#ee au

[alcedeerie]

Epithet Erased AU idea (based off the Prison of Plastic info about Molly’s family)

AU where Martin died in the house fire instead of Calliope, but Molly is still no better off than in canon.

Instead of Calliope dying and Molly having to take up all the chores because Martin can’t take anything seriously and pretends his problems don’t exist, this Molly has the complete opposite problem.

When Martin’s gone, Calliope becomes an anxious wreck without the one person that can balance her. She becomes paranoid about her daughters’ health and safety. She’s paranoid about things that don’t matter (like the fact that she thinks if she doesn’t wear fake glasses during business meetings she won’t be taken seriously) so why wouldn’t she be paranoid about the things that do? A lot of what she cared about was completely destroyed in a freak accident, and there’s no promise it can’t happen again.

She begins to plan her kids’ future with meticulous detail and when one thing seems out of place, she has a complete breakdown. They’re possibly a bit better off due to Calliope being good at businessing, but that amount of stress and expectations cannot be okay for anyone nearby, much less a child.

Molly probably becomes an overly-cheery fake optimist (because telling herself it’s all okay is Totally a good replacement for being actually calm when her mom freaks out over minor inconveniences) and represses every problem and negative emotion she feels so far down they’re practically in the Mariana Trench.

It’s hard to even imagine an Epithet Erased where this Molly is the protagonist, because the contrivances that would have to be made to create a scenario where Calliope loses Molly at the museum (or at least is not a chaperone and is not able to find Molly after she doesn’t come home from school on time) are a lot less plausible. However, I believe it could work.

[subject-2-change]

Some more stat sheets for "A Working Title". Enjoy the Dark Brotherhood!

[zoomerinaboomercostume]

Epithet Erased/ Fiends & Fire CYOA AU

(Idea from @ramblings-from-the-ether 's AU poll right here. They chose to make a Prohibition AU, but they let others use the discarded concepts & expand on them.) Link to the CYOA here. (Fair warning, on Imgur & rather long.) Now that the credits are out of the way... This AU takes place in an alternate industrial revolution upset by every supernatural force at once because they weren’t invited to New Year’s celebrations. As a result, organizations church-sponsored, state-sponsored & private formed to combat the darkness.

Now that the basic concepts have been established, the ideas:

-Anyone in their 20s or below are born after the New Year's Bloodletting (the worldwide havoc mentioned above), so that excludes the Neo Trio, Gio, Sylvie & Stink for named characters. -This is Everyone Adopts Molly (EAM) adjacent, so Molly gets all the support she needs. Lorelai's fine, just newly apprenticed in the Roughhouse Witch Coven/Clan to gain some much-needed character development & lessons in how to use her magic responsibly (Gio managed to convince them to take her in when he recognized she was born with magic, there not being many other options for her in Sweet Jazz City). -Bliss Ocean are good guys here! Well, mostly. They do mean well & their Fiend-Hunting skills are genuinely good, but until recently they did not get along with the authorities very well. It's a step-up from the terrorists of Canon. -Rick is a half-Sidhe (this setting's Fae) here. Not a Changeling, a true Human-Sidhe hybrid. Perhaps the only one of his kind, he's still trying to unlearn the promise-&-contract-based morality they have. Naven taking him under his wing has helped immensely.

(Ideas & suggestions are appreciated. Thanks again to @ramblings-from-the-ether for getting this ball rolling. Credit to @epitheterasedgen for popularizing "Everyone Adopts Molly" in the EE fandom.) Edit: I forgot to tag for spoilers. Sorry for everyone who has been spoiled.

[skippyin]

Fairy children! (+1 Greed Demon)

(So I binge watched Epithet Erased season 1 again recently and remembered this old au--)

[ramblings-from-the-ether]

*barges in once again* Aight, remember Feng Shui?

Basically, one of Howie's Worker Bees goes missing into a portal to the Netherworld, and Howie himself has to go & find him, encountering various factions & individuals along the way.

The EE world is a sort of anomalous "fifth juncture", barely connected to the rest of time & boasting it's own kind of magic. This is kept up by the Painted Shield, a multinational order of magic knights who use Magitek to keep everything else out (also because using pure EE magic anywhere besides it's world of origin produces results that are volatile at best).

Howie will not stop until he can locate Benjamin & bring him home. It does not matter if he has to fight through sorcerers from the mists of Chinese history, demonic cyborgs from a dystopian future, or cyborg gorillas. He will find his Bee.

1) Sounds like a heck of a Jackie Chan-esque Kung Fu movie.

Secondly, the Painted Shield does fit naming conventions (in Taiga at least). We can imagine them being modeled after medieval knights from Monty Python and the Holy Grail specifically.

Next. In the context of making a plot, we can imagine a conflict in the organisation on whether they should send a team to rescue Howie before he alerts the other junctures to the EE world's presence.

{The ghost in charge of finding new paragraph starters has been found to be lacking, and has been sacked} We can imagine Howie not unable to fight his way through practically the rest of time with limited information. Who needs dynamite when you have the personification of the fury of the working class?

