there would surely be a consequence but to what end? 

He hadn’t been killed thus far for what they had done together and the thirst for more was impossible to ignore no matter how hard he drove his head into his work. To what end could he chase this? How far could he justify himself before he had to wrench his heart away from the source of these feelings to be sure no one would kill him?

How far could he allow himself to chase these feelings before he knew he would have to stop for his brother’s safety? He couldn’t afford to paint a target on his back when he already… knew death’s door was just a few steps away. Saeran was safe, but how long would the boy know happiness before someone wrenched it away?

Would he remain safe where he was no matter what? Or, would someone inevitably try to take it away from him because his brother made a mistake? Luciel had no idea how to quantify a decision that didn’t involve his brother.

His brother was the one who was safe from harm in his world for the first time, and he didn’t know what to make of this place where his choice wasn’t Saeran or the world. It was more complicated than that.

His choice had nothing to do with what it should’ve been and that brought conflict to his heart in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. There was something strange about that option existing in his world when his life had always been about his brother and never his own. Saeran wasn’t in danger because of a fling… something that couldn’t be traced as long as he was careful. 

But, he had to draw a line in the sand somewhere and that line was slowly being swept away by waves and wandering toes on the shoreline. 

There would come a day when they had to face the consequences. Judas was by no means innocent compared to the average person, but there was no denying he was a good man. It was no different than how Luciel understood himself to be. He would never be considered good enough for Heaven but… the angels might’ve spared him if they discovered his reasoning. 

The fact that Judas was still alive put a target on their back with the boss. They wanted to use this informant to dig deep into the underbelly of Seoul’s organized crime families to bring them to their knees but Judas was clever in the way he spared them information on a need-to-know basis.

He knew what he was doing and he understood how to best do what he had to do to stay alive. 

Nobody wanted him to live, not the people he enraged in the first place, nor the agency he sold himself to survive. 

He knew when to open his mouth and to keep it closed. 

It was to his benefit, though, to make sure they had a reason to keep him alive for as long as possible. He couldn't just wave his hand and pray for the best. They had to give slices of the truth rather than the full picture just long enough to form another plan to save their skin.

Judas wasn’t an idiot. He knew he had to play the game with the intention of being in the same room as those who put him in the game to start with. He had to be as smart as them, if not smarter, to maintain his survival. To play the traitor, they once told Luciel, was to never show them your full hand. 

He had to agree with that. 

If the agency, or God forbid any of his enemies, found out that he had any vulnerability that could be exploited they would not hesitate to take it. 

The most dangerous thing about him and Judas was the fact that they both adored the same woman.

He knew her before she joined the RFA for a fleeting moment. A night no different than any other where she turned to him for a walk home and he walked to her apartment to make sure she felt safe and turned away even though he wanted to stay by her side and explore what it felt like to know a friendly hand instead of a cruel one. 

It was as simple and as cruel as that, really. To live in a world where they could dream of what they wanted but never act on it was the very reason why they explored each other… knowing they could likely find a corner to escape from the minute they started to feel a dangerous desire for one another in the way they did for Minji Cho. It was no different than dancing with the devil. 

Judas wanted to see her smile another day despite knowing they would never be able to see that smile for themself. Luciel wanted her to smile even knowing all he would ever see was her smile from afar and nothing more than that. How lucky they were to know her… and how unlucky they were to live in a world where they could only have that fleeting taste of Heaven. Two sides of the same coin and yet all they could have was one another! 

Luciel’s life didn’t belong to him after he sold it to the agency, but that didn’t stop his heart from a dangerous desire to protect what could’ve been.

A life with her… would’ve been perfect in every way imaginable and no matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes open, every time he closed them he could see himself sitting at her table with a tray of cookies baked for him to enjoy.

No stipulation, no barter, no nothing… just a smile on her face that could transform a dead plot of land into a flourishing garden of spices. It sounded so wonderful to live in that moment. 

He didn’t want to think about it. 

But, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. 

Luciel's jaw was tight as he continued to hammer away text after text. “What are you going to do about it, then?” 

They seemed surprised but not turned away by his tone given the way they placed their hand on his shoulders. “Is that an invitation , Mon Chéri? You know I don't kiss and tell without informed consent .”

It took all his strength not to grab those hands where they rubbed against his skin with gusto. How dangerous, he thought. It was a dangerous game to play but neither one of them was pressed to stop its pursuit. Luciel needed something to take the heat off of his mind and the only way to make sense of it was to accept Judas' embrace.

It would quell the unrelenting storm better than anything else and let him focus on what mattered. His quest to discover the hacker and put the guy away for deceiving such an innocent girl for nothing more than a game of cat and mouse with the wrong person. 

He spared Judas a glance in the reflection of the monitor. The man was watching him with the same intensity he always did, with a sharp look that cut deeper than any knife and messy curls that felt so much better underneath his fingertips.

It was easier to look at him than it was to look at his haggard reflection, at least. He didn't want to know just how disheveled his appearance was nor how discolored the bags under his eyes were. The state of his appearance didn't matter! Not when the informant looked at him like he was a meal to be devoured. 

“Utilisez votre bouche.” 

“Bien sûr que oui, mon chéri.”

[NSFW content on AO3.]

[pculrstate]

how the night passes

day 2: prompt #36 (a story all in dialogue)

11:02 p.m.

Can you see in?

Sort of. Angle’s bad.

Can’t pull any closer without being spotted out his front window.

Other side of the street?

They probably have a neighborhood watch. I can practically smell the fuckin’ HOA, dude. We’re already pushing our luck.

It’s fine, I can see enough.

Pass me the thermos?

Yeah. Here.

Shit, Sammy. That’s good. From the motel?

Buy one get one at Wegmans. Whole bean.

Shit. How’d you grind ‘em?

Hand grinder in one of the drawers. Someone must’ve left it.

Well, lucky us.

11:47 p.m.

What’s it been, like two hours? Guy hasn’t moved.

Forty-five minutes, Dean.

Jesus fucking Christ. I hate stakeouts.

12:29 a.m.

You bring any grub?

Trail mix.

Ugh. I assume it’s too much to hope for some jerky.

It stinks up the car.

Roll a window.

That kinda defeats the whole being inconspicuous thing.

Whatever. Just gimme the bag.

12:57 a.m.

Stop yawning.

I can’t help it!

Take deep breaths.

How’s that different from yawning.

Are you kidding me?

It’s too warm in here, that’s the problem. Turn the AC on.

Can’t. It’s making that rattling sound, remember?

Dammit. Forgot I was supposed to look at that.

Just take your jacket off or something. Oh, don’t—don’t make a fucking strip tease joke, Dean. They’re not funny.

What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything.

I saw your eyebrow.

What about my eyebrow.

Nothing.

How’s that saying go? He who smelt it dealt it.

Shut up. Your voice is making me nauseous.

1:13 a.m.

Remember when we used to play I Spy? In the car?

Ha. Yeah. Dad was the best at that.

You’d always pick something green. Every time.

Cause there was a lot of green!

Yeah, but even when there wasn’t. And then it’d be something barely green, like. Like the reflection of my sock in the window.

Dad would make up colors. Charfuchsia. Ceruleaneon.

Jeez, how do you remember those? Charfuchsia. Yeah. Man.

I don’t know. But it was kinda weird, right? That he did that. Not like he was very creative.

What? Yeah he was. Had to be. Keeping two rascals entertained for fifteen hours straight? He was always making up games. Shit like that.

I guess.

Hey, Sam?

What?

You wanna play?

2:07 a.m.

