#KNIVES IN THE REFLECTION IM SCREAMING

[mewcharm]

finished part 6. what the fuck. spoilers ahead lol.

I can’t stop thinking about how jotaro’s last words were his daughter’s name. I’m actually ill over this.

Jolyne was his world.

In that moment where everything stood still, all he could see was a reflection of his own experience - knives, aimed directly towards his daughter in frozen time. Pucci read that part of his disc. He had to have.

Our stoic, multi part protagonist who’s infamous for keeping his cool, screams. We’ve seen Jotaro scared before, sure, but to this degree? He was mortified.

Jotaro didn’t ask for this. He endured insane amounts of trauma, repeatedly put himself in harms way, his life revolved around relinquishing evil stand users even after defeating dio. He dedicated himself to this cause. he wasn’t vulnerable for a reason. Jotaro didn’t want to show weakness, even to his family. But somehow, his traumatic memories of fighting dio were exploited.

After Jotaro was repeatedly told by anasui that he had one shot - a single attempt to take out pucci - or they’d all be goners… He chose to save his own daughter. He loved her so much but we never hear him say it. He gives her a stand, subconsciously carves Jolene’s name into his arm, saves her from Pucci’s bullets and has protected her since she was born - but we never hear him say he loves her. Just that he cares, and in his last moments - her name.

He chose her over saving the universe, because without her, there would be no universe worth living in for him. im sure he would do so each and every time if faced with the choice across every universe.

That choice postponed Jolyne’s death by a few minutes - but that was enough time for her to act.

Jolyne had nothing left to lose. All her friends were wiped out instantaneously and her father was dead. Of course she was going to sacrifice herself to help Emporio escape. It was her fate.

Jotaro paid the ultimate price, and everyone else did as well, due to his decision. Anasui, Hermes, and potentially Emporio. None of them had any say in it. By definition, he acted selfishly - but proved to both jolyne and the audience that he truly loves his daughter.

Jotaro could’ve died in morioh, away from his family, and they wouldn’t have known why he was there or the cause of his death. I’d like to think that during Kira and Koichi’s fight - he thought about Jolyne, and found the strength to stand. He had something to fight for, even outside everyone in that town. That act alone was him attempting to save her, and to continue to live on, so he may protect her.

Dio, Kira - all the stand users who posed a threat to him and his family’s safety. He wanted her to live a normal life, away from all this - and he dedicated himself to eradicating this evil.

I can’t help but wonder if Jotaro, in his dying moments, heard jolyne talk about how she can always count on him to save her… or if he was already dead. Maybe she knew he was gone, but just wanted to say the quiet part out loud. Like pucci - she knew what he had experienced through the disc - but didn’t want to use it against him. She wanted to thank him… for everything.

Maybe in another universe, he gets to save both her and the world, one last time.

[bones4thecats]

heyaa can i request a hades , Poseidon , Thor , (and if you can) Buddha with a fem!tansai seikun! reader?

((this is how reader look like))

Basically the reader is a goddess of calamity , misfortune that Zeus has personally choose. To fight against humanity

How would the ror character(a.k.a the reader husband) react when she fight against like one of the humanity fighter and absolutely demolished em outta existance with her 12 shikigami with zero scratches

Like they know she was strong but they didnt expect her to be this strong and then what is the aftermath when the reader finally meet up w their hubby??

Alsp maybe can you please add a scene of like the reader just basically tormenting a God outta pure mischief whilst their husband just stare at her with the "i am awestruck , crazy in love with this sadistic woman i married" look

btw the reader is a sadistic type like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland type but a bit more serious

(srry if i Made too much unimportant stuff , i love your writing and honestly i just cant Refrain myself from requesting im sorry if this is alot , tyyy)

A/N: Sorry, I couldn’t think of anything for Buddha, as she fights against Humanity while he fights for Humanity. I hope you do like the parts I did write! Enjoy~~

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You looked at your opponent, known as ‘The Luckiest Idiot In History’, you stood against Timothy Dexter, who was known for his very stupid rags-to-riches story

Lord Dexter looked at you and tipped his hat off, bidding you a good match, you just smirked a completely black smile as your empty eyes looked into his soul

“ What is your name, madam? “ “ You intend to challenge me without knowing that? Is it boldness or just disrespect? Oh well, whatever. I am Y/N, the Goddess of Calamity, reflect on the name of the one who will end you. ” “ Y/N, Goddess of Calamity. I already have. “ “ Now then, should we get started? “

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●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💀 Your husband sat by his nephews, Ares and Hermes, and his youngest brother, Zeus, while you and this ‘Timothy Dexter’ prepared for battle

💀 He initially was very upset with Zeus about having you fight, what if the human Brunhilde chose could give you a hard time?

💀 But seeing how your completely black eyes lit up and how you accepted on the cost that there was a border around the people inside, knowing your power’s extent

💀 Hades watched as Timothy tilted his hat down and sent a hoard of knives towards you, and as you brushed them away with ease, they simply went around him

💀 He sat at the edge of his seat near the end, watching how no matter what attack you sent towards the human, he somehow avoided it

💀 You smirked when he landed a decent blow nearby you, and you decided to say, screw it

💀 Holding your hand up, you chanted the words;

“ 12 Shikigami, attack. “

💀 Once the final attack landed on him, you smirked and watched as he turned into green shards and faded into nothing as Humanity had a mixture of angry screams and laughs

💀 Hades looked at you as you walked back inside and you just smiled and hugged him, and all he could think as he watched you torment Loki while battles continued was;

“ What a lovely wife I have. “

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🔱 Poseidon and you had a habit of watching humans fail things and chuckle about it, but you did it because it made you laugh and he did it because it helped feed his ego

🔱 When you were summoned for battle, Poseidon kissed your head and watched from his seat as you began to happily mess around with the attacks of Timothy Dexter’s

🔱 He looked at the human with disgust when a knife nearly hit you

🔱 Seeing you just dodge and attack the human, proving the attacks were fruitless if direct, he narrowed his eyes

🔱 Poseidon watched as you kicked and beat the Humanity Ally with your 12 Shikigami and he smirked lightly as he died slowly

🔱 Hearing the screams of celebration from the Gods annoyed him, but seeing you fly up and hug your best friend Loki and then give himself a kiss on the cheek made him pull you onto his lap to rest, you had no injuries to tend to, so why waste time?

🔱 You and your husband looked down on Humanity with different reasonings, his because of superiority, and you because of your sadism

🔱 And if he disagreed, he’s lying, he had hearts in his eyes watching you sadistically massacre the human whom he deemed ‘too annoying’ for life

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

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🌩️ Thor had met you through Loki centuries ago, and now you were married and fighting to the death in Ragnarok

🌩️ He knew you could handle yourself very well, so hearing that Zeus chose you to fight made him smirk, knowing it was gonna be a very short match

🌩️ Not being fond of the human who had greeted you so teasingly is something that he definitely felt

🌩️ Staring at the human from his stance by his father and cousin, anyone could feel the tension between the Norse God of Thunder and the dubbed ‘Luckiest Idiot in History’

🌩️ Watching you fight made him itch for his match, which was set after yours

🌩️ But it distracted him when the knives and constant random attacks that Timothy sent out would nearly hit you, but seeing your smirk and begin to torment the human’s brain got him feeling butterflies

🌩️ When you were announced as the winner, he stood by the Gods’ walkway and hugged you once you made it to him

“ My bolt, I congratulate you on your battle. “ “ I cannot wait to see you fight, my love. I hope you make the human writhe in pain~ “

[crunchsomebones]

Okay. Long ass trigun post coming up.

I haven't watched stampede yet (I'm trying to finish reading maximum first) but I've seen many edits and clips from it and it saddens me to no end how they fumbled vash's redesign. I hate it so much.

Look at 98 vash. Look at his swag. Observe.

I'm going to go through all the parts of this that work for me one by one. I have an art degree im allowed to do this.

The long trailing coat. The excess of buttons. The red and black colour scheme. The impractical add-ons on his hips and shoulders, giving him an almost hourglass figure. The absolute inordinate amount of leather straps. The underlayer being reminiscent of something knives would wear, showing how theyre still connected, even in matters of taste. The fuckass haircut that you KNOW he gels up every morning that just SCREAMS "I chose this haircut when I was like 10 (technically 2) and I haven't changed it since". The singular gay earring. All of it gives off "im a badass but I don't actually know what I'm doing". He's trying so hard to look cool, and it's working, but there's still elements of dorkiness in the absolute excess of it all. He wants to be friendly and liked, but he also can't help being a bit of an edge lord.

And the GLASSES. my goodness. The glasses. They have so much character.

You see these glasses ANYWHERE and you know it's vash. They are so distinct. The weird little squiggle is so particular. And the way the animators use them to their advantage, using the reflected light off of them to emphasize his inhumanity at times, is so effective.

More so though, I wanna focus on the coat.

Because LOOK AT THIS SHIT. as soon as the wind hits it, it becomes an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT visual experience. It mimics tendrils, hinting at something inhuman or eldritch. It serves as a distraction, because once he's in motion, it's harder for people to aim at him with these cloth tentacles whipping around. It also further adds to the whole "biblical angel" vibe he's got going on. The tattered edges of the cloth echoing his emotional state. His coat is so distinctive, so CORE to his character that when they want to show him out of his element, or in an emotional rut, his coat is the first thing to go/get damaged.

And then, we have. Stampede vash.

They massacred my boy. They surgically removed his swag.

His coat looks like something I could buy at Winners. I guess the collar is kind of distinctive, but it lacks the motion, the inhuman quality of 98's. It doesn't TELL you ANYTHING about this vash, other than he likes big coats and the colour red. His underlayer is literally just a turtleneck and sweatpants. The deep blue accents of original vash's underlayer have been replaced with sea puke turquoise lining under his coat. His mechanical arm is pretty cool, but it feels bulky and cumbersome. (Also, does he not hide it in stampede??? Part of the point of all that leather in 98 is to conceal the fact that his arm is METAL and WEIRD).

Gone are his dope ass squiggle glasses, instead replaced by lenses I could genuinely find at any costume store. They kept his gay little earring (a win), but his HAIR. that FUCK ASS UNDERCUT. First off, why the fuck is part of his hair darker than the rest of it? I know it's meant for visual contrast, but it makes no sense, he's BLOND. and don't give me "Oh, blonds tend to get darker hair as they age, so maybe he dyes part of it and shaves the sides". HES NOT HUMAN THATS NOT AN EXCUSE. Original vash's hair is supremely stupid, don't get me wrong. But he chose that hairstyle when he was literally a year old, and it was his first decision to differentiate himself from Knives and carve out his own identity. Plus, Rem was the one who cut his hair, so it has deep sentimental value to him. So it MAKES SENSE. why does stampede vash have this haircut?? Maybe I need to actually watch it to see, but it just feels like the designers thought "hey this is quirky and cool and protagonisty".

