#is my luck really this bad or is this rigged...

[vintagecandy]

1920s Edward Nygma, A.K.A -- The Riddler! ( I will try to make this one slightly more brief lmao ) ☆ ETSY // COMMISSIONS

So when it comes to the Riddler, ordinarily, I always struggle with him aesthetically, because he doesn't have as much obvious themeing as "southern halloween" or "the entirety of alice in wonderland", and so I knew I wanted to take advantage of how severely I am rearranging all the rogue's aesthetics to give the Riddler something specific and time period appropriate to visually do, yknow?

In my mind, when I think of the Riddler I think of... technically winnable but highly tilted competitions of wit. Almost like a rigged game. That, combined with a very cocky "wise ass" personality. So! I knew pretty early on I wanted him to be a carnival barker! ( Puzzles and riddles and things of that nature were more common as a pass-time back then ) I considered giving him a straw boater instead of his usual bowler hat... but the bowler hat is so iconic to him and time period appropriate, so I left it. I think it still gives carnival owner, tbh, just a little more greasy than cute. Which fits, frankly. Yes, so although carnival imagery is associated with the Joker, the Joker is, of course, a silent film comedian ( in loving homage to his origin ), thus freeing up the funhouse for Edward. Although, he's no clown, he's more the one making a fool out of you.

Edward Nygma, as an orphan immigrant of Irish descent, came to America with nothing but the clothes on his back and his eyes on that shining city on the hill, the beacon of opportunity, and above all-- the land of meritocracy. Of course, however, reality set in after he stepped foot off the boat. It also didn't help the city he set foot in was Gotham. Despite being an engineering prodigy befit the rapidly industrializing city of the future, he ran into bad luck after bad luck, constantly seeming to stumble on his way up the ladder as opportunities slipped away and seemed to be given to-- in his mind-- less deserving men. With his frustration mounting, and a compulsive mind that never seems to let him let any insults to his pride go, it all comes to a breaking point when one of Gotham's biggest corporations scams him out of the patent for one of his innovations. Its only then does he finally realize what the "land of opportunity" really means.

Giving up on the "honest man" approach, Edward resorts to cheap cons, eventually building enough success to open a carnival of games, mysteries, snake oil, and of course, riddles-- Taking on the performer name "The Riddler" as a face for the event. A big, shiny bauble to lure in the dumb masses to willingly fork up their money to him. After all, if they were stupid enough to fall for it, they deserve whatever happens to them. However, this was all a front for the far grander scheme he constructs to take down the company who wronged him all that time ago. Because who would ever suspect a two-bit carnie could be capable of such a thing?

But, careful as he was, stirring trouble that big was enough to bring the attention of the Bat, eventually-- of course-- leading to the reveal that the Riddler anticipated their arrival and turned his carnival into a puzzle laden death trap. Even though Batman wins, because of course, he does incidentally ( or perhaps on purpose ) reveal to the public that the Ed is the real genius behind his stolen tech, thus leaving Mr. Nygma laughing all the way to the mad house. Even if he still doesn't get to own the patent.

Edward has a more... modern and subtle mental illness, being his OCD and other symptoms, and I feel a corrupt 1920s mad house that only vaguely cares to cure its patients would struggle to even understand exactly what the source of his more erratic behavior is coming from. He's constantly tense, speaks a mile a minute and for long periods, and is prone to sudden and aggressive outbursts of anger. They will likely acknowledge he seems obsessive, hyperactive, and prone to grandiose thinking but consider him a less hopeless case compared to say, Jervis Tetch.

However, his alignment lands him squarely in the anti-society section, thus aligning him with his soon to be sometimes-partners in crime, Jonathan and Jervis.

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀AT THE FAIRGROUND w/ SOLDIER BOY.

NOTES .ᐣ idea came from the loveliest @sl33pylilbunny :3 this is SO cute i love it so much ohmygosh. used a jellycat cause i love em n want one really bad.

