#I've probably explained all of this before

[coriihanniee]

TELL ME, WILL WE SURVIVE? ⋆˚࿔

۶ৎ SYNOPSIS : you're the 4th member of Huntrix, tasked to eliminate the Saja Boys, five powerful demons disguised as idols. However, encountering them face to face brings an achingly familiar pain to your chest.

۶ৎ PAIRING : reincarnated 4th member huntrix!reader x saja boys ۶ৎ GENRE(S) : romance, reincarnation, angst ۶ৎ WARNING(S) : mentions of death, use of weapons, slight emotional manipulation, sexy hot fictional men

۶ৎ A/N : asked if I should write this fic with a poll and 434 votes is crazy... so here it is! This will probably be my only kpdh fic 🥹 I hope this satisfies you~ It was tough to come up what to write apart from Jinu's considering the fact we don't have more information about the others T^T

The tension in the Huntrix dorm was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"I still can't believe it," Zoey muttered, pacing back and forth across the living room while clutching her notebook. "A new boy group that just debuted... and they're actual demons."

Mira sat cross-legged on the floor. Her usually perfect hair was tied back in a messy bun. "The way everyone was completely fascinated by them..." She shuddered. "Like they couldn't look away or think of anything else."

"Five guys who came out of nowhere and had everyone mesmerized on their very first performance," Rumi said grimly, her voice still hoarse from the throat issues that had sent them to the doctor in the first place. "That's not normal idol talent, that's demonic influence."

You looked up from lacing your combat boots, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and dread. While your three groupmates had discovered the Saja Boys' true nature during their trip to the clinic, you'd been stuck in back-to-back variety show recordings. Part of you felt guilty for missing such a crucial moment, but another part was almost grateful. Something about facing demons, especially these particular demons, made your chest tight with an emotion you couldn't name.

"So what's the plan?" you asked, trying to push away the odd nervousness in your stomach.

Rumi stood up, her leader instincts taking over despite her vocal strain. "Intelligence suggests they're operating out of several locations around the city. We need to track them down and neutralize the threat before their next public appearance."

"Five of them, four of us," Mira noted. "Not impossible odds, but we'll need to be smart about this."

Zoey stopped pacing and looked at you with concerned eyes. "Are you sure you're ready for this? I mean, this is our first time facing demons this powerful. The Saja Boys aren't like the lower-level creatures we usually hunt."

You nodded, though your heart was racing for reasons you couldn't explain. "I've trained for this. We all have."

"We don't know much about their individual abilities yet," Rumi warned, her voice dropping to a serious tone. "But we know they're organized and powerful enough to steal our fans and mess with the Honmoon. They've been systematically targeting our fans, hypnotising them with some kind of influence we don't understand yet.”

"We split up," Rumi continued. "Cover more ground that way. But nobody engages alone unless absolutely necessary. These aren't ordinary demons, they're organized, intelligent, and extremely dangerous."

As your groupmates continued planning, you found yourself staring out the window at the Seoul skyline, a dozen city lights twinkling like stars. Somewhere out there, five demons who had quickly become the nation's beloved idol group in less than a day were hiding, planning, hunting.

So why did the thought of facing them feel less like preparing for battle and more like... coming home?

"Ready?" Rumi's voice snapped you back to reality.

You grabbed your weapon and stood up, pushing down the strange emotions swirling in your chest. You were a member of Huntrix. You had a job to do.

Even if something deep inside you whispered that this mission would change everything.

JINU ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Three hours after the briefing, you crouched behind a concrete pillar in an abandoned office building, your heart hammering against your ribs for reasons that had nothing to do with the mission. You had tracked Jinu here alone, separated from his group members, conducting what appeared to be private business on the fifteenth floor.

The elevator had been deliberately disabled, forcing you to climb the emergency stairwell. Each step upwards felt heavier than the last, as if your body fought against an invisible current. When you finally reached the target floor, the silence was deafening.

You pressed your ear to the stairwell door, listening for voices, footsteps, any sign of demonic activity. Your weapon felt foreign in your grip, a silver-blessed blade that had never failed you in past hunts, yet now trembled with your uncertainty.

The hallway beyond stretched like a mouth waiting to swallow you whole. Fluorescent lights flickered sporadically, casting dancing shadows that made your vision blur. You moved silently, checking each empty office as you passed, until you reached the corner suite at the end of the corridor.

The door stood ajar.

Through the gap, you could see him.

Jinu sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his profile illuminated by the pale glow of Seoul's skyline through the windows. Even in the dim light, his features were sharp and aristocratic, high cheekbones, a strong jawline, dark hair that fell perfectly across his forehead. 

"The contract is simple," his voice carried through the crack in the door, smooth as silk yet cold as steel. "Your daughter's medical bills disappear. Her surgery is guaranteed successful. All I ask in return is a small favour down the line."

"What kind of favour?" The other voice was desperate, broken, a father's voice.

"Nothing that will harm your family directly. You have my word."

You should have burst through that door immediately and struck while Jinu was distracted, before he could complete whatever twisted bargain he was weaving. But the moment your eyes found his face, your entire world tilted off its axis.

Inexplicable pain lanced through your chest. Your vision blurred from the tears suddenly sliding down your cheeks. Images surged and vanished too quickly to grasp : a child's laugh, the strum of a bipa, a soft voice humming, arms wrapping around you beneath a threadbare blanket.

"I'll take care of everything. You'll never have to worry again."

You gasped, stumbling backwards and nearly dropping your weapon. The sound echoed in the empty hallway like a gunshot.

The conversation inside the office stopped abruptly.

"I believe our business here is concluded," Jinu's voice had changed, taking on an edge that made your spine stiffen. "You know how to contact me when you've made your decision."

The desperate father's voice slowly faded as he was presumably escorted out through another exit.

You pressed yourself against the wall, mind racing. You had lost the element of surprise, but the mission remained the same. Jinu was alone now. This was your chance to strike before he could reunite with the other Saja Boys.

You kicked the door open and rushed inside, blade raised and ready.

Jinu stood by the window with his back to you, hands clasped behind him as if he had been expecting your arrival. The moonlight turned his silhouette into an ethereal and angelic vision, a cruel irony given what you knew him to be.

"You're faster than I anticipated," he said without turning around. "Though not as quiet as you think."

"Turn around." Your voice came out steadier than you felt.

He complied slowly. However, when his eyes met yours, your soul cracked down the middle.

You could see a brief flicker of recognition cross his face, perhaps even mourning, or maybe grief worn thin over centuries.

You raised your blade higher, just enough to hide how much your hands were shaking.

"You've grown beautiful," he said softly.

Your breath caught in your throat, forcing down a wave of emotions that threatened to break free. You gritted your teeth. "Don't."

He stepped forward. 

"I said don't."

He moved closer.

You slashed by reflex. Jinu blocked it with his arm. He didn't exactly attack back. But he parried, blocked, dodged with the ease of someone who'd trained lifetimes for this.

It happened before you could think. Your body moved, like it already knew what to do. Your chest rose and fell too fast, ears buzzing with the rush of your heartbeat. Jinu barely fought back, annoyingly and effortlessly dodging your attacks. However, you refused to stop until the hurt had somewhere to land.

Until he disarmed you, your blade clattering across the floor.

Jinu didn't press the advantage or move to strike.

Instead, he stepped back. 

You froze for half a second. Why isn't he fighting back? Was this pity? Mercy? Did he think you couldn’t handle it?

"You don't remember." It wasn't a question.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Four hundred years ago," he said quietly, "I had a mother and a sister. We were starving. I played the bipa on street corners, until I found you, you were the only light we had left. You kept us together, even when everything fell apart."

Images tore at your mind again : your hands mending a child's robe. Jinu's fingers brushing yours. The bipa's music cutting through the dark.

"You were there," you whispered, not understanding why you knew it was true.

"I was." His voice cracked. "And I failed all of you."

"But… you're a demon now. You manipulate people. Steal their souls."

"I offer what they ask for. I offered it then, too. I was desperate and hungry. My family and you were dying in front of my eyes. Gwi-Ma found me and promised me a life of comfort and power. I thought if I accepted it, I could bring you all with me."

Your heart pounded against your ribs.

"But the gates closed behind me," he said, barely audible. "I turned around and they wouldn't let you through. I left you in the cold while I slept on silk."

You shook your head, but the memories were surfacing now,

"I searched for you after. But you died, didn't you? Alone. Like the rest of them. While I lived in luxury with blood on my hands."

The truth settled like ice in your lungs. Your memories were fractured, broken by time and pain, but you remembered enough. Remembered waiting put in the cold and the hunger that ate you alive while he feasted in hell.

"I waited for you," you whispered.

Jinu closed his eyes as if the words were a blade through his chest. "I know."

The admission ignited a fury so pure it burned through your veins like poison. He knew. While you were wasted away in that freezing hovel, praying for his return until your throat was raw. While you'd begged strangers for scraps, sold every precious thing you owned just to buy another day of life, he was feasting in warmth and safety. He knew, and he'd done nothing.

"You knew," you snarled, and the rage in your voice made him flinch. "You knew we were dying and you left us there to rot."

Your hands clenched into fists. Every cell in your body screamed for violence, for justice, for him to feel even a fraction of the agony he'd caused.

You lunged for your weapon again. He didn't stop you.

"I'm going to kill you," you said, raising it with trembling hands.

"Then do it."

However, you hesitated, the blade wavering above his heart. Tears blurred your vision as you stared down at him, this man who had once been your entire world. Your arm shook with the effort of holding the weapon steady, but your body refused to obey. Every instinct screamed at you to drive the silver through his chest, to end his suffering and yours, but your heart betrayed you.

Even after everything, you couldn't bring yourself to destroy him. The realization broke you more than his abandonment ever had.

"Why aren't you fighting back?"

"Because I loved you more than my own soul. And letting you end it is the only way I can repent for what I've done."

Your eyes widened at his words, the blade slipping from your nerveless fingers. It hit the floor with a sharp clang that echoed through the empty office.

Jinu's breath caught in his throat. He stared at the fallen weapon, in disbelief at what had just happened. His composure finally cracked, and tears spilled down his cheeks, the first real emotion you'd seen from him since you'd entered this room.

Why?" he whispered. "After everything I've done to you... why can't you do it?”

"I-I don't know…’ you said, voice cracking. “But… this doesn't mean I forgive you…”

"I wouldn't dare ask."

"And I'm not letting you walk away."

He nodded, tears tracking down his cheeks.

You stepped closer, your heart shattering with every breath.

"This time, we need to talk, about the four hundred years you stole from us."

ABBY ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The underground fight club pulsed with sweat, blood, and money changing hands. You pressed your earpiece, static crackling back at you as you tried to reach Rumi. 

"Rumi, do you copy? I lost visual on the target."

Nothing but interference.

Intel had tracked two Saja Boys to this district, Abby and Mystery had split from the main group. Following a thorough discussion, you and the other girls decided to split into duos to ensure greater safety. You and Rumi were supposed to stay together, but the crowds and maze-like underground tunnels had separated you. Now you were alone in the bowels of Seoul's illegal fighting scene.

The roar of the crowd guided you deeper into the complex. Through a doorway marked with graffiti, you found the main arena, a concrete pit surrounded by screaming spectators waving fistfuls of cash. 

In the center of the ring stood Abby.

He moved like violence incarnate, all muscle and controlled fury as he circled his opponent. Abby was shirtless, his body a map of scars and fresh bruises, sweat making his skin gleam under the harsh lights. 

The expression that you caught on his face made your breath catch. Pure, undiluted joy. He was having the time of his life.

His opponent lunged. Abby sidestepped with fluid grace, then drove his fist into the man's ribs with a wet crack that echoed over the crowd's cheers as the man fell to the ground hard. 

"Next!" Abby called out, not even breathing heavily. His grin was sharp enough to cut glass. "Who else wants to dance?"

Three men climbed into the ring together as the crowd grew wild.

You should have taken the shot then, but watching him move was hypnotic. Every punch and dodge was precise and calculated. 

Two opponents were quickly taken down, and the third hesitated to swing.

"Come on," Abby taunted, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Don't tell me you're scared now."

The man reluctantly charged. Abby caught him mid-lunge and slammed him into the concrete so hard the ground cracked.

The crowd erupted as money flew. Abby raised his arms in victory, basking in the adoration.

You waited until the chaos died down, until the crowd dispersed and the arena emptied. Abby was collecting his winnings from the promoter when you finally made your move.

"Good fights tonight," you said, stepping out of the shadows.

He went completely still for a second, so brief you almost missed it. Then he turned around with that cocky grin already sliding into place. 

"Well, well. What do we have here?" He looked you up and down, but it wasn't the casual appreciation of a stranger. It was recognition wrapped in careful performance. "You don't look like the usual groupies. Too pretty. Too dangerous."

"I'm not a groupie."

"No kidding." He stuffed the money in his back pocket and grabbed his shirt from where he'd thrown it, but didn't put it on. Still showing off, but his movements were more deliberate now, as if he was buying time to think.

 "So what are you? Reporter? Cop? Or just someone who likes watching sweaty men beat the hell out of each other?"

"I'm here for you."

His grin widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Well, that's direct. Though I gotta say, most people who want me specifically don't usually start with small talk."

The arena was empty now except for the two of you and the lingering smell of violence.

Perfect.

"You're coming with me," you said, hand moving to your weapon.

"Am I?" He stepped closer, and the playful mask slipped just slightly. "And here I was thinking you might be here for something else entirely."

"This isn't a game."

"Everything's a game, sweetheart. The trick is figuring out if we're playing by the same rules." He was circling you now, but it felt less predatory and more like he was trying to get a different angle, trying to see something in your face. "Though I gotta ask, do you even know who I am?"

You drew your blade. His expression shifted, resignation mixed with anticipation.