And yes, I know. 3D animation has its limits. And they wanted to update a (admittedly) dated 90s design for modern audiences. But there had to be more options than this. He looks like a background character in his own show. And honestly, 3D and Updating isn't even an excuse, because they did a GREAT job with Wolfwood.

Ignoring the weird ass smirk in the second picture, this redesign is great. Granted, it's much more subtle, but they managed to update his vibes without eliminating what made him work in the first place.

I'm gonna try to continue this in a reblog, because of tumblrs 10 pics per post limit, because I have more to say.

[sspidrwebz]

nights reflection | tw, sui

i think its obscene how you treat how i feel

you really think im bluffing, dont you?

to you im just an angsty teenager who says these things for kicks. 

as if its a trend.

and its sort of odd because in a way, it is.

it is a trend.

do you think thats a good thing?

do you think thats safe?

do you care?

sorry, i forgot.

i could be crying on my knees before you, begging for you to notice me.

i could be screaming. 

screaming the words i need to say.

the words i wish i didnt mean.

but you wouldnt listen.

i know.

ive tried.

i try my hardest not to cry in front of you anymore.

you call me weak for it.

im not weak.

i used to think i was.

i used to think i was weak because i couldnt get myself to hurt myself enough.

i was always too afraid of the pain.

but im far from weak.

because despite what goes on in my head every day.

im still here.

sometimes i wish i was as weak as you say.

instead of telling you, i act out.

i throw any object near me, i let the dishes crash as i wash them, i punch the walls as hard as i can.

i do anything to get that attention, to be noticed by anybody at all.

for you to see just how badly im hurting.

i do this in hopes youll come into the room and talk to me.

in hopes youll stay by my side.

in hopes that, even if i say i wont kill myself, youll stay here.

i hope to god you dont believe me.

because i don’t believe me.

but you dont come. 

so i cry.

because i know you wont see me.

do i have to try?

do i have to jump?

do i have to bring a knife with me?

i know you wouldnt notice.

do i have to hurt myself? 

do i have to want so badly to die?

is that what it takes?

will it ever be enough?

when will my suffering be enough of an excuse to be loved?

i dont think it ever will.

not until its too late.

the other day you showed me how to use your gun like it was nothing.

that scares me.

i tried to distance myself.

because i knew what that knowledge would do for me.

but you insisted i learn.

lucky me, i suppose.

i hate it. 

i hate that i want to be the one you worry about.

i want to be the reason you hide the knives in the house. 

i want to be the reason you worry if i dont get home on time.

i want to be the reason you call me to see if im okay every day.

please ask me if im okay.

if you care, maybe i wont say yes.

please care.

i need you to care.

i want to stay.

dont make me leave.

_____

i found this in my notes app. from a month ago, im okay now but i thought id show it bc its good i think

[lunelised]

Shut your eyes wide open

and see my silhouette.

Staring from behind the mirror,

Light up a candle,

Hear my whisper from the beyond,

I reside in your heart.

The shadows are growing bigger

Hiding hazard grins

behind the chromatic chaos

of your eye-irises.

Inhale your thrill, exhale your rage.

The choir of your fears

is chanting

through the reflections of your tears.

We are no demons, and no angels,

Dont be afraid,

we all hide behind the mask of your face.

You are not alone anymore.

The parasite took the throne of your senses,

Innate carnivore urges are blinding your instincts,

It bleeds and covers your eyes with itching guilt.

Poor philanthropic boy,

The brittle skeleton is shaking,

You seem so small, but feel so important.

Who will blame you for your actions?

You can wash your hands

until you can see your bones.

We smile each other in the face.

Who is who here?

You know I feed on suffering,

So who will break the silence first?

Ruining what I create

is in my nature.

You dream of paradise,

yet you do not dare to die.

So welcome the parasite,

Stop crawling, darling,

Spread your wings,

And fly.

Fly with me, above and beyond,

Im sorry for your fever

Under the high pressure I love you.

As we approach the sun,

Its gonna burn you down to ashes,

For better or worse.

And set me free.

Now, I give the orders here.

You are my reflection,

Follow my stream of thought,

You do what I say,

No doubts, no questions, no hesitation.

Isn’t it the essence of true freedom?

You can scream for help,

I am not afraid.

You have to understand:

As long as you hold on to the light

I will remain your shadow,

And I will never let you go.

[drunk-on-poems-and-songs]

the day after i killed myself

a mirror a blade and filth

the day before i killed myeself well if you can call it that it wasnt a day with fireworks or dirgies or a day where the world seemed dark and bleak it was a day full of dull knives and silent screams it was a kind of day where everyone you know kinda drags their shadows behind them and they all appear to be so so damningly tired of breathing in a world that spits them out

people dont usually plunge knives into others over a misplaces word or an akward glance thats something thats reserved for the special days days where the weight of their existance passes onto yours like a bruise with a bruise days when their gaze is just a bullet when ther silence is louder than they could scream sometimes just being seen is enough to tear apart the threads holding me together

but that night well the night i killed myself or the first time it wasnt loud the moon dint flinch the stars dint dim it was a nght like the one before and like the one that followed it except for the silent war raging through my head sometimes the universe is cruel thay way

i dint think uch i dont like to think much my thoughts sometimes well often times urge me to make decisions that all else of my mind screams at me for even considering thinking is dangerous when your mind is a minefiels you just move dont think just do pick up a blade the wrong blade the dull blade maybe thinking is better at times after all and place it on your arm feel the metal like its whispering to you whispering that this is a fucking awful decision and is gonna hurt like a bitch drag it and let the world stop spinning a little bit less

this isnt about death i yearn to die but i dont wish to take my life by my own hands i wish to die in a manner that would horrify and mentally scar the person that comes across my corpse if i somehow leave one this isnt about pain either pain is a preadator i aoid at all costs but theres something something about that thin red line and that blood pooling and dropping onto the floor in a constant stream that makes me feel nothing

mirrors mirrors mirror mirror on the wall whose the ugliest of them all mirrors gods mirrors when people look into mirrors they see flaws smudges stray hairs imperfections something they promptly get to fixing

when animals look into a mirror they see curiousity staring back and i envy them at times their innocense innoscence is indeed a bliss whomsoever is that dumbass that said that

when vampires look they see nothing and i envy them and their frictional blood too i wish i saw nothing

when i look i see a grotesque parody of a person a skin covered abomination walking talking filth but when i look away down at my arms my legs lo and behold viola badabin badabono im human

crowds ah crowds im a glitch int he pattern im a crow lost amongst ravens like a stain in the fabric of existanec this used to fuck me up primarily my thought process but its just a fact now a heavt ugly fact

where was i

not thinking

there are a thousand reasons to pick up a blade but when it bites when it drags the reasons lessen by quite a bit and cease to matter and scatter like leaves in the winf

i dont wish to die well not in this manner atleast i dont wish to bleed out its sticky i dont wish to feel pain

still i drag it the first time i thought damn that sucked and dint help with shit ah well another bad decision but the next time the next and now three scars later that have faded into invisibility and one fading i think thre is something to it i dont know its a topic for observation

erasons reasons reasons reasons reasons wonderful little shits emphasis on shits i do it for i wish others to see the glipse of the filth that i see everyday i walk past anything that reflects thta what festers below the surface of this uncomfortable cloth we have named skin

the worlds beautiful the stars blink the trees whisper the people talk i im absence of it the beauty aspect of life it feels like to be a wound in the fabric of the universe a contraiction wrapped in flesh

wrapped in flesh that has a nice ring to it

maybe i wont know why maybe i already do maybe it dosent matter two shits maybe it never did

[womanlives]

if you get scared, you call me. (mercy/jie)

@tewwor im sorry i got carried away again

Mercy looks up from the duffel she’s packing. She’s back in all black. It sticks out like a sore thumb against the warm tones of their bedroom, sequestered in the upstairs corner of their house. Hidden away in the middle of their woods. Their secret. Their safety. Their place. This will be the first time she leaves it. Alone. Dinks found an opportunity, and the ghosts have started screaming again. You know what they say. All good things.

Then something about an end.

Anyone else — anyone else, even her own goddamn reflection in the mirror — would get a rebuttal. Fuck you. Scared? Insert your best impression of a blasé laugh. Not him. Not Jie. Mercy offers him a soft little smile instead, as she carefully wraps her deconstructed SIG Sauer P226 in one of his shirts and tucks it next to a small, nondescript laptop and three brand-new burners. It’s all she can manage. She doesn’t trust herself to speak, because her insides feel like they’re splitting in two. Here’s the problem: she desperately wants him with her. She just wants him far away from her fucking mess more.

Silencer, couple boxes of 9mm ammo, and she’s done. Mercy zips the duffel up, then walks over to Jie, and reaches up to cup his face in her hands. The pad of her thumb runs back and forth over his scar. Her eyes search his. Memorizing this. The stubble of his jaw, the ridge of his cheekbone. Memorizing him. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the part where she’s brave enough. Her lips part.

“Three days,” she says instead. It’s a promise. “That’s it. I can’t find find ‘em — ” a Syndicate rat, out to market, ready to squeal “ — I come home. Okay?”

It isn’t. It’s so fucking far from okay that it may as well be on a different continent. Dinks’ lead is unverifiable. Dubious at best and a downright trap at worst, but it’s all she’s got. The back of her neck burns. She owes it to them to at least try.

She pulls Jie’s face to hers and kisses him. It almost kills the whole plan then and there. That’s how fucking hard it is to break off, breathe him in, and still have the strength to pull away. Mercy backs off. Slings the duffel over her shoulder. Pats her pants down for her keys, winks. “Don’t forget about the basil.” Ducks out the doorway, and leaves.

It’s a fourteen-hour drive to the portside cesspit of a city that the Syndicate calls their home base. Mercy does it all in one go, save for one stop for a meal and a thirty-minute reset. There’s no radio. The air in the car’s too thick for that. Has been ever since Mercy turned her phone fully off, after a meme reel from Yua threatened to send her veering off the nearest exit because it was only then she realized she’d forgotten to tell her friend she’d be gone for a few days, and just in case, goodbye.

She pulls over on a side road when she’s forty-five minutes ago. Close enough to see the light pollution in the distance, but too far to make out the skyline. Activates her first burner phone. Texts Jie; texts Dinks. Gets confirmation on the contact, texts them next. Pulls out her SIG while she waits. Cleans it. Puts it together. Flicks at it out of habit — safety on, safety off, safety on. Loads it, tucks it into the holster hidden by her jacket. Double-checks her knives. Gets a message back — contact, at last! — and sets a date six hours from now. Early afternoon. Perfect.