"i'll win y'every single thing in this damn place if it'll get you to stop whinin' 'bout it," ben grumbles as he stares down the plush toy stuck within its glass enclosure. it's taunting him, taunting you. those beady black eyes.. it knows exactly what it's doing. and ben'll be damned if he loses to a fucking teddy bear with a pumpkin for a body. he'd beat countless of threats before—a teddy bear was nothing. and besides, you'd been giving the thing the softest, most adoring googly eyes from the moment you'd seen it. which was approximately.. almost an hour ago.

the staring was fine, sure, but the moment you started begging him to win it for you, for a good ten minutes? yeah, he has to get it over and done with, he realised. after the fifth, "ben, please, it's half teddy bear half pumpkin," he'd been practically sprinting across the fairground to make it to the infamous claw machine holding your future plush toy hostage. that toy would be yours, he'd make sure of it. it has to be.

he also wanted to prove the stories wrong, the ones saying that the claw machine was 'unbeatable' or that it took only luck to win it. he's soldier boy, for fuck's sake. "which one you want again, sweetheart?" he sighed, scratching the back of his neck momentarily. ben knew exactly what you wanted but he wanted to see the twinkle in your eyes when you mentioned it.

your brows raise skeptically for a minute when he asks, but a soft smile settles on your lips. "that one right there," you hum, "teddy bear, pumpkin body, it's literally perfect, oh my god," ben just watches you for a minute, a scoff escaping him. though the corners of his lips flit up at the sight of you and he sighs, "yeah, yeah, i got it. just watch 'n' learn." he gestured for you to step back a little bit, so he could work his magic.

honestly? anyone else looking on would've been so confused to see a guy like ben winning a stuffed toy. or at a fairground in the first place. he'd been totally reluctant, actually—it's not exactly his kind of fun but it is yours. he was wrapped around your finger wholeheartedly, he'd do every damn thing you asked him to. even if he wouldn't admit it, even if it was a little embarrassing for him. so dragging him to the fairground wasn't difficult at all when it came down to it.

and he had to admit, it was pretty cool here. it's halloween themed, with all the trimmings—haunted house, kids in cute costumes, the music. it almost makes him nostalgic, in a way. going on the rides was a lot of fun too, seeing the way you screamed and shriek when the two of you went on the drop tower was so much fucking fun.

"stop being a pussy—! holy fucking shit, this is it, it's over—"

what he didn't want to admit was the way he was also screaming and shrieking everytime the gondola got dropped. despite how he denied it, those photos you'd gotten on the way out completely corroborate your statement and destroyed his. those'd be perfect for your wallet, you knew. and y'know what'd be even better for like, your life, just, in general? that teddy bear.

"people say these things are rigged," ben starts, rubbing his hands together as if that's summoning the power he needs to beat the machine.

you stare at the back of his head for a moment, a skeptical sound escaping you. an interesting take from ben, sure, but everyone knows he has a lot of those. "is that not because they literally are rigged?" your words are amused, and you full on laugh when he pins you with that unamused look of his own. "just saying," your shoulders shrug, a smile playing on your lips at the sight of him.

"gotta have faith, baby," he tells you, deciding not to actually address what you'd said in favour of channeling any and all energy towards winning you the toy. "with all this strength o'mine it's gonna work," ben murmurs, holding onto the joystick like it owes him money. you won't be surprised if it does end up owing him money considering the odds of a claw machine like this one.

if he didn't manage to win the teddy bear, you wouldn't mind all that much. sure, you wanted it, but at the same time, the dedication that ben had to do it for you would've been enough. but also, you knew you wouldn't be leaving that damn machine without a pumpkin teddy bear in your hands. "you see, it's all in the technique."

"technique, huh?" you muse, moving a little closer to stand beside him and watch for a moment, hands moving into the pockets of your jacket. well, his jacket. you'd taken it since it was warm and smelt exactly like his cologne. "yeah, technique," ben nods, completely serious, not an ounce of sarcasm in his tone compared to yours. "told y'to watch 'n' learn, so watch 'n' learn," he cleared his throat, before his brow furrowed in concentration.

your watching and learning soon became watch and learn how to get narrowly close to being banned from a fairground. you're pretty sure the amount of profanities that came out of ben over the past.. probably ten minutes is enough to get the two of you thrown out considering how many children are nearby. might get a record for the most mothers covering their childrens' ears at this rate.