"There it is," he said quietly, flexing his fingers. "Was wondering when we'd get to this part."

He moved faster than you'd expected, still testing you. Every move of his was calculated, like he was trying to figure out how much you remembered about fighting. 

About fighting him specifically.

"Come on," he said, dodging your blade with familiar ease. "I know you're better than this. You always were."

The words slipped out before he could catch them. You saw the moment he realized his mistake, saw him try to cover it with that cocky grin.

"Always were what?" you demanded, pressing your attack.

"Always were too careful," he said, but his voice was strained now. "Stop holding back."

"I'm trying not to kill you."

"How thoughtful." His voice was softer now, almost fond. "Always looking out for everyone else."

Before you could ask what he meant by that, he caught your wrist and pulled you against his chest. For a moment, you were close enough to see the conflict in his eyes.

"Got you," he said, but it sounded more like a prayer than a taunt.

You drove your elbow back into his ribs and spun free. He let you go reluctantly.

"There we go," he said, rubbing his side. "That's more like it."

You came at him again, blade swinging through the air. This time when he grabbed your wrist and twisted until you had to drop the weapon, his grip was careful, like he'd done this exact move with you before.

"How do you know how I fight?" you asked.

The question made him freeze. His grip loosened just enough for you to break free, but instead of reaching for another weapon, you just stared at him.

"Have we met before?" you asked.

All the pretense drained out of his expression at your question, replaced by rawness and desperation.

"Every day for a hundred and twenty three years," he whispered.

"What are you talking about?"

His hands came up to frame your face, thumbs tracing your cheekbones like he was memorizing them all over again.

"You really don't remember," he said, and his voice cracked on the words. "God, I hoped... I thought maybe..."

His touch was so gentle, and his voice was softer now. 

"How do you know my name?" you whispered.

"Because I've been saying it every day for over a century." He laughed bitterly "Because it was the last thing you heard before you died."

Images flashed through your mind : rain-soaked streets, a thin boy with kind eyes, the sound of your own scream echoing off alley walls.

You stumbled backward, hand pressed to your temple. "What's happening to me?"

"Hey." He reached for you, movements careful now, gentle. "Hey, it's okay. You're okay."

"I'm not okay. I'm seeing things that aren't real."

"What kind of things?"

"A boy. Someone I loved." The words came out before you could stop them. "Someone who died because of me."

Abby went very still. "How did he die?"

"I don't know. I can't—the memories aren't mine." You looked up at him desperately. "This is crazy. I don't even know you."

"Yes you do." His voice was barely above a whisper. "You do know me. You just can't remember because dying screws with your head."

"I didn't die."

"Yeah, you did." He was close enough to touch now, hands hovering just shy of your skin. "Hundred and twenty three years ago. In an alley. They put a knife in your back while I watched, too weak to do anything about it."

The memories hit like a tsunami : cobblestones slick with rain, rough hands dragging you away from a thin boy who was calling your name, the burn of steel between your ribs.

"Oh god," you whispered.

"I made you a promise," Abby continued, his voice thick with a century's worth of grief. "On your grave. That if I ever got the chance to see you again, I'd be strong enough to protect you."

You looked at him, and saw past the muscle and scars to the boy underneath. The boy who'd loved you. The boy who'd become a monster for the chance to keep you safe.

"You became a demon for me?"

"I became whatever I had to become." His hands finally made contact, cupping your face gently, as if any more pressure might shatter you into a million pieces. "I don't care what that makes me. I care about keeping you alive."

Footsteps echoed from the tunnel behind you. Rumi's voice called out your name, worried.

"Shit," you whispered. "My partner's coming."

Abby's expression hardened instantly, all the vulnerability vanishing behind that familiar cocky mask. "Right. Back to reality."

"Abby, wait—"

"No, it's fine." He stepped back, putting distance between you, but his eyes never left your face. "You've got a job to do. I get it."

"I can't just—"

"What? Kill me? We both know you're not going to do that." He grinned. "So what's the play here, sweetheart? You gonna tell your partner you found me and just... let me walk away?”

The footsteps were getting closer. You had maybe thirty seconds before Rumi found you.

"I don't know," you admitted.

"Well, you better figure it out fast." Despite his words, he wasn't moving towards the exits. He was just standing there, waiting for you to decide his fate again.

"There's another exit through the back," you said quickly. "Behind the equipment room."

His eyebrows shot up. "You're letting me go?"

"I'm giving you a head start."

"Why?"

Because somewhere in your fractured memories, you remembered loving him. Because he'd spent over a century becoming strong enough to protect you, and maybe you could be strong enough to protect him too.

"Because I remember enough," you said simply.

His mask cracked just for a moment. "This isn't over."

"I know."

"I'll find you again."

"I know."

He started towards the back exit, then paused. "Hey, sweetheart?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to die before I see you again. I'm getting really tired of that particular tragedy."

In a blink of an eye, he was gone, vanishing into the shadows just as Rumi's voice echoed closer.

ROMANCE ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The rooftop overlooked the glittering chaos of Seoul's entertainment district, where neon signs blazed advertisements for idol groups and concert venues stretched towards the horizon. You crouched behind the air conditioning unit, silver blade steady in your grip as you surveyed the empty space. 

Wind carried the distant sound of traffic and late-night revelers, but here, twenty stories above the city's pulse, silence reigned.

"Beautiful view, isn't it?"

You tensed, weapon raised when you heard his voice, achingly familiar despite being impossible to place. It wrapped around your ribs like phantom fingers, squeezing until your chest felt tight with inexplicable longing.

Romance emerged from behind the rooftop access door with fluid grace, hands tucked casually into his pockets. Under the city's electric glow, his features appeared sharp and ethereal, pink hair catching the wind as he regarded you with calm amusement.

"Though I suspect you're not here for sightseeing," he continued, taking measured steps forward. "Hello, hunter."

Your blade remained steady despite the tremor in your voice. "You know what I am."

"Of course I know exactly what you are." His smile held no malice, only a strange sadness that made your throat constrict. "The question is, do you know what I am?"

Without warning, you lunged.

Romance flowed backwards like water, your strike cutting through empty air as he spun away from your advance. He moved with practiced precision, dodging rather than retaliating, speaking in that same measured tone even as you pressed your attack.

"You fight beautifully," he observed, sidestepping another slash. "Trained well. Committed."

You snarled in frustration, spinning to catch him with a backhand strike that he avoided by millimeters. "Shut up and fight back."

"Why would I want to hurt you?"

The question threw off your rhythm, long enough for Romance to close the distance between you. His hand found your wrist with gentle firmness, and your weapon clattered across the concrete.

You struck out with your free hand, but he caught that too, holding both your wrists as you struggled against his grip. His touch burned with unnatural warmth, sending sparks up your arms that had nothing to do with his demonic nature.

"Let me go," you hissed.

"In a moment." Romance's eyes searched your face with desperate intensity. "I need you to see—"

He shifted, a small and bright object tumbled from his pocket, a ring that caught the neon light as it fell. Simple silver band, modest stone, nothing extraordinary except for the way it made your heart stop.

Pain lanced through your chest. Your knees buckled as emotion crashed over you in waves, grief so profound it stole your breath, love so pure it felt like drowning, loss that cut deeper than any blade. You didn't understand where these feelings originated, only that they threatened to tear you apart from the inside.

Romance released you immediately, crouching to retrieve the ring with reverent care. "You feel it too," he whispered.

"I don't—" You stumbled backward, pressing a hand to your chest where the ache pulsed with each heartbeat. "What did you do to me?"

"Nothing. This is yours." He held up the ring, and the sight of it made tears spring to your eyes without explanation. "It was meant for you."

"What—that's impossible."

"You taught me what love felt like, centuries ago." Romance said quietly, his mask of casual amusement finally cracking. "Before you, I was nothing. A shadow in my own house, invisible to parents who saw only disappointment when they looked at me. You were the first person to show me kindness, love me without expecting anything in return."

He cradled the ring like it held his entire world. "I saved for months to buy this. Worked every odd job I could find, skipped meals. I practiced the proposal speech until I could recite it in my sleep."

His confession struck a place you didn’t know could still hurt. Your eyes flickered back to the ring again, breath hitching.

"You fell ill a few weeks before I planned to propose." His voice cracked, centuries of grief pouring through the fractures. "I held your hand for seventy two hours straight. I didn't eat or sleep, just sat there begging you to stay with me."

"Y-You're lying." But your voice had no strength behind it.

"Your last coherent words were asking me to promise I'd love someone else after you were gone. You were so worried about me being alone." Tears tracked down his perfect cheeks, and seeing them made your own eyes burn. "I lied and said yes because I thought it would help you let go peacefully."

The pain in your chest intensified, spreading through your ribs like poison. "That's not—"

"I tried to keep that promise as a human. I spent years searching for someone who could make me feel what you had.” Romance's voice dropped to a whisper. “But no one came close to you.”

"You became a demon because you couldn't move on..."

"I made a pact with Gwi-Ma after years of failing to love anyone else. I became something that could create love, manufacture and distribute it to anyone desperate enough to want it." His smile was self-loathing incarnate. "If I couldn't feel real love, at least I could give others a taste of what you gave me."

"You're feeding on people and hurting them."

"I'm keeping my promise to you." His eyes blazed with centuries of accumulated pain and twisted devotion. "Every heart I touch and every moment of artificial bliss I create is all for you. You asked me to love someone else, and this is the only way I know how."

The logic was twisted, but the raw anguish in his voice made your chest tighten with sympathy you couldn't afford. "You're manipulating innocent people."

"I give them what they desperately need. The feeling of being cherished, desired, worthy of devotion. When the illusion breaks, yes, they're disappointed. But at least they got to experience something transcendent." Romance stood slowly, the ring disappearing back into his coat. "Tell me that's not better than the emptiness they had before."

"It's a love built on lies."

"All love is lies in the end." His smile returned, but it held no warmth. "The difference is I'm honest about the illusion I create."

You backed towards the rooftop edge, every instinct screaming at you to flee. The mission was clear, eliminate the demon. However, your hands shook as you reached for a backup blade, and the pain in your chest made it difficult to breathe. Each word he'd spoken felt like a knife twisting deeper.

"This isn't over," you managed, but the words came out weak.

"I know." Romance made no move to stop you as you retreated. "But I won't fight you anymore. I've caused enough damage to someone I—"

He cut himself off, the unfinished words hung in the air between you.

"Someone you what?" The question escaped before you could stop it.

"Someone I loved more than my own existence." His voice was barely audible above the wind. "Someone I'm still failing, even now."

The words crashed over you like a tidal wave. Ring. Proposal. Seventy two hours. Promise. Death. Demon. Love. The pieces swirled in your mind, too many fragments to assemble together, each one cutting deeper than the last. Your training screamed at you to stay, but your heart couldn't bear another second of his confessions.

You turned and ran.

The fire escape blurred past as you descended, taking stairs three at a time until your legs gave out two floors from the bottom. You collapsed on the landing, gasping for air that wouldn't come, pressing your palms against your eyes as if you could physically force back the tears threatening to spill.

His voice echoed in your mind : I practiced the proposal speech until I could recite it in my sleep.

Why did that hurt? You were a hunter trained to kill demons, not sympathize with their tragic backstories.

You forced yourself to continue down the fire escape, your movements mechanical and disconnected. 

Seventy two hours straight. I didn't eat or sleep, just sat there begging you to stay.

Your back hit the alley wall and you slid down until you were sitting on the cold concrete, arms wrapped around your knees. Hot tears streamed down your face as you grieved for reasons you couldn't name.

This couldn't have happened before. You would remember dying. You would remember being loved with that kind of desperate devotion. You would remember someone saving money for months to buy you a ring.

...

Wouldn't you?

MYSTERY ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You lean against the Huntrix dorm balcony railing, watching Seoul pulse beneath you like a neon heartbeat. The city sprawls endless and electric, towers of glass catching streetlight, traffic threading through concrete arteries. Behind you, voices clash over mission prep.

"We should split up and handle each demon individually," Rumi insisted. "Pick them off one by one."

"That's suicide," Mira counters. "We stick together, overwhelm them with combined firepower. Safety in numbers."

"Okay, okay!" Zoey jumps between them with enthusiastic gestures. "What if we compromise? Split into pairs? Best of both worlds, right? Right?"

There are weak spots in the Honmoon barrier scattered across Seoul like broken bones. You've memorized their coordinates, trained for this until your muscles know the patterns by heart. So why won't your pulse settle tonight? 

The argument behind you fades to background noise as you stare at the skyline. 

Suddenly, a soft and delicate melody drifts across the night air.

It felt like a tune you hum when your hands are full of flowers, when you're dizzy with new love. It shouldn't reach you from this height. Seoul's chaos should swallow such fragile notes whole, but the song finds you anyway.

Your breathing stops. You've heard this melody before in dreams that leave you gasping at dawn. 

Across the urban maze, movement flickers near a crumbling rooftop. A shadow that doesn't belong.

You don't hesitate one second. 

The balcony railing becomes your launching point. Rooftop to rooftop, your feet find purchase on surfaces that shouldn't hold human weight. The melody grows stronger with each leap, pulling you forward like a current.

Seoul blurs beneath you, kaleidoscope light and shadow, lives stacked in vertical towers. You follow the song through this maze, breath controlled, heart pounding against your ribs.

The tune leads you to an abandoned building that time forgot. Dark windows, cracked facade, studio spaces that once housed art but now hold only dust. You slip through a broken skylight, landing silent on debris-covered floors.

The music comes to a stop.

Mystery stands beside a shattered mirror, fingers turning over what looks like an old locket. He doesn't startle when you drop in. Instead, his mouth curves into a smile that holds too many secrets.

"You've always been good at finding me."

Your weapon clears its holster, barrel trained on his chest, and his smile deepens.

Ice floods your veins. Your grip tightens on the weapon. "Who are you?"