I don’t think he’s coming out, man.

He has to. It’s the only time he can feed.

Maybe he’s fasting.

Yeah, I don’t really think they do that.

Maybe he ordered in.

Nice, Dean.

Bet he keeps a stash in the freezer or somethin’.

A stash? They’re people. Try exercising a little tact.

Sorry. Just saying it seems like he’s down for the count.

It’s still early.

Alright then, you good if I close my eyes for a few? I’ll take next shift.

Okay.

2:31 a.m.

You still asleep? Dean?

God, your snoring. You know, when I first got to Stanford I couldn’t sleep for weeks ‘cause my room was so quiet. My roommate slept like a corpse. I hated your fucking snoring. And Dad’s. Used to lie in bed thinking that one day I was gonna have my own room with my own bed and a pillowcase that didn’t smell like mildew and it was going to be perfectly silent, so silent that I’d be able to sleep through the night. You wouldn’t kick me awake. You wouldn’t drool on my shoulder. And then I finally got it, so many years of wishing, and those first weeks, it was…awful. It was so awful. I hadn’t been scared of the dark since I was a kid, but that dorm room. I still— Fuck, I can still remember the feeling. The black and the quiet. And I wanted it back, more than anything. You and Dad. Sometimes you sounded so alike if I wasn’t looking I couldn’t tell who was who. I almost called you so many times.

3:11 a.m.

Hey, sleepyhead.

Anything?

Nope. Still quiet.

Damn, I had a weird dream.

Strippers or Hula dancers?

Ha ha.

Bad?

Not bad. Just…weird.

Wanna tell me?

You gonna sleep?

I’m okay.

Okay. It was like…we were in the Roadhouse? Sort of. You know how that shit is in dreams. It was the Roadhouse but it wasn’t really. Ellen and Ash were there.

Not Jo?

Maybe. I can’t remember. We were all drunk. Like, plastered. Even Ellen. I kept asking her to look for me.

To look for you?

Yeah, I don’t know. I just kept saying that. You have to look for me. And she told me she would but I could tell she didn’t get it. What I was really asking.

What were you really asking?

Oh shit, Jo was there. Yeah, she was there. It’s coming back. ‘Cause every time I told Ellen to look for me Jo would come up behind her and say, What do you think we’re all doing?

Huh.

Yeah.

And what was I doing?

I don’t really…

What?

That part’s fuzzy.

Try.

I don’t know, Sammy. You were drunk like the rest of us. You never— Whenever I dream about you, it’s like. You’re never fully real.

What the hell does that mean?

It’s hard to explain.

How often do you dream about me? Dean?

Most nights. I don’t know.

Most…?

Alright, can we change the subject.

I’m never…fully real.

Like when I try to touch you you’re just air. And your face is blurry or something. Never mind. I shouldn’t’ve brought it up. Just a stupid dream.

Well how did it end? This one.

It didn’t, really. We were just there in the Roadhouse drinking and I was saying that to Ellen and Jo was saying that to me and you were looking at me the whole time but I couldn’t feel you. Whatever. Then I woke up.

Sorry.

What’re you sorry for?

Just—

It’s fine.

Dean. I’m real.

I know, Sam.

3:33 a.m.

We’re going out for the biggest fucking breakfast you’ve ever had in your life after this. Get ready, Sammy.

You sure you’re gonna make it that long?

Hangin’ by a thread. For a monster this dude is fuckin’ boring.

I mean, you think he slipped past us? Back door or something?

You wanna knock and find out? That’s what I thought.

I’m sure we got the timing right. Full moon thirty days before the solstice. Has to be tonight.

I’m thinking short stack. Bacon AND sausage. Home fries. Couple over-easys. Fuckin’ gallon of coffee. Damn. Pants are getting tight.

You’re disgusting.

Maple syrup dripping down my fingers. Shit is erotic, what d’you want from me? You seen that typa porn? Oh, wait, what am I saying. You get off to the History channel.

I do not!

Nothing to be ashamed of, Sammy. Those corset dress things? Hot as fuck. I don’t blame you.

I don’t do that.

Okay, kid. Whatever you say.

3:58 a.m.

Just go to sleep, Sam, I got it.

Not…tired.

Real convincing.

I can see the moon. Out my window.

How nice.

Waning—waning gibbous.

I bet it is.

Hey, Dean?

Yup.

Can you.

Huh? Can I what.

Never mind.

No, what?

I was just gonna say can you— Remember that song you loved, the one about moonlight. Dad had it on cassette.

Uh…

You sang it to me. When I was little.

Verging on delirious, dude. Go to sleep.

You remember. I’d be so scared in the middle of the night if Dad wasn’t there. Or when I was sick. You sang it to me. Say you remember.

I remember, Sam.

Can you…?

Oh, come on, I don’t—

Please.

We’re on a fucking stakeout. Waiting for a dude who eats people.

Dean. Dean?

Ugh, fine, just—just shut up. Don’t look at me. And I swear to God if you laugh I’ll take your head off.

Won’t laugh.

Okay. Okay.

Sam? Sammy? Man, that really works on you, huh? Just like— Yeah. Just like back then. Haven’t listened to that song in years. Surprised I even remember the words. There were nights when you were at school, Dad was on a hunt. I’d get shit faced off fuckin’ cask wine. Put down two or three bottles and then park in some field and lay out in the back seat and just. I’d listen to that song a hundred times in a row. And I’d think about you all alone, and Dad all alone, and me all alone. Why the fuck did we let that happen, Sammy? We were supposed to be together. Always. The three of us, and it wasn’t— Hey, did you wake up? Sam wears women’s underwear…

Look, I’m not saying—

It’s not that I—

It just sucked. It sucked so fucking bad. And I’m glad—

Anyway. Whatever. Sweet dreams.

4:47 a.m.

You ate all the M&Ms from the trail mix.

Yeah? And?

Five year old, I swear to God.

4:56 a.m.

Well those are spaghetti westerns, which don’t even count as real westerns.

What are you talking about they don’t count? Of course they count. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly?

Okay but spaghetti western? Seriously?

Oh, don’t start with that it’s racist crap, Sam. Times were diff—

Times were different back then, yeah, I’ve heard the speech.

They’re good enough for Clint they’re good enough for me.

Still don’t think anything beats El Dorado.

Hell yeah. I’m with you there.

5:13 a.m.

Hey, did I—did I say anything? In my sleep?

Nah, you were out.

Oh. Okay.

Why?

No reason.

You having those freak vision dream things again?

No. Not since.

Yeah. Okay. But you’d tell me, right?

Course.

5:16 a.m.

Sun’s coming up soon. What the hell happened? Why didn’t he come out?

I don’t know. Maybe I read the book wrong. Missed something.

We only got one shot at this.

I know, Dean.

5:23 a.m.

Why Ellen? Of all the people who would look for you. Why her? I mean, we don’t even really know her that well.

Beats me. Wondering the same thing.

And what does that mean? Look for me?

It was just a dream, Sam.

Yeah, but what you said, about me—

Please, I really don’t wanna talk about it.

About me not being real.

It’s not. It’s not that you’re not real. It’s just that I can’t, like. Grab hold of you.

Grab hold of me.

Shit. I—

Like I’m gonna run away.

Sam.

That’s what you’re fucking worried about? All this, everything that’s happened. You’re still— Even in your sleep.

I can’t control what goes on in my head, Sam. You of all people should get that.

You’re a fucking asshole.

You asked.

5:31 a.m.

Don’t let me forget to look at the AC later, yeah? Sam? Oh, what, you’re gonna freeze me out now?