"ben, it's okay, i can just buy one off the websi—"

"you're getting this fucking bear tonight, darlin'," everytime you'd tried to convince him it was okay, that you guys could go get burgers and fries and call it a day, he told you that the two of you wouldn't be moving from there. "almost got it.. almost.." his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, as he inserted another coin into the machine. this time the joystick actually owed him money. and the thirty other times, but that didn't matter now.

you zone out a little bit now, assuming this'd be like the aformentioned thirty other times, where he'd spewed out obscenities, then proceeded to shove another coin into the machine like nothing had happened prior. ben had assured you this was his 'method' and everything was happening according to plan. he'd never exactly been great at planning, but there you were.

"i told you!" that snaps you out of your thoughts, and much to your surprise, when you look up, there's a teddy bear with a pumpkin for a body in ben's hands. he's beaming like an idiot, so proud of himself even if he'd been acting previously like he wasn't even breaking a sweat. he wipes his forehead, some sweat having accumulated from how hard he was working. a little concerning, considering it was a pretty cold day, but.. the dedication.

"oh my god, ben!" you're practically squealing, looking between him and the teddy bear back and forth rapidly before you find yourself wrapping your arms around the two of them. subtly tucking the toy by his armpit, he eases his arms around you in return. a smug smile settles on his lips, his head cocking to the side momentarily to get a full look of you so happy and clinging to his figure.

"just doin' what i gotta do, y'know," ben shrugs, his free hand cradling the back of your head gently. the two of you were completely blocking the claw machine from anyone else, some kid standing there awkwardly since he wanted to use it, but he decided you two were having a bit of a moment so he thought maybe the haunted house was a better choice. "you uh.. really like that thing, huh?"

"like you a lot more, actually," you mumble, grasping at his face and drawing him closer so you can peck your lips to his own. his eyes widen for a minute, and before he gets the chance to melt in more, you pull back. he pouts, glancing around a minute. it made sense, yeah, this is a fairground, but still. can't leave a guy hanging like that. he sighs, "had me workin' real hard there. think the least a guy can get is some good food, right?"

you hummed for a moment in mock thought. as if you were gonna say no and make him win another plush toy. he quite literally would've lost his mind if you'd asked him to. luckily, you nodded, "okay, yeah. burgers?" you offer too, head tilting.

"and fries, can't forget 'em," he murmured, nodding his head in return. before he walked with you to the food stands, he reached for the teddy bear and pushed it into your hands gently. a soft smile played on his lips, "yeah, now we're ready. c'mon, m'fuckin' starvin'."

ִ ֹ ★ @blue-d, @dayzeandhaze, @gibson-g1rl, @stevelacylovebot, @psychicnatural, @funkycoloured, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @soldierboycunt, @hrtsoldierboy, @beetlejenna, @venusiers, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @pr3ttyf4wn, @pillwebb, @beridollie, @sincerebabydoll, @angelicjackles, @sweetrelieef, @deansbite, @morganwrites12672, @chevroletdean, @fallbhind ִ ꒱

[byproducts-of-my-imagination]

Everyone Hates Todo Except You

The best part about Todo is that you don’t have to put yandere in front of him because his normal behavior already screams delusional and obsessive.   You cannot convince me that he doesn’t sniff all your things as soon as you’re not looking.  He’s just so intense.  I love this man, need to catch up on jjk.

~1k words. Thank you to whoever requested this and I hope you enjoy!

At the Kyoto branch, nobody really bothers sticking their nose in Todo’s business.  But when there’s an enormous mound of trash bags outside his room that just keeps getting bigger, concerning glances and eyebrow raises no longer cut it.  Normally his antics earn a side eye or two, but lately it’s been a little much, even for him.  At the breakfast table the next day, the girls decide to draw straws to see who has to tell him to move his shit.

“It’s not fair!  Why do I have to do it?”  Miwa groans, cursing her bad luck for the thousandth time.  

“It is fair, you just happened to draw the short straw now go deal with it!  We'll back you up.”  Mai grins, knowing full well she rigged it.