{The ghost in charge of replacing the previous ghost is nowhere to be found and has therefore been sacked} Another idea for the plot is that the protagonist is part of the Painted Shields who's plot-based struggles revolve mainly running across the tightrope that is the Painted Shield's many, many concerns regarding exposure risk and what to do with any extra-dimentional intruders. And also finding Howie via the trail of destruction left behind.

{Due to a lack of suitable replacements, the ghost in charge of sacking the ghost who sacked the original ghostwriter has been sacked} Howie could even be a mid plot 'antagonist' whose joining of the protagonist's side via explaining each other's positions paves the way for a greater plot point of fighting whatever kungfu sect leader has kidnapped Benjamin the Worker Bee.

And finally, I can imagine the Painted Shields organisation being in competition with other magical authorities such as the Fleecities and similar institutions in the other EE countries. There will also be the question of if the Painted Shields brings in Howie's other worker bees since they should know their boss.

But if we are to discuss all this in context of making a movie, then we must consider the below:

{The below content has been removed following the discovery of unauthorised outsourcing of writing work to undisclosed freelancers in breach of the work contract between the Sweet Jazz City Museum Ghosts' Union (SJCMGU), Ghostwriters Inc, and Sdn-Bhd Sdn Bhd. We apologise for the interruption of entertainment services, and we thank you for your patience.}

[lvl100hummuswarrior]

mortified <3

[confessedlyfannish]

DC x DP Writing Prompt 4?? 45?? 2,321?? HUT!!!

"So you eat ectoplasm," Flash says hands clasped and index fingers pressed against his mouth.

"Ayup," Phantom says, punctuating with an obnoxious slurp of his goopy ectoplasm. "Does a not body good."

"But the place you come from is made of ectoplasm."

"Ayup."

"So you are literally eating the fabric of your universe?" Flash says, voice rising in pitch.

"No, the fabric of the Infinite Realms is space-time, same as Earth, well not the same," Phantom says, scrunching up his nose. "Earth is more cotton, The Zone is kinda stretchy...huh, like spandex. Neat!"

"But you're eating up the matter that makes you you--" Flash says, hands waving.

"Dude, everything you are was once a star," Phantom says, waving a hand at all of him. "Every last bit of you and everything around you. Star. Now replace it with ectoplasm, and we just cut out all the middlemen."

Flash watches him guzzle up the last bit looking faintly green himself. "That still kind of sounds like a justification for cannibalism."

"I promise to never eat you," Phantom says with uncomfortable emphasis, suddenly solemn. He stares at Flash without blinking until Flash, deeply unnerved, backs out of the room.

"Not funny," Batman says, flipping a page in his newspaper. "He was supposed to be on Watch Duty."

"Now Batman," Phantom drapes his tail across the man's shoulders and lets his fangs elongate and multiply.

"W̵̢̛͓͉̼͔͉͖̖̥͍̪̲̥̯̞̝͎͔̩̹̙͌̽̐͜ͅh̵̨̠̳̖͔̬̭̟̗̠̹͕̟̮̬͓̺͙̊͛͒ͅo̶̧̢̡̨̨̦͚̼̞̫͈͚̤̜͉̰̱̭͙̣̼͙̱͚͓͐͌̒̋̇ͅ ̵̡̡̰͙̠̦͙̼̘̪͈̻̟̙̳͚̤̮̖̱̎̐̀̇̾͛͊͛͊̈̋̈̋̿̍͑̔̏̎͑̒͗̚͘͝͠͝ͅs̵̡̹̣̗̼̙͓͖͉̒̃͋̂̄̄̈́͋̾̈́̀̎̉̓̒̇͐̎͊̚͝͝a̵̡̧͔͍͍͙͔͖̮̦͚͍̖̲͖͖̻̍͊͆̊̿́̿̅́̈͠͠͠i̴͙͙̾̌͊̓̂̌̒͒d̶̨͚̳̟̲̻̤͇͖̞͙̹̯͙̟͓͙͇͖̺̺̎͊͐̏͌̌̅̄́̏̽̓̃͂̓͜͜͝ͅͅ ̵̧̢͎͔̜̮̼̻̫̗̼͙͍͔̺͎͐̍̈́͜͜͜I̵̢̢̛̙̤̳͈̮̜̩͇͕̠̻̫̳̟̤̭͙͖̓̾̓̇̈́̂͒͂͌̍̎̅̑̇̔̇́͌͜͝ ̵̛̣̮̩̩̞̯̻̱̻̳͍̞͙̗̤̗̥͔̭̥͒͒̌͗̿͐̓̇̈̔̌͒̋̑̽̇͜͝ͅẁ̷̧̮̳̗̗͍̠̦̃a̸̡̧̛̛̺͈͍̟̣̫̺̟̗̥̲̻̥͔͔̲̱̣̩̠̖̰̿̋̄͆̀͋́̐̈́́̈́͌͆̅͂́̈́̓͗́̇ş̵̨̨̨̛̛͔̦͚̦̝̺̯̗͓̼̟͙̼̩̣̺̠̭̘͂̏̓̋̓̋̇̏͊̃͊͊͋̊̑̀͌̂͋͐͘̚͜͝ ̶̢̧͍͓̹̘͍̱̬̜̙̮̖̒̃͊̀̀̓̈́̆̀͐̇̿̀̇̿̆̔̂̈́͘͠ͅͅj̵̯̱̇̈́̌̈͌͆̋̑̇̋̎̐̈̇̓͘͘̚͝o̷̢̙͎̹̰̟̳̼̠̖͉̦̘̺̙͑͂͑̌̉͗̑͑̉͌͜͜͠͝͠ͅk̶̡͇̈́͋̈̈́̐̀̂̈́̽̾͌̂̾̊̑͘͠ḯ̸̢̢̢̞̱̦͙͖̱̙͕̞̮̫̱̣̤̥͍͍̫̗͔͙̞̘̓̂̄͂̿̉͒̈̍̅̍̅̍̏̋̕͘͝͠͝ͅņ̴̛͉̲̮̫̩̙̠̯̤͚̠̥̳͈̝͇́̂͑g̶̛͎̻̟͍̯̪̺̬͍̲̱͇̪̩̰͆̓͊̃̅͗̆̈́̊̈́͘?"