Full recline. Mercy sets an alarm on her burner and settles back in her seat. Closes her eyes. Tries to sleep.

Flash forward seven hours, a cold coffee, and one car theft later. Mercy waits in the shop across the street from the one where Squealer wants to meet. Said over text they’d have long red hair and a long red jacket. She doesn’t see neither. One hour passes. Two. It’s bordering on three by the time she confirms she’s not being watched, so she ambles over to do a quick perimeter sweep. She spots it quick enough, off to the side of the pavement leading into an alley. A lone, discarded earbud. She shoots a quick text to Dinks. No show. GET OUT, the burner screen says. She goes in the alley instead.

Signs of a scuffle, back-right. A kicked-over pile of cinderblocks. Fresh-dried blood on the edge of the dumpster. More spatters, leading down the back-alley exit off to the right. Dockside bound. Mercy triple-checks her six, flips up her hood, and follows.

It’s just past nightfall by the time she tracks Squealer down. A woman. A girl, actually. Red hair, just like she said. Red pea coat: a testament to the coastal breeze. She looks like she’s in her early twenties, but it’s hard to tell because of what they did. Mercy finds her, propped and posed, behind a shipping crate at the back-end of a port terminal. Long-dried tears break up the dirt underneath her eyes. Her mouth hangs half-open. Hardened foam forms a crust at the corner of it. At least two dozen needles stick out from her cheeks, framed by ten times that number of track marks punched deliberately into her face, and her elbows, and her knuckles. Shoulders, too, if the rips in her shirt are any indication. Most of the needles are empty, pressed full into Squealer’s skin. Some still have liquid in the barrel, plungers half-pushed.

Freckles. Rot-Eyes, that motherfucker. He gave her freckles.

Squealer’s brown eyes stare lifelessly down at her hands, which rigor mortis keeps clamped around her smartphone. It’s on, casting a ghastly, lifeless blue glow right into her face.

And it's playing music, too. Mercy doesn’t hear it until she steps in to get a closer look at the syringes. But then, on repeat, tinny and shrill, from the sole earbud in Squealer’s left ear — ONE WAY. OR ANOTHER. I’M GONNA FIND YA. I’M GONNA GET YA GET YA GET YA GET YA

Set up. Set up, set up, set up. They knew about Squealer. About what she wanted to do. Mercy wants to take care of the body — take care of it, truly, with syringes removed, and phone turned off, and soul laid to rest, the way she wishes someone would’ve cared for her, back then, too — but there’s no time. Bile rises in her throat. She has to go. Now.

Mercy stands and dials. 9-1-1, what’s your emergen —

“There’s a dead girl behind a green shipping container with white lettering at the end of the eastside port.” Click.

The rest is a blur of desperation. She’s half-expecting to get grabbed or shot the second she steps off the container terminal lot. No such luck. She catches a taxi instead. Ditches it four blocks down, catches another, rinse and repeat, until she’s on the other side of town. Into a department store to steal a new jacket, then out the other side. Back to the streets. Bright-lit first, stick to the crowds, until the sick in her soul gets the better of her, and forces her back underground. Eventually she stops at the beach. Finds refuge at the edge of an old, dilapidated wharf and empties what’s left of her stomach into the water.

She fumbles with the burner. The adrenaline’s gone, now, and the withdrawal makes her fingers shake. Hold it together. Just a little while longer. Dials the number she knows by heart and presses the receiver to her ear. Folds in on herself as it rings, once. Isn’t sure if she can make it through the second —

The other line picks up. Mercy feels faint with relief.

“Jie?” So small. God, her voice sounds so small. She lifts a hand to her mouth �� isn’t sure if it’s her fingers that are trembling, or her lips — as her legs give out, and drop her into a crouch. Her eyes close. She pictures him. It helps. “I hate this. I miss you.” I love you. Everything shakes now. It’s spreading. Mercy drops her forehead to her knees and forces herself to remember. Breathe.

“I think I’m scared. I want to come home.”

[nokaru]

🪨 🔥 🍦 🥊 for any AnS OC you choose! 😁

hello hello thank you for the ask NOW i can unleash my oc hell upon yall AHA - im insane about my underground ans ocs so i picked lot of different ones LETS GOO

🪨 ROCK - do they make friends easily? (if not) why?

picking Zarr and Tom for this one cause despite being father son duo they are as different as can be

Tom is well loved and can be friends with about ANYONE...is he sincere about it? who knows. He's big people person and understanding others is one of his biggest strengths. Overall just a pleasure to be around. He is quick to disarm and tear down anyone's walls.

Zarr on the other hand can stand the presence of very few people, guy has had the same 5 friends since his teens (the ones who haven't died yet at least). Being big scary grumpy old man doesn't help with making friends either. It's okay though he doesn't need anyone new.

🔥 FIRE - what angers them easily? how do they handle their anger?

Nokaru's time to shine! Lot of stuff angers her tbh she's got lot of pent up anger within her cause of her past, she resolves most conflicts with violence sooo yeah...She used to be the kicking and screaming type ohh so many broken mirrors and smashed glasses. She's working on controlling herself a lot, so far so good. She cools off by screaming in the forest.

The main cause of her anger is mostly misconduct (both of her and others) and her own actions when she reflects on them. Also overly hot tea or coffee.

🍦 ICE CREAM - what is their favorite treat?

Haru: give this man a whole pastry shop pls he deserves it. Haru has biiig sweet tooth so anything sweet is right up his alley - tho pudding and cakes are his fav. oh also lollipops (doesn't matter he's 19) hes just a lil guy

🥊 BOXING GLOVE - what is their go-to fighting style (hand-to-hand, short range, long range, etc)?

Most of my underground OCs prefer using hand-to-hand, daggers, throwing knives, swords ect. only OC who uses really long range fighting style is lil Mika, who uses a bow and arrows. She is fighing for her life fr shes trying her best OKAY

she should stick to being a medic tho

[chilligyu]

info: im jaebum/reader, teen+, strangers to lovers au genre: soft angst, romance | word ct: 5.1k warnings: suggestive themes summary: for years, jaebum tried to forget the woman who broke his heart. little did he know that she wasn’t so easily forgotten, and that her face would haunt him at every turn. note: so I started this three years ago after listening to got7′s face for the first time and I’ve been editing it and forgetting it ever since. lol maybe someone will enjoy it

“Jaebum, I’m sorry.”

Okay.

“I really am.”

Okay.

“Please understand—”

Okay.

“Jae? Don’t just stand there.”

Okay.

“Please—please say something!”

Like what?

Jaebum didn’t know what she expected him to say, not after that. After she ripped out his heart.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

She just stood there in the doorway, bag in hand, waiting for his response with tears in her eyes. He knew she was trying to stay strong, he could see her lip trembling as she held it between her teeth. How long would she wait there? How long would she bat her eyelashes at him innocently waiting for him to make it all okay? What did she even want from him? Forgiveness? Reassurance? Did she think that somehow an apology would make their breakup hurt any less?

“Goodbye, Seohyun.” He forced out through clenched teeth. “Thanks for everything.”

“Wait—Jaebum—!”

Closing the door on both her and their three year relationship, Jaebum couldn’t remember what he did next. He couldn’t remember clawing every photograph off the walls, he couldn’t remember how his fingers stung as they dug into the plaster. He couldn’t recall pulling every plate from their cabinets, he couldn’t recall how his feet bled when he stepped on the broken porcelain. He couldn’t recollect how much he hated the man who stared at him in the mirror, he couldn’t recollect how his fist destroyed the glass and how it finally reflected how he felt inside.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

That was over a year ago. And it felt like an eternity to him. Looking at himself now, suit neatly pressed, shoes freshly shined, he didn’t see any semblance of the man from that night. After he destroyed everything that reminded him of her, as he saw the pictures of happier times reduced to embers in the fireplace, he made himself a promise. He swore that he would never let anyone ruin him so completely ever again. Steeling his heart and caging it in ice, he wouldn’t even give them the chance.

Never again.

“Jae?” Jinyoung inquired, knuckles rasping against Jaebum’s door. “We’re heading out for drinks, want to come with?”

He didn’t even look up from the reports he was filing. “Can’t. I’m busy.”

Jinyoung crossed his arms. “Shocker. You’re always busy.”

“That comes with being the boss.” Jaebum countered easily.

Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung leaned against the doorframe. “C’mon, Jae, just pretend you’re a regular guy and not an office robot for a couple of hours. Would it hurt to have a little fun?”

“Maybe. Socializing is against my programming.” Jaebum teased in a robot voice. “I cannot acquiesce to your request.”

“Dammit Jae.” Jinyoung sighed in disbelief. “Your humor is wasted in this tiny little room. Go out with us. Free yourself from the confines of this dastardly place. One night with the guys isn’t going to kill you. And if it does, I’ll buy lunch for a week. Scouts honor.”

Jaebum snickered quietly. “Alright, if it gets you to shut up I’ll go out for a couple of hours.”

“And do a couple of shots?” Jinyoung pressed hopefully.

“Don’t push your luck, Jin.” Jaebum chastised him, leering over his glasses. “I’ll have a glass of wine and that’s it.”

“I’ll take it.” Jinyoung shrugged. “We’re leaving in ten minutes. You want to catch a ride with me?”

Pursing his lips, Jaebum shook his head. “I’ve got to turn these in before I go. I’ll meet you there if you text me the address.”

Jinyoung narrowed his eyes at his friend suspiciously. “I swear to God, Jae, if you flake on us I’m going to come back here and kick your sorry ass.”

“Like you could take me.” Jaebum smirked. “Just go, I’ll be there soon. Promise.”

Jinyoung didn’t relent, his head dragging as he headed towards his own office. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Im Jaebum. You’re not going to fool me.”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” Jaebum informed him. “But if you keep bothering me I’m going to magically find a stack of financial statements that need to be filed. And who better to file them than my good buddy Park Jinyoung—”

“See you there!” Jinyoung interrupted, dashing down the hall like his heels were on fire. “I’ll text you!”

Chuckling at the expense of his friend, Jaebum leaned back in his chair and tapped his pen against his leg. He couldn’t remember the last time he went out just to go out. It had been too long since he was desperate for the numbing sensation of alcohol pulsing through his veins to simply function normally. The last time he could remember drinking he couldn’t recall anything that happened after. Not until he woke up in some woman’s bed that he didn’t bother to learn the name of. He wanted to feel bad, or at least some part of him did. Because she wasn’t the first, and she most certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Not tonight. He decided. Not this time.