Kasumi Miwa would rather be doing literally anything else at this moment.  She timidly knocks on the door, and says, “Todo?  Could you move all this stuff please?  You’re starting to block the hallway.”

“Yeah I’ll get to it whenever I get the rest of this junk cleaned up.  Don’t worry there’s no food waste so there shouldn’t be any smell.”

“B-but Todo…. It's been almost a week now…”  The only response was the muted sound of shuffling.

Miwa looks back in defeat at her so-called “back up” as they peek from behind the corner.  Their best bet now is to get one of the boys to convince him.  And if they fail it’s straight to Utahime-sensei.  

Todo looks at his room, emptier than it’s ever been.  He knew this was the likeliest outcome.  Takada-chan was a beloved idol, and even if she liked him back (which he thought she might have at some point) there was no way she could be with him.  He knew, but it doesn't mean it hurt any less.  There were years of carefully collected merch, thousands of dollars being stuffed into trash bags to be thrown away.  But instead of the despair he carefully denied for years, he didn’t feel any loss throwing away all the autographed posters and pictures.  No, he had something much better now, someone who could actually be with him in this wretched, boring world.  He had his wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful, perfect in every way girlfriend.  And while you weren’t aware that you were destined to be with him yet, he would make sure you’d know soon.  As soon as he finished purging his space of Takada-chan (it wouldn’t do to have pictures of an old flame) he’d confess.  

A few days later he was tying up the last trash bag, ready to enact his plan.  He asked you to meet him under the largest tree in the forest on the edge of the training field.  Several hypothetical scenarios floated through his mind, and he focused on the one where you’d enthusiastically said you loved him back and then he married you and had many children.  As he neared the confession site, Todo felt yet another arrow go through his heart as you came into view.  I’ll never get tired of seeing her.

“Todo, is everything okay?  What’s up?”  A shiver ran down Todo’s spine, goosebumps rising.  God, even your voice was perfect.

“I love you.  Promise me, y/n.  That we’ll spend the rest of our lives together.”  He got down on one knee like a proposal, looking up at you like a devout follower.

“Todo… I don’t know about the rest of our lives but why don’t we start with a date?  I like you too.”  While you were a bit taken aback by his forwardness, you brush it off as Todo being Todo.  You never disliked his honesty and unabashedness.

“My girlfriend!! I knew you felt the same!”  A single tear ran down Todo’s face.   

Back to the dorms, it wasn’t long before everyone found out and congregated at your room to badger you with questions.  

“Ugh that gorilla?  You guys are dating now?”  Nishimiya asked, firmly believing Todo to be an improper and inadequate boyfriend.  

“I thought he only had eyes for that idol Takado or whatever,” Miwa chimes.

“It’s Takada,” Mai corrects, not able to make eye contact with Nishimiya’s suspicious glance in her direction. 

“We’re dating now!  He just asked me out, and he’s really good to me.” you reply, thinking of how Todo insisted on carrying you back to the dorms, gently setting you down before running off saying he needed to ‘prepare’.  

“You can do way better than Todo, trust us.” The girls all nod in agreement.  However, Todo is outside your room balancing a tray of perfectly cooked lunch and a cold pitcher of water.  

“What are you guys talking about?”  he knows already, but wants to hear them say it to his face.  

“How y/n is too good for the likes of you.”  Mai minces no words for Todo.  With the uncomfortable tension rising, the Kyoto girls hastily make an exit.  

“My love, I made lunch for us.  I know I am not handsome, or come from wealth and a good sorcerer family like some of our classmates.  But I will be devoted.  I will never stray from you, I’d die if you asked me to.”  he says, as he sets the meal on your small desk, pulling out utensils and napkins.  His normal confidence seems to waver a bit, and it seems that not even Todo is immune to worrying about what other people think of him.  

“Todo, don’t worry about what they say and please don’t say you’ll die for me.  I like you a lot, I wouldn’t have accepted your confession if I didn’t.  I also think you’re quite handsome.”  

“You love me back?”  he whispers, kneeling at the edge of your bed, looking up at you.  While it’s a bit too early to tell, Todo’s hopeful, reverent look has you obliging him. 