He laughs softly, like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. "I would tell you now, but where's the fun in that?"

"This isn't a game." Your voice comes out sharper than intended.

“Are you sure?” He tilts his head, studying you with eyes that hold starlight and shadows. "You followed my song across half the city. Left your friends mid-mission. That sounds like playing to me."

Heat rises in your cheeks. He's right, and you hate that he's right. "Answer me. Why do you know me?"

He steps closer curiously, like he's watching a flower bloom in real time. "You really don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?"

"All those summer nights when you'd sneak out just to hear me play." His voice drops to a whisper. "The way you'd fall asleep in my arms while I hummed that exact melody."

Your heart stutters. The exact melody that's been haunting your dreams for months. "That's impossible. I would remember—"

"You would remember me, wouldn’t you?" He reaches out, fingers barely grazing your cheek. 

You should pull away, you know you should put distance between you and this stranger who claims to know your past. But his touch feels familiar, like coming home after a long journey.

"You haven't changed. Well, except for the blade." His gaze drops to the weapon still trained on him. "You never needed those before."

"Before what? Before when?" Desperation creeps into your voice.

He smiles again, stepping back. "Don't remember me yet. It's more fun this way."

"Fun?" The word explodes from you. "You think this is fun? I'm losing my mind trying to figure out who you are, and you think it's entertaining?"

"I think," he says, moving towards the broken window, "that some things are worth waiting for. Some mysteries are sweeter when they unfold slowly."

Moonlight catches in his dark hair as he pauses at the window's edge. "Besides, you always did love puzzles. You used to spend hours on them when you couldn't sleep."

Another piece of impossible knowledge. Another fragment that feels true but shouldn't exist. "How do you know that?"

"I know lots of things about you." His grin turns wicked. "You bite your lip when you're thinking too hard. You always eat the corners of sandwiches first. You used to trace constellations on my back with your fingertips."

Your weapon wavers. "Stop."

"Why? Does it hurt to remember what you've forgotten?"

"I haven't forgotten anything. I don't even know who you are." But even as you say it, phantom sensations ghost across your fingertips.

"Liar." He says it fondly. "You remember pieces. Little fragments that visit you in dreams. That's why you followed the melody tonight."

He's right again. You hate that he's right again.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he says, preparing to slip through the window.

"Wait—" The word tears from your throat. "At least tell me your name."

He pauses, half-silhouetted against the night sky. "You'll remember it when you're ready."

"What if I'm never ready? What if I never remember?"

For a moment, his smile falters. Vulnerability flickers across his features. "You will. You have to."

He turns to leave, but moonlight catches his profile at just the right angle. Your breath hitches. Along his temple, barely visible unless you know what to look for, the faint outline of demonic markings. Intricate patterns that shimmer like oil on water, there one second and gone the next.

Your training kicks in before your heart can catch up. The weapon in your hands shifts, finger finding the trigger. He's a demon. You're a hunter. The math is simple.

His hair shifts slightly, and for just a moment, you catch a glimpse of his eyes through the strands.

"You see it now," he says quietly. "The monster I am.”

Your finger hovers over the trigger. This is what you've trained for. What you've dedicated your life to. But something deep inside you hesitates.

Your hand trembles. The weapon feels impossibly heavy.

"Tomorrow," he says again, stepping towards the window. "When you remember who we were, you'll understand why I can't fight you. Why I'll never fight you."

In the blink of an eye, he's gone, leaving you alone with the echo of his voice, that phantom melody, and the terrible knowledge that you just let a demon walk away.

You land back on the balcony, chest heaving. The sliding door opens before you can compose yourself. Rumi, Mira, and Zoey spill out, eyes wide with panic.

"Where were you?! We've been searching everywhere—"

"Can we go tomorrow instead?" Your voice sounds foreign. "I don't feel great."

They exchange loaded glances. Eventually Rumi nods. "Of course. Rest is part of prep too."

You turn away before they can see the cracks spreading across your composure and witness how your hands shake.

That night, your bed feels like a battleground. The melody plays on repeat behind your closed eyes. Each note carries weight you can't name and memories you can't quite grasp.

The mystery of it all pressed against your mind. What past did you share? Why couldn't you remember? 

Mystery himself seemed to revel in the unknowing, content to watch you struggle with fragments of what you'd once been to each other. 

BABY ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Something was wrong with your hands.

They'd been trembling since you left the dorm, and no amount of clenching your fists or pressing them against your thighs could make it stop. Rumi's words echoed in your head like a mantra you couldn't shake, "Don't let his face fool you. They're still dangerous demons working for Gwi-Ma nevertheless."

Pictures of the Saja Boys were already circulating online in less than a day. Five demons who'd seemingly appeared overnight, stealing the hearts and souls of your fans.

"Ugh, I’m going to beat their stupid pretty little faces," Zoey had said, tapping the images with her pen. "Seriously, look at them! Acting all mysterious and brooding like they're in some kind of boy band. I mean—they are… but look! The internet's already making fan edits—fan edits! Of demons!" She'd gestured wildly at her tablet, where countless social media posts were flooding in by the minute. "Half the comments are people asking where they can meet them. It's insane!”

You'd barely heard her. Your eyes had been drawn to one face among the five, sharp features that still held traces of boyish softness.

His face had made your chest tighten with recognition, like looking at a stranger who wore the face of someone from a half-remembered dream.

Why did he feel familiar?

The neighbourhood around you was a study in urban decay, half the buildings scheduled for demolition, the other half already hollow shells. You decided to turn a corner and came across an abandoned playground.

You knew this place.

You stopped mid-step at the chain-link gate. The monkey bars where someone had scraped their knee. The slide with the chip in the yellow paint. The bike rack, now empty and listing to one side like a broken rib.

This was from your dreams. Or maybe...

"Didn't expect you to come."

The voice drifted from somewhere behind the playground equipment with an edge that made your hand move instinctively to your weapon. You'd heard that voice before, in fragments that scattered whenever you tried to grasp them.

"Show yourself," you called, stepping through the gate. The metal squealed in protest, the sound echoing off empty buildings like a warning.

He laughed mockingly. "Still giving orders, I see."

He emerged from behind the slide, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the chill of the night. He looked barely out of his teens, with features that still held traces of boyish softness despite the hard set of his jaw.

"You always had a thing for chasing monsters," he said, tilting his head as he studied you with uncomfortable intensity. Those dark eyes flickered, darting away from your face as if looking directly at you caused him physical pain.

"How do you know me?"

Baby shrugged with affected indifference. "Lucky guess."

The way he held himself like he was trying very hard not to care, made anger flare in your chest. "That's not an answer."

He kicked at a piece of broken glass, sending it skittering across the asphalt. "Maybe you're just forgettable."

The casual cruelty in his voice should have stung. You drew your blade, silver gleaming in the late afternoon light.

"Are you going to come quietly, or do we have to do this the hard way?"

Baby looked at the weapon, then back at your face. For a moment, vulnerability flickered across his features before he crushed it down.

"Do what the hard way?" He stepped closer, invading your personal space with  reckless confidence. "Fight me? Kill me?" His voice dropped, a hint of intimacy laced inside, bitter amusement threading through each word. "You wouldn't be the first to try."

You raised the blade between you, but instead of stopping, he knocked it aside with casual violence, the metal ringing as it struck the nearby swing set. Before you could recover, he was on you, crowding you back against the chain-link fence with predatory grace.

"I waited for you, you know," he said, one hand braced against the fence beside your head, effectively trapping you. "Stupid thing to do when you're a kid."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. "What?"

His free hand came up to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. The touch was rough, but not enough to hurt.

"You really don't remember," he said, his laugh sharp enough to cut. "How convenient."

"Remember what?" The desperation in your voice made you flinch, but you couldn't take it back.

"Us." The single word fell between you, sending ripples through memories you couldn't quite grasp. "This place. The promises you made."

You tried to push him away, but he caught your wrists, pinning them against the fence. His grip was careful despite his aggression, strong enough to hold you, gentle enough not to bruise.

"You died," he said, voice flat and matter-of-fact. "And I had to grow up. Happy now?"

The world tilted sideways. Images flashed through your mind like broken film, a boy with tears streaming down his face, small hands clutching yours, a voice promising forever, all turned into ashes now.

"I'll never leave you."

The words rose from deep in your throat. Baby's eyes snapped to yours, wide with… hope, if hope weren't such a dangerous thing for creatures like him to carry.

"You broke your promise first," he whispered, and the accusation send a chill down your spine. 

You stumbled when he finally released you, pressing a hand to your chest where the ache was spreading like cracks in ice. Baby stepped back, flexing his fingers, trying to forget the feel of your skin.

"I don't—" You shook your head, struggling to make sense of the fragments flashing through your mind. "I don't understand."

"No," Baby said, his mask completely slipping. "You never did understand. You were always too good for this world."

He kicked your fallen blade across the asphalt, the metal scraping against concrete. "That's why you had to die, isn't it? Pure things don't last in places like this."

The words were bitter, but his voice cracked on the last syllable. He turned away quickly, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Next time we meet, I won't be nice," he said without looking back.

"Please, wait—"

He froze at the sound of your plea, shoulders going rigid. You thought he might turn around. Instead, he let out a short and humourless laugh.

"Begging now? Huh, pathetic."

H walked away, each step deliberate and final. Just as he reached the edge of the playground, he stopped.

"The songs," he said quietly, not turning around. "Those stupid lullabies you used to sing when I had nightmares. I still—"

He cut himself off with a sharp shake of his head.

"Forget it. Forget everything."

He simply walked away down the empty street like any other person with anywhere else to be. You watched until he turned the corner and vanished from sight, leaving you alone with your forgotten blade and the sound of wind through rusted swings.

You picked up your weapon with trembling hands, but the silver felt cold and foreign now, it now felt like it belonged to someone else entirely.

@coriihanniee 💌

˖➴ reblogs are appreciated! ty for reading! <3

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[runningracingdancingchasing]

She'd imagined sitting him down on the couch, maybe with some alcohol to make it all easier, imagined the lighting and how it would play on his features. But now they were in the kitchen, and the lighting was completely different, harsh and bright in comparison to her imagination. Well, that was on her. She was the one who'd started the conversation now instead of later.

Clearing her throat again, she found it hard to find her words, and even harder to look at him.

"I've been rehearsing this all day," she confessed with a little smile that didn't reach haunted eyes, toying with her own fingers while wishing she had Abraçinhos to hug. But he was in the living room, on the couch, where she'd meant to have this conversation. "But I can't seem to remember how it was going to go. Sorry if I'm about to ramble..."

Taking a deep breath, she thought through all of the myriad of rehearsals she'd gone through, then picked a place and started. Managing to look at him for a moment, she iterated, "Just know that I'm telling you this because you're my best friend and I trust you." That was very important. It was easy for Rapunzel to love. She loved her friends almost right away. But trusting people wasn't so simple. That probably had something to do with what she was about to tell him...

Okay, here we go. Just breathe and... start. "Okay, so the thing is... I can't remember anything about my past up until a few years ago," she explained softly, "and that's by design. Something... happened when I was little. I'm not sure exactly what, but I know it was traumatic. My therapist thought -- and I agree -- that if I want to function as an adult, I had to lock it all away. It was really the only way to move forward. But that's why there are things that basically everyone knows that I don't know anything about. Which is so frustrating and embarrassing, because I'm usually so smart!"

Even talking about it now, she could feel that locked closet of memories getting banged on from the inside, and her shame from not knowing how schools worked. Her focus started turning inward, a slippery slope to a bad night, even if he decided she was worth hanging onto. Without thinking, she got a glass of cold water and sat down at the table again, pressing the cool glass against her face and neck to keep herself in the here and now and with him.

"There are things I don't remember so much as feel. Echoes of a voice I can't identify or- or thinking someone's going to react negatively to something when no one with half a heart would. Sometimes... it's like a part of my brain is trying to remember the stuff I've deliberately forgotten, and the rest of my brain is trying to keep me from remembering. When that happens I just kind of... go away. Like, I'm there, physically, but my mind..." She paused to sip some water and ran her fingers idly over the place mat in front of her, taking in the texture as the cool drink soothed her throat, keeping her grounded. She surprised herself by the fact that she didn't feel like she was going to cry. Not yet. If he decided this was it, yeah, she'd spend the rest of the night crying. But not yet.

The more she thought about it, the more guilty she felt for being this way and subjecting him to her. Had she trapped him by asking him out before she told him this? But she was telling him now, and giving him an out, right? That was good of her, wasn't it? She liked him so much that she's was putting her biggest flaw right out there in the open and shining a light on it. If he couldn't handle it, well... she could just leave Rio after all.

God, she didn't want to leave Rio. Didn't want to leave him.

A sad, scared sigh escaped her. "I'm broken, Rai. I'm broken, and I don't know if I can ever be fixed all the way. I know I should have told you this before I asked you out, because you deserve to have an informed choice, to know what you're getting into, and I totally get it if... if it's too much. If it's a deal-breaker. I can be a lot as it is, and this is just... it's a lot more. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

And she really hoped he'd stay, despite it. And she was terrified he wouldn't. Her head and stomach swam unpleasantly, pizza and wine suddenly not seeming like such a good idea.

He'd busied himself washing out their wine glasses. Washing dishes was his least favourite of all chores - which he despised in general - but she'd gone through the effort to make dinner, and the least he could do was to help clean up.

He felt his shoulders tense a little as she spoke. Serious and important... Her tone and the entire vibe changed, and he tilted his head at her, a little furrow between his brows.

"Sure, girl." He set the glasses down and dried off his hands, leaning his hips back against the kitchen counter and folding his arms loosely. "What's, uh... what's up?" He deliberately kept his mind as blank as possible, refusing to jump to scary conclusions.