Batman lifts his head from the newspaper silently.

"Ugh, fine!" Phantom says, throwing his hands up. "I'll take next watch."

"Hn."

[frilled-cheese-sandwich]

A lil ee!Vees doodle to get the brain juices flowing

[elizakai]

DUSTARD NATION WAKE UP.

DUSTARD NATION AWAKEN.

WAKE UP WE WERE VALID ALL ALONG.

couple friends and i are running around talking about dusttale and i saw something i’ve NEVER heard of before.

there’s an unofficial dusttale ending, written by one of dusttales (co?) creators, called Who judges the judge (somethin like that i’m too excited to double check shhhh)

BUT. essentially Dust meets Fell sans. They become friends. They become friends ok.

AND DUST BASICALLY ASKS HIM TO HOLD HIM ACCOUNTABLE AND JUDGE HIM if he goes off the rails. EVENTUALLY HE DOES BCS THATS HOW TIMELOOPS BE OK he loses his actual motivations. and they fight. and then fell gets fuckin yeeted into underfell again and dusttale gets restarted and it’s like CLASSIC TIMELINE AGAIN but ultimately reverts to dusttale again over time and most of the deets are in korean and i sped read it but THATS ALL BESIDES THE POINT.

DUSTARD FODDER, RIGHT FROM THE SOURCE. (don’t make fun of me i’m literally so happy stop how have i never heard of this. who was gatekeeping.)

GUYSSSS FELL IS DUST’S COLOR SANS

[alcedeerie]

Personally I’m a little bias but I’d like to think the sisters would have a better relationship for this.

I think Lorelai would try and help Molly cut loose and have fun while Calliope puts so much educational expectations on them.

Though maybe there is a chance Lorelai might be working the store more as Calliope sees it as a way for her to “prepare for the adult world” since she is almost 18.

But yeah I could imagine Lorelai trying to sneak off with Molly in tow so that she has a chance to breathe under Calliope’s oppression.

Yeah that’s understandable. And yeah, I’d like to think Lori would still cope with dream worlds in this AU, but in a more rebellious way. She’d be vastly more burdened by work. She’d still feel guilty about the whole fire thing. Calliope might not even like her dream bubble escapades.

I think she wouldn’t actually know Molly is as bothered by it as she is, and envy her for it. She might not be able to really see that Molly is just faking her optimism and chill to hide her awful anxiety. Still, she invites her because she’s the only source of relief in the entire house and it’s hard to imagine anything fun without her because of stress.

Plus, sometimes Molly takes design notes from Lorelai’s dream worlds to try to make Calliope’s job easier. It only helps a little bit, but it’s better than nothing.

[btsydtrash]

Euphoric Endeavors [20]

vampire bts, poly ot7 x uni student yn

Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus’ most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth.

Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger.

It’s too bad that they can’t seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.

(angst / smut / yandere / fluff / gore)

Masterlist / i dont have a tag list / find me on twitter  /  word count: 5.06k

(AN: Hi, all! This story is actually already posted on AO3. But, I decided to post it on here. I have almost 50 chapters of this story up over there, so I’ll slowly be adding them onto here too)

tw: mentions of physical abuse, abandonment issues, allusions to masturbation, anger issues

Waking up the next morning, the last thing you expect to see is a wall of honeyed skin bracketing you in place.

Hoseok’s sleep-slack face is above you. The older man is laying on his stomach, one arm bent so his cheek can rest on it, the other stiff by his side. You notice, idly, that he looks infinitely younger when he’s asleep. There’s no bravado here, just him, resting, relaxed – at peace – and you wish you could see the sight every day, considering how beautiful he is.

Unconsciously, you catalogue his features, burning the slightly pointed tip of his nose in your brain. His high cheekbones and sleep-swollen lips imprint themselves in your head, and you couldn’t forget this sight even if you tried. His lashes are dark and long, and his hair is a mess of curls atop his head, exposing his forehead. He had put a headband in, apparently to keep the strands from his eyes.