5:36 a.m.

It was a shitty thing to say, okay. I Spy a very sorry brother. I Spy a jerk who’s saying stupid shit because he’s hungry and tired and sick of the fucking car. I Spy—

I’m here, Dean. I’m real. I’m here. Do you get that? Where else would I go?

Okay. I know. Yes. I know.

6:02 a.m.

Dean. Dean! He’s coming.

Ow, fuck, you don’t have to hit me, I see him.

Man, he really waited till dawn. Wonder why? Nothing in the lore about that.

Well he’s a mold breaker, Sammy. Who woulda thought. Let’s just hurry up and ice him so I can have my fucking breakfast.

[kimberlyannharts]

LAST TIME ON RANGER ACADEMY - Dark Specter has taken over the school! And we can't use this as an excuse for free vacation time because if he gets out he'll take over the universe or whatever. Have we seen this before?

Hope comes in the form of Zilan's anti-Dark Specter machine, but a corrupted Mathis has sabotaged it in a fun little prank. That's probably not as funny as they thought it was.

It's Ranger Academy #12!

= Another instance in how Ranger Academy handled the whole Dark Specter corruption plot than Darkest Hour - dear god I wish Aisha had gotten even a tenth of this much emotion when she saw Rocky and Adam were corrupted

= Well sounds a lot easier than going to a Zeo Crystal Planet in another dimension

= Nika's kind of hilarious btw he's only just gotten back in contact with his old friend and they're trying to save the universe from a Dark Specter takeover and he won't stop flirting with that friend who's still grieving his dead boyfriend. He's been waiting to shoot his shot for over ten years

= Rhianth legitimately looks like he got barbecued here but it's fine. He's too hot to die

= Don't get me wrong Lindy/Sage is superior but Sage/Kartyr is also good if I had to pick a het ship. Pink/Green always gets me, man

= My friends and I saw you across the bar and we're coming to kick your ass (we're all underage)

= I still can't believe THIS book gave us Dark Specter's classic design for his final stand rather than the 2016 series. With very passing day I hate the Evil Radiant Red design more and more

= Also him saying "it's allowed me to become more concentrated" kind of supports my theory that Dark Specter existing here is due to him reforming in some kind of regenerative cycle, and he's still in his "early stage"

= Sage: you think you're so evil? We all have MENTAL ILLNESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

= That staff becoming a bow is a good twist

= also yeah yeah Dark Specter got taken out too easily whatever, it's still better than the main series

= Headmaster you truly did nothing for me ever. Nothing for anyone, really

= so as I said in my notes, I think this is supposed to answer that the face we saw in the Green tube were most likely Zilan and Tashi's spirits, but not fully-formed. I guess it was just a little confusing due to them appearing as a big head, and Sage saying "is that me??" - I feel that would have made more sense if Sage and Zilan were legitimately brother and sister and you could connect the dots that they looked alike because of that relation (they already look super similar, so why not just take that extra leap. It would also explain why Sage's parents were there and why Zilan was THAT protective of her)

= also live Sage reaction

= Unfortunately now you're gonna have to listen to Green Ranger teachers, and do you KNOW how crazy those guys are???? Ziggy one day and Riley the next. Major whiplash

= GAY PEOPLE ARE SO ANNOYINGGGGGG

= also "maybe it's time I retired!" Nika, you're like.....thirty. Actually wait, I totally understand him

= I'm kind of mourning the fact that we'll never see Nugget Zord come to pass

= But anyway, the end!!!! Goodbye, Ranger Academy. Video review to come....soon

[possessiveandobsessive]

The Spirit of Determination

Nyra "Rook" Thorne is somehow responsible for the fate of all of Thedas. If she's going to pull it off, she's going to need a hell of a lot of determination. Lucky for her, she knows a guy and his demon who can help her out with that.

SERIOUS SPOILERS AHEAD, IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED THE GAME, STAY AWAY!!!!!

Part 4: In Death, Sacrifice

Out of breath and filled with anxious adrenaline, Rook and the team members who had come with her reached a fade rift just inside the ruins. It was clearly unstable, and appeared larger than the ones she had been carefully setting off on their way here. Being the leader, it was only right that Rook was the one to cautiously stick her foot out to test the range of the rift. Almost immediately it began pulsing and pulling at its surroundings, starting to destabilize already. 

Yikes! Rook yanked her foot back and watched as the rift slowly returned to its agitated but technically stable state. How the hell are we supposed to… She began to try and come up with a strategy for bypassing this rift quickly and without risking her companions. It was a struggle though, this obstacle was not one that was meant to be avoided. It was meant to kill.

“Rook,” Emmerich’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts, “There’s no way to get past this tear without someone stabilizing it from outside the blast radius. I shall stay behind and keep it from erupting. You’ll need to take the rest of the team ahead without me.”

Rook looked at him for a moment as she considered. The last thing she wanted to do was leave the necromancer behind by himself, but at the same time… There’s no way we can get by this thing in time if I don’t go with his plan. 

The words left her mouth, tasting bitter and causing that sick feeling to stir slightly in her gut. “Okay Emmerich. Do it.” Rook met his eyes, “Do your best to find another way around after we are through, and be careful.” The last two words of that sentence left no room for argument. She wasn’t going to lose anyone today if she could help it. Damn it if she wasn’t going to find a way to bring them all home, no matter the cost to herself.

Emmerich began working his magic on the rift, hands waving gently in the air. Rook could see the moment it became stable enough for them to pass unscathed. She shot Emmerich one last grateful look before commanding the rest of her team to follow her. Relieved that everyone moved without hesitation across the destroyed hall, Rook set her eyes forward. Make it count, kid, her mentor’s voice echoed in her head. She would make it count, she had to.

Racing further into the ruin, Rook and her team made quick work dispatching darkspawn, Venatori foot soldiers, and Antaam alike. Nothing needed to be said, everyone pushed silently closer and closer to their goal. The only words spoken were words of encouragement or warning between Veilguard members in the heat of active battle. Cutting down the last Antaam belonging to the 6th or 7th wave they’d encountered since leaving Emmerich, Rook turned the corner and was immediately stopped by their next major obstacle. 

Fucking Venatori blood magic wards! Rook silently fumed. She was getting really tired of these red barriers that seemed to be everywhere they went. Turning to the group behind her, she opened her mouth to speak, only to be immediately cut off by Bellara.

“It’ll be tricky, and dangerous, but if you can give me a couple minutes, I can get those wards down. I’m pretty sure. No, I’m sure. One hundred percent.” Bellara ended her declaration more confident than she had started it, with her chin up and back straight. Had they not been in the most dangerous place imaginable, Rook would have hugged her out of pride at her growth. 

Neve broke in next. “I can do it.” she spoke in a tone that on the surface, left no room for question. Except that Rook knew her too well. She could hear the notes of doubt and tinges of anxiety buried in the false confidence which Neve so easily wielded as a weapon. “It’s Venatori blood magic,” the Tevinter mage continued, “I deal with it constantly, and I can bring them down with my magic.”

Damn it, even more frustrated now, Rook considered her options. How many times am I going to have to gamble with my friends’ lives today? She knew the answer already: too many. It was ultimately her role on the team, her burden to carry so that no one else had to. That was her sacrifice. Grimly with a hint of dark humor, Rook thought of the phrase that had defined the last 8 years of her life. In Peace, Vigilance. In War, Victory. In Death, Sacrifice. Only she was making her sacrifices in the midst of war.