[gremlin-girly]

Date Your Dad

Characters: Alexei Shostakov, f!reader, Yelena Belova, Bucky Barnes, John Walker, Ava , Bob Reynolds. (Alexei x Reader is hinted at!)

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, copied or put through an AI machine. All of my work is 18+ Read at your own risk.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ for language and suggestive themes, fluff

Summary: When Yelena pranks you relentlessly, you threaten to date her dad. She doesn't expect you to follow through with it.

Word count: on mobile sorry

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

A/N: Not my usual thing ik but this was an unhinged drabble idea that's been sat in the drafts lol. I did actually finish my 10 fics I just have to edit them now 😈 Enjoy!

"YELENA!" You screech as icy water trickles down your spine. Yelena had been on a pranking kick after re-watching Home Alone and you seemed to be the most common victim after John.

You can hear Yelena's laughter from three doors up and march yourself to then before pounding the door furiously. Your hair, your outfit, your pride were soaked from the bucket of cold water she had left above an ajar door.

"If you keep this up I'll date your dad Yelena." You warn her through her bedroom door.

"No. You wouldn't." She laughs.

"I would." You argue back. "Try me, Lena. Try me."

The next morning, not heeding your warning, Yelena swaps out your sugar for salt in your coffee and you plot the demise of her sanity.

As soon as Alexei enters the kitchen, you beam at him and offer him a spritely good morning, which he returns in kind.

"What do you have planned for today?" You ask him, playing obviously nonchalant.

"Not much. Only training and making dinner for everyone." He replies, cracking eggs into a mug

"Could I... join you?" You ask shyly, batting your eyelashes. "I need to work on getting stronger and I'd love to help you cook."

Alexei blinks at you, stunned for a moment before drinking his eggs in one gulp and nodding. You can feel Yelena's eyes searing into the back of your skull and once Alexei awkwardly leaves to change for training Yelena addresses you.

"I know what you're doing." She says. "You won't win in making me uncomfortable."

"I've watched him chug six raw eggs this morning - without throwing up." You whisper smugly as you pass her. "And I'm just soooo impressed. Besides, it's not fair that your dad cooks for everyone. I just want to help."

Yelena frowns into her cereal and shakes her head. You're trying to rile her up. She can't let you win.

And then, it got worse.

Any time you were in the kitchen it was;"Alexei, could you help me open this jar please?" Or "Alexei, could you be a peach and reach hand me the cumin hidden on the topshelf please?"

Anytime you were in the gym together, you wore less baggy clothes and made a point to stand closer to Alexei and feel up his muscles ("Woah, look at those tree trunks! You must be stronger than the Hulk!") to which Alexei would flex them for you and show off his tattoos.

Yelena began to notice the way her dad would stand closer to you, or show you cat videos, or pictures of her when she was little. The way he would light up like New Year's when you'd enter a room and smile dopily when you would look over at him.

By the end of the week, Yelena was at the end of her tether but seeing you come home with milkshakes, laughing at something Alexei had said, she almost begged you to stop. However, when she'd slyly spoken to her dad about where you had both been, he'd happily informed her that it was a date. And that was what made her snap.

As she sat with her head in her hands, explaining to the rest of the team what had been going on, Bob rubbed her shoulder reassuringly whilst John and Ava laughed.

"You pressed her." John shrugs. "She did warn you."

Ava shakes her head. "I'm surprised she's managed to keep it up for so long."

"Guys, this my dad." Yelena sighs. "He will probably be in love with her by Sunday and she will break his heart!"

"Oh." The three younger members say in unison. Bucky doesn't look up from his report.

"Then do we break them up?" John asks, vaguely against at the the thought of Alexei sobbing uncontrollably over him like when they watched The Iron Giant on Team Movie Night.

Bob hums thoughtfully. "Maybe you should just stop annoying her and apologise?"

Yelena shoots him a glare and he raises his hands apologetically. "Forget I suggested it."

"You know you have to do it." Ava huffs and Yelena sighs in defeat and begins getting to her feet.

"I know." She hangs her head. You had won. "I'll be right back."

As she heads to your room, Yelena can hear the faintest of whispers and giggles emanating from behind your door. Then she hears something no child ever wants to hear; a breathy sigh of her father's name.

Her cheeks go red with anger and embarassment. How dare you! That's her dad! He may not be the smartest hero all the time but playing with his feelings was not okay. Steeling herself and scrunching her eyes she barges in.

"Lena?" Alexei's voice is soft and surprised and then your voice follows.

"You okay?"

She peeks one eye open and you stand next to Alexei, holding a small fluffy ginger guinea pig that wheeks in annoyance that you've stopped lavishing it with attention.

"You have ruined your surprise." Alexei huffs dramatically but he grins over at his daughter who is utterly flabbergasted. "Meet Natalia."

"It's a boy, Alexei-"

"Nathaniel." Alexei says without skipping a beat. "I did some research on guinea pigs and apparently they get lonely so you have to keep them in pairs."

Alexei beams as he takes the hairy creature from your delicate grasp and offers him to Yelena. "Y/N was helping me pick him out."

"He's got a big personality." You chuckle. "And such nice hair. I think Bucky has some competition."

Yelena thinks of her guinea pig, also named Bob, as she holds the distinguished Nathaniel in her hands. She had been meaning to get Bob a companion but between missions, it must have slipped her mind. Her lip quivers a little but she beams almost as brightly as her dad as she thanks you both profusely, silently vowing to never prank you again.

"Whew. That was close." Alexei sighs when Yelena finally leaves ten minutes later after two rounds of bone crushing hugs, shooting you a big, goofy smile.

You smile back. "Maybe next time we can tell her about us."

END

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[cheschesterpossum]

Here's the "lil' something something" I've been working on for your Creators In the Flesh AU! The fic ran away from me. It was only supposed to be a drabble, but then I got carried away. And now it's, like, an entire one-shot.

(Also, I've elected to call myself the Perchance Anon, bc it's funny.)

Also, just wanna put a few warnings here for yandere behaviors, drugging/kidnapping, slight blood, some of the lore-related liberties I took when writing this which I can explain later, and what is probably going to be some ooc-ness on SG! Rung's part. I haven't written for him before. So, yeah...

You enter the unkempt project lab slowly, as the scientist responsible for checking in on, and maintaining the dimension you'd had a hand in creating. Stepping through the interdimensional groundbridge, and setting to work bringing the diagnostic systems back to life. You note immediately that a strange layer of dust blankets the keyboard you type on, whilst you work and it irritates you that nobody cleaned this up while you were away. Shouldn't somebody have been here to clean all of this? Surely Rung would've seen to that, at least. He was always so thorough when it came to dusting, cleaning, and well, whatever task you gave him so he wouldn't bother you whilst you did your job. When you were around, at least. You'd heard from the others that he wasn't always that cooperative when you took a sick day.

You pause to light a cigarette before continuing, and thus fail to notice the quiet pattering of a single set of pedes trailing into the groundbridge emitter's room. A few minutes later, your diagnostic tests finish, and you take the datapad containing the report with you when you trudge back into the groundbridge emitter's room. Almost completely ignoring the fact that you are no longer alone in favor of completing your final task for the day. But. As to be expected, because it could never be Easy coming here. The groundbridge closes mere moments before you could cross back through it. As though somebody was waiting to pull the plug on you.

Setting aside your report, you roll up your sleeves in preparation for what you'd have to go through to get home this time. You sigh loudly once you've opened the hastily tampered with maintenance panel, and witnessed the chaos that somebody had wreaked upon the machine's interior. It certainly could be worse, though, couldn't it. After a few minutes of tinkering with the old machinery, you stand up, and attempt to reestablish the connection. Nothing. Huh. Guess it's gonna take a minute or two. Suddenly, the door closes and locks behind you as familiar footsteps creep closer to your position. Rung? Of course. He must've tampered with the emitter to buy himself some time with you.

You try to turn around to face your needy creation so you can buy yourself some time whilst the groundbridge emitter does its job, but Rung wraps an arm around your neck before you can even move. He wraps his right arm around your waist, and pulls you close. Nuzzling his faceplate snugly into the side of your neck in the process. Rung ventilates deeply, and shudders quietly for a minute or two. The quiet sounds of living and non-living technology fills the silence between you. The mech curls himself around you tightly like he hadn't seen you in centuries, and had scarcely believed you to be alive. A strange sort of desperation, to be sure, considering that you'd only been gone for a month at most.

You shift uncomfortably in Rung's grasp for a few minutes, and issue his release command once you'd had enough of his clinging. Taking the chance to shuffle out of his grasp when the purple bear trap pries itself open for you automatically. Rung's optics narrow slightly at your casual use of a command once he composes himself. Had thought that you'd grown past ordering him about like a dog, but alas.

You cough awkwardly when you make eye contact with him again, and back away further when he tries to bridge the gap between you. "Sorry. I didn't want to do that, you know. But breaking company machinery called for a higher reprimand than the scolding from HR you'd have received if you'd only just invaded my personal space. You're lucky I knew how to fix the groundbridge emitter, by the way Rung."

Your reprimand softens slightly into a mild complaint, because you aren't paid enough to hold something this minor against him. Not to mention, he'd even left the removed parts inside the maintenance panel. Like he wanted you to find them, and put them back. A lazy attempt to endear himself to you, probably.

"Now, if you don't mind, I've got to get this datapad report back to HQ. Seems like I'm the only Project: Primus member they trusted to complete the task. Orrrr at least the only one that hadn't left to take on a separate project shortly after their first attempt. If the scientist running the diagnostic tests didn't disappear outright during the process." You carefully pivot 90 degrees to simultaneously address the groundbridge terminal, and keep an eye on your possessive creation post explanation. But find, to your dismay, that the emitter hasn't even begun to bridge the gap between dimensions yet. "Huh? Why hasn't it reopened yet? Everything is back in place in the emitter, it should be working by now." You turn fully to run a diagnostic test on the machine, and to reopen the maintenance panel just in case there was something you missed in your initial repairs.

Ignoring Rung once more in favor of efficiency, to his growing agitation. A minute passes, and then two before Rung growls, and grabs you again. Wrenching you away from the control panel, and telepathically shutting the machine down again with the connection he'd established to the ancient machinery occupying the Dimensional Control Center decacycles ago.

"Woah, Rung. What's gotten into-"

He pivots you around swiftly to hug your smaller frame to himself properly, and to plant your face into his neck cabling. He presses his faceplate into your hair afterwards, and then begins to stroke the back of your head in an attempt to self-soothe. You still smell of cigarettes, machinery, and sweat when he ventilates to draw in your scent once more. How is your scent still the same as when you were actively checking in with your team on Project:Primus all those vorns ago?

How long had it been since you've been gone?

Years? Centuries? No. It was much longer than that. He was sure of it. No matter. He simply won't lose you again. Never ever again… Not now that he's finally gotten you back.

"Perhaps. ...hah... Perhaps, the reason it won't reopen for you, my Dear. Is because it was never meant to. I'd been waiting for you to return for Such a Long time, after all. All of us have. Even the machinery you'd used before longed to feel your gentle touch again." He shudders again before picking up where he'd left off. "And you know how lonely I-We get. When you aren't around to monitor our progress. To witness how far we'd come under your careful supervision." He shifts his servo onto the back of your neck after his little speech, and jabs his transformed pointer digit into the side of it once he'd identified a proper injection site.

Injecting you with a sedative, and installing a tracker in you, all at the same time. In case you get any ideas once you woke up in your new home.

You feel the sting of his claw piercing the side of your neck, and you begin to thrash wildly in his iron grasp. He hesitantly releases you once he's certain of the trackers installation. Smugly satisfied at your panic, but not angry enough with you to properly enjoy it. Not now that he knows you hadn't meant to leave him behind.

You press your hand to the minor wound, and look back at your creation incredulously before you stagger over to a nearby med-station. Surely there must be some kind of omni-antivenom in here…? Right? But upon further investigation, you only find the odd bottle of ointment and a few gauze rolls in the dusty old med station. You push yourself away from it in frustration, and turn to face Rung head on. Shaken, but undeterred. "Alright. -Just. What did you dose me with? … Rung. Look at me. What. Did You. Dose me with?"

He doesn't respond this time, but the bitter longing in his optics speaks volumes. It couldn't have been poison, then. There's no way he'd get rid of you with how obsessive he'd been since his creation day. The mech watches you stagger away from the med-station with a predatory interest. Head turning to center you in his crimson gaze as you set about restarting the groundbridge emitter again.

Not that he'd let you escape, of course, but all you're doing is wasting time before that sedative kicks in fully. Truthfully, he'd broken the machine in a far more complicated manner than you had initially realized when you "fixed" it earlier. Just enough to prevent a real connection with your prior dimension, but not so much that it wouldn't even power on. It would such a shame if you were to look deep enough to find the real root of the problem now wouldn't it?

Rung stalks closer to you like a hungry wolf as you silently try to figure out why the machine isn't working. Drawing ever closer as you type away desperately at the diagnostic panel, akin to a rabbit clawing desperately at the walls looking for an escape route.

Luckily however, this wolf isn't looking for an easy meal. Just the permanent return of a beloved companion. His arms stretch out towards where you lean against the groundbridge emitter's maintenance panel, poised to catch you once you fall, with twitching claws primed to dig in and never let go.

You try to haul yourself upright again when your knees buckle under the weight of the sedative, but your grip falters too. Leaving you to slump into Rung's arms as the two of you collapse to the ground. Your world swims in and out of focus as you fight to stay awake, and Rung carefully brushes your hair out of your face. He stares into your eyes for a moment, temporarily lost for words. But you speak up with the last of your strength to ask one simple question: "Why?"

His optics widen in disbelief, as if he couldn't believe you had the nerve to ask him that. But he composes himself again, looks away, and then he answers you. "It seems that time runs differently between our two dimensions, Dear. What felt like little more than a month to you in your previous dimension, was millions of years in ours. We waited ever-so-patiently for you to return, you know. But your usual arrival time came and went repeatedly. And beyond your coworkers appearing less, and less frequently, your primes and I feared the worst."