Entranced, you reach up, barely touching his skin, to trace from the corner of his eye to his jaw, reverence practically shining in your eyes. He sniffs in his sleep, burrowing deeper into the safety of his arms

“Are you awake now?” A rough voice asks from behind you, making you jump out of your skin. Yoongi is staring at you from where he had been laying, content to just watch you sleep. When you had woken up, you had twisted away from him, making him pout childishly. Now, though, your attention was back on him, his lips quirk up in a private smile as he remarks, playfully, “You look like you had a good night.”

“My head hurts,” you complain, pathetically, wanting to cover your eyes with your hands. You ask, frowning slightly in confusion, “How did I get here? Why am I in bed with you guys?”

You don’t feel even remotely unsafe, but the fact that the last thing you remember is jumping onto Jungkook’s back in the back yard is disconcerting.

“You’re awfully clingy when you get drunk,” Yoongi remarks, light-heartedly. He sits up, the sheets pooling at his waist, and you notice that his shirt is too big, showing off the pale expanse of his collarbone and shoulder. It makes your mouth feel drier than before. “You wouldn’t let Hobi go to sleep on the couch, so he spent the night in bed with you.”

With burning ears, you feel yourself frown. You really ought to stop drinking so much.

Still… something about the set up of the bed makes you snicker.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re in bed with us too,” you remark.

He shrugs, expression passive. “It looked comfortable.”

“And, was it?” You enquire, rolling onto your side to glance up at him. “Comfortable, I mean.”

He glances at you, meaning imbued heavily in his gaze, and he nods. “Very.”

Cheeks pinking quickly, you drop your eyes to his shirt and you finger the smooth material, to distract yourself. “Is this Joonie’s shirt?”

He looks down at it, pulling it away from his body, before sleepily nodding. His eyes are puffy, almost half-way closed, but he seems well-rested, still floating contentedly in the vestiges of slumber. He explains, “We always wear each other’s stuff. No big.”

Feeling somewhat envious, you simply nod and move to sit up too. Hoseok’s grip tightens on your waist and he makes a noise of dissent in his sleep, brow instantly furrowing.

“He’s just as clingy as you are,” Yoongi says, a rough chuckle tumbling from his lips. He slides out of bed, scratching his scalp, messing up his already chaotic blond nest and mumbles, “I’ll go get you something to eat.”

“You don’t have to, Yoon,” you reply, cosying up to Hobi. You feel like being lazy and being so close to the dancer’s warmth makes your stomach-ache feel more manageable. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

The blond snorts, giving you an uninterested look that has you shutting up with an audible clack of your jaw. He rests his knee on the bed to press a finger to your nose, mischievously, before he comments, lightly, “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to, sweetheart.”

And then he’s gone, backing out of your space and disappearing to the kitchen to whip up a quick breakfast for you to eat in bed.

Hoseok makes a soft noise in his sleep, like a mix between a sigh and a groan, before he snuggles up closer to you, so your back is flush with his chest, arm tossed over your middle. You relax into his hold, letting the soft puffs of his breath against your ear lull you back under the fuzzy blanket of exhaustion. You feel yourself succumbing to the urge to fall into your own dreams once more…

That is, until you tense up all over when you feel something hard and hot poke in your lower back.

Jerking away from the throbbing heat, you feel your face flood, instantly, in embarrassment. You curse yourself for being so skittish, but you aren’t used to being in such an intimate setting with another body, used to a quick and mostly unsatisfying romp in the sheets, followed by a swift exit and an awkward Uber ride back to your dorm room. This, however, feels intimate.

You think, mind whirring, it’s just the morning, he can’t help it. It’s perfectly natural. You’re the one making it weird. Just get up normally and he’ll let you g-

“Don’t move so much,” Hoseok grumbles, voice thick and rough and so deep with sleep that you feel tingles break out all over your body. His grip only tightens fractionally around your middle and you feel him pull himself closer to you, if that’s even possible. “You’re so warm, sunshine.”

“Mphm, Hobi,” you grumble, struggling to worm your way out of his steel-like grip. For someone who’s half-asleep, he sure likes to hold on tight. You feel bad for the plushies that Joon says he steals off his bed. You say, quickly, trying to avoid rubbing against his arousal, “I need to pee!”

“Liar,” he whispers against the skin of your shoulder, dry lips pressing briefly against your skin, so light that it feels as if he’s kissing you. He still sounds out of it, disorientated even. “You just want to leave me.”

Huffing, you wiggle harder, actively pulling yourself away from him, but he only lets out a growl of disapproval. You say, “When you wake up properly, you’re going to be so embarrassed.”

“Nothin’ to be ‘barrassed about,” he sulks, nosing into your neck, as if burrowing for more warmth. “’s normal for me to hold you like this.”

That’s where you snap, nails gripping into the meat of his forearm and shake him.

“Pressing your hard dick into my back is the antithesis of normal, Hobi,” you snap.

At that, he lets you go as if your body had just spontaneously combusted, nearly throwing himself away from you, a wall of cold air replacing the blanket of warmth that you had just been swaddled in. You barely have time to miss the feeling before you see his face crack into something you could only liken to horror.

“’m sorry!” He stammers, sitting up but covering himself with a pillow, cheeks so ruddy that you are sure that if you touched them, they would be burning with warmth. He mutters, twisting his fingers in the deep green covers, “It’s morning and I- I wasn’t thinking.”