When his phone lit up, a text message from Jinyoung waiting for him impatiently, Jaebum quickly got to work. As much as he tried to keep his stoic face in front of his friend, he needed to get out of the office. If he had to read another poorly written report littered with inaccuracies and spelling errors, he was going to lose his mind. Jinyoung’s offer could not have come soon enough.

By the time he was done, the sun was already starting to set. Cursing underneath his breath, Jaebum grabbed his coat and bolted out the door. Opting to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, he checked the bus schedule while tugging on his gloves. Jinyoung had already been at the bar much longer than he’d like, meaning that Jaebum wasn’t going to get out of the night unscathed. Lucky for him he was always prepared for such occasions. The bottle of aspirin in his desk drawer and him were about to be fast friends.

“Jae!” Jinyoung screamed through the phone. “Where are you!”

Jaebum groaned loudly as he made it out to the street. “I’m sorry, I’m still at the office. But I’m leaving now, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“You better be!” Jinyoung continued. “Because I’ll—I’ll kick your ass if you’re not!”

“Shut up Jinyoung, you’re drunk.” He muttered, ending the call and stuffing his phone in his pocket.

Wrapping his scarf around his neck, Jaebum walked briskly to the bus station just down the block. Instantly regretting turning down Jinyoung’s offer for a ride when the cold winter air pelted his skin. Opening his eyes even the slightest caused his eyes to water, each step he took sent a chill down his spine, frost nipped at the tips of his ears, he could barely stand it.

As he waited less than patiently, Jaebum found himself watching the people that passed him. An elderly woman wearing a mismatched set of mittens, a small dog in a boorish sweater jogging along beside her. Two school boys fussing over a handheld video game, laughing jovially despite their harsh words. A young couple walking hand in hand, their eyes filled with affection and warmth, leaving Jaebum with a foul taste in his mouth.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

Lighting a cigarette, he did his best not to think about Seohyun. About how she left him on a night just like this. How each kiss on her eager lips tasted like lies. How her brown eyes hollowed out his very soul. And how each promise she made cut him like knives. Jaebum had been trying to erase her from his life for a whole year. But no matter how much he drank, or how many women he kissed, he could still taste her on his tongue.

Even cigarettes do nothing to mask her taste. He mused, inhaling deeply and savoring the tobacco that filled his lungs.

When the bus pulled up to the curb, Jaebum dropped his unfinished cigarette in the street. Sighing, he tapped his foot impatiently as the doors opened and people spilled out onto the sidewalk. He had completely forgotten how cramped public transport could get during the winter. Another reason why he hated the desolate season. And Jinyoung’s persistent drunken text messages and calls weren’t helping his rapidly souring mood.

“What is it now, Jinyoung?” Jaebum exasperated, getting on the bus and swiping his card.

“Do you know that fish cake shop by the bar?” Jinyoung asked sluggishly. “The one that I really really like?”

Jaebum pinched the bridge of his nose as he found a seat at the back of the bus. “No, I do not. But I take it you want me to stop there?”

“Yeeeesss.” He dragged out. “I’m dying for a good fish cake.”

Sometimes I wonder how we’re friends. “Alright, fine, I’ll get you your stupid fish cake. How far away from the bar is the shop?”

“Not far at all!” Jinyoung exclaimed. “Just down the street a ways, you can’t miss it! Thanks Jae! You’re the best!”

Beep beep beep.

Pocketing his phone, Jaebum did his best not to let the night get away from him. He had to keep reminding himself that all of his problems could easily be solved with the bottle of scotch that was waiting at the bar. Jinyoung owed him, and getting free drinks out of him while he was drunk was an easy task for Jaebum. All of that was worth the annoying errands that his best friend was infamous for sending him on.

There’s a scotch on the rocks waiting for you. He told himself over and over again. Do it for the scotch. Scotch can get you through anything.

“Now approaching, Namdaemun Market. Thank you for choosing Seoul Public Transportation, have a nice day.”

As the bus rolled to a complete stop, Jaebum quickly stood and waited for the doors to open. Shouldering past the new borders, he apologized quietly, thankful to finally be off the cramped bus and back out on the street. Even if it was a bit colder than he remembered. Shivering, he pulled his lapel taught over his face, scanning his surroundings for the fish cake shop he was supposed to visit. What he found instead was a ghost from his past. A ghost with hair as black as the hole she gouged into his chest.

Seohyun? He swallowed nervously, his palms sweating despite the brisk December air. Is it really her? Please—please tell me that I’m seeing things.

It had to be her, he knew it deep down inside. He knew by the way his heart stopped, how his stomach sank, that it couldn’t be anyone else. But—his mind wasn’t so easily convinced. How could it be her? How could Lee Seohyun be standing right in front of him? Just as beautiful as the day she ripped out his heart without a care in the world. Waiting outside an electronics kiosk, a lollipop stick protruding from her perfect cherry red lips and a guitar slung over her shoulder as if—

A guitar? Jaebum questioned. Since when does Seohyun know how to—

Realization dawned on Jaebum almost instantly. His eyes were playing tricks on him, like they had so many times before. It wasn’t Seohyun, it would never be Seohyun. No matter how much a small miniscule part of him still wanted her back in his arms, she never would be his. The woman before him was simply his projection of something he would never have. Underneath his breath, Jaebum cursed himself for being hung up on her after all this time.

Still, his gaze didn’t waver as he watched the Seohyun look alike walk down the street. The resemblance was uncanny, had he been intoxicated he would’ve surely mistaken her for Seohyun. She even walked like her. The way her hips swayed—Jaebum couldn’t bring himself to look away. She was beautiful, breathtaking, mysterious, entrancing, the same dangerous formula that Jaebum became addicted to so easily.

For a brief moment, he couldn’t find the differences between them. From the way her dark hair fell languidly over her shoulders, the way her lips twitched into a hesitant smile, how her eyes glistened with a palpable passion. It was almost as if he was looking at a direct reflection of a memory. One he would’ve preferred to remain lost to time.

I need to get to this fish cake shop. Jaebum reminded himself. More importantly, I need to get the hell out of here.

Gathering his runaway thoughts, he started down the busy street, doing his best to avoid the mysterious woman. She was a reminder that he couldn’t afford to fall back into the hole that Seohyun cast him into. The man that loved Seohyun wasn’t one that Jaebum admired. In fact, he was a man that Jaebum tried time and time again to erase. And, until that exact moment, he thought he was doing a fair job of it.

“Get your fish cakes here! Best around!”

Jaebum’s ears perked up at the shouting vendor, appreciating the distraction more than he cared to admit. Besides, his head was in a complete haze ever since he spotted that woman. He wouldn’t have been able to find the shop on his own even if he ran right into the door. Which he practically did. The control Seohyun still had over him terrified him to no end. And he had only seen a woman who looked like her, it wasn’t even her. He shuttered to imagine what would’ve happened if she was really there. Whispering in his ear, her hands gliding up his body, the curves of her body beneath him—

“Jaebum…”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jaebum willed her husky voice away. The shivers that travelled down his spine—he had to ignore them. He had to get away from her. Ducking into the shop, he quickly purchased the fish cakes and left without a word to the clerk. He feared his own voice, feared how it would betray him. The only thing that mattered to him was getting to the bar and as far away from her as possible.

Without really paying attention to where he was going, Jaebum shouldered past someone and sent them stumbling backwards. Unconsciously, he reached out to steady them, taking hold of their wrist and pulling them in close to him before realizing who it was. It was her. Her. Her slender wrists were within his grasp, her dark eyes looked up at him in surprise, and coherent thought evaded him.

“Thanks!” She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “I really should look where I’m going.”

At that close distance she looked even more like Seohyun. Jaebum didn’t think it was physically possible, but the proof was right in front of him. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, taking him back to a time when her fragrance was the only thing between them. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, he tried to respond, he tried to say anything that could distract himself from her lips. Her perfectly shaped cherry red lips…

Brushing her hair over her shoulder, she offered him a dangerous look. “Not much of a talker, are you?”

Jaebum never made it to the bar that night.

He woke up the next morning tangled in sheets that weren’t his own. Lying beside him was the woman who unknowingly unravelled every effort he had made to forget about Seohyun. She made him painfully aware that his previous beliefs were nothing more than optimistic delusions. Jaebum hadn’t moved past her, not even in the slightest. He wasn’t sure if he ever would.

As was customary after every one night stand he stumbled into, he quickly pulled his clothes back on and quietly left her apartment without bothering to wake her. He called for a taxi, pointedly ignoring all of the angry texts and numerous voicemails left by Jinyoung as he made his way home. Jaebum wasn’t in the mood to explain himself. Ironically enough, all he wanted to do was drink. He settled for a silent ride through the city that was supposed to save him from himself, but he was beyond saving.

Days passed and he couldn’t shake the memory of Seohyun’s lookalike beneath him. She was a rarity, an anomaly that wandered into his life without any sort of warning. And as easily as she traipsed through his thoughts, she was gone. Frankly that was his own fault, he did it for his own good but it didn’t matter to him. He wanted her, he wanted more, his body ached for her in a way that was all too familiar. He sat at his desk, fists clenched in rage, hating himself for falling back into his old ways. All he wanted was a life without Seohyun, he wasn’t sure it was possible anymore.

At first, he was determined to stay away from her. He willed his thoughts and memories to the back of his mind, trying to get on with his life once more. But it wasn’t so simple. He found himself back on that street corner without realizing how he got there just a few nights later. Diligently looking for the cherry red lips that stained his own and drove him wild.

He would always find his way back to her.

“Did you miss me?”

She came up beside him with a coy smirk, she already knew his answer.

“Still not much of a talker, are you?”

Soon after they would wind up in bed again, as it was slowly becoming their routine. Jaebum had never felt more connected to a complete stranger, someone who could’ve easily gone through life without ever meeting him. He had Seohyun back, in some way. Like a ghost from the past letting him have one last glance at what could’ve been. He could’ve been happy, he was happy. Now he didn’t know what he was. All he knew was her because that was all he wanted to know. And he wanted to know more. 

On the first day he learned her lips, on the second day he learned her name.

On the third day she learned his.

“Jae...” She breathed beneath him, desperate for him as he was for her. “Please…”

He loved how she said his name. It pained him that he couldn’t say hers.

“Jae.” She tested on her tongue. “You called me Seohyun again.”

He watched absentmindedly as her delicate fingers dusted over his skin, offering nothing more than a quiet, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She mused. “I just need to know, someone you’re running from or running to?”

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

“Both.”