When he looks back to see you asleep, he huffs in frustration before lifting you into a princess carry. The doors between the two of you and your new home open easily at his command. And seal shut behind you. Locking firmly in place. They'd never open again if Rung had it his way. And he's finally ensured that he would from now on.

With you by his side.

-Perchance Anon

*inhale* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

I HAVE BEEN BLESSED?!!!!! I HAVE BEEN TRANSFERRED TO HEAVEN???!!!

LORD I CAN'T PUT INTO WORD ON HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. THIS IS MAGNIFICENT, THIS IS WHAT I NEEDED ALL ALONG

I CAN DIE HAPPY NOWWWWWWW

[innerclouddaze]

TrWater and corrupted trBBH transcript of their first conversation

VOD ID Bad's stream : 2494975965

"The Realm SMP - Day 201 - Answers and Questions"

Time stamp : 00:40:26 - 1:38:51

B = trBadboyhalo

W = trWaterMunch

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

W: Hi Bad! Oh I fell into water, oopsie.

B: You need to be careful.

W: .....Sit down.

B: Hello.

W: Sit down with me. Right now. You're sitting down.

B: But then I can't fish.

W: Good. Sit down. Look at me. Sit down right in front of me actually. Right there. Sit down.

B: Hello.

W: All right, look into my eyes. What is going on?

B: What is what going on?

W: What is- what is happening?

B: I'm fishing.

W: Yep and why do you sound like that?

B: Like what?

W: Like you...aren't yourself. What's happened? Talk to me.

B: I can sound more like myself if you want.

W: Go ahead.

B: Hi, Water. How are you doing today?

W: Nope. Awful. Horrific. What's wrong? What's happened?

B: I'm not catching a lot of fish.

W: Is that making you depressed?

B: No.

W: So why do you sound like that? What's happened? Speak to me.

B: Nothing's happened.

W: That's obviously not true. Unless the absence of things happening is a problem. Is that why?

B: No, it's not.

W: Is it Foolish? Do you miss foolish?

B: Foolish? No, I don't miss Foolish.

W: How do you feel?- OK, how do you feel about foolish?

B: How should I feel about him?

W: I've- that's not- you feel however you feel. How do you feel about Foolish?

B: He's Foolish.

W: Would indifference ambivalence be a- an apt term?

B: Does he like to fish?

W: I don't really know. To be honest, I don't know him very well.

B: Oh, he probably likes to fish.

W: Do you not know him very well?

B: I know him. We've known each other a long time.

W: Have you seen him fish before?

B: Yes.

W: Has he been happy to be fishing?

B: He seemed happy.

W: Ok, so you know what seeming happy is like. Do you understand that you-you don't seem happy?

B: Does that bother you?

W: Does it bother me that my friend seems unhappy? Is that what you're asking?

B: Yes.

W: Yeah, a bit.

B: Do you need a hug?

W: No. Do you?

B: I will accept one hug.

W: That wasn't my question. Would you like a hug?

B: Yes.

W: Ok.

B: There, there. It's going to be ok.

W: That's- Ok. That's not. So. So what you're doing there is you're comforting me. I don't- I'm- I'm not upset. I'm concerned.

B: Oh, why?

W: Because you seem unwell.

B: Oh, is something else unwell?

W: Are you unwell? No.

B: Ok.

W: No. That's all that's on my mind currently. Are you unwell?

B: I'm fine. Look at me.

W: I don't think it's- I don't think what's wrong with you is- is a physical ailment. I don't think looking at you is going to make me less worried. I think talking to you and understanding how you're feeling.

B: Why?

W: Because I'm concerned that my friend is not feeling happy.

B: Is feeling happy important?

W: Yes.

B: I feel happy. I feel very happy.

W: Are you saying that because it's important to me?

B: Yes.

W: And what is the truth? If I tell you that the truth is more important to me than your happiness, can you tell me the truth?

B: I feel very happy.

W: Is that the truth?

B: Yes.

W: Ok, once upon a time we- we used a series of conversations for me to understand who you are and the way- I don't know if you remember it. Do you remember it? Would you like to explain? Do you remember?

B: Yes, I remember.

W: Yeah, ok, for any pearls and all voices just in the ether, Bad and I have a routine of doing things where I will ask him questions and he does not have to say yes, but he does have to say no to things that aren't true. So we have a way of figuring out what is true by his absence of speech. And then things that aren't true, we know because he says they aren't true. Would you be ok with trying that with me today?

B: Is this a game?

W: Kind of. Do you like games?

B: Games are ok.

W: Yeah. Ok, so let's start from the beginning. You have changed in some way.

B: Have I?

W: No. The way that we do this is I say statements and you say no if they're untrue and you don't say anything if they're true.

B: Oh, ok.

W: Ok, you have changed in some way. Ok, you have changed emotionally. Ok, your name is BadBoyHalo.

B: Yes. Hello, Water.

W: Ok, so you're not. Ok, so this isn't- right. Um your name- Hm...So we're not- This isn't how it usually goes.

B: Is it?

W: No, I'm concerned.

B: Why?

W: And I want to understand because I think something is wrong and I want to-

B: What do you think is wrong?

W: I think you have forgotten things.

B: No, I remember.

W: OK, so how does the game go that we play?

B: You ask a question and I answer.

W: Nope. That is not ever how the game has gone. Nope.

B: Do you not want answers to your questions?

W: I absolutely do want answers to my questions, but there are specific ways that you answer my questions. And sometimes the absence of an answer is an answer in and of itself.

B: Oh.

W: And you would know that if you hadn't forgotten.

B: What's your question?

W: The overarching question is what's happened to you. But I don't think you have the time nor the space to tell me the truth on that.

B: I was fishing. I talked to Pangi. I talked to Lukey.

W: Before that.

B: I talked to Aimsey.

W: Before that.

B: I talked to Pili. Pili gave me his arm.

W: Why?

B: For a snack.

W: Is Pili's arm okay?

B: Yeah, it was pretty tasty.

W: I don't know Pili that well. I don't know Pili well at all. I think we've seen each other maybe twice.

B: Pili is purple.

W: Now, there are only two things in this world that I know are purple, and it's Roscumber and something a lot more intimidating and malicious. I'd say malicious. I don't think its an entity. I don't think it has sentience. I don't know. But-

B: You mean Pili?

W: Well, no, I don't know Pili.

B: Oh. You know the purple cat?

W: Not really.

B: Then you probably don't know Pili.

W: That's what I was telling you. I'm going to ask this and you don't have to say yes, but you do have to say no if it isn't true. Ok?

B: Ok.

W: So I'm going to, I'm going to say a statement and you are going to say no if it is false.

B: Ok.

W: You. Have corruption inside of you.

B: What is corruption?

W: Some sort of purple entity. I'm not 100% sure.

B: You're not sure?

W: No. But I know it's-

B: How can you know if you're not sure?

W: Well, because you've been here a lot longer than I have, and you know about the corruption. You've known about the corruption for a while, right?

B: Yes.

W: Everyone who's been here longer than I have knows. So you know what the corruption is. You know whether it's in you or not.

B: Yes.

W: Is it in you?

B: Was it on Pili's arm?

W: Great question, was it?

B: I think so.

W: So you think it's inside of you now?

B: I think it was on Pili's arm.

W: Do you think you ate some of that?

B: Yeah.

W: Now, you're obfuscating and dancing around the concept of it being in you. Is it because you don't think it is in you, or is it because you aren't sure.

B: Would it matter?

W: Yeah, I- truth matters to me more than anything, I've already explained that to you today.

B: Oh. What do you think that corruption is, Water?

W: I don't know. All I know is that it's purple and it makes people forget stuff. That's really all I know about it.

B: I don't think it always does.

W: It seems to have now.

B: Maybe.

W: Do you think you're corrupted?

B: No.

W: Do you think you're not corrupted because you aren't mortal?

B: I don't understand what we mean by corruption.

W: I don't understand why you don't understand. You've seen it, right? The purple like spreading-

B: Why do you call it that?

W: I don't know. That's just what people call it. That's just the name for it. Do you want to call it something else? We can call it Steve.

B: Steve.

W: Yeah. Do you- Do you think you've got Steve inside you?

B: Steve is a silly name.

W: It is. And if we make it silly, maybe it's a little less scary to think about.

B: Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha. That was a good one.

W: Thanks. Do you want to call it Steve from now on or no?

B: Steve.

W: Steve.

B: Steve.

W: Steve.

B: Why do we call it Steve?

W: Fun name. Make people laugh.

B: Should we laugh?

W: I don't think we should do anything. I don't think there's any moral importance. I don't think there's any moral value based on how we react to things, right?

B: Is there?

W: I don't think so. Laughing doesn't harm anyone. Neither is crying. Maybe there's talking like a chat bot, I guess.

B: Why do you think Pili got corrupted?

W: I don't know. I don't know Pili, so I don't know really any of that story. Do you know any of it?

B: Yeah.

W: Can you explain it to me? Please?

B: Sure.

W: Thank you.

B: Pili died. Pili came back. Pili didn't remember. Pili was different. And then-

W: And that was the corruption or-

B: Now Pili is corrupted, but they keep calling the corruption a bad thing, but they're not-

W: Pili does?

B: No. Pangi, Lukey, Aimsey. But they don't want to cure Pili.

W: Why?

B: I don't know. Because they are uncertain.

W: They don't believe- They're not certain of their own theory?

B: They lack resolve.

W: Oh, I see...I see. It's very difficult.

B: It is.

W: Do we know the cure then?

B: Yes. They cured Pangi.

W: Would you take it?

B: Why would I? Look at me. Well, if you I'm fine.

W: Is fine good enough? Are you contented with fine? Is fine ok?

B: I feel happy.

W: I don't think that's true.

B: Why?

W: You don't like fishing alone.

B: I don't? Why would I do it?

W: Because I don't think you're yourself. And if you're not yourself, happiness is-is like none of it's real. If you aren't you and you're happy, then you're a different. Like that's a different person's happiness. That's not your happiness.

B: What does it mean to be you?

W: Well, that's it's a wonderful question. I think that's a very philosophical question that I don't know if I'm really in charge of the answers for, but I guess I'm me and I was me when I was in a dragon's body and I think the body is secondary to the soul.

B: So if the soul is the same, are you any different?

W: I'm slightly different, but only really in terms of the changes that I've been through. I still enjoy the same things. I don't get to partake in the same things, but I still enjoy the same things. I still laugh at the same things. I still hate the same things.

B: If your interests change, does that make you a different person?

W: I think if they change all at once...and also all of your mannerisms change at the same time, yes.

B: Is that bad?

W: I don't think it's bad, per se. I just don't think it's you. And if you aren't you, then you shouldn't be in your body.

B: Why?

W: Your body is made for my friend, BadBoyHalo, not whatever-

B: I'm BadBoyHalo. Look.

W: No. There are many things you can do to me, Bad. You can- you can say horrible things to me. You can tell me that other people are your favorite. But. But what you cannot do is lie directly to my face.

B: I'm not.

W: You are. You are not the man I knew.

B: If we change, are we different?

W: If you change overnight because of something that you took, yes.

B: Oh.

W: You don't remember Foolish very well. You don't remember me very well. You don't remember anything very well. You are fine and you are contented to be fine.

B: Yes, I am fine. You want the fish?

W: No.

B: Oh.

W: Neither do you. You would prefer to blow things up.

B: Why would I do that?

W: Ok, so what's the cure?

B: Pangi has it.

W: Ok, and Pangi doesn't have the resolve to give it to you.

B: I guess he could but why would he?

W: Does Pangi know that you're corrupted?

B: I don't think I'm corrupted.

W: Well, you're wrong. Sorry. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you are wrong.

B: If you say so.

W: If you're not corrupted, take the cure.

B: Ok.

W: It wouldn't do anything to you, right?

B: I don't think so.

W: Why don't you ask Pangi for the cure?

B: Why would I if it wouldn't do anything?

W: I guess you're right. If I ask Pangi for the cure, will you take it? Just to prove a hypothesis or disprove.

B: Sure. Will he make Pili take the cure?

W: I don't think he will, no. But you're consenting. Well, what you've just done is consent. Pili doesn't seem to want to consent.

B: So if I said no.

W: I would force it down your throat.

B: I see. Unfortunate.

W: How so?

B: I wish Pili had friends like this.

W: You want Pili to be cured?

B: Does Pili need to be cured?

W: I mean, I would say so if this is what it's done to Pili, yes.

B: You should talk to Pili.

W: I don't know Pili very well. You can get me in touch with Pili if you want.

B: Ok. Pili and I spent a lot of time together. We made a lot of memories.

W: Like getting corrupted together?

B: No. Pili was corrupted a long time ago.

W: So you'll take the cure then, yeah?

B: Why would I?

W: Because you said you would.

B: Minds change, Water.

W: Are there any other ways to cure corruption?

B: Maybe.

W: Do you know of any?

B: One.

W: Yeah. Which is?

B: Why would I tell you?

W: Just for fun.

B: I think I'm having fun fishing.

W: Yeah?

B: You should join me.

W: I will if you tell me the other cure.

B: I wonder if Pili knows.

W: Maybe. I know you know.

B: You should ask him.

W: Pili is not here right now. You are. I'll fish with you.

B: Let's fish.

W: If you tell me.

B: Oh.

*50 seconds of silence*

W: I miss my friend.

B: He's right here.

W: No, he isn't. He's gone. Somewhere. And the thing that's standing in front of me won't tell me how to bring him back.

B: ........He's already back.

W: No, he's not. And the thing that's standing in front of me is TAUNTING me! .......................Bring him back.......please...

B: I'm right here.