Feeling guilty over his embarrassed appearance, you say, “It’s fine. No harm, no foul.”

He slides out of bed, shivering a little at the cold of the bedroom, before jerking his thumb to the bathroom, awkwardly. He avoids your eyes as he mumbles, “I’ll go, uh, take care of this.”

If you didn’t think your cheeks could burn any hotter, you were wrong.

“Jerk!” You toss the plushie at his head, which he ducks out of and, giggling, disappears into the bathroom.

The shower flicks on in the distance and you drown out the potential sounds of the bathroom by getting out of bed and exploring the house. Your head aches, but there’s two tablets and a bottle of water on the bedside table that you neck down instantly.

“Thanks for the medication, Yoon,” you say, softly, as you walk into the kitchen. The blond had been standing at the sink, his slender back facing you, draped in a mass of material and his narrow waist hidden from your sight, as he chewed listlessly on some of Taehyung’s mango chips.

He offers you the bag with a small smile and the two of you giggle, remembering the time Tae almost killed you in the backseat because you ate them all without asking. Well, Yoongi took most of the blame, but you definitely enjoyed more than your fair share.

“Sit with me while I cook,” he declares, and even though it should sound like a question, you wouldn’t be able to deny him even if you tried.

You hop onto the sideboard and kick your feet as you watch him expertly flit around the kitchen, snapping off the yellow washing up gloves after he had finished hand-washing the mess from last night and moving to the oven. Open flames burst from the hob and within minutes, he has a mass of bubbling hobs on the go, without issue.

“There’s a reason why I’m not allowed in the kitchen by myself,” you joke. “I would have burned myself to high hell already.”

He glances your way, briefly. “You don’t cook at all?”

“I try,” you say, before tossing another mango chip into your mouth. “My Mom says I’m hopeless with anything domestic.”

“That’s okay,” he answers, unbothered. “I’ll teach you. And anything I can’t teach you, I’ll do for you. There – no problem.”

You don’t know why but his words make your stomach feel as if a medley of butterflies had just been released and you can barely hide your smile before you ask, “Can you sew?”

“For that, you’ll have to ask Jiminie,” he says, begrudgingly. “He’s always been the one to adjust our clothes since we were kids.”

You inquire, curiosity piqued – the idea of a mini-Jimin sewing up holes in the knees of Joon’s scruffy jeans, or the split seams of Jin’s shirts when he started growing too big for his clothes, making you coo internally. “Who taught him?”

“My Mom did,” a voice calls from the hallway. Jimin saunters into the room, already dressed, hair still damp and a towel draped around his shoulders. He looks at you, eyes bright with concern. “Are you feeling better? I heard our baby got too drunk last night.”

The nickname doesn’t even give you pause anymore, considering the medley of monikers they’ve given you against your will. Despite the fact that you’re actually older than Taehyung and Jungkook, and therefore the furthest from the baby of the group, you feel warmed by the pet name.

Pouting, you nod. “I feel much better. Yoon made sure I got tablets, and he cuddled me last night. Hobi, too. It was nice.”

“And I missed out on that?” He asks, quirking his brow as he approaches you. He nudges your knees apart in a surprisingly daring act, and wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his nose to your collar. “You smell like hyung.”

“I did sleep in his bed,” you mutter, shyly. Unable to stop yourself, you grab the tail end of the damp towel and sop up the trails of water that have dripped from his hair and lead down the neck of his shirt. You complain, “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“You’ll keep me warm,” he murmurs against your skin. “Sleep with me tonight, won’t you, YN?”

Yoongi snorts from where he’s frying some kimchi pancakes in the small pan. “Now that you’ve started this tradition, I hope you don’t plan on sleeping alone any time soon, YN.”

Jimin huffs at him. “Don’t start, hyung. You got to sleep with her, so did Hobi-hyung. And Joonie got to sleep in her room. I haven’t even been in her room. You guys are being so unfair.”

He’s practically stamping his bare feet on the linoleum before you let out a light giggle at his childish, bratty antics. “Fine, fine. I’ll sleep with you tonight. I hope you don’t mind that I talk in my sleep.”

He looks at you, skin glistening and smelling faintly of aloe and eucalyptus, directly into your eyes, holding your gaze for a beat. “As long as you’re with me, honey, I won’t mind if you do anything.”

////

After breakfast in bed with Jimin, Hoseok and Yoongi all piled around you like a pack of baby bears, watching one of Hoseok’s shows on Netflix (“Shut up, Jimin! If I miss any more of this because of your infernal mouth-breathing, I’m going to shave your eyebrows off. Again!”), you find yourself being whisked away by a well-dressed Jin.

“I’ve got a meeting with my father,” he says, once you make a face at his expensive suit and tie, even though it’s definitely Saturday and it isn’t even noon. “Do I meet your expectations, petal?”

You roll your eyes at his smug expression, but you nod, excitedly. “You really do look like an idol.”

“God didn’t give me this face for no reason,” he says, gesturing to his puffy lips with a wink. “Isn’t that Jungkook’s shirt?”