She visibly winced at his honesty. “Well, I hope I can help with that a little.”

And she did. Her lips pressed against his jaw as her hand slid down his abdomen, he hissed in response and took her in his arms. She was—magic. The second his mind would be occupied by thoughts of Seohyun she would pull him in with her own hypnotic gaze, letting him forget about the woman that brought them together in the first place. It didn’t last for long, but the reprieve was appreciated nevertheless.

On the fourth day he called her Seohyun again. The fifth day was the same.

On the sixth day he said her name and she smiled.

He lost track of the days after that.

The moment their relationship stopped being casual and became something more wasn’t entirely obvious to Jaebum. One day he simply woke up and instead of hoping to see her again soon he decided that soon wasn’t enough. They started to see each other every single day, some of those days didn’t end up in bed either. Maybe that’s when he noticed that she was more to him than he originally intended. Maybe that’s when he knew he was doomed to be in love with Seohyun for the rest of his life. Forever seeking her out in the woman he had hoped would make him forget.

One morning when she was gathering her things, giving Jaebum the space he had so foolishly convinced himself he needed, he asked her to stay. So she stayed. He couldn’t ever remember things with Seohyun being so simple. Seohyun was a woman that made Jaebum fight for every inch, beg for every moment, he was addicted to her and didn’t realize how quickly she was killing him. While he didn’t want to admit it, the moment she left him was probably the kindest thing she had ever done.

But she was perfect and he still loved her.

He hated himself, as he spent more time with her and could only see Seohyun in her eyes, he hated himself. He had hoped that they would separate, that he would see her for her and not for the woman he hated and loved all at once. Because she was perfect just as Seohyun was, all he had to do was wait for the inevitable. Either he would get fed up with her or she would realize the truth. She would learn that she was a replacement for someone that wasn’t worth replacing. Someone he evidently couldn’t let go.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind.” She whispered, dusting her fingers over his arm. “Do you want to talk about it?”

What hurt him most, was that she loved him. She loved him. Not some version of him that only existed as a ghost in her mind, as a lie she couldn’t give up. She loved him for exactly who he was. A man who looked at her and saw another, who reached for her everyday, who was haunted by a touch that was forever ingrained in his skin. He was disgusted by the man she loved, by himself. But if he ever told her the truth, he knew it would break her heart.

Break her like Seohyun destroyed him.

And then she would be gone.

So he would continue to lie to her, betray her no matter how much his own words tore him up inside. A sensation that was all too familiar, one he knew better than most after knowing Seohyun for as long as he did. Ironically, he was just like her. Selfish to the very end. 

“I’m alright.” He lied easily as always.

Except she wasn’t convinced, not in the slightest. She had never been convinced of his lies, he could tell just by looking at her that she was enduring his facade as much as he was. Pretending to be fooled so they could continue in blissful ignorance. Because she knew his heart better than even he did, a heart that had long since been locked away. Because she loved him despite everything that he was. And everything that he wasn’t.

It was close to their anniversary when he decided that enough was enough. She had introduced him to her friends, her parents, and he had done the same. Their lives had become intertwined to a point that severing their ties could only result in a catastrophic mess. He had to come clean, he had to put his heart at ease and end the nightmare he almost believed was a dream. He had to let Seohyun go, he had to let her go. Once and for all he had to free himself from her grasp and break a heart that belonged to a woman whose only mistake was running into a man in a fish cake shop.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

His heart ached as he thought about that day, hated how much his own actions would soon imitate that very moment. Looking at someone who loved you with everything that they had and telling them that it was all over. That you never loved them. That everything was a lie. That you were nothing but a monster.

God I need a drink.

So to put a bit of distance between them, to gather his thoughts, he went to the bar that technically started it all. He ordered his usual drink, he pretended to watch a game that didn’t interest him, and he sat in silence as the moments ticked by. Every now and again the bartender would try to strike up a conversation, but after being ignored for the fifth time he finally gave up. Jaebum wasn’t in the mood to pretend to be a decent human being, it was taking every concerted effort he could afford to keep himself from falling apart at the seams.

And despite the fact that he had been sitting at the bar with two fingers of scotch in front of him for nearly an hour, he had yet to take a single sip. He kept swirling it in his hand instead, using it more as a distraction from his rampant thoughts than a means to soothe his agitated nerves. As much as he wanted to get the whole ordeal over with, he couldn’t get drunk. He had been selfish enough in the past year, he had to endure the next few hours sober because she deserved more than what she was given. She deserved more respect than he had ever offered her. And he deserved the misery he was destined for.

Once a couple of hours had passed, he decided it was time to face her. She would be starting dinner soon and he didn’t want her to waste her time. Not when he was going to be effectively kicking her out of his life forever. With a sigh, he put on his jacket to leave and pushed his untouched drink back towards the bartender. Then, a young woman took a seat beside him.

“Why don’t you let me join you for a drink?” She hummed seductively. “You’re looking a little stressed.”

 For fucks sake. “Thanks, but no thanks.” He returned without looking at her. “I’ve got better things to do.”

Apparently she wasn’t giving up so easily. “Is that anyway to talk to a pretty girl like me?”

Glancing at her, he wasn’t impressed. “Sorry, but I have somewhere I need to be. Drink by yourself if you’re so inclined.”

As he stood to leave, she took a firm grasp of his arm. “Jaebum? Are you seriously going to ignore me? Are you really that cruel?”

He rolled his eyes at her continued pathetic attempts. “You even learned my name, wow. How long have you been watching me?”

Turning back to look at her, he realized there was something familiar about her. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But that didn’t matter to him.

“Seriously, I’m not on the market.” He persisted. “Good day.”

“Jaebum!” She shouted in disbelief. “Do you seriously not recognize me? We dated for three fucking years, I feel like I’m owed more than a cold shoulder. Or are you the complete asshole you’ve always been?”

A chill ran down his spine.

“Don’t just stand there!”

No… it—it can’t be… that voice... 

“Say something!”

Seohyun?

Realization dawned on him, stomach acid rose in his throat. It had to be her, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind after hearing her say that. Those words, nearly those exact words were seared into his soul ages ago. That voice berated him for years. There was no way he would ever mistake that voice for anyone else. But—she didn’t look like the Seohyun he remembered. The mere sight of her didn’t drive him mad, he didn’t have to fight back the urge to throw himself at her feet. She was Seohyun without the best and the worst parts of her.

She wasn’t the woman he loved.

Not anymore.

“Wow…” He exhaled with a smile. “You’ve really changed, haven’t you.”

Which, now that the initial shock had worn off, he realized that she was the exact same. Painfully so. Her nails were freshly manicured, her hair and makeup were set perfectly in place, her clothes were fresh off the runway, she was Seohyun in every sense of the word. Perfectly plucked from time and placed in front of him. She was everything he thought he loved. Before he learned what love really looked like. And god it didn’t look like her.

“And you haven’t changed at all.” She huffed. “Still the rude asshole I dumped forever ago. I can’t believe I doubted myself for a second there, spotting you across the bar made it seem like the good old times. But I really made the right call, didn’t I?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You really did. Goodbye, Seohyun. Thanks for everything.”

She scoffed as he left. “Yeah, whatever.”

After that, Jaebum didn’t hesitate. He took off running for the bus stop, desperate to get home to a woman that he had loved for a whole year and just didn’t know it. He had been so sure that the love he felt for her was just a projection, that she only reminded him of Seohyun so that was the only reason he loved her. Never in all his life had he been happier to be wrong.

I love her… He chanted in his head, over and over again. I love her!

Once he got home, he burst through the door and stopped immediately when he saw her standing there. How had he never noticed before? She was beautiful, she was perfect, she was the woman he loved with his whole heart and he was a fool for not knowing sooner. She made him laugh, she made him smile, she made him forget about Seohyun a hundred times and even wiped her from his heart forever. And he was the idiot who thought it was all a lie.

“What’s wrong, Jaebum?” She asked innocently. “Is something on your mind?”

“Yes.” He confirmed easily, approaching her slowly and taking her hands in his. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, a lot of soul searching this past year, trying to make sense of my feelings for you. And I think I finally know what my brain has been telling me since the very beginning.”

There was a nervous glint to her eyes, but she played along. “What would that be?”

“That I love you.” He smiled. “I love you for being you and no one else.”

Those words, those simple words that wouldn’t make any sense to someone else, made her face light up like a fireworks display. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest, overwhelmed with a feeling he knew all too well. For the first time in four years, Jaebum could breathe. A huge weight had lifted from his shoulders, the ghost of Seohyun was finally gone. He was free.

“I love you too…” She mumbled. “I’ve loved you for so long…”

“I know.” He whispered gently, tilting her chin up and kissing her gently. “And I will thank you everyday for waiting for me.”

[bonesofapoet]

Lightning Fields

[jason todd (red hood) x you]

author’s note: titans s2, many issues of red hood + the outlaws later and here i am. trading marvel vigilantes for dc vigilantes. this is really where im at during this whole pandemic thing, huh. blood, swearing. i dont go here usually so be gentle pls

word count: 810

ao3: here

Gotham City was abandoned by the gods.

City streets were paved by bone. Skyscrapers reached for the clouds, the moon, the sun; a meadow of cold, crude knives that glinted bulletproof glass and reinforced steel. Sometimes, they reflected the sunset of a city that lived in a deep haze of contentment, the thought of hope somewhere in the distant future. Sometimes, they mirrored the sunrise of vermilion clouds that had cried blood under the moonlight, or a hailstorm made of body parts carelessly scattered in the streets like flower petals stolen by the wind.

But your favorite days . . . those were the calm ones before a storm. There always seemed to be a few minutes, weeks, months – when you were lucky – when things were less apocalyptic than usual, when ignorance was bliss before you realized that something was coming, and it would shake the skyline made of blades to their foundations. When the sky would blossom the colors of fire in the witching hour and bring the heat of the Underworld with it.

It was easy to forget your city was forged from fear and war and greed when the dream of quiet became reality in those stolen pockets of time. But ever since Jason Todd came into your life? It was hard to remember what that calm – that lie – felt like.

Memories, oh how they cut like knives.

Just like the torturous rain raging against the night – real rain, so far – that cut through the city like ice. It rode waves of wind that howled as if it were a living thing, as if it were something that raged and thrashed and begged to be uncaged. To be free.

The whistling eased itself through the windows of your apartment, streaked with raindrops cascading down the glass. The damp blurred the flickering, half-dead neon lights of a nightlife still trying to be lively. Washed out blues and faded golds illuminated a familiar silhouette moving up the fire escape with ease. Uneven, but unfaltering all the same.