“I do love you back.”  He embraces you, and you can hear his heartbeat in his bare chest.  It feels good to be loved so wholeheartedly, and you’ll give him all the love you have to repay him.  

[returnofeternity]

one of the top five nat writers of our generation fr — would you be willing to write a continuation of that blurb about reader finding her in the meeting place? navigating camp with the new gunwielding queen, winter’s oncoming sting, etc? the more hurt/comfort + undying devotion to protect one and other the better

biggest compliment ever thank you :D i feel like i should wait til the finale tomorrow but im so excited and i know im gonna write something either way so. sorry if it's too short im sure my post-finale thoughts will be longer ^^

· · 𖦹 · ·

leaving off from the last blurb, thinking about staying there almost all night, at least until you can because the snow starts getting really cold, and feeling that hope bubble back after finding out misty has the transponder.

you almost start crying again when misty tells you that it could work, that she could signal for help. both you and nat are kneeling by misty, intently watching as she tinkers with it. holding nat's hand while whispering to her about how that dream of taking her to your cousin's record shop that was supposed to open up after nationals could be reality :(

walking back silently after nat decides it's too risky to stay out late, just rubbing her thumb on yours to calm yourself down because you still have to deal with shauna. and god, winter. all you can think about is how there's bound to be another hunt and how there's a chance nat could get picked, how there's a chance you could get picked. just as you see the faint sparks of a fire back at camp, you pull nat to the side and grab the sides of her arms.

"it's a horrible idea because we have shauna to deal with, but what if we run away?" you shake your head as nat opens her mouth, ready to object because yes, it is a horrible idea, but you can't stomach the thought of going through another hunt. "ben survived. what if we could? we-we could gather as many supplies as we can, hide them somewhere until we have what we need."

nat clenches her jaw, thinking the same thing as you. about how she doesn't want to go through another hunt. but it's too risky to run away with shauna as the new so-called leader. knowing her luck, she'd catch you and make things even worse. she doesn't even want to think about what shauna would make her do to you.

"we can't." nat's lip quivers at your crestfallen expression. she picks up your hanging head with her hands, her thumb rubbing your bottom lip. "you know we can't. let's just wait until tomorrow to do anything. we still have misty and the transponder. we have hope."

and she knows just how to make things better, even just for a second.

just thinking of that immediate dread you get in your stomach when you wake up to the ground being covered in snow. god. angst if nat wakes up first, the screams of shauna when she found jackie in her mind when she opens her eyes and looks at you :( her breath catches in her throat as she analyzes your body, heart sinking when she doesn't see any movement. just as she raises her hand to shake you, you roll over to face her, and she just lets out the biggest breath, tears in her eyes as she looks at you.

dressing her in winter clothes that you still have stored from last winter, the only plus of all this is seeing her in that headband again and her cheeks being all squished up as you make sure she's all covered up.

the two of you making eye contact with hannah as she comes out of shauna's hut, feeling betrayal and sadness. you wanna know why she did it. kodi didn't seem too bad. maybe a fuckin' jerk, but he could've gotten you out of here. you wanna run up to her and ask why, shake her repeatedly and tell her that she ruined everything, that shauna will turn her back on her as soon as she deems it fit.

god, and with tai and van rigging the whole card pull, thinking about two scenarios. one where they rig it so hannah gets it, but nat, who is so fucking kind, switches clothes with her midhunt. of course you're right there next to her as she runs after hannah, the girls' screams not far behind, telling her that this is a stupid idea, that she should just let hannah die because the wilderness chose, even if you don't believe in that shit. you just want your girlfriend safe. you want her alive. it was horrible enough after the last card pull. maybe you get caught in the crossfire when the girls pull up on 'hannah,' all your devotion for nat and the adrenaline you feel as they corner her making you get in front of her as someone goes to strike their spear in her chest, only, it goes through your chest, not nat's.

the second scenario, sorry to say, you still end up dying. maybe you were in on the whole rigging and begged van to make it so you and nat don't get picked. she could understand, right? she has taissa, and you have nat. she agrees, but maybe something, the wilderness maybe, didn't like this idea. or maybe van betrayed you because she was scared of Something retaliating against her for rigging it. you miss the pitiful look she gives you as you pull your card, the only thing on your mind being nat's safety. you smile and sigh the biggest sigh when nat shows her card and it's an ace. she feels her whole world crumble when you show yours and it's the queen. maybe something even angstier where you don't want a hunt, you want nat to be the one to kill you, even if it kills her to do it. the second shauna objects, because she wants a fucking hunt, nat steps up after telling you no. she'd rather do that than have shauna be the one to get you instead.