Ultimately she chose Bellara to be the one to remove the wards. “Bellara, you got this. Get those wards down as quickly as you can, safely please.” Bellara nodded and set to work, mumbling and cursing the Venatori and elven gods under her breath. Rook’s decision had come partially from Bellara’s confidence, but a large deciding factor was Bellara’s anger. Rook knew Bellara hated these so-called gods perhaps more than anyone else. The Veiljumper had grown up in a Dalish clan and so had worshipped Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain her whole life. At least until her “benevolent creators” had returned to the mortal plain, destroying, blighting, and killing everything in their paths. It was an affront to her people, a truly unforgivable betrayal. Bellara felt like she needed to make it right, just like Harding, and just like Rook.

Neve looked unhappy, but said nothing. She had learned to trust Rook, even when she didn’t agree with her choices. After all, Varric had chosen Rook for this, and that meant something to Neve. It didn’t stop her from being filled with worry as she watched her best friend, the woman she had come to… The detective stopped that thought before she could finish it. Wait. Wait until you’re both safe and this nightmare is over, she scolded herself. I can’t afford to lose anything else. Not something that matters so much. Hardening her heart, Neve refocused her attention on the current objective.

Rook grinned a little as she watched the wards come down. Bellara was right, it took her just under two minutes to dismantle the blood magic spells keeping them out. Her team really was the best of the best.

“Way to go Bellara!” Rook said, walking up to stand next to the artifacts specialist. “You did it, and in record time I might add!” 

Bellara blushed and smiled brightly at her leader, “Thanks Rook! I knew I could do it, because you taught me that I’m capable of more than I think I am.”

The others moved forward to join them at the entryway to the next room. Rook looked at the small group and was about to address them, when a look of horror flashed across Neve’s features. Lucanis and Davrin’s mouths opened as if they were both going to shout in unison. Spite’s wings erupted from Lucanis’s back as he lunged past her in Bellara’s direction. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as Rook turned to see what was going on behind her. NO! was her only thought as a blight tentacle shot out of an Eluvian leaning on the wall directly behind Bellara. Desperate and afraid for her friend, Rook jumped towards her as well, missing the Veiljumper’s outstretched hand by millimeters. She could hear Elgar’nan’s laughter in her mind as Bellara was pulled into the Eluvian. Disappearing before she or Lucanis could get to her. 

“Poor little Rook” 

Elgar’nan’s taunting voice flooded Rook’s mind as she watched the Eluvian shatter, glass going in every direction, cutting off any path to Bellara.

“You are nothing but a pawn of the Dread Wolf. You can’t even protect your friends, how do you expect to defeat us?”

Ghilan’nain’s laughter joined Elgar’nan’s and the two ancient gods’ sadistic mirth filled her brain. Rage and grief coursed within her very blood as Rook stood frozen in shock. She stared blankly at the broken glass laying at the foot of the enchanted mirror. Bellara’s terrified face covered in fresh tears was all Rook could see for a moment. Failure. You’re a failure, Nyra. Whispers made of self-loathing floated through her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut. Bellara was gone. 

A hand on her shoulder had Rook opening her eyes and looking up. It was Lucanis, watching her with sad eyes. That wasn’t all though, under the sadness there was a new kind of determination. “She’s not dead yet, Rook,” the Antivan man spoke in a soft voice. “She’d want us to keep moving. Every moment we spend grieving right now is one less that we have to stop Ghilan’nain.”

He was right. Rook knew that he was right, but she hated that the cost of stopping the gods was so high. Now was not the time to dwell on it though, so she let out a hard puff of air and turned to Davrin and Neve who still stood behind her.

Neve looked absolutely shattered. Rook could see the unshed tears in her eyes, and watched as the mage willed herself to swallow the emotion. Davrin still appeared to be frozen in utter shock. Assan tugged lightly on his sleeve to get his attention, and the other warden’s gaze snapped to hers. Rook’s glassy eyes and hard expression communicated what she was unable to speak aloud: We need to move on. We have to leave her behind. Without saying anything else, Rook led the remaining members of the Veilguard she still had at her side further into the ruins. 

                     *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

As much as Rook hated to see Neve leave her side to join with the Veiljumpers who were keeping the gods’ attention, she understood it was the best decision. Neve was angry for one, and two, Strife and Irelin did need the support. The Tevinter ice mage could definitely provide them that.

And then there were three. Well, and Assan. Rook thought as she ran towards where they planned to find Ghilan’nain. Davrin and Lucanis ran at her back, Davrin at her right and Lucanis at her left. This was her strongest unit for all out battles, and she was grateful to have both men with her for this confrontation. As was usual when they ran like this, Rook could feel Lucanis’s heavy stare on her back. It was a comfort she needed right now, regardless of the distracting way in which her heart fluttered. She needed him to come through this with her. Rook needed Lucanis to live. 

Approaching the massive doorway that led to a large, blighted clearing outside, the three of them heard a scream break through the quiet darkness. “I think that was Harding…” Davrin spoke cautiously, eyeing Rook to watch her reaction. 

She did a good job keeping her fierce expression she’d been wearing since Bellara’s sudden abduction. Her heart developed another fissure as Harding’s scream registered, but she couldn’t let it stop her. Rook couldn’t let her reaction to the sound fill the men beside her with any more doubt. She simply kept moving. One foot pounding against the debris-covered stone after the other, Rook pushed her body. They were close to Ghilan’nain now. The blight grew thicker here, and the air seemed heavy with a dark magic. “Get ready.” Rook said without turning to face Davrin or Lucanis, “She’s close-”

Her sentence was cut short by Ghilan’nain bursting from the ground directly in front of them. Blight filled the wide open space and she and the boys were thrown several feet back from the force of the Mother of Monsters’ sudden appearance. Head spinning and ribs aching, Rook got to her feet as quickly as she was able to on weak, wobbling legs. A scene of complete chaos was unfolding before her. 

Lucanis and Davrin were both trying to find their feet while Assan had taken to the air. The young griffon watched for Davrin’s orders as he flew carefully above them, avoiding Ghilan’nain’s flailing tentacles. Rook’s eyes widened as she spotted Harding. The dwarf woman was wrapped tightly in the blight Ghilan’nain wielded, tucked into an alcove on her right. Before she had time to register, the goddess had Lucanis and Davrin trapped the same way. Both men were trapped in writhing cocoons in alcoves similar to the one where Harding was being held.

You’ve GOT to be fucking kidding me, Rook thought furiously. She felt helpless for the thousandth time since she had seen the moon forced across the sky. Ghilan’nain had destroyed Minrathous with her blighted dragon, killed every citizen of D’Meta’s Crossing, led the siege that had wiped out three quarters of the Grey Warden’s ranks and left Weisshaupt a ruin, and now the bitch was actively threatening everyone Rook cared about. This left Rook with only one option, one conclusion: she was going to end this false goddess here and now. Bonus points if she made her suffer.

Ghilan’nain’s screeching laughter came to a halt as she narrowly avoided the blast of lightning and quick blade that followed it. Angry, the goddess conjured a shield around herself, and scattered blight boils all around the space. Rook rapidly took in her new surroundings. She made quick work identifying which blight boils were connected to each other, to Ghilan’nain’s shield, and to the tendrils holding her team. A solid plan formed in her mind: cut her team out, break down Ghilan’nain’s barrier, and then beat the ever living shit out of her ugly, blighted ass. Oh, and she needed to avoid being disemboweled or eaten alive by the never-ending waves of darkspawn coming from the blight boils that now covered every inch of the battlefield. 