You unlocked the window and gave Red Hood a steady arm to prevent his face becoming acquainted with the hardwood again.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Not even close, beautiful,” Jason said, limping to place his helmet on a nearby table. Rainwater slid off his tactical gear onto the floor. “Just me.” His lips quirked into a smirk, twisted into a grimace after running a gloved hand through tousled helmet hair. When he pulled it away, his white streaks shone pink in the lamplight.

A quiet laugh, a quick once over, and you’d gone to retrieve the first aid kit you’d learned to keep close, keep stocked, keep near the liquor.

You always wondered if you should be more worried than you were, about Jason going out as Red Hood. Once the wave of expected emotions passed when you first found out . . . you just accepted this as part of him. Jason Todd, secret romantic, Red Hood, resident smartass.

“Where does it hurt, Jay?”

He winced once the last of his suit hit the tile of your kitchen floor, a muted thud over the pouring rain. “Everywhere.”

“Occupational hazard, right?” you asked with a rare smirk and a twinkle in your eye. Your voice had changed – gone a little soft, a little pang threaded through your words. You placed the first aid kit on the kitchen counter, began sifting through it. A flash of lighting lit up the room, the fresh slash in his thigh glowing brilliant, crimson, still bleeding. He followed your line of sight when you asked, “Is that the worst of it?”

I’ve had worse, he said. Gracefully hauled himself onto the counter next to you, hissed curses through his teeth. The light from the stove-top gave you adequate light to work – you always hit the switch once dusk settled in, left it on for him until morning. His collection of scars was about to welcome a new addition. “Fuck this.”

He had a thing about kissing you, gentle and sweet when the last of the blood met the drain, when the bloody waste made a new home in the trash. Maybe it was a comfort thing, maybe it was a reassurance thing, but either way you never objected. Your heart always sang when he pulled you close to quote Shakespeare against your lips, blue eyes wide and clouded with all the things he never used to have.

You always remembered Gotham was forged in blood and fear and greed with Jason in your life, but he never failed to remind you why you stayed in a city crafted from scarred hands and demons wearing human skins. He always had to look away when you told him of the hope he handed you for a future that didn’t royally fucking suck.

Maybe the gods hadn’t left after all. Maybe they just whispered instead of screamed.

[whumpasaurus101]

▶️ Asher, tell Jack something about your past - you know, the part you don't like to talk about 😈

Im sorry it took so long to write nothing but thank you for the ask!!!

Asher knocked on the door softly, wincing as his bruised knuckles hit against the wood. There was a sniffle and then the sound of material shifting. He slowly twisted the doorknob and stepped into the bedroom. It was his first time seeing Jack’s room. The room was dark -apart from the small bedside lamp. 

Jack lay on his stomach, back raising up and down fast, was he crying? Shit, Asher didn't know how to comfort anyone! “J-Jack?” There was a sniff. Asher had seen the punishment. Jack had pulled away from Alicia when she ran her fingers through his hair. It was natural, an unstoppable move. And of course that bitch had to go absolutely bananas on him. Carved his back open she did.

Asher stopped himself from resting his hand against Jack’s back. “C-can I sit?” Jack nodded into the pillow his head was face-planted into. “You know,” Asher chuckled, “There was one thing that wasn't bad in Aiden’s place.” Jack raised his head, slightly shocked how Asher was talking about Aiden. “When Aiden went to meetings, sometimes we’d all be left alone to do chores. My best friend, Mathew and I always snuck out.” 

Vivid images were coming into Asher’s head. He remembered it so clearly, “There was this beautiful sort of stone beach that no one ever went to. We’d always race there. If we were lucky, and the sunset early, the beautiful purple and pink colours would reflect off the sea. It was beautiful. Really beautiful.”

He sniffed, not realising he had been crying, “We’d stand just where the sea reached our ankles, then we’d scream everything that was on our mind, everything we had wanted to say to Aiden. It helped a lot.” Then he sighed, “It's stupid, I know, I-”

“-No! It sounds awesome. I wish I had done something like that. I always just had to punch the wall, making sure not to make a hole or else I’d be shot dead.” Asher chuckled. Good, at least Jack was coming back to himself. Jack groaned as he tried to sit up. Asher rushed over and helped him sit up. Jack went to lean against the headboard but Asher was quick to stop him, “Woah, woah, woah, that's gonna hurt like a son of a bitch if you do that.”

Jack hissed at the thought, “Thanks. And erm, thanks for sharing a story about Aiden, I know it's hard for you.” Asher sat at the bed, right beside Jack, “I- Can I tell you another thing?” Jack almost leaned in, he was so intrigued. “He- Aiden liked to use weapons. Like, proper weapons, not just whips and knives” Asher scoffed, “He used a fucking metal bat.” He wrapped his arms around himself. Wow, he was making everything about himself yet again.

He looked to Jack quickly, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't-” Asher got up quickly to leave but Jack quickly stood up -despite the agonising pain- and grabbed Asher’s arm, spinning him around. He took the back of Asher’s head gently and leaned in. they both closed their eyes and their lips met. Asher was taken by surprise at first but he melted into the kiss. 

Wow… he was kissing someone he actually wanted to. Jesus how long has it been since that happened?

The kiss lasted for ages, but it wasn't long enough. Jack pulled away and gasped,

“I'm sorry.”

Taglist:  @appy-polly-loggies @likeit-or-whumpit @milk-carton-whump @yesthisiswhump  @as-a-matter-of-whump

[emetkoto]

Strade dropping mira from varying heights to see if cats always do land on their feet. Strade teasing mira with a laser pointer. Strade buying boxes of ever decreasing sizes and forcing mira into them while whispering "if it fits, you sits"

YES YES YES GOOD......i could see him using the landing on her feet thing as an excuse to throw her down the stairs tbh :) he just goes down to her while shes all crumpled up and crying and screaming bc her leg(s) are broken and hes like “aww kitten im sorry, i just wanted to see if that saying was true :)” all gentle and shit,,,,she fights him while he tries to pick her up bc of fucking course she does but shes fucked up so by the time shes all nestled in his arms shes like “i dont care anymore this is fine please take me upstairs and take care of me hhh”

the laser pointer is a nice fun little toy for casual play <3 he likes to shine it all around and watch her jump off the walls trying to get it! if rens around like napping on the couch or just vibing he sometimes shines it on him where he cant see it so that mira will jump on him full force bc its HILARIOUS and hes so weak and small she always knocks him over, its cute! he likes to use the light reflecting off of knives for the same thing, albeit with a darker tone to it :)

the box thing is 100% her fault it started when he brought home a big new power tool and left the box laying around while he put it together so when he came back upstairs she was hiding in it and he was just. obsessed with that so he started leaving more boxes around of different sizes and it was just so funny and interesting to watch he started actively trying to force her into smaller and smaller spaces, sometimes breaking her bones in the process <3 if only she couldve controlled her instincts!

[kim-pissboy-is-cool]

some really bad fan fic i wrote because im uninspired :))

as he kneeled on the damp and cold floor of the forest, tyler could feel the sharp breeze cutting through his frail and shaking bones. the wind felt like knives as they travelled through his skeleton hoodie and pale white skin, then into the foundation of his struggling body. his arm reached for a solid rectangle hidden away in his sweater pocket. as he took his shaking hand out, it revealed a small lighter. he used all the power he had in his continuously aching muscles to push down the metal button on the lighter before finally giving up and letting his soul push him back on the ground. the flames from the ignition flurried in a heated tower in front of tyler as it quickly spread to the bottom of a nearby tree. sunset-coloured flames grew around tyler's barely conscious body as they grew higher and higher, swallowing the treehouse that towered above him faster than tyler could catch his continuously fading breath.

as his breath left his weakening body, tyler couldn't speak in even the softest tone. his vocal chords had given up along with his damaged mind. tyler's biggest weakness was his insecurities. the foul language that it whispered in the back of tyler's brain remained permanently implanted in his thoughts. insecurities drove tyler's mind down into the shadows and forced him out, making tyler's mind into the hellish dystopia that it is now. using his remaining power to force words to flow through his brain, tyler tried to say the name of the creature that had been tormenting his brain and corrupting all his thoughts. he couldn't. his mind had been penetrated by his insecurities, almost as if his rational thinking had been murdered, just like he was. tyler's broken brain now belonged to his insecurities. it belonged to blurryface.

tyler could barely hear distant screams and flamboyant shrieking coming out of the sunset-coloured tree house that reflected how tyler felt inside. everything was painfully burning, declining into a pile of ash and broken pieces. with every deafening sound from the decaying tree house came another sharp, bleeding cut in tyler's throbbing mind. tyler would scream in agony, almost matching the pitch and tone of the equally as painful noises coming from the fire above. tyler could feel his fragile wrists being pinned to the soil beneath him, causing him to beg through the humiliating tears flowing out of his burning eyes for everything to stop. he could no longer hear the sounds of his insecurities screaming, yet he could still feel the painful thoughts escaping his troubled and damaged mind.

tyler aggressively shouted curse words at the silent and decaying treehouse above using the final gasps of air he could manage to breathe. the darkening forest surrounding his vision smelled of burning wood, which tyler found to be the only comforting object in an otherwise merciless situation. the only audible sound other than tyler's uncontrollable sobbing and shouting was coming from the crackling of the burning wood from the shrivelling remains of what once was a treehouse. he once again felt a force sharply pin his weak and shivering body back onto the cold and damp pile of leaves as he tried to resist the pressure being applied onto him. the abnormally cold air surrounded his slowly decaying body as tyler then closed his burning eyes and accepted that the brutal fight was over.

blurryface won.

[theotherbloodfart]

ITinktober Day 24 Sink

Im guessing this meant bathroom sink not opposite of float sink. Anyways...........

WARNING: CHILD DEATH

Jacob blinks rapidly in the darkness as his hand flutters around on the wall, searching for the light switch. He can feel the terror, overwhelming and animal like, threading around his spine like some scurrying rodent. He’s always hated the dark. Always felt that other presence.

____________________________

It was usually at bed time that he felt it. After his mother had kissed his forehead and tucked him in. After she had said good night. Long after the boy’s imagination painted colorful images to dance along to the bedtime stories she’d read. It was a consistent and profound fear. Completely forgotten in the morning. Rarely thought of throughout the day. Occasionally mentioned in the evenings, although rarely. Soft and distant. Yet always waiting in his closet and under his bed. Always waiting for his mother to close that door. For the light to be turned off. Simpering and chittering yet silent as death. Watching the boy frantically making sure his toes are under the covers. Making sure that every part of himself is neatly tucked inside his blanket save the top of his face. Hissing and slathering in equal silence as the whites of Jacob’s frightened eyes flit around in their sockets. Looking for It.