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 4- Forced Proximity

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: medical stuff, use of weapons, cannon typical violence, death.

AN: 2 parts in under 24 hours? I have to focus on my main projects I can't focus with this part sitting in my drafts.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

“You’re really going to make me go into Al Qatala territory with nothing?” You ask as Ghost prepares his weapon. 

“What do you mean you’re going in with the best of us.” Soap says winking at you. You frown at him looking back over at Ghost. 

“Just give me my pistol back. What? You think I'm going to shoot him?” You scoff. There’s silence in the room, you look around. Yes, yes they do think that. You sigh, zipping your jacket up and going over to the door. 

You wait in silence as Ghost comes to stand next to you. He’s dressed in full gear and you’re in basic clothes, not even anything camouflaged. 

“Here.” Gaz comes over to you handing you a radio and an earpiece. You frown at him. 

“I don’t know how to use this.” You say. 

“You’ll figure it out.” He says walking back over to the sofa with Price who’s been watching you the whole time. You clip the radio onto your belt and put the earpiece in fiddling with what you think is the volume tuner. 

“Ready?” Ghost asks. You look up at him and nod. “How far is this place again?” 

“A few kilometres east.” You respond. He reaches over, handing you a knife hilt first. You almost want to laugh at him. 

“Can’t do much with a knife.” You say, it’s spitfull, you want your gun back. You take the knife regardless.

“You can do alot with a knife.” He says and reaches down opening the door and walking out into the night. 

“Good luck.” Price calls. You look back at him and nod. 

You tuck the knife into your belt and follow Ghost into the darkness. 

…

“How did you know about this place?” Ghost asks as you make it to the entrance of the town.

“It was taken over by Al Qatala about a year ago. Been pretty much abandoned since then.” You say, the wind has picked up and you can see thick clouds in the sky blocking out the light from the moon.

“The ULF don’t come this far north, it’s a good way point for smugglers.” You say. You’ve passed through here many times. 

“You really seem to hate the ULF.” He says as a matter of fact.

“They’re both as bad as each other. If anything Konni have been the best, at least for work.” 

“Doesn’t bother you, they're helping terrorists.” He says, there's a bitterness in his voice. 

“The ULF killed my father in a hospital.” You say, anger rises in you. “I never got to say goodbye, I never got to see his body.” 

“You said your mum worked for them.” 

“She did, she was killed by Al Qatala, she was working for Farah.” You say, he doesn’t say anything. You make it to the top of the street. 

“Right.” You say pointing down the road. You walk down in silence, there are some streetlights working rigged up by whoever is using this town for now. 

“What about you? You’re British living a comfy life. What are you doing here?” You ask. 

“We’re after someone.” 

“In Al Qatala? It’s pretty clear you’re friendly with the queen bee.” He shakes his head.

“No.” He says stopping. You hum looking over at him. His eyes are darting around. You look into the darkness of the town, you can’t see or hear anything. 

“Ever killed anyone?” He asks suddenly and keeps walking. 

“Maybe.” You say trying to sound confident. “Why should it matter, you’re a soldier, you took an oath before you killed people. At least I’m doing it to keep innocent people alive.” 

“You smuggle people for Konni, Makarov.”

“I’ve smuggled people for the ULF too, like I said, I work for whoever pays.” He scoffs. You’re surprised, he usually seems so reserved. There’s a reason for the mask. 

“Proper opportunist aren't you?” You can hear the sarcasm in his voice. 

“Fuck you.” You snap, shaking your head. You go turn the corner ignoring his remarks. Suddenly he grabs your arm and pulls you between some buildings. 