You look down at the button up that you had been handed by a sleepy Taehyung (really, he’d shoved it into your hands before he fell back asleep in your lap, dribbling into the crease of your thigh), and nod, vaguely. “Maybe?”

“It smells like him,” he comments, lips turning down. “I should have given you my shirt. Quick, YN. Get changed into mine.”

“Why?” You ask, laughing at his conspiratorial look. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I just- I want you to smell like me, is all,” he replies, pouting. “You spend so much time with the others… I don’t get to be with you as much.”

You move to deny his statement, but honestly, you can’t. You say, reaching for the sleeve of his blazer, “How about… After your meeting, how about we go for some food together? Just us?”

The way his eyes glitter at your words makes it all worth it. Despite the rolling of your stomach, the brilliance of his smile makes you feel as if you had somehow saved the nation.

“Let’s go, YN,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the apartment. He doesn’t let go of your hand the whole drive to his Dad’s building, holding it over the console, running his thumb along the seam of your index finger, only letting you go to change gears, before swiftly knitting your fingers back together, as if it had always belonged there.

Arriving at his father’s building, you feel significantly out of your depth.

“It’s huge, right?” The tall man says, staring up at the skyrise with barely concealed repugnance in his eyes. “Just being here brings my mood down. Knowing it exists makes me feel sick.”

You let out a soft sigh, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He looks down at you, as if realising you’re still by his side. “I’ll be here for you, you do know that, right?”

He lets out a barely-there smile before setting his jaw. “I’ll be back out in an hour or so. You can sleep in the backseat, if you want.”

“I’m not coming in?”

He looks over at you, surprise raising his brows to nearly his hairline. “You want to meet my father?”

“I mean… I’m not opposed to it,” you mumble, feeling strangely put out. “You don’t want me to meet him?”

His smile dims slightly. “I want a lot of things, petal. I can’t get all of them.”

Then, he’s off, jaw hard and his expression so distant that it makes your heart clench in your chest.

You grab your phone and fire off a text to the only person you can think to ask.

Joonie… Jin and his dad have a bad relationship, right?

He replies within moments. Is he with him now?

He just left for the meeting.

Shit… Okay, after the meeting, he might be a little scary to you, or distant. But he doesn’t mean it, okay? His Dad brings out the worst in him.

Can I ask why?

Jin-hyung is the only one who can tell you that, baby girl.

Okay. Thank you for being honest.

Anything for you.

Deciding to sleep rather than stress out over the occurrences in the room hundreds of meters in the air, you slide off your shoes and curl up, using your coat as a blanket. You don’t think Jin will be back for a while, so with that thought in mind, you end up drifting off, the image of a happier, content Seokjin being the last thing you see.

/

The door slams open and closed with such force, the car shakes, waking you with a start. You look over, eyes still bleary with sleep, to see a murderous-looking Jin, eyes black with rage and his jaw wound so taut, you’re sure it hurts.

“Jin-”

“Not now,” he growls, tone clipped and ice-cold.

The sight and sound of him makes your jaw snap closed, shoulders stiffened with discomfort and, honestly, a small bit of fear. You care for Jin, a lot more than you feel is normal, but this side of him, you aren’t used to.

He glances at you, briefly, before letting out a soft sigh, wincing at the sight of you – withdrawing from him. He reaches across the console, and with a quick squeeze of your hand, he says, quieter, “Please, YN. I don’t want to take it out on you, so just… give me some time, okay?”

You nod. “Okay.”

His eyes plead with you to understand. “Petal…”

“I’m giving you space, Jin,” you say, removing your hand from his and curling it in your lap, the skin burning.

He sighs, returning his hand to the steering wheel and pulling away from the building. Although you are moving away from the cause of his stress, it feels as if the stiffness in the air only grows the longer you are both in the car. Rather than moving towards the dorm, you realise that Jin is driving you in a direction that you’ve never been before.

“What-” You catch yourself before you make another mistake by bothering him, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring, obstinately, out of the front window. You drive and drive and drive, until you start to feel sleepy again. And it’s only when you actually do drift off that he puts the car into park and you hear him shift his body to face you. You glance around – you’re in a fairly empty car park atop a hill, overlooking the Seoul mid-afternoon skyline. You can imagine that it would be awfully beautiful at night.

“Can you look at me, petal?”

You refuse, staring straight ahead.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Please, YN.”

A small part of your anger melts at the way he says your name.

He twists his hands in his lap, nervously, and shifts in his seat. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Then, you shouldn’t have spoken to me like that,” you reply, simply. “I didn’t realise me being here would have put you in such a bad mood. I wouldn’t have come if I knew.”

“Don’t say that,” he implores, weakly. “I always want you around.”

“Sure, you do,” you sass back.

He reaches, limply, for your wrist, and you against your better judgement and bruised ego, you let him take it.

“You’re so precious to me, to all of us. I just-” He lets out a disappointed noise in the back of his throat, holding onto you like a lifeline. “Sometimes, I wish I had never been born.”

This piques your interest, having never experienced this side of him. “What do you mean?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, simply choosing to focus on the veins beneath your skin, tracking them obsessively with his eyes. Not in hunger, but as a reminder that you are here, that you are present and with him in the moment.