It is always the same game. Jacob trying to find out exactly where the monster is hiding. IS THAT THE THING??? No. It is a sweater draped over the chair in front of the little desk in the corner of his room. Only a shadow in the gloom. The twisted hunchbacked shape merely the product of average darkness. Or perhaps the monster is under Jacob’s bed. Just waiting for him to fall asleep, to kick a foot out from under his covers. Waiting to chew the boy’s toes off and nibble on the bone. Jacob has nightmares of this. In these nightmares some tiny hell beast has saliva like a bedbug. Numbing as it bites. Disguising the agony that is SUPPOSED to happen at such things so that in the morning Jacob might slowly awaken to stretch in the sunlight, throw his covers back, and discover a painless bloody stump where his foot used to be.

If Jacob is lucky, he’ll fall asleep to dreams like this. If not….. Say perhaps his mother lets him have some soda, or he manages to get a hold of a piece of sugary candy, or maybe even just that he’d played too hard after supper and was still too restless to fall asleep. If he is not lucky, he lays there pondering what the beast must look like. Tonight is one of those nights. He uses the logistical power of a child to ascertain this. No why or how. Only the pure certainty and physicality of that knowledge.

He knows It must be small to be able to flit from shadow to shadow in his room without him ever seeing It at all. He imagines something rodent like. His child’s brain conjures forth an image from his mental clay.

First a corgi. As he simply knew it’d be that size. Then, his mind twists and contorts the dog to fit the convoluted expectations of his frightened mind. Stretching the dog’s body like fresh putty. Long. Longer. Too long. Curving the back upwards and bowing It’s legs so that It is forced to scamper like an overgrown, but still very fast lizard. It’s tail hangs limply, sweeping the ground like an alligator tail as It capers thru the misshapen shadows. It’s mouth stretches impossibly wide as It’s teeth lengthen and sharpen into rows of fangs that gleam wetly and silver until they resemble actual steak knives in It’s head. The lips are pushed back until both It’s eyes and ears are swallowed by these folds of skin. It’s fur darkens and begins dripping with moisture……

The boy sits upright in bed sharply. He’s forgotten something very important yet he cannot remember just what. His heart flutters as he realizes that whatever it was is something he NEEDS to remember. Something that if he doesn’t remember…… he could DIE. Jacob doesn’t know what an anxiety attack is but he’s certainly having one.

And……… he really has to pee.

And now he is here. His heart beating so fast that it feels as if it will tear it’s way up his throat. He KNOWS something is here, just WAITING to pounce upon him and turn him into a dead body. He’s seen one of those. His grandpa’s funeral. He doesn’t want to be a dead body.

His voice bubbles out in a crackled squeak of relief as his fingers finally find the light switch and flip it. Glaring light chases any rat monsters away. Jacob does his business before going to the sink.

He takes a moment to look at his reflection. He’s a pale and sallow boy, thin and haunted looking.

He then washes his hands, quiet and business like, as any good boy should. Before turning the water off he splashes the nice warm water on his face. He does this several times, enjoying the warm comforting feel. Then, keeping his eyes closed, he reaches blindly to turn the faucet off, then grabs the hand towel next to the sink to dry his face. He enjoys the soft texture of the towel as well. As he lowers the towel he sees that the sink is clogged and full of water.

He raises an eyebrow as he sees that the water is brown and clouded. And just as suddenly the smell of rotten warm shit hits his nostrils. He stifles a gag as he realizes he must have splashed this all over his face. He leans over and retches vomit into the water in the sink.

He continues to gag and retch and dry heave for some time before simply standing there with tears in his eyes. As his eyes clear he notices something among the brown and vomitus. Or 2 somethings rather. 2 somethings that turn his blood into ice and leave him very well frozen and unable to move.

2 beady red eyes stare out at him from just underneath the surface of the shit water. Even as he registers exactly what these 2 things are, small bubbles begin to pop up in between the 2 eyes making wet plinking sounds.

Finally, Jacob is able to move, stumbling away clumsily as his feet and hands are numb with terror.

He watches as the thing from his nightmares, the twisted reptilian rat creature, crawls sloppily from the water onto the edge of the sink to sit and stare at him. Only……. It’s WORSE than his most virulent and horrifying imaginings. It’s body appears to have been stretched even further, nearly snakelike, and looks as if it has been twisted and broken many times. It’s spindly legs ropey with muscle and It’s knees are bent in the wrong direction, making the thing stand like a 4 legged spider. It’s froglike feet are tipped with razor claws. It only has tufts of hair, sodden and dripping, emitting a fetid steam. As if It’s skin is rotting.

Jacob’s knees fail and he plops on the floor, directly and painfully onto his bum. His mouth is open but only hollow wheezes come from his lungs.

He watches as the one thing he remembers exactly becomes visible. The creature slowly begins to open It’s terrible maw, the steak knife teeth framing the impossibly deep recesses of It’s gullet.

Only It’s gullet is not a deep dark hole.

Jacob can see 3 tiny lights spinning and swaying as the sound of rich and frothy screaming bombards his ears.

And suddenly………. The fear is gone.

Jacob is floating.

[spidercrimes]

if it's not too much to write, how about All even numbers for the OC asks for either character of your choice! or both if you're feelin wild whatever works : ]

wheezes this took so long but im finally done holy shit

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

Echo doesn’t have any official titles, and isn’t really planning on getting any, unless Champion of Sune counts?

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

Echo has a very good relationship with her moms! To their knowledge, things were a bit tense after leaving Ivydome, but plenty of letters and visiting when they could helped with smoothing over their relationship. A good memory would be when her moms taught Echo how to bake! They can really only bake cupcakes and cookies but theyre like. Hella good ones. They dont really have any bad memories with/of their parents, since like. They will forcibly forget or repress anything that upsets them, as long as it only affected them. If the memory is something bad that affected others it will linger for however long Echo deems necessary(read: an extremely long time)

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

They were there and graduated fantasy high school what more do you want from them jkdxxjndk.  They started working at the local sweets shop after school, so no higher level of education here! They like history a bit, but that’s about it tbh!

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

Yes! Echo had a pet cat back at Ivydome with her moms, and before the campaign she didn’t really have the money to keep another, so they settled for feeding and playing with the stray cats in Summervale.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

Hmmm, Echo doesn’t mind children?? but there’s only so long they can be around them before she gets overwhelmed. Children like them well enough since Echo is always up for playing songs or messing around with cantrips. Echo would be the fun parent/godparent/babysitter, but. Please dont make them look after children they dont want any.

12. What is their favourite food?

Give my child spicy noodles or give him death

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?

Their first cake made without supervision was. A disaster to put it lightly since someone was feeling ambitious.(it turned out like rubber and after that he was too flustered n frustrated to focus so everything else turned out badly too) So they dont bother with that anymore! Cake mistakes who i dont know her sdkjjkdbs. So half the time they pass by anything with some type of airy sponge cake they cringe lololol

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

She had a rock and shiny things collection back at Summervale! They’re mostly for decoration, although some with certain textures are used for stimming. Some rocks are kept on shelves, but most are stored in cool jars to save space

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

Echo is a sucker for romance novels and fun, upbeat music! Idk if video games, films, or video games exist in-universe, but if they did, they’d like dramas and baking shows, rpgs, and more character focused games like nitw

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

They love music, and they’d like musicals too! They will grab their lute and play along if their favorite song came on, and if nobody was around then maybe they’d sing too. Maybe. 

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

tbh their go-to insult is calling someone a prick or a bastard, and it’s usually for whenever someone’s done something particularly scummy. Or if someone is just. The Absolute Worst. It’s a leftover habit from when they used to live in Ivydome, but Echo usually sticks to talking shit when the target is. Very far away/not in the area.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

They try and get around six hours, to varying success, and to their knowledge they dont snore! Echo loves soft things and would prefer to sleep on a soft mattress with So Many blankets and pillows and maybe a cuddle buddy

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

Fun fact echo does a tounge blep when she’s happy!! They tend to do lil happy claps and bounce up and down in place when they’re really excited, but when it’s a more calm-type of happy he purrs loudly and smiles a lot more than usual! 

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

He’s claustrophobic and is terrified of being alone again or having to leave people behind even when the situation calls for it. So like. He aint copin too well after the last session! They get very flustered and panicked and freeze when theyre scared

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

Does going on champion quests and running from his problems count as exercise or???

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

Crop tops with long sleeves, shorts, and boots make up most of their wardrobe and they love it. Theyd go to like the fantasy equivalent of marshalls i think? Somewhere with good deals and a lot of options. Overlarge shirts, tank top crop tops, and more shorts make up their pjs. They dont really wear makeup, mostly bc they touch their face a lot and it feels weird the whole time, but they wouldnt be opposed to wear a lil bit every now and then! Their hair is floofy and a bit of a controlled mess since they cut it themselves

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

Echo is 5’9”/ 175.26 cm! Theyre on the average side i think? Like theyre not super skinny but not fat either so just. Avergae. And yeah, Echo likes their body, theyre so bright! And their horns are so cute and having a tail is very handy and claw maintenance can be a bit of a pain but like. Aesthetic am i right folks

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

Hes good at playing the lute and generally being very cute and giving out good vibes, and he likes baking and playing music! They can sing, but really only do that when theyre playing their lute ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

Echo admires passion and creativity the most, and dont let anyone from the party know but he wishes he could be just. A bit smarter and know what to say + ask. Theyd also really like to be able to make a decent genoise sponge too like theyre not picky

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

Theyre a tea drinker all the way, and arent the biggest fan of sweet things. He used to use more tart or mellow flavors when baking. They def arent alert after being tired for a while, and will space out a bit

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

No secret ambitions here, Echo is an open book(unless they roll high on deception dvdjxb)! Becoming Sune’s champion, making a decent sponge cake, and protecting his friends with his life/in any way they can are all their current goals. Echo doesn’t care too much if they get hurt, so physical well-being and maybe mental are things they wouldn't mind sacrificing, but as a whole they don’t really want to think about what they’d have to give up. He’ll burn that bridge when he gets to it. 