W: And who are you? Really? Tell me about yourself. Tell me all about yourself. Tell me everything. From the beginning.

B: I'm me.

W: That's not...Tell me your life story. Tell me about yourself.

B: Where should I begin?

W: The beginning. Where do you come from?

B: That's a long story.

W: Where do you come from?

B: Not here.

W: Same. How far away?

B: A long time ago.

W: Different realm?

B: You could call it that.

W: Do you have any family? Parents? Brothers? Sisters?

B: Yes.

W: What are their names?

B: *Bad looks up at the sky* Do you want to fish with me?

W: That's a crazy name. How many brothers do you have? How many sisters?

B: Too many.

W: Do you have a mum and a dad? Do you have one? Do you have neither? Do you have multiple sets?

B: What makes someone a mom or a dad?

W: Usually birth, but sometimes it's not to do with that, sometimes it's just raising a child.

B: *Bad looking at the burning phantoms in the sky* Why do they do that?

W: What, burn?

B: No.

W: Fly?

B: Why do they exist?

W: Why does anything exist?

B: That's a good question.

W: But they exist to die. So does everyone. So does everything. The entire world is built to die. Everything has a timer on it. Apart from you, I guess.

B: Do you think people would exist? Choose to, if they could.

W: Do you think they would they would choose to exist if they had the choice?

B: Yeah.

W: I think some would. I think most would. I think life is worth living. Do you?

B: Yes. I do.

W: Um, right. So there's something...wrong with you, there's something rotten in you and what do you want me to do? You don't want me to cure you but also you might-

B: I cooked Pili's arm...to 135 degrees Fahrenheit. Internal temperature.

W: Does that burn away corruption? Is it like mold?

B: Medium rare.

W: So there's still something rotten inside of you, and that rotten thing is rotting you from the inside out, and you expect me to stand around and watch it happen?

B: Why is it rotten? Because it's different?

W: No, not because it's different, because YOU are gone! You are lost to this world, and the longer it will go on, the longer you will become lost, the more you will become lost, and the less I will have of my friend, my treasure.

B: Is difference bad?

W: Losing something is bad. And because you are different, because you are replacing the person that I knew, because you are different to the person that I knew, I have lost the person that I knew, and that is bad. The consequences of the difference are the things that are bad. If I could take this this thing out of you and put it into something else that didn't have a consciousness, I would do that. But I can't, and therefore I must kill this. Whatever this is that's inhabiting you, I must kill it, so I can get my friend back, because I have lost my friend, and I will not lose my friend. The first friend I ever made, and you expect me to stand by and watch him rot.

B: Does my life not matter, then?

W: It does, but it does not matter to me.

B: Oh, I see.

W: I do not know you. People die every day. If I could put you into, I don't know, a sheep or whatever, I would and I would let you live another life alongside my friend. But my friend needs to live too.

B: I do.

W: And my friend is what matters to me.

B: Does that bother you?

W: That my friend isn't here? Yes.

B: Do you need a hug?

W: Shut up. No. Not at all. Not even a little bit. Did you know that my friend, Badboyhalo, didn't hug me? Even at the end of a date, he didn't hug me. He high-fived me.

B: Do you not like high-fives?

W: They're fine. But he didn't hug me. He never hugged me. We never hugged in our entire friendship.

B: Oh.

W: You are not him. Concede that, at least.

B: Why am I not him?

W: I'm-

B: Because I'm different.

W: Yes! Because you've taken who he was and you've changed every single aspect of who he was, apart from his physical appearance.

B: So if I change, I'm not the same?

W: If you change every single aspect of yourself, absolutely yes, you are not. If you decided one day that oh, I don't actually like muffins, I like bagels. Hey, that's fine. But if you decide I'm actually not this person and I am a completely different person and the person that I was does not exist anymore. Abso-bleeding-lutely, you are not yourself. You are different. You are not the person that I fell in love with.

B: Oh. Ok.......Do you need a hug?

W: No.

B: Ok.

W: So you're corrupted?

B: No.

W: Yes. And Pili is also corrupted, and Pangi has the cure. And nobody has the- What did you say?

B: I don't see myself as corruption.

W: That's fine, what do you see yourself as? BadBoyHalo?

B: I am Bad.

W: What do you see yourself as? Like, actually, on the inside?

B: I am me.

W: Who is me?

B: What I am.

W: Have you...have you always been...you?

B: I have always been me.

W: Have you always inhabited this body?

B: Which me are you asking?

W: The you that's talking.

B: I am me.

W: Have you always inhabited this body?

B: I have always been here.

W: In the body or in the Realm?

B: Is there a difference?

W: Yes.

B: Why?

W: Well, either you truly do believe you're Bad, or you are an entity aside from Bad, who is now inhabiting his body which is also okay I just need to get to the bottom of this so I can figure out how to fix it. I want my friend to be alive. If you really want to be alive that bad I'll figure out a way to get you to be alive as well. Somewhere else in a different body.

B: Do I not have the right to live?

W: You absolutely do but not in my friend's body. Doesn't my friend have the right to live?

B: Though just not in the way that I choose.

W: Did he consent?

B: Does it matter?

W: Yes. He also has the right to life. Unless he signed over his right to life, to you.

B: Your choices matter than mine.

W: In this situation, absolutely. You've taken away someone's rights. I'm attempting to allow two people's rights or- I say people, I don't really know what you are because you haven't told me yet. Um, but two entities' rights to coexist. I'm trying to find you a way to live, but you are not cooperating. If you do not cooperate, I will not abide by whatever rules you're setting in place. I'm happy to be a villain, I'm happy to kill you off. If you won't cooperate, I will just kill you. I don't care. I want my friend back, and I will do absolutely anything on this godforsaken Earth to make that happen. So you tell me who you are, you tell me where you come from, and you tell me how to fix this.

B: I see. Interesting.

W: What are you? Who are you? How do I refer to you? Let's start there. When I'm talking about you, the thing that's inhabiting Bad's body, not Bad himself, what do you want me to call you?

B: I am Bad.

W: I can't- I can't call you both Bad, I will get confused.

B: Oh. You have a different resolve.

W: Yeah.

B: Who are you?

W: I'm Water. Hello, nice to meet you.

B: Hello.

W: Who are you? You don't have to give me your actual name you can give me an alias whatever you would prefer but I need a way to compartmentalize the two of you, you see?

B: You want me to call you something...other than what you are.

W: No, I want to call you something. No. No, because I, every part of me, every molecule of my being, is me. I am Water. The inside and the outside.

B: Why are you, you and I am not me?

W: Because there was a different inside to you a month ago.

B: But it changed.

W: It changed.

B: Can you change?

W: Not as quickly as that, no. And no one can. Especially not you, a guy who's been alive for SO long.

B: But what if I do? Why does that not make me, me?

W: You just aren't, and you know you aren't. You're playing. You're playing with me, you're toying with me, you're taunting me, you're mocking me right now. And that's infuriating, you must understand.

B: Am I?

W: Yes. Stop asking me stupid questions! 

B: Why?

W: Answer one! How about we play- How about we play a questions game? How about we play- You like games, right? Do you like games? You said games are ok, right?

B: Games are...ok...

W: Ok, you wanna play a game?

B: Yes.

W: Ok, you ask me a question, I'll answer with a true statement.

B: Ok.

W: I then get to ask you a question, and you answer that with a true statement. And it has to be the answer to the question. Do you understand?

B: I guess.

W: Okay, do you want to go first?

B: What are you?

W: I am the consciousness of a dragon inside of a human body. Okay, my question. What are you?

B: I am that which you call the Corruption, but I am also that which you call Bad. I am me.

W: Okay, do you want to go?

B: Why does it matter to you what I am or who I am?

W: Because if I know what you are, I can research. I can find a way to let you coexist without one part overshadowing or taking over the other.

B: Why? Why can't-

W: That is not your turn. That is not your turn. It's my turn now.

B: Oh. Ok.

W: Ok. I need to think. I need to think. Are you intentionally taking Bad's personality?

B: What do you mean?

W: That's not a statement, but I'll- I'll elaborate. Are you intentionally changing who Bad is.

B: I do not change.

W: Can you elaborate, please?

B: I cannot change, not what is real.

W: Ok, continue. Your go.

B: It's my question.

W: Yeah.

B: Why do you not like change?

W: It's a very, very, very hard question to answer, but I will try. Hmm... How do I explain this all? I don't know if you remember, so I'll sort of talk you through it as much as I can from the beginning. I came here very confused. I'd only been in a human body for a small amount of time and this guy, BadBoyHalo, you'll come to find, took me pretty much under his wing and taught me basically everything I know about this realm, about what I can do with this body. I had no idea how to use a human body really, I'd only really just learned to walk. He taught me everything and we had fun. I fell in love for a short amount of time and he was the first person to look upon who I am truly, kindly and with understanding and love and if I lose him or if I have lost him I have lost the origins of myself. Ok. My go. Pangi has one cure to the corruption and you mentioned another. What is the other cure?

B: .....................I don't have the answer to that question.

W: You said you knew. Did you lie?

B: No.

W: Okay, I had two questions, so you can have two.

B: What does it mean to be cured?

W: To be cured is to be yourself again. As you are aware, because you just told me, you are both the corruption and Bad. And two consciousnesses cohabiting and co-piloting a body is too many. One body is made for one person. One body is made for one consciousness and so to be cured is to have one consciousness for one body instead of two. Now I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you're probably wondering. I don't know the corruption. I don't know you and you unfortunately are not exactly forthwith with the answers as to who you are, what you're about, whether you're, you know, malicious, whether you want to kill Bad, whether you want to kill everyone, I don't know. I don't know you, I don't know how to fix this to a point where you can both happily live. And because I don't know you, you matter less. You have less of a priority in my mind than Bad does. And so, I will try as best I can to keep you, you know safe and alive and happy but the first person, the first thing that matters to me, the first entity, the first consciousness that matters to me is Bad. And if you have to die to get bad back, then I will do that. Okay, you have another question.

B: Why?

W: Why what?

B: Why is it okay to kill me?

W: Because I don't know you. I don't- I have no reason to care for you do I? Your life means absolutely nothing to me.

B: Couldn't I say the same about all of you?

W: Yeah, sure, absolutely. I don't understand why you haven't killed us all. But it seems like, because you're not answering any of my questions, and you seem to be mocking me and taunting me by asking me questions, in answer to my questions, it seems very much like you are malicious and you're taking one by one each person. Pili is corrupted, Bad was sad and lonely and missed Foolish and obviously felt some comfort in Pili's attention and counsel and Pili offered an arm and Bad took it because Bad has a history with substance abuse. Bad has a history with leaning on things to make him better you are just another thing that he took to make him better and you took advantage of that. I don't think you're not trying to kill us, I just think you're playing the long game because it's fun.

B: I see. It's your question.

W: It is. Where do you come from? Like, actually, where do you come from? Do you come from the Null? Do you come from here? Do you come from everywhere? Where do you come from?

B: .............Different question.

W: You don't get to choose my questions.

B: ..........

W: And the game is over?

B: ........................I've always been here.

W: Where?

B: Yes.

W: Right, well I have an appointment to get to.

B: Yes, it's almost time.

W: For?

B: Yes.

W: What's it time for?

B: Hello.

trAimsey: Hello?

B: You want to join us? We are fishing.

trAimsey: Oh, you still like this, huh?

B: Like what?

trAimsey: Was he like this all day?

W: Mm-hmm I'm gonna head off. So, um..

trAimsey: Are you okay?

W: Lots to think about. So much to think about. Crazy amounts of things to think about. And maybe talk about. Who knows?

trAimsey: You want me to come with you?

W: If you would like to, that would be great! 

*trAimsey and trWater leaves trBad alone on the dock*

B: No one wants to fish with me..........I am alone again. We are alone again.

[dekariosclan]

Hello! I was wondering if you could share your thoughts on this:

So the Party is doing their adventure, as usual, to solve their tadpole problem. Gale has already explained everything to Tav, yet they do not share something for fear of betrayal, especially from Gale. Elminster arrives and gives Gale Mystra's order, however before he leaves he warns him to keep an eye on Tav and to eliminate them the moment they start to be "dangerous" or "suspicious".

The mission goes on, Gale doesn't detonate and the Party reaches Baldur's Gate. Elminster comes again to tell him that he's expected by Mystra in the temple and that she may have found a way to give him forgiveness without the use of the orb.

Long story short: Mystra demands Gale to kill Tav because they too have found something that they shouldn't (not as bad as Gale's one but still enough to piss her off, also in this case Tav is a sorcerer)

Obviously Gale would refuse, even if they were just friends, but do you think that moment would be the drop that breaks the dam to the point that he decides to no longer worship Mystra? Of course Gale loves magic. But to know that the goddess of all magic demands something so important to him after everything she has done? I don't know, if I were him I would probably go "you know what? Fuck you Mystra, I've had enough of your absurdly crazy demands, I won't kill the love of my life/the only person that has helped me get on my feet again. I don't care that you're scared of Tav becoming the next Karsus like you did to me. After I give you the Crown I'll make sure to stay as far away from you as I humanly can and warn everyone of who you really are!"

I don't know.... I think that would be pretty dope of him (especially if he discards his earing after the visit, even more hot in my opinion)

Anon, I feel the need to quote Gale himself:

😂 I have been put on the spot! Not because of your ask about Gale’s response—which I think you and I are of a similar mind on—but because I am rather unfamiliar with the mechanics of DND and the Weave. So I apologize if I mess up or state anything incorrectly regarding the ‘rules’ of magic use!

The thing about Gale is this: He values life and prefers to avoid conflict whenever possible. Yes, he has killed and can kill with magic quite effectively and will do so whenever needed—but he prefers not to. One of the quickest ways to earn his approval early in the game is to avoid unnecessary bloodshed during confrontations. And he gets very angry and upset if, in the Grove, Nettie tries to poison Tav—because if he had been in Tav’s place, it would have resulted in the orb exploding and the devastating loss of many innocent lives.