Without giving herself time to second-guess her plan or freeze up, Rook started tearing her way through to the blight boils she knew would release Harding. She needed the scout’s bow and arrow to keep the darkspawn off of her while she worked to cut down Davrin and Lucanis. Spinning and dodging her way around clusters of blight and sharp, bloody claws, Rook used her magic and blade to make quick work of the boils tethered to Harding’s prison. Raw, magical energy crackled around her as she finally cut Harding out of the blight. Rook’s adrenaline was making her elemental magic practically bleed from her pores, so she was careful as she laid a steadying hand on her oldest companion’s shoulder. It only took a second for the scout to get her bearings, and Rook thanked whichever god wasn’t a malevolent dictator for her friend’s quick reflexes. Harding shoved Rook away roughly, a tentacle coming down so hard it cracked the stone where Rook had been standing less than a second prior.

“I’ll cover you!” Harding shouted at Rook. The two women broke into a run, dodging blight and darkspawn as they crossed the battleground. “Just get Davrin and Lucanis out! We need Lucanis to kill her before this gets any worse!” Red braids swung loose, (having fallen from the tight updo the scout normally kept her hair in when she was out in the field), as Harding whipped around. She nimbly jumped into the air over a blight boil and fired three arrows at once. All three met their marks, sinking deep into the squishing flesh of the pursuing darkspawn.

Rook had never felt so relieved to have the dwarf at her side. A weight was lifted from her shoulders, and she started making quick work of the boils tethered to Davrin. She was aware that getting Lucanis out was a priority, but Davrin was closer and she and Harding could really benefit from more back-up. Ghilan’nain’s shield wasn’t going to come down on its own. 

The Grey Warden was able to free her comrade-in-arms relatively quickly. Cutting through the correct boils was easier now that she wasn’t drowning in as many darkspawn. Thank you Harding, she thought to herself, you’re a lifesaver. Davrin shook himself off, throwing off any remaining bits of blight stuck to his armor. Without needing to be directed, Davrin called upon Assan and the two started targeting the blight surrounding Ghilan’nain. She was grateful her fellow warden didn’t require instruction. He, like her, had a sense for the blight and could easily tell which parts were connected to each other, as well as which ones powered the false goddess’s shield.

Now Rook just needed to free Lucanis, and he would finish this. She could feel herself start to run out of steam, and pushed herself to cut down the remaining boils even quicker than before. Push, push until your legs give out. Push until your arms fail you. Don’t stop. Her mantra kept her mind focused and her vision trained on her goal. As she cut down the final blight boil, Rook leapt into the air using all the strength remaining in her legs. She had to turn and flip diagonally to avoid one of the explosive blight balls Ghilan’nain had begun throwing after she freed Harding. Landing in front of Lucanis in his cocoon, she slashed her dagger down savagely, channeling lightning through her arm and into the blade. The blight almost seemed to shriek as it was sundered into two squelching masses. In a flash of purple light and flutter of wings, Lucanis was standing between her and a darkspawn she hadn’t realized was a mere two feet from tearing into her. The crow effortlessly severed its head from its neck, and the now lifeless corpse fell to the ground with a wet thump.

“Thanks.” Rook said breathlessly. She blamed the exertion of battle for the way her voice came out, choosing to ignore that the biggest reason was the powerful assassin putting himself between herself and danger without a second thought. 

“No problem.” Lucanis, even in the heat of such an important battle, managed to give Rook his signature crooked grin before grabbing the lyrium dagger from her belt. “Now if you don’t mind, We’ve got a god to kill.” Lucanis’s voice took on the deep, echoing tone that came only when Spite joined him without trying to take over completely. Rook controlled the shiver that wanted to spread throughout her body, and simply nodded to him. “Go.” 

Taking off at full speed, Lucanis and Spite launched into the air and shot towards Ghilan’nain’s chest like a missile. For a moment, Rook was certain they were going to land the blow. Their aim was true, and there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in their combined movement. It appeared to be the perfect shot. Then, every hope Rook had for the battle being ended with that blow was sucked out of her body as more giant blight tentacles shot up from beneath the ground. One shot towards Lucanis, and he and Spite were unable to roll out of the way quickly enough in midair to avoid it. Rook watched in abject horror as Ghilan’nain’s grip tightened and squeezed the air from his lungs. Lucanis was still struggling, but was unable to get the knife in his hand at an angle to cut the slimy appendage away. He met her eyes then. His expression was unreadable, but was filled with some kind of powerful emotion. Rook snapped.

Moving with a speed she wasn’t aware she could achieve at this point, Rook heard Davrin and Harding shouting at her as she landed just in front of Lucanis. She could think of nothing else at that moment, only that she had to free him. There was no way she was going to watch him die in front of her now, not after Bellara, and not when she still had so much to tell him. Rook brought her blade down over and over, slicing at the thick tendril until it released Lucanis. 

This woman, Lucanis thought, is unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Spite agreed, Rook is special. Brave. Strong. We protect. No matter what. Once freed, Lucanis repositioned his grip on the Dread Wolf’s dagger and opened his mouth to speak, meaning to apologize and ask for another shot. He never got the chance.

Rook felt something wrap around her right ankle and before she could say or do anything, she was yanked backwards towards Ghilan’nain. Her head hit the ground as she was harshly flipped upside down. Hanging by her ankle, she was lifted upwards until she was face-to-face with the evil goddess. Ghilan’nain giggled with glee as she lighty swung Rook back and forth. All Rook could think was that she had to find a way down. She had to find a way to get out of this tightening hold and defeat this blighted horror show. She struggled and writhed in the air, gritting her teeth and growling loudly in rage. 

She swung her body wildly, enough that she turned some and could see that Lucanis and Spite were once again stuck in their foe’s grasp. Frantically, she tried to think, she had to get them free. How though? Rook for maybe the first time in her life, had no plan. She was stuck and out of ideas. We’re going to lose, she thought hollowly, I really did fail this time. Eyes closing, she thought of Varric. At least he was safe at the Lighthouse. I’m sorry Varric. I guess you picked the wrong Rook after all…

*Thunk* The grip on her ankle lessened the smallest bit. Green eyes, the color of the fade snapped open. Rook looked around, trying to figure out what had just happened.

*Thunk* Ghilan’nain screeched in agony and rage, her grip on Rook loosening further, enough now that she kicked and swung until she dropped to the ground in a heap. She was free! Hearing a pair of boots hit the ground next to her, Rook turned and looked up to see Lucanis offering her a hand up. She grit her teeth against the pain that seemed to be everywhere, and grabbed his forearm. He hauled her to her feet and they both turned to take in the scene before them. Rook’s heart plunged into her stomach as she realized what, who, had freed her and Lucanis.

*Thunk* Lace Harding stood on a tall rock just behind Ghilan’nain, and had just fired her third arrow deep into the monster’s chest. The scout’s eyes moved to land on Rook’s eyes, and she smiled as a thin blight tendril went through her abdomen. Unable to move, Rook watched as the tendril pierced her friend’s stomach two more times in quick succession. Blood was pouring from her small form, but it didn’t stop Harding from firing one more arrow. This final shot struck true again, piercing Ghilan’nain’s chest for the fourth time. With a terrible wail, the Mother of Monsters tossed Harding’s limp body into a blighted pit that the goddess had opened at some point during the fight. As she fell, Harding met Rook’s eyes one final time. Lace looked like she was at peace. Eyes swimming with tears, Rook could blurrily make out Harding’s lips moving. “Whatever it takes.”