“Get the fuck off-” he slams his hand over your mouth pulling you against his chest. You start to fight him then you hear voices. You stop struggling as they get closer.

“The place is empty, why are we back here?” You hear one of them say in arabic. 

“Khaled wants to take this place over. Use it to cut off the ULF movements.” Someone else replies. Does Ghost understand arabic? You assume he doesn’t. 

“I thought I would be home with my family before the end of the month.” 

“When was the last time you saw them?” The other asks as you watch them pass past you. 

“10 months ago.” 

“You’ll see them soon, mashallah.” They walk out your view, their lights fading, leaving you back in darkness. Ghost’s hand leaves your mouth, your heart is hammering in your chest. He lets you stand up, releasing his grip round you. You want to thank him, they would have killed you if they’d seen you. How did he even hear them coming?

“Let's move.” he whispers, pushing past you out towards the street. You follow him close as you walk out into the street, sticking close to the buildings and following the shadows. 

“Up there to the left.” You say pointing at a building ahead of you both. The place is surrounded by a chain link fence. The building looks more rundown than you remember.

“Round the back there's a smashed in door, I doubt it’s been repaired.” You say behind Ghost, still trying to keep your voice low. 

“Copy.” He says. You let him lead, following him close to the building. He pulls something off his vest cutting the links in the fence. He holds it open, nodding at you to sneak through. You go through first heading over to the door. It’s open, you can see from here. You just hope the place hasn’t been raided too hard. 

The place is dark, there are no lights, no electricity. Ghost comes in behind you clicking on a torch. He hands you another one, you take it out his hands turning it on and shining it over the signs. 

“Who taught you English?” He asks. 

“My parents said if I wanted to go anywhere in life I should learn English. I was brought up speaking both.” You keep the fact you can speak Russian silent. Don’t ask, don’t tell. The more advantages you have over them the better. 

“Here.” You say shining the torch over a room that says surgery. The room looks like it’s just been closed up for the night. Cupboards are still full of sterile supplies. That's good, you should be able to find everything you need.

“I’m going to check for other supplies. Are you good here?”  You look over at him nodding and pick up a bag off the counter, you watch him leave the doorway and head into another room down the hall.

You’re not going to be able to find drugs. Price could use local anaesthesia and antibiotics, you don’t even know where to start with human medicine, never mind dog medicine. You recognise tools though, sealed sterile gloves and tweezers, scalpels and plenty of different bandages and gauze. 

You turn in the room walking round the table and over to the other side looking for wraps, something you can use to make a somewhat sterile field. You try to remember what you’ve seen from interning at the hospital for the last few years. You smile as you fill the bag, your parents were right, in the end the education was useful. 

Suddenly you hear a crash, grunting. Someone's in the building. There's an audible grunt, the sound punches, scraping of furniture. There’s no gunfire, you rush over to the hallway following the noise. You can see lights flashing in a room, you burst through the door.

It’s hand to hand contact, they’re fighting on the floor, the stranger is on top of Ghost. You’re not thinking, if Ghost dies they’ll kill you. No matter what you say they’ll kill you. Your hand feels for the knife in your belt.

The man on top of Ghost looks bigger, he's not wearing any body armor, Ghost's weapon flung to the side. You don’t have time to think you take the knife off your waist and jump at the guy on Ghost, plunging it into the man's neck. Blood spurts out covering you all. There’s no noise, you hit the carotid. 

His body goes limp after a few seconds and you stand up. Ghost pushes the body off him. You reach out offering him your hand. He hesitates for a second before accepting it and you pull him up. 

“Hurry up, we need to go.” He says reaching down to pull the knife out his neck. He wipes it on his leg before handing it back to you.

“Fuck me, not even a thank you.” You scoff putting the knife back on your hip. You leave the room going back into the surgery. You pack the last of the gauze and whatever sterile supplies you can find. An opened scalpel falls on the floor making you jump. 

It still has the cover over the blade. You’ll have to give the knife back to Ghost but the scalpel, it’s small, no one would know you have it. 

“Let’s go.” Ghost calls sticking