He continues, “I’ve always been the oldest of our cluster, meaning I had a lot of responsibilities from a young age, like most hyungs do. I did what I had to do, I loved my little brothers and cared for my cluster, following Namjoon’s orders and being the best I can be. But… Why is it never enough, YN?”

You turn to him now, brow puckering as his eyes lose focus and he becomes consumed with his thoughts.

“Why is it never enough for him? Nothing I do, nothing I say. It’s always nothing but shit to him. He looks at me like he wishes I were dead,” he says, and the honesty in his expression blows a hole in your chest. You feel as if he’s ripped your heart out with his bare hands. You knit your fingers with his, shuffling forward slightly so your knees are touching.

“I told you my brother is supposed to be CEO of the company in my father’s stead, right? Well, that’s unlikely to happen, considering he’s busy fucking through half of Europe, blowing our Dad’s money on hookers and expensive blood stimulant drugs. He won’t have to take that responsibility until he’s ready, just because he’s the oldest. But me? I’m forced to go to a university I hate, study a degree I despise for a man I would much rather never see again.”

“Jinnie…”

“He never sees my brother as in the wrong, no matter what he does,” he complains, grip tight on your hand. “But me, if I get anything less than a hundred on a test, or if I miss class because I have to work because I would rather starve than take his fucking money, I won’t hear the end of it for days.”

“He tears me down until there’s nothing left,” he growls. “He makes me so angry, and then I do the same thing that he always does. I get distant. I feel nothing inside, because that’s better than feeling everything and breaking down so pathetically like this.”

“You aren’t pathetic, Jin,” you tell him, pushing some of his dark hair out of his watery eyes. “You’re so strong and so important to me. To all of us.”

He lets out a shaky breath, hands trembling. “Just living in that apartment, knowing that he’ll willingly throw it back in my face, makes me so angry. But I do it. Because the boys need somewhere to live. And I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let them suffer because of my stupid pride.”

He cards a hand through his hair, forehead damp with sweat. He’s overwhelming himself into a panic.

“I hate him, YN. I hate how he never acknowledges anything that I do. I hate how he always takes my brother’s side,” he says, and when he finally looks at you again, his eyes are laced with pain and you practically feel his soul crying out for you. You grab his hand tighter when he chokes out a sob. “I hate that I keep wanting him to be proud of me.”

“It’s okay, Jin,” you soothe, crawling over and opening your arms for him to wrap himself around you. Patting his back, gently, you rub your hand in small, rhythmic circles, and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. “It’s okay to want his approval. He’s your father, this successful mogul, and the person who you have been looking up to for your whole life. You don’t have to feel stupid for wanting him to say he’s proud of you.”

He lets out a broken whine at your words, pulling your hand to his lips as he breathes against the skin. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

You pull him in close, pressing dry kisses to his temple and letting him rest his face in the crook of your neck. The angle is awkward because he’s so much bigger than you, but he seems to need it regardless.

“You’re okay.”

“You’re safe.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You aren’t alone.”

“We care for you.”

“You’re so strong.”

You keep the one thing you can feel bursting from behind your lips to yourself, too scared to ruin the atmosphere of trust that he had given you. You feel his tears stain your shirt, but you pay it little mind. This is about Seokjin – the one person who you had always looked at as a pillar of strength and playfulness. Little did you know, there was a maelstrom of pain and anguish hidden behind his bright smile.

Once his breathing calms and the tears have dried on his cheeks, you take a good look at him, watery eyes, pink cheeks, red-raw lips from where he’d bitten them to keep the sobs at bay, and you feel your earlier displeasure dissolve into nothingness. How stupid must you have been to have held something so petty over his head when he had needed comforting so much.

“Honey…”

He scoffs, lightly, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve, staring down at his large hands. “You and Jimin are the same, only using that nickname when you feel sorry for me. Or, when you want something.”

“I’ll call you honey all the time from now on,” you promise, reaching for his hand. He looks at where your hands are joined, sniffing a little more, and your heart aches at how much of a pathetic figure he seems, all scrunched up in the corner of his car. “You can talk to me, honey.”

He groans, staring at the roof of the car. “My brother isn’t exactly business-friendly. He’d wreck my Dad’s company in a year, tops, but my father has a very traditional mindset. He thinks because hyung is older, he deserves to run the company, no matter how bad his personality is. Unfortunately, that means I’m the one who has to pick up the slack, as his younger brother.”

He turns your hands over, playing with the ring on his finger, idly. “I didn’t want to do business, you know.”

“I can tell,” you say, softly, stroking his fingers in a gesture of comfort. “What did you want to do?”

He lets out a humourless laugh. “I wanted to act.”

And, honestly. It makes sense. Jin’s personality favours the ostentatious, the bright and the loud, the melodramatics of theatre fit his persona perfectly.

You ask, “Wanted, as in past tense?”

He glances at you. “It’s not like there aren’t supernatural actors. Lee Minho is a selkie.” His eyes widen, slightly, and he murmurs, contritely, “Oh, I shouldn’t have told you that. Well, you won’t tell anyone. I trust you.”