So let’s start with the friend scenario: I do agree completely that Gale would refuse to kill Tav, and that he would be angry and frankly shocked—moreso than when Mystra demanded his own sacrifice.

Gale’s guilt and shame over his ‘folly’ with the orb, his lack of self-worth, plus his sense of loyalty to Mystra and the Weave, made it so that when he received the order to self-sacrifice he initially responded with sad acceptance, rather than anger. Plus, he knew he would be saving countless lives by doing so.

…but if the order has been that he cause the death of his friend? That he essentially murder his friend? A friend that saved his life? He would 100% outright reject it, and be appalled as well.

I think his anger would be equivalent to how he reacts to Mystra in the Stormshore Tabernacle meeting where he is gunning for the crown: He admonishes her, he raises his voice at her, he is scornful. I don’t think he would have a shred of respect left for her, goddess or no. But I’m not sure if he would give up magic entirely as a result.

From what I’ve seen in the game, if I understand correctly, Gale (or any magic user…?) can be at odds with Mystra and can still achieve magic, as she’s just the ‘conduit’ for the Weave and cannot decide on who does or does not use it. So while he would not ‘worship’ her any longer, he would still allow magic in his life.

But if Tav was his beloved and he was asked to kill them?

I think Gale would be so completely repulsed he might actually give up magic entirely.

This is a man who, in Act 1, explains his relationship to magic as this:

But then, once he knows Tav loves him as much as he loves them, spends the rest of the game

telling them

how much more important

they are to him.

And so I do think, to your point Anon, this could actually be something that would break him and sever his relationship with magic entirely.

Where we differ slightly is that I can’t see Gale going on a verbal rampage and saying “fuck you.” Full disclosure: this definitely veers into my own person hc territory, but I imagine Gale says “fuck you” VERY RARELY, if at all. He does swear a few times in the game, and he absolutely can destroy someone verbally, but I feel that he tends to go the clever/sarcastic route or just straight honest anger without devolving into extremely harsh swearing. Instead, in this instance, I think he would be so repulsed and horrified by Mystra’s request and the thought of betraying Tav that he would actually be at a loss for words.

All I think he would be able to utter in that moment—he, the always talkative, overly-loquacious, extremely chatty wizard—is “Never.”

And I think the absolute revulsion in his eyes would say the rest.

Now, the timing of all this is significant, because it would be in Act 3 and Gale would know that he needs to use his magic abilities to help defeat the Netherbrain. So regarding the earring, if it has no effect on his magic use, I think it would be out of his ear and crushed under his foot immediately.

If, however, it is his ‘magic focus’ (as has been theorized) and he needs it to cast magic, then I think it would stay—even though he would hate it—until the end of the game. And then it would be tossed into the Chionthar along with that goddamn crown, which Gale would deliberately not be returning to Mystra, nor would he be collecting for himself. I believe in this chain of events, Gale would be removing himself completely from all things related to the divine. Because:

[saycheeeese]

Zombie Apocalypse x JJK (Part 2)

By some strange miracle, the four have you haven't encountered any zombies since you met - which makes it two days. They warmed up to you fine enough, but still, you can't help but envy the special bond they have in times like these. Good for them, you think. At least they have something to fight for. Or someone.

They led you to a dilapidated restaurant, soundlessly weaving their way through the haphazard tables and seats, and took you into the pantry. Though it was dusty cold, it certainly had ample space - and the racks were lined with canned foods and non-perishables: dried beans, oatmeal, uncooked porridge boxes, white rice, boxed pasta, powdered milk, vats of honey, bottles of spirit, hard cheeses, and a stack of dried fruit. It was difficult for you to suppress the rumble in your stomach while they quickly fixed a tiny meal that would do.

Yuuji and Nobara had fought like animals to snag the big container on the top rack, and without them even noticing, Megumi had silently retrieved it, leaving them to fight. The plastic container had oats soaked in milk, and it was a lot of them.

"Help yourselves," Megumi said, sitting cross-legged on the floor where you and the two joined him. They took heaping spoonsful straight from the dish, and you'd hesitated before digging in.

"Is this ... porridge?" You'd inquired - the food was not so bad. At least it wasn't rotten.

"Yup," Yuuji nodded, swallowing his bite hastily and choking. Megumi punched his back hard, a loud thump sounding in the pantry, and his face turned red. Nobara shifted closer to you, disgust written on her face.

"We soak them overnight in milk," she explained, "Or we keep them soaking as long as we're gone from ... home." She said the last word a bit quietly, and you nodded, taking another bite. What had happened of your home? You shook the thought from your head. In this world, love was a weakness that could be used against you.

Despite the yawning cavity in your stomach, you'd filled up pretty quickly and excused yourself. They'd covered the porridge and put it back, Nobara turning to you.

"What next? Want to sleep, or ...?" She tilted her head.

"Kick some butt?" Yuuji raised a brow, his smile less brighter.

"Neither. We have to go and get some new tools to sharpen our weapons," Megumi announced, arms folded. "We can't kill them with a blunt stick and a can of beans."

You dipped your chin once. It was probably good for you to acquire a new weapon. You unbound your hair and tied it into a braid, the bun falling apart. The laces in your shoes long since gone, you catch up to them.

"Where are we going?" You ask as the four of you exit the safety of the restaurant.

"There's a house some streets away," Yuuji debriefs you, one hand on his crooked, rusted dagger, and focus on his surroundings, "that belonged to a either a mayor or a weaponsmith. You should see the basement - it's full of knives and swords and daggers and arrows."

"We stock up from there about every month," Nobara says from behind you. She and Megumi bring up the rear while you and Yuuji lead the team. Team. A small smile blooms on your lips, and you immediately smother it, scared to let yourself be happy nowadays - because your happiness is always snatched from you.

Yuuji doesn't miss it. "She smiles!" He whisper-shouts, grinning, flipping the dagger in his hand. "You know, you look good when you smile. Alive."

"I ... don't deserve to smile, you know," you confess. "I've killed too many people, and everything I've ever loved has - you know, died. Or zombie-fied."

Yuuji doesn't flinch, like you expected him to. Murderer. He gives you a sideways glance, and his eyes are full of sorrow and understanding. He looks at you for a moment, then softly says, "You know, I also thought that. That ... I don't deserve this all. I don't deserve them. Because I killed a lot of people." He swallows. "But that’s exactly why you - we - deserve to smile. Because the world’s taken everything it could from you, and you're still here - still human. Still you. That smile? It’s not a betrayal. It’s rebellion. You're showing them that they can destroy your world all they like, but they can never destroy you. Let them rot and die at your hands - you're alive; so you deserve to feel alive."

You worry your lip, not letting the tears burning your eyes fall.

“Wow. That’s dramatic," Nobara nudges you with her elbow playfully as she sidles up to your side. "You should write a memoir. ‘How I Killed Everyone and Still Managed to Look Hot While Crying in the Dark’ Bestseller, easy.”

You roll your eyes. "You should write 'How I'm Living In a Zombie Apocalypse and Still Manage to Look Gorgeous and Have Shiny Hair.' Honestly, are you aiming for a shampoo commercial?"

"Pfft, I've dyed it," she dismisses your compliment like a mere fly. "It w-"

The rattle of tin and scuffling shoes makes you instantly tense, back straight and legs apart, dagger poised in hand. Well, what's left of it.

Nobara flanks your right and Yuuji your left, Megumi as silent as a cat behind you, obviously alert.

"Did you - did you hear it?" You breathe, your breath clouding in the musty, cold air. Your ears pick up obscene groaning noises before you spot them.

Five zombies, limping towards you all with unusual speed, blood smeared on their clothes and splattered on their faces. You cringe, and clench your dagger tightly. "Company," you say under your breath.

"I hope you weren't lying when you said you could kill them," Megumi whispers in your ear, "because we'll need all hands we can get."

"I thought you could fight?" You slightly turn, his face too close and eyes wide, assessing.

"We can," his breath tickles the shell of your ear, "but we need to be fast if we don't want more to come - and you might prove a distraction if you scream for help."

You nod sharply, pivoting ahead, a plan in your mind.

"We got seven incoming!" Nobara hissed. You start. Seven? Two more must've been hiding.

"I told you this path was cursed," Yuuji groans, his fists poised.

You take a deep breath and roll up your sleeves. "Weapons can wait," you mutter. You scan the area once more before sprinting. A garbage can, scaffoldings, something that resembles an oil can, some fractured glass shards and heaps of stone; gravel, flint, rock, granite and other unidentified materials. You'll make it work.

Your feet are a blur as you overtake the nearest zombie without it noticing. By the time it realized its target vanished, you kick its back hard and bury your dagger in its skull. The zombie is flung ahead - straight onto Nobara's ready dagger. She recoils. "I didn't even aim."

"You're welcome," you breathe, focusing as two more round on you. The other four zombies aim for your team - very well. They can fight, you think.

You rip a bent metal bar from the scaffolding and duck low. One stumbles into the bar, and you lift. Momentum does the rest. It somersaults over you and cracks against the pavement, its innards oozing out.

You barely pause to breathe. An oil can glints beside a trash bin. You snatch it and hurl it at the last one, your shoulder burning. It bursts and black slick spreads under the zombie. You pivot, wrench open the dumpster, and catch it mid-stumble. You drag it halfway in, then slam the metal lid on its neck. Over. And over. And over.

It stops moving after the third. You flip your dagger in your hands and slice it through its head. The blunt edge does little to harm. You swear colorfully and instead pick up a shard of mirror - just a sliver - and jab it into its eye.

You whirl back, chest heaving, hands covered in rotting blood, the oil creating a path from the can to the middle of the street. Movement at the corner of your eye makes you look up - shit. Zombie backup.

Four more zombies drop down from a ramshackle building, the crooked stairs giving them purchase. In a matter of seconds, they descend and approach your friends. Shit. Eight zombies.

They make quick, neat work of the zombies, but you know that more will come if you don't leave quick. Your eyes dart across the area - and you're moving before you know it.

You retrieve a piece of flint from the corner, pivot on your feet and bolt back, kneel beside the oil spill and whip out your dagger. You mutter some prayers to whoever's listening, and strike the dagger against the flint - once, twice, thrice.

Nothing, nothing, n-

A spark. You rub it again, your breath caught in your throat.

"Is she-" Nobara's voice floats over to you. She grunts and impales a zombie.

"Please tell me she's not doing what I think she's doing," Yuuji grits his teeth as he punches a zombie, its head twisting a full 180 degrees.

"Why would she light a fire?" Megumi adds, beating the hell out of two zombies.

You look up. "GUYS! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM THEM!"

You only give them one warning before lighting the oil, sparks igniting from your dagger. You uncoil to your feet and run. Faster than you've ever run, your feet barely touch the ground as the four of you scurry to the end of the alley and beyond. You're running, out of breath, when you feel the heat at your back, the smell of charred flesh and burning ash singeing your nostrils. You deem it safe to stop, and the four of you halt your frantic dashing.

Megumi wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back against him, closer to the group and away from the fire. His chest heaves behind your back, and it takes a while before you all are composed. You slip out of his grip, your face inexplicably warm.

"What the hell-" Yuuji chokes.

"Coast is clear," you mutter.

The three of them glance at each other - and then grin. Fiendishly.

"I knew I liked you for a reason," Nobara claps you on the back.

"You're terrifying," Yuuji grins. "Terrifyingly amazing! Next time, warn us before you go full apocalypse MacGyver."

"I'll admit, I'm impressed," Megumi stuffs his hands in his pockets, a ghost of a smile on his face. "You should be proud of those skills, not horrified by them. Saving our asses back there - thank you."

You shrug, a warm feeling in your gut. And you smile, your face lighting up. Smoke puffs from behind you, the ruby and amber flames doused out - thankfully. You turn to them.

"Let's retrieve our weapons, shall we?"

★ Who do you want reader to end up with? Yuuji or Megumi? Part 3 soon ★

[paramountinplace]

Could you write something about Mari shyly asking if she could get a Luke skywalker action figure cause she saw that Mel got a Darth Vader action figure as a reward. Van and Tai were at first very skeptical thinking maybe she was asking as a new way to tease Mel but no she just secretly loves Star Wars. And absolutely lights up when they (hesitantly) agree to get it for her.

(I am pushing my silly little ‘Mari is actually a secret nerd’ agenda)

I Choose Luke - Little!Mari

Summary: As detailed above! Mari badly wants a Luke Skywalker action figure, but is met with a bit of skepticism. Turns out, she just loves Star Wars.

Mari had been inching closer and closer to Van ever so slowly, trying to make her approach seem casual. Van was pretending not to notice the girl staring at her and taking a few steps closer at a time, wanting to see how this was going to play out. Finally, Mari gave up the act of casually getting Van's attention and threw herself down on the couch next to her.

"Oh, hey, kiddo!" Van greeted, enthusiastically. "Where'd you come from?"

The look she got in return was disbelieving.

"I was right there," Mari replied, pointing a few feet away.

"I didn't even notice," Van said drily.

Mari huffed but waved a hand between them dismissively.

"I have a question," she stated. Van nodded encouragingly. Mari took a deep breath before speaking again. "I want a new toy."

"You've got an allowance, don't you?"

"No!" Mari cried, crossing her arms. "You know that."

"Alright, alright, sorry, kid," Van relented. "Done with the jokes."

"You know how I've been so good about not getting into fights with Shauna?" Mari asked.

Van considered this. Mari had, by all accounts, been unusually well behaved in the past week. She'd gotten into no more than two minor disputes with Gen, hadn't said a mean word when Misty came home drenched by the rain, done all her chores without being asked, and taken care of Akilah for a whole day without complaining about it once. And, as she'd claimed, she hadn't gotten into any fights with Shauna—not even when the other girl had nicked a few of Mari's barbies to use in her reenactment of the Titanic.