With that, Lace Harding closed her eyes and fell deep into the earth, never to be seen again.

Part 5 here

Part 3 here

Part 2 here

Part 1 here

DATV Masterlist here

[crybaby-bkg]

sᴄᴏʀɴᴇᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ғɪᴠᴇ

Bakugou x f!reader Warnings/Tags: male OC tries to assault reader, short scuffle between reader and OC, attempted sexual assault (but nothing actually happens), poor living conditions, slowly creeping into the hesitant friends arc!!, panic attacks, very brief suicidal ideations Word Count: 4.6k Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!

Main Masterlist AO3

A couple days have gone by since your meeting with the heroes and the Hero Commission’s worker. You still haven’t come to a clear decision yet, but granted, this is a big decision and its not just one that you can make over night. 

As you head home from your job, you try to weigh the pros and cons of rebranding as a hero. For one, you’d probably make more money and be able to afford your apartment. You wouldn’t have to sneak around so much, and you’d probably get a lot more respect and credit when walking amongst people, and not just in online spaces.

But…who’s to say the rest of society will accept you? In hero society, being a vigilante is illegal. You know that if you accept the conditions of rebranding, then your crimes will be forgiven, but for the rest of your career, you’ll be under strict watch. What’s the point of saving people if you have to be monitored the whole time?

A lot of those who have become victims themselves, or had been saved by you, respected what you did and how you went about it. But so, so many, including heroes and the government and police alike, hated you. Not because of what you stood for, that most didn’t know or didn’t care to know, but because you were targeting men. Its not like those men were innocent, but due diligence and the whole concept of “judge, jury, and executioner” really turned people off from you. 

If you did accept, how would other heroes see you? Would they find new respect for you, after hearing your story? Or would they only condemn you to being a vigilante, someone who should’ve never been forgiven? 

How would Miruko see you? Would she respect you, and what you’ve become? Would she still carry the same disdain she shows on the news? 

What would become of you, if you let the Red Medusa lay forever forgotten in the streets, and become someone new? Should you bring up your vigilante days, or do you let the news dig it all up and find out when you start flourishing as a hero? Do you keep the gap between victim and hero empty, or would you have to spill it all to everyone?

The thoughts overwhelm you, and you find yourself in front of your door before you know it. You drop your keys twice, and by the time you finally unlock your door, someone clearing their throat interrupts you. Your head whips around to find your landlord standing a few feet beside you with his hands tucked into his jeans. 

He’s a younger guy, which was a surprise when you first met him. You thought all landlords looked like sewer rats with greasy hair and a creepy aura. This landlord, Mr. Riku only exudes one of those things—creepiness. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your rent, sweetheart.” Mr. Riku nods his head to you, and you bristle at the name. 

“Don’t call me sweetheart.” You snap at him, keeping your hand locked on your doorknob, the other holding a pocket knife tight in the front of your hoodie. Mr. Riku rolls his eyes at you, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he laughs. 

“Ah, right. Trauma, and shit.” He says flippantly, making a face that you think is supposed to disarm you and make you laugh with him. You don’t. You stare at him for a minute, chewing the inside of your cheek as you take all of him in. 

“What do you want?” You bark when he stands there staring at you for too long. Every time you talk to him, you feel like you’re going to emerge out of the conversation covered in slime weighing you down. 

“You’re three months behind on rent. I should evict you.” He singsongs, twisting his mouth as he leans against the wall beside your door. 

“So why don’t you?” You sneer at him, all bite and sharp teeth that he ignores to instead clean invisible dirt from under his nails. 

“It would be a shame to lose such a pretty face in my building, you know? I’d miss it.” Mr. Riku looks up at you from under white haired bangs, grinning something evil that makes your stomach churn and your chest tighten. Before you can say anything, he’s slinking his way inside of your apartment through your open door, coming in before you can stop him. 

“The fuck are you doing?” You shout at him, hand tightening on the pocket knife as you flip it open inside your pocket. You really don’t wanna slice up your landlord and get into actual non-vigilante trouble for this, but you’re starting to fall into fight or flight mode. Right now, he’s one of the men who’s hurt you, and you refuse to be a victim again. 

“I own the building, sweetheart.” Mr. Riku says snootily, walking into your living room, violating it with his yuck. “I’m entitled to come into each and every unit when I damn so please.” He looks around the place, holding up a shirt you left on the couch and sniffing it blatantly in your face. 

You cringe at that, heart rate picking up as you take a step to him, frozen in your spot when he suddenly appears in front of you again. He reaches a hand out to your own that’s still in your pocket, and you finally find it in you to move, snatching away as you stumble into the still ajar door. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You growl at him, though your voice shakes much more than you’d like. Usually, when facing off with creepy men like this, they don’t know who you are, can’t hang your living situation over your head, don’t know your connections to a high ranking hero who paid for you to live here.. 

“I have an offer for you, that I can’t let the other neighbors hear.” Mr. Riku whispers, inching closer to you until his nose damn near brushes yours. 

You jerk back, one hand still gripping the knife, the other curling up into a fist at your side. If he attacks, you can either cut him or punch him, but that might not be enough. You might have to get your gun strapped to your hip, even though you’re sure that it’ll be too loud and alert the neighbors. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or bad thing. 

“Which is?” You reply back, calculating his next move as much as you can, trying to keep your head leveled. 

“I’ll extend your stay here. But you have to treat me right in return.” Mr. Riku mutters, hands—creepy, disgusting, too bony, too long, too veiny hands—reaching out to cup your chest. Before he can, you swing your fist, nailing him directly in the jaw, sending him crashing into your bookshelf next to your front door. A few books fall on him, and you stand above him, heart racing at the thought of what he just tried to do to you. 

“Fuck you, you fucking pig.” You spit at him, voice cracking as he moans in pain. You pick up your bag, kicking him between the legs once as hard as you can before you finally dart out into the hallway. 

From there, you run and run and run until your legs take you to a safe place, heart in your throat all the while. You don’t think you can breathe; you don’t think you took a single breath the entire way there until you found your back against a familiar door, gasping in the musky air of the warehouse. 

Nobody seems to be here, as all the lights are off and its quieter than it usually is. You call out Vanity’s name, expecting for at least her to be there, but nobody answers you. You feel rooted to your place at the door, eyes welling with tears as your shaking hands hold tightly onto your bag. You can’t move—have your limbs always been weighed down so heavily by lead? Has your heartbeat always been so loud in your ears?

After what feels like hours, do you slowly start sinking down onto the hard, cold floor beneath you. Your fingers are warm and clammy when you finally let go of the bag, to instead wrap your arms around your figure. You take a breath, and then another, before the sobs start to wrack your body, heavy and loud and ugly, shaking and screeching, angry and full of—of, rage, fear, terrifying, body consuming fear. 

Your eyes burn with every blink, your chest getting too tight, you don’t think you can muster anymore breath inside of your lungs. You can’t move, you can’t move, you can’t move. 

A shadow emerges from the steps in the back corner, and you think that this might be the end for you. Maybe it should be—you won’t have to fight anymore, you won’t have to suffer. You won’t be such a pain in the ass for Dynamight anymore. 

But instead, you’re greeted with an emerald green eyepatch and a golden, glowing eye. Vanity. 

She says something to you, but your ears feel like they’re filled with cotton. She crouches in front of you, waving a hand in front of your face, but your eyes have been unseeing for a while now. So she holds you, close to her chest, gathers you up in her arms like a mother would, and she holds you. 

You don’t think you’ve ever cried harder. 