It doesn’t even surprise you anymore, so you simply smile at his admission and continue to draw soft shapes on the back of his hand.

“The first time I saw my father laugh was the day I told him I wanted to act,” he says, resentfully. “He said that there was no way someone as uninteresting as me could entertain anyone. He said that I should only focus on what I was good at – studies – and that I should throw my stupid dreams of acting out of my mind before he beat some sense into me.”

You decide, instantly, that you hated his Dad more than you’ve hated anyone else in your life.

Cautiously, you ask, brow puckering, “He didn’t ever… you know, hit you, did he?”

“Sometimes,” Jin replies. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. It wasn’t like I didn’t deserve it. I was a flighty kid, even more than I am now, so… Yeah.”

“Nobody deserves to get hit, Jin,” you tell him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m really… I’m just sorry this happened to you.”

He smiles, softly, and wipes his thumb across your cheek, catching a stray tear and flicking it away. “Don’t cry for me, YN. I’m made of tougher stuff.”

“I’m not,” you grumble, holding his hand a little tighter. “I’m upset for you.”

He chuckles, wetly, at your scowl, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a quick kiss there. “You’re so cute.”

His smile slowly disappears as he stares out at the city in front of the two of you, hands intertwined over the console in the car, before he sits up a little straighter. “Once I graduate, I’m leaving.”

The bottom of your stomach falls out at his words, instantly, at his words.

Drawing away, slightly, you ask, “W-What do you mean ‘leaving’?”

“I don’t want to stay here anymore,” he admits, quietly. “I’ve already talked to Joonie about it, and he’s willing to let me go.”

“Seokjin.”

He looks over at you, surprised by the hard tone of your voice, and his eyes widen even more at the sight of the tears in your eyes. “What’s wrong, petal?”

“You can’t leave us,” you tell him, gripping his sleeve, as if he’s getting ready to go away now. “W-What are we supposed to do?”

“I’m not leaving forever, petal,” he says, softly, reaching to tuck some hair behind your ear. “Just a year or so. To find myself, you know? It’ll be good for me.”

You still can’t make sense of the agony rushing through your system. The idea of not seeing Jin, of not hearing his loud laugh or seeing the mop of dark hair poking out of the burrito of blankets in the living room at 3am when both of you can’t sleep. Or, holding his hand in the dark under those same sheets and feeling his slow heartbeat pulse against your ear, lulling you to sleep.

You can’t say anything, not wanting to guilt him for wanting to explore, but also being unable to force yourself to support him either.

You simply can’t imagine him being absent from your life, it just doesn’t make sense.

- end -

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20)

[zoomerinaboomercostume]

Epithet Erased x Evil Genius fusion

Aight everyone, hear me out.

The basic idea is that Giovanni somehow ends up in charge of a Evil Genius startup, & applies his own brand of “villainy” to the scene. Then he discovers what the other Evil Geniuses are doing, is appropriately horrified, & starts working to tear down both sides until a regular civilian government is put in place. (After the first EG game, the Forces of Justice basically took over the world to protect it.)

His playthroughs are some of the hardest in-game, having to fend off both the F.O.J & the other Geniuses. He compensates with greater Minion loyalty & the ability to make Sub-Lairs, headed by one of his Boys, an older Molly, or another character from EE. 

Naven here could have been a former Evil Genius in the timeframe of the first game. He was one of the losers of the Great Genius War (all the Geniuses of the first game, plus this timeline’s Banzai Blasters, Bliss Ocean & the F.O.J duking it out over the fate of the world) & lost Yootmah during a battle between them & Alexis’ Minions. Now he & the remainder of Bliss Ocean are helping to train & advise Giovanni’s rising star, but some of his advice seems a little... unorthodox.

[amaranthdahlia]

ok whew more super indulgent stuff with the kdch kids, but this time with their godparent/uncle and their older brother figure :]]

...and their estranged uncle

[ramblings-from-the-ether]

The Banzai Blaster group who started this is either in hiding or dead. Probably the latter.

Either way, they've started something that they can't stop.

"The plains were dead, from the mightiest daggermen to the last ant. There were to be no vultures to feast; for they too had joined the mound of anguish." -The Roots of Hate, Chronicles of Lost Humanity.

I can imagine a campaign for Suzerain based on this now. Possibly where you play as the new Chancellor Of Internal Affairs inheriting a position caught in the power struggle between a reformist president losing control in desperation, and a vengeful Fleecity Clique threatening to tear the land apart in their quest for finality. The turmoil eliciting the attention of Taiga's recently retitled southern neighbour Deepwood Country; ready to prove its legitimacy onto the world stage...

[7roaches]

assorted doodles be nice to him

[ichigoofficial]

Hi guys so while im cooking stuff up for OCs I want you to have um,,

These!!! Animatronic AU designs!!!

It's gonna be an AU inspired by FNAF Security Breach, but it's also kinda it's own thing!!!

Some characters have their designs based on their assigned animal and also a certain theme!

(Like how Feenie is a sheep and has a Bo Peep inspired costume!)

Sylvie's glasses are also supposed to be screens of some sort idk

Anyways eat up!! Yummy!!