"You have been quite good about that, Mar," she agreed. Mari's face lit up and she nodded eagerly, leaning a little closer to Van in her excitement.

"And you know how you got Mel something for getting her cast off without throwing a fit?"

Van nodded. They had gotten Mel something for getting her cast off without throwing a fit, as had been frantically promised by Tai when Mel burst into tears upon being told she would have to go back to the hospital in a week to get her cast off. She'd very carefully picked out a Darth Vader action figure, holding up proudly to Van once she'd made her selection. Mel had been in a bit of a Star Wars phase and had been wearing the same Stormtrooper-emblazoned hat every day for more than a month.

"We did do that, yeah."

"So, I was thinking maybe I could get something too if I keep not fighting with Shauna," Mari mumbled, suddenly shy as she looked down at her lap.

Van smiled, reaching out to tip Mari's chin up. She didn't think Tai would mind if she agreed without consulting her.

"That sounds like a great plan, bub," she said. "If you can give me one more week without fighting, we'll go to the store, okay?"

The ultimatum motivated Mari so much over the next week that she strayed into absurdity—avoiding Shauna at all costs, which Tai quickly put a stop to when she realized and explained to Mari that while she was glad she was taking it so seriously, avoiding Shauna was probably more likely to end in a fight than just being nice.

Despite one minor spat, Tai and Van decided at the end of the week that Mari had done well enough to earn her reward. Mari was thrumming with quiet excitement as they buckled her into the car, kicking her feet happily as they made the trip to the store. She was so excited that she didn't say a word as they arrived, letting Van and Tai follow her into a toy aisle as she weaved through the store with expert precision.

She picked something up off a shelf and turned back to them.

"Done," she murmured. Tai blinked as Van hide a chuckle behind her hand. They'd been expecting as least twenty minutes of back-and-forth alongside multiple requests to go to a different store or to type something into Google to see if there was a better version of a toy.

"What've you got, honey?" Tai asked.

Mari bit her lip before revealing the toy from behind her back.

"Luke," she whispered.

Van winced, knowing immediately that they were gonna have to vet the pick before they allowed her to take it home.

"Why Luke, Mar?" She asked gently, trying not to seem too accusatory. It just seemed a little too opportune with Mel's new Darth Vader figure. Mari was clever—she could find a way to use the toy to taunt Mel in some way.

Mari looked a little confused at the question.

"Because," she said matter-of-factly, "he's a Jedi and he's the best fighter of all of them. Even better than Obi-Wan."

Van had to hide her face behind her hand again, so endeared by the answer that she could barely keep from laughing. Now that she was thinking about it, Mari had been present at every single one of Mel's Star Wars movie nights. She kept pretending her bike helmet was a Stormtrooper helmet and she'd gotten into a row with Mel about which lightsaber color she would have if she were a Jedi. She'd even begged for a copy of the Lego Star Wars game for the Nintendo, which Van had barely thought twice about because of course Mari wanted that one—it was the third coolest one.

"I think she's serious, Tai," she murmured. Tai nodded slowly, still a little skeptical.

"What are you gonna do with Luke?"

Mari shrugged. "Make him fight my Barbies. Fly an X-wing. Maybe get stranded in the freezer. Dunno yet, really."

Tai's face melted into a smile and she nodded.

"Alright, Mar. Let's pay and get you home, then."

She bounced up on her toes, grinning happily as she reluctantly handed the toy over to Tai so she could pay for it while her and Van looked at the trading cards by the register. Once paid, she reached for it again and kept it held closely against her side the entire ride home, sprinting into the house once they'd arrived to find Mel.

"Look, Mel, look!" She cried, skidding into the kitchen.

"Shoes!" Tai reminded, shucking her coat off. Mari toed them off where she was standing, leaving them in the middle of the floor as she and Mel took off to get her Darth Vader figure to play with. She hadn't even taken Luke out of the packaging yet.

Van went over to pick up the shoes, returning Tai's eyebrow raise with a smile and a shrug.

"Aw, c'mon, she's so excited. She wasn't trying to be a pain. You'd let me get away with it," she defended, watching a Tai's mouth twisted into a smile.

"I would," she hummed.

Mari came sliding back into the kitchen, breathless and brandishing her toy with Mel close behind her.

"Can you help us open this, please?" She asked sweetly. Tai grabbed a scissors from a drawer, carefully extracting the toy from the plastic as Mari and Mel watched, tense with anticipation.

"There you go," she said, handing Mari the toy. Mel squealed and immediately ran into the other room, but Mari hesitated by Tai's side for a long moment.

"Um, thank you for the toy," she rushed out, cheeks flushing as she gave Tai a quick hug, doing the same to Van before she hurried after Mel.

"Too cute," Van mused, shaking her head, "too cute."

I never know how to end these. Hope you enjoy, anon, sorry for the bit of a wait!

[liazard]

@toastchoo @archiviism

CABARET... a yapping session

OKAY due to popular request (as in two people) i am just going to yap about this musical for a little bit longer because of how much i adore it.

Cabaret is so well written, i can not get over it. when i hear majority of the sound track i end up sick to my stomach, but in the good way (??). i think the first time i heard Tomorrow Belongs to Me i genuinely had to pause it because of how ill i felt.

Cabaret does a fantastic job at demonstrating all of the different perspectives on the second world war while not glorifying anyone choosing to remain indifferent to the issues occurring, which i think was probably very difficult to maintain the balance of.

It's scary how relevant this musical is to todays politics, and it reminds me of the saying "History doesn't repeat itself, but it often rhymes", which i find incredibly true. I think that Broadway's choice to bring the show back was very well timed, and audience's laughing at the serious parts in the show are incredibly tone deaf (props to Adam for pointing it out, that diva)

I also find it very ironic that the Ukrainian Cabaret blew up back in September... for the exact wrong reasons. Because it blew up for all of the songs from the Kit Kat Klub (which is a bad name, by the way), right? I just find it odd that the audience Cabaret is directed at is literally proving the point of choosing to ignore the political state of the world and instead focus on the flashy songs from the musical.

All of the people saying that they needed to buy tickets to go see the Ukrainian Cabaret skipped over the state of war the country was in at that moment (still now as well, though the whole trend has died down which is why i talk in past tense), which was just crazy.

Every single cast that i've seen for this musical has performed fantastically, each embodying the roles in different but accurate ways. My favourite cast is definitely the 1983 one though, Alan Cummings did an excellent job in carving his name into the role of Emcee.

My favourite detail from that performance of Cabaret is at the very end, when Emcee is slowly removing his jacket. Before it comes off, his expression is almost teasing the audience as he plays with the coat, as if daring them to guess what's under it. The jacket looks to be padded, which I think was used to make him seem more bold and fleshed out before the reveal.

But when he removes the jacket, Emcee's face changes completely. It drops from playful to... resigned? i don't know how to explain how he looks in the musical, but i feel like anyone who has seen Cabaret will know what I'm saying. His frame looks a lot thinner, and he purposefully changes his posture to appear smaller and weaker, which was a fantastic detail.

I just think that it is a really appropiate way to demonstrate the consequences of remaining neutral to war. Not speaking out against oppressors means that you are siding with them, and Cabaret is a great example of that.

I also strongly recommend that if you haven't seen Cabaret, then you should definitely give it a watch. Hopefully, you'll develop new perspectives by the end of the musical, and end just a little more informed than you began.

[rpking99]

Zombina stayed like that for a few long moments, and pointed to his cock. As if to remind him she couldn't say anything while he was holding her head down. Letting out a small gasp as the cock was pulled from her throat

"Well... no. I've never tried that. Never had my torso seperated before, although there is stitching so I could probably do it. Personally, I think it's too much effort. Would take ages to cut all the stitching, spin me around and redo it. Just got us to do it again. And since it's my... well, my body, it's VERY high quality stitching. Needs to be very tight and secure." She explained calmly "These kinda conversations are probably best for another time, I think."

Interspecies Guest House

Closed with @padthedemon

Continued from here

Pad was trying to look at the files but was having a hard time giving them his full attention as any time Ms Smith, his eyes looked at her. Her suit seemed to fit her body well, not hiding the curves her body had and almost putting her chest on display. "Well all these girls seem........is that a zombie?" He asked as the name she had gave it away as well as all the stitches her body had.

"Yes, yes, that is a zombie. Zombina is a member of the MON unit under my command, but.... She does need her own host home." Ms Smith sighed and nodded calmly "She is a very free spirit and excitable girl."

[emodrstan]

Some of you have probably seen anonymous asks that I've received for the past few weeks, sending me nothing but harassment and bullying. Consider this my response and statement about my truth about the situation. I have backup to my claims cursory of @barnesprosecutor who's been here since the beginning of this. Also my friends @chaoticcreative14 @snake-cutie @buckyytorres and @greek-freak101 have received similar asks.

Please note that while I'm not fond of this individual, I won't be posting her current username so she remains anonymous and does not receive any other attention. This is my truth. She is more than welcome to post her own response. This is all hearsay as well because my screenshots have been deleted since because I assumed it was over with before the anon hate started.

Back in March, I was invited to join a Danny Ramirez group chat on Instagram and accepted due to being a huge fan of his and wanting to connect with other fans. This group chat was created after I created the Danny Ramirez community and before I created the Danny Ramirez discord server.

Rinie was already a member of the group chat and we followed each other (I had followed everyone in the group chat) and all was fine.

When the Last of Us season two had it's premiere, a friend of mine @retro-rezz-the-est went to the premiere and took a picture with Danny. I asked her if I could send it in the group chat and post it to my community and Rezzy gave permission. When I sent it to the group chat, Rinie claimed that she already had it. Which was weird because Rezzy and Rinie did not follow each other and Rezzy had sent her picture with Danny to me before she even posted it.

Our first major fight in the chat happened when I asked if anyone had a video of Danny from BTS of Top Gun Maverick. Rinie said she had it but immediately said she wasn't going to send it because it was "her's"

I was annoyed and confused and let her know it by sarcastically thanking everybody but her.

Rinie proceeded to call me a bitch and yell that she didn't have to share "her videos" if she didn't want it. She then goaded the chat by saying she had videos of Danny dancing but wouldn't be sending them.

The next day I assumed it would be a one time thing as Rinie asked for some pics I had and she sent some videos in return.

I was an idiot to assume that.

With Danny's role as Manny in the Last of Us incoming, I decided not to say what happens to Manny in the game as to not spoil anyone. Rinie immediately got mad and I offered to privately DM her so I could tell her there. She requested to follow me (I had removed her as a follower before) and then spent three hours refusing to accept my own request. I got frustrated and refused to tell her anything.

When the premiere finally aired, I found a picture of Manny on Twitter and sent it to the chat in excitement. Rinie however immediately complained about the quality and demanded high quality pics of Manny. I tried to explain to her it was all I had at the time and she had a crash out but actually apologized *after* I sent better pictures of Manny.

Episode two was the last time that there was any real peace. Manny had a lot of screentime in episode two and Rinie and I traded our Manny content. She had high quality videos of the episode and I had high quality pics.

Danny appeared in a cameo in episode three and Rinie assumed he'd be in episode four. I tried to explain to her that Danny was a guest actor and would probably not appear again until the finale and she yelled at me. When I did not have Manny content from episode four as he wasn't in it, she accused me of hoarding Manny stuff.

Hypocrite.

Now we get to the big moment. The moment that started all of this. Rinie boldly claimed that she was in constant contact with Danny and even claimed that she was going to date him. This later changed to her saying they were dating. I immediately called bullshit and asked @buckyytorres if Danny had ever reached out to anyone.

She told me that while Danny would respond to fans sometimes, he never reached out first. I called Rinie out further and asked for proof of her non-existent conversations.

She doubled and tripled down saying it was private. I then said that if she didn't give any proof, that I would screenshot what she was saying and tag Danny in stories about it. Rinie all but dared me as you can see in this

Danny did in fact see it. Both times.

Rinie lost her fucking mind.

She spammed over and over again how much Danny said he hated us all and that we were immature and blah blah blah crazy.

At this point we were all done with her. She deleted her crazy shit and went silent. She wouldn't respond when we tagged her. She just kept quiet.

Part 2 coming in a bit

[mttonex]

wanted to share the rooms i made for my fanclones in the sims!!! (minus apollo since i made these before he existed 💔 not to worry tho i made him a sim 😁)

first here's sims of my clones! :3 (i'm not the best at sim making and there weren't many good options for hair or clothes SIGHHH 💔💔💔) it's so scary they're all the same height

anyway these aren't EXACTLY what their rooms would look like but there's only so many items in the sims and some items i just added for funsies/clutter (also i think it's pretty obvious whose room is whose but i still labeled them😭)

[byanyan]

no one:

literally not a single person:

me: is byan really just adhd... or are they perhaps actually audhd......

[egginfroggin]

*yeets this and runs*

My hand regrets my decision to try for more realistic wings, frankly

Transcriptions:

Mabel Pines - Steller's Jay

Dipper Pines - Blue Jay

fledglings

can't quite fly yet

wing's aren't adult-sized yet

Dipper often forgets to preen

Mabel likes to put glitter in her wings (and Dipper's, when possible)

Dipper collects his primaries to make quill pens

Mabel collects their feathers for crafting

Yeah so I'm just gonna drop this here and uhhhhh run, thanks for checking this, and I hope you have a good day

(program: krita; time taken: about 1 hr 45 minutes)

[mwagneto]

have you seen broadchurch? also for bideo game I have no clue what you usually play but I've been enjoying sable a lot recently

i avoid looking at david tennant whenever possible

[bredforloyalty]

"the trick is having a wank with someone else's finger up your arse. preferably mrs. gallagher's"