You two stay like that for what feels like days, before your tears have slowed to trickles down your cheeks, and your sobs have dissipated into quiet little hiccups. You don’t know when you started holding her back, but your hands grip her shirt, and you belatedly realize that she’s wearing her usual pajamas. 

“Sorry for waking you,” you croak out, throat dry and scratchy. Vanity leans back to fix you with a frown, and you notice that her own eye holds tears. 

“Don’t apologize. I heard my girl crying, and what kind of best friend would I be to not comfort her?” She reassures you, wiping away the few stray tears that still fall down your face. You smile wobbly at her, before planting your head in her chest again. She’s warm, and holds you close to her with her arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, stroking your hair. She lets you stay like that for a few more minutes, before she speaks,

“Can I ask what happened?” Her voice is tiny in the big, spacious room. “It’s okay if you don’t want to share.” You sit with her question hanging in the air, trying to gather the words in your mouth to spit out. 

“Creepy, shitty landlord.” Is all you can muster up. It’s enough though, as she only hums in acknowledgement, muttering, 

“It’s always creepy, shitty landlords, ain’t it?” You can hear her smile when you start to laugh against her skin, finally pulling back to look at her. Her cheeks are tear-stained, and you wonder if she can cry from an empty socket. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” She asks, helping you to your feet. 

The rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur, with Vanity helping you to the shower, lending you some clothes since you didn’t have anything clean in your bag, and fixing you up something quick and easy to eat. You two are quiet in the empty warehouse, and you fall asleep next to her on the cot in her room. It’s uncomfortable sharing such a small space, but at least you know you’re safe. 

…

Things went by uneventfully when you “broke” into your apartment to get some extra clothes and other necessities with Vanity. After that though, you’ve stayed in the warehouse full time. It’s not the most ideal living situation though, long term, since there’s no Wi-Fi and it interferes with your connection to the outside world and possible villain activity going on. Also, there’s no hot water, nor is there a fully functioning kitchen besides a microwave. 

This hideaway was only supposed to be for temporary usage—running away from the cops, needing to get stitched up, some extra ammo, a safe place to sleep for a few nights. 

Not for two weeks. Once your higher ups started asking questions about your performance after a few patients expressed their worry about your near constant zombie-like state, you realized that you had to find another solution. (You think its the consistent cold showers that really did you in. Miruko spoiled you with such a nice place.) 

You finally decide to swallow your pride, grumbling all the while as you stand behind the warehouse, holding your phone up high to the sky. 

[ You , sent at 8:49pm ]

hey asshole, its trm. got a minute to chat? 

[ Dynamight , sent at 8:52pm ]

yeah, only took you three years to text me

what?

[ You , sent at 8:55pm ]

you're even ruder over text

I need a favor, but don’t expect anything in return 

[ Dynamight , sent at 8:57pm ]

Never. 

[ You , sent at 8:58pm ]

got some housing issues going on rn. do you have any recs for low rent apartments in the area?

[ Dynamight , sent at 9:00pm ]

Ur shitting bricks if you think you can get something low in this neighborhood

[ You , sent at 9:05pm ]

thanks for the fucking help then

[ Dynamight , sent at 9:06pm ]

got a spare room at my place tho?

[ You , sent at 9:06pm ]

And what the fuck does that mean?

“What the fuck does that mean, Dynamight?” You immediately call him before the text can even send through, heart in your throat, your breathing heavy. Dynamight answers on the second ring, and grunts at your loud tone this late at night. 

“What else would it mean?” He asks, voice disinterested as he yawns on the other end of the line. “I gotta spare room at my place, if you wanna crash.” He offers up like its the most casual thing a person could ever do. You’re silent on the other line as you let his words sink in, eyebrows furrowing as your gaze unfocuses on the thicket of trees in front of you. 

Why would he offer up his place to you? Is he looking for something in return? Would he take advantage of you? What if the fucker had some kind of freaky room where he could tie you up and do whatever freaky shit repressed heroes do? You bite at your lip, mind reeling, as you form your mouth to reject his offer.  

“Look, not to be an intrusive dumbass but—” Dynamight speaks up after a long stretch of silence. 

“You are.” You cut him off, listening to him grunt on the other end of the line. 

“Shuddup.” You can practically hear the frown in his voice before he continues. “But I see Miruko hooked you up at a shelter near the apartment you were staying at, and its pretty close to where I’m at. If you don’t wanna take an hour commute to get there because you gotta stay in some shitty apartment, then you could come crash with me.” 

He’s too fucking nonchalant for you, to be offering up something so hugely important. You just don’t get it, you think, as you exhale, one hand gripping your phone tightly and the other gripping the roots of your hair. 

“And why would you do that?” You ask him in the tiniest whisper you can muster, brain struggling to figure out why someone like him would offer his space to someone like you. 

“The fuck? I just explained why.” Dynamight grunts confusedly on the other end, and you can damn near see his thick brows scrunching in confusion.  

“No, I mean why you?” You ask desperately, hands starting to tremor as you speak through your teeth. “Why are you offering up your place for me to live? We don’t even know each other, much less like each other.” Your voice, quiet, shaking under the weight of the words. Dynamight is silent for a few seconds before he retorts, 

“We’d have to know each other to dislike each other.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” You snap at him, back straightening as if he could see you. He goes silent for a few beats, formulating the right words in his head before he talks quietly into the mic. 

“Call this a gesture of good faith.” He states, voice firm and unwavering. “I’ve intruded on your life a fuckton these past weeks, trying to rope you into hero life, ‘nd all that, so I wanna offer up something that means a lot to me. Even playing field, and shit.”

You fall silent, mulling over his words, everything that could go wrong if you were to put your trust into a hero, a man. He could hurt you. He could get away with it, easily. He could paint you out to be the crazy one, the problem. 

But…he could help you. You would never need a man’s help but—Dynamight, in all of your interactions, never seemed like the type of scummy guys you frequently punished. He felt genuine, in a sense, firm but not too pushy. And maybe—maybe you could trust him. Just a little bit. 

He hasn’t turned you into the police or to Hero Commission (yet?). You guess the guy couldn’t be all bad. 

“I’m not taking any fuckin’ handouts.” You snap at him after a minute of silence. You can hear him chuckle on the other end before fabric starts ruffling in the background. 

“Not a handout, dumbass. Just letting you borrow some shit for the time being.” He shrugs, and you swear you hear him yawn once. You frown, kicking up some branches that lay fallen at your feet. 

“I’ll pay rent.” You mutter to him. 

“No shit you’re paying rent.” Dynamight snorts, barely giving you a second to even offer. Shit head. 

“Okay. Text me your address.” You go to pull your phone away to hang up, interrupted by his voice calling out on the other end. 

“You’re coming now? I was about to go to bed.” He grumbles. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, pulling the phone away from your ear to check the time. 

“The fuck? It’s not even 9:30 yet, you old fart.” You poke at him, listening to his annoyed mumbling on the other side. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Dynamight says with no real malice. “Call me when you’re outside.” He hangs up before you can say another word, and sends his address through to you only seconds later. 

You look up at the sky before going back inside, gaze focused on the full moon and the cloudless skies, and wonder how the hell you’re gonna tell Vanity that you're moving in with a male pro hero. You decide that the best way to tell her, is by not telling her face to face at all. 

Before you leave, you write a note left on your cot for her to find. You know she’s not going to be happy about this, but you have to put yourself first every once in a while. 

…

“Well you look like shit.” Is the first thing you tell Dynamight when he opens the door to his apartment. He’s frowning at you, with half of his ash blond mane flattened on one side, his tank top twisted at the neck a little, his sweatpants low on his hips, and his feet bare. He looks like you’ve just woken him up. 