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

If its cold, wet, or humid echo is not a happy camper lol. They prefer summer and the beginning of fall the most, and sunny days with lots of puffy white clouds are the best! They think its fun watching the clouds shadows on the ground. They’re better in hot weather than cold, since clothes for that type of weather are easier to dress for and they dont have to account for their tail or horns as much

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

God i hope they make a good first impression im dying over here xjkxdk but honestly it depends! They try to make a good first impression and i think they usually do? But if theyve just finished with a job w the gang or theyre just. So tired they wont really introduce themselves at all.  Its pretty accurate of how they are, and their go-to greeting is “I’m Echo Barquiel, a pleasure to meet you dearie~” 

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

In theory they’d like parties but being around so many people with that much noise for an unknown amount of time would not be. Ideal so smaller get-togethers with friends would be the most enjoyable! Echo doesnt really have the uh, space to host anything so theyd just turn up to other’s parties. Theyd be in a constant state of switching between ‘holy shit im so gay’ and ‘oh my god theres so many people/internal screaming’. If they were dragged to a party, theyd mingle for a leelte bit before stepping out

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

A bedroll, waterskin, food supplies, rope, knives, a lute, matches, money- yknow regular survival stuff!

[tommyquackson]

The Plant That Grew From The Root of All Evil |P. Parker| Part 1

summary: You’re no good girl, no you’re quite the opposite, chaos itself even, yet somehow, he still affects you || in which a villan and a superhero cross paths

warnings: murder, violence, hinting at childhood abuse, bad fathers, and cussing of course (in the next parts theres gonna be some crazier stuff)

pairing: peter parker x villan!reader

authors note: yall im so excited for this fic and I hope yall love it as much I do!!!

Queens, New York. You hated it but couldn’t seem to leave. Everything you’d built for yourself was here, all the memories you’ve had since you were a young child. Of course, most of the memories were much to graphic and horrid to ever want to remember but still, home is home.

As you walk through the city, you get closer to your little apartment. You’d live there since you’d dropped out of high school and began working to get away from your hell hole of a house. You pass the small grocery store where most people got their news for the day. On the front page you see something that slows your quick strides down.

On the front page of a local newspaper, Queens very own, Hell’s Angel; most tabloids just called her Angel. Queens newest villain. She planned solo heists and sometimes murdered people. No one is sure where she came from or what her main goal is but no one can seem to catch her.

The thought alone made you smile, no one could catch you. The lower tier avengers had tried and all failed, that idiot spider-man was the most relentless. Everyday he swung in to try and stop you plans and take you in, and everyday he failed.

You winked at yourself in the light reflection in the window and continued on your walk back home. You climbed up the steps and unlocked your door. You look down and immediately scoop up your cat Shovel.

You walk back to your bedroom and take a look around, trying to see if there was anything out of place. Not that you had a lot of personal things to be moved in the first place. You relaxed on the bed when you realized everything was fine. You looked at the stack of mail next to your bed, you couldn’t keep ignoring the bills there, something had to be done. But you just didn’t have the money at the moment. Your car had broken down the other day and the tow truck and repair was enough to set you back for the rent and utilities. You began reading through all the notices of urgency and threats to cut off power, water and heat of you don’t cough up a few hundred dollars.

How had it gotten like this, how’d you let yourself get behind on bills. Stupid, he told you this would happen, that you wouldn’t ever make it, life would be nothing but a struggle and fight for the right just to have a home to stay at night. He did tell you not to leave...

No. You had to, you left and you’re better off without him, if he couldn’t bother to be a good father, you weren’t gonna bother to listen to him. It doesn’t matter, even if you’re a little late on bills you’re still doing better than he ever could.

You needed money, and a stress relief. You pulled the case from under your dresser and set it on your bed. You changed into your red outfit and strapped on your utility belt. You looked at the stark white and gold gun you’d stolen from a pawn shop a few years ago. You slowly kissed it and stuck it on your waist, your knives going on your hips and back.

You throw on the long black cloak type thing you wore to cover your bright outfit. You headed out your window, kissing Shovel on his forehead and jumping down the fire escape.

You knew you shouldn’t be here, you didn’t plan this at all, going out on a whim was such a rush though. You slipped into a mechanic garage, that belonged to a local gang, careful to stay silent, if anyone of these men caught you before you were ready for them to, it wouldn’t be a fun night.

You sat waiting in a corner, analyzing each person that was in the room and that also came in and out. You quickly did the math in your head and realized you’d have 34 seconds before the leader would show up. You silently gave your self a pep talk, took of your cloak and went for it.

It took you 12 second to take out the men working on the bikes, an extra 8 because one man had a gun you didn’t even see before. 14 seconds left, you grabbed the bags of money the men on the right side of the room were counting and slid it over to the window you were planning on escaping from. 10 seconds left you shot down 3 men coming down the stairs. 5 seconds. You scooped up the bag and your cloak and jumped out the window. Heading down hidden backstreets. Before heading to a storage locker in someone else’s name, just incase anyone followed you.

When you were certain your were in the clear you began the walk home. Just before you reached your block you realized someone had been following you for two blocks, you kept your mannerisms the same and turned the opposite way from your apartment. You slowed your walk just a bit and let them get closer.

“You know spider-man, stalking girls makes you a predator.” You say quickly spinnin to the right and seeing the small hero.

“Just trying to keep city safe from evil like you” He says and every time he speaks your amazed at how young his voice sounds. He had to be around the same age as you, there’s no way he’s older than 19.

“So instead of catching the bad guys who robbed the atms a few blocks from here, you’re following me.”

“Wait, what? When did-“

“Don’t worry spider boy, I already handled it, cleaned up the scraps, you say grinning. It’s not like he can even see your face behind your mask.

“So your like a vigilante?”

“If i was a vigilante, I wouldn’t have murdered them for fun. I suggest you mind your own business web boy. Now get home before you get seriously hurt.” You say pulling out your gun. He shoots his web down at you but you block it and shoot at him. This goes on for a bit before you realize your out of ammo. You quickly look at the small building hes on before coming up with a route to the top. You climb up faster than he can think about and take out your larger knife.

You both fight, doing whatever possible damage you can manage, while also receiving damage as well. You manage to knock him far enough away from you to grab your bag and escape into the night, making it back to your apartment. You count the money and realize you can pay off your bills and car repairs with a little extra to do some grocery shopping. You hid the money and began getting ready for bed.

You lay there thinking about everything. The bright lights of the city a little more dim in this section of the neighborhood. You could hear people, a few taxis and stray cats in the alleys. The darkness in your room seem to almost form in the corner of the room. It was so dark, even Shovel was looking over there.

You hear shuffling and see your neighbor walking down the fire escape, passing your window. Yea, Eddie was a weird one. He spent a lot of time either stuck in his place or on the roof, but he was super nice. A bit awkward and he seemed to always be talking to himself, but he’s been nothing but a considerate neighbor since he moved in from San Francisco. He always checked on you and made sure you were okay.

As the night goes on, you can’t help but think about a better life. You didn’t wanna be a millionaire, no that was unnecessary, you just wanted to be comfortable. You wanted to be able to not worry about whether or not you would eat dinner that night. You didn’t want a family, for several reasons. You would be perfectly happy if it was just you for the rest of your life. And Shovel of course.

You fall asleep to the dream of you finding a lovely little condo in the better part of queens and living your best life with you cat.

“She’s got powers Tony! I don’t even think she knows that she does!” Peter Parker says leaving a frantic voicemail on his dads mentors phone once again. “Just-i don’t know, you should’ve seen the way she moved, it was like watching Mr Barnes fight, or-or like when Mr Loki does is magic stuff. It was insane, Tony. Well, that’s all i’ve got for tonight. See ya soon.”

Once he hung up the phone the young man couldn’t help but revel in what had just happened. Hells Angel was something, he’s not quite sure what yet, but it’s got to be something. She didn’t even realize her eyes glowing with power. Peter has fought many villains with powers but none like this. She was dangerous, she just didn’t know how dangerous she truly was.

You woke up the same way you always do, Shovel screaming and begging to be fed, even though you knew he’d broken into his cat treats. You groan and peek an eye looking at the cat.

“You know it’s not polite to yell at people while their sleeping?” You croak, your voice still heavy with sleep. You roll out of bed and trudge to the small kitchen, filling the cat bowl with food.

You make yourself bitter coffee and go sit in your living room to watch some TV. After a while, you phone got a buzz.

chandler

goodmorning beauty, you down to grab coffee? ;)

You roll your eyes at the annoying text. You’d met chandler at some store a few weeks ago. You slept with him once, figuring he’d understand a one time thing. He didn’t. He’d been trying to get you to go out with him forever. You decided to go ahead and rip the bandaid off, you’ll meet him for coffee, rip his little heart out and move on.

sure. i’ve been meaning to talk to you...20 mins at cabin fever?

You began getting ready once he texted back. You put a comfortable outfit and your vans and walk out the front door, heading towards the cafe.

“There she is! Hey princess, how ya been?” You hear Chandlers voice before you see him. You look at him in disgust. He looks like he walked out of the “i’m cool, please give me attention and make everything about me” catalog.

“Chandler, sit” You say smiling.

“So what’s up pumpkin?” He says with a smirk on his face.

“Y/n. My names y/n and I suggest you use it before your tongue gets hacked off” You speak.

“Wow there y/n, what’s your issue? You on your period or something?”

His comment only infuriated you more. What kind of lowlife sexist asshole.

“Chandler, can we go for a walk, it’s hot in here.” You whine taking off your light weight jacket.

“Sure thang” He smiles, grabbing your hand and leading you to the street. “So what’d you wanna y’all about?” He asks once you’re walking down a fairly empty block.

“Oh yea. Leave me alone, I get we had sex, but come on man, you gotta get over it. I can’t be in a committed anything at the moment. I’ve got a lot goin on” You say looking him directly in his eyes.

“Don’t be so harsh kitten” He spits his voice becoming darker. He lightly grabs your arm to pull you closer. He didn’t not wanna play this game.

“get your hand off of me before you see what harsh is” You snarl at him.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but it sure as hell aint me baby cakes.” He pushes you into an alley and against a wall.

“You have till I get to 3, are we clear?”

“What’re you my mother?” He laughs in your face. Your eyes squint and you feel a surge go through you, the same feeling as when you’re Hells Angel.

“Three” You spit through your teeth, your free hand grabs his arm and twists it around, wrapping it around his neck.

“It would be such a shame” You tighten the grip as you speak “If I just snapped your neck, leaving you dead in the little alley” He tenses up and begins begging you, using any pet name he can think of. You let go, but quickly kick him in his back, causing him to stumble forward, you quickly draw the hidden knife from your hiding spot on your waist, and point it at the base of his neck. You push it in, hearing a quick yell and then gurgling and then silence. You let his body fall to the ground, lifeless.

“Sorry bout that, baby cakes” You spit before wiping the knife on his shirt and waking away. 

The power coursing through your veins was unspeakable and unstoppable, mixing dangerously with hidden anger and resentment you’ve kept deep down. Hell’s Angel was beginning to overtake you, and the scariest part, you welcomed it.

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