“Fuck off,” he mutters, yawning before he turns on his heel to walk back inside. You follow, albeit hesitantly, afraid that something or someone might be wanting for you around the corner, ready to attack. But you take off your shoes, and pad into the living room, and it looks like no boogeymen are plotting on snatching you before you can even scream. 

Dynamight stands behind the couch with his hands on his hips, a sleepy little frown on his face as he looks at you. He gestures to the open layout of his place, voice a deep grumble in his throat. 

“Living room. Tv remote there,” he points to the coffee table before hooking his thumb behind him. “Kitchen—don’t eat my fuckin’ protein bars.” He points at you next and you only sneer at him. He tries to match your look but he’s too sleepy to keep up, so he only turns on his heel again before guiding you down a long hallway. 

“Did you fall asleep already? We just hung up like, thirty minutes ago.” You ask him, frowning when it takes more effort than you’d like to keep up with his long legs. 

“Shut it. I thought I was gonna stay up, but ‘m fuckin’ exhausted.” Dynamight grunts at you, sidestepping at a door across from what looks like the bathroom. You peer inside, hiking your heavy book bag up higher on your shoulder. Dynamight goes to take it without warning, and you instinctively grab it back, head whipping up to stare at him in confusion. He scrunches his face up before shaking his head at you. 

“Sorry. Looks heavy, and I was gonna put it down for you.” His voice is small, and he folds his arms across his chest. You blink up at him for a few seconds, taking a few breaths to calm your suddenly racing heart before you drop the bag into his barely ready hands. He grunts at the weight of it, tired face surprised at how much you’ve stuffed inside. 

“This my room?” You ask him, ignoring his question of how many bodies you’ve packed in there, to walk inside the new space. 

It’s big. Entirely so, almost as big as your whole apartment from before. There’s a deep marooned carpet covering the floor, the walls a muted gray, with cream colored black out curtains covering the windows. The bed looks too big for just you to sleep in, decorated with more gray and cream sheets. Four pillows sit against a wooden headboard, and a small circular decorative one sits in the middle. There’s a purple throw blanket at the end of the bed that doesn’t match anything, but you see that its knitted, and you wonder why someone like Dynamight owns something so soft. 

There’s a TV in front of the bed, and a small couch at the end of it. A closet on one side of the room, open and empty, the other wall decorated with a wooden dresser pressed against it. The room is beautiful and so…un-Dynamight. 

“Why’s the bed so big?” Is the only thing you can muster up, shocked at how nice the room really is. Dynamight grunts at that, and you think it might’ve actually been a chuckle. He enters the room, setting your bag on the cream couch and letting you enter, before he stands back at the doorway again. 

“‘Cause I’m a big guy, with some big friends who like to invite themselves over and get too fuckin’ drunk to go home.” Dynamight leans against the doorsill with his arms crossed over his chest, yawning at the end of his sentence. His eyes are so low, and droopy, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think his quirk was actually being half lion. If you tilt your head enough, you’re sure you’d see some fluffy ears hidden in the mane of his hair. 

You look away, realizing you’ve been staring as you run your hand over the soft blanket. You look back to him, almost as if in question, but he only blinks at you. You’re quiet for a while, taking everything in. 

“Bathrooms across the hall, too. It’s all yours, since I have my own in my room.” Dynamight tells you, head jerking back to across the hall. Your eyes flicker behind him before landing on him again, feeling something warm starting to light up your chest. 

“Thank you, Dynamight.” You whisper to him, voice tiny, as you awkwardly fold your arms over your chest. You hate feeling so meek, so in debt, so needy. But he doesn’t seem to take advantage of it, rolling his eyes as he pushes off the wall. 

“We’re roommates now. Call me Bakugou.” He tells you, voice firm. You want to be an asshole and come up with some smart remark, but you can’t seem to find any. So you nod at him, once, and give him your last name, too. He smiles a tiny little smile at that before a yawn breaks his face again. He backs up from your door with a small wave, nodding to you. 

“We can discuss rent and shit in the morning. Get some sleep.” He tells you, going to turn his back before you speak up as you start unzipping your bag to pull out some pajamas. 

“I could say the same to you.” You call out to him, watching his eyebrow quirk in surprise. 

“So say it.” He nods his chin to you, slowly walking backwards to his own room. You bristle at that though, shoulders hiking up to your ears as you flip him the bird, something you’re really starting to like doing to him. 

“Fuck off.” You snap at him, no real malice in your tone. Dynamight—Bakugou, laughs at that, before turning on his heel to enter his room. He closes it without another look and you feel yourself release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in. 

So what now? You think to yourself, your eyes falling to the pajamas you’re tightly holding before glancing up to the bathroom. 

Now—a hot shower. 

The bathroom is just as big as your room, with the same maroon-grey-cream color scheme going on. He’s even got some decorative towels in here, and it makes you wonder if someone did all of this for him, or if he did it himself. Either way, it doesn’t matter much when the hot water is all you really came for. 

You go on about your nightly routine without further preamble, stiffening every time you hear a bump in the loft. You keep your gun close to you, even seating it on the toilet as you shower and brush your teeth. But nothing happens, and you dart quickly into your room, locking it behind you the moment you’re safe. 

You check the closet, behind the door, and under your bed, and find nothing thankfully. You let yourself breathe for the first time in a long time, as you sit on the side of the bed in your pajamas. You won’t stay here long, you muse over with yourself. Just use his Wi-Fi and shower and oven until you can find a reasonable place to live, even if you have to start taking extra shifts at your job, even if it means having to do less vigilante work. 

This is only temporary, you tell yourself as you lay back in bed, pulling up the purple blanket until it reaches your chin. You don’t want to get under the bed covers—it’ll signify that you’ll overstay your welcome. You can’t stay long. You can’t. 

You don’t sleep much the first night, watching the door all night long, anticipating someone to try the doorknob. It’s left alone the entire time, and only when the sunlight rises, do you finally rest your eyes and let sleep take you. 

chapter six

please do not repost or rec on tik tok!

tag list: @endlessfreaky @iamaconfusedpan

[mytho-nerd]

Here is frigg because I came up with another stupid comic idea and she’s sort of the driving force so I wanted to draw her

I had a rough time figuring out how I wanted to draw her because I both wanted her to look regal but also wanted her to have a sort of laid back vibe while also being very motherly so…yeah. Also, I was looking at other depictions of her and a couple had like a staff looking thing and I genuinely could not make out what it’s supposed to be so I didn’t draw it. I also read from like two different sources ( one of them was a tumblr post so who knows how accurate those were) her main colors are ivory, white, and blue and I thought those worked pretty well so I used them. I also had a hard time finding anything about her? Like there’s information there but most of it was just her relationship with Odin and Baldr. But I had a fun time anyway, she’s just a a kickass magic woman who loves her children! What’s there not to like!

The whole time I was also thinking about how she compares to Hera and freyja. In comparison to hera, I like to think she’s less strict and more “chill” but I like to think they’re great friends and they hang out all the time to gossip. When compared to Freyja I really wanted to make sure they looked almost nothing alike because they’re very different. I know in the myths they get interchanged a lot but I didn’t really want to represent that because it just…doesn’t make sense to me. Maybe I’m just goofy in the brain.

One last thing, I feel like I have definitely improved since the Freyja and Freyr drawing and especially since the Tyr drawing and I am very proud of that <3

Hope you guys enjoy her as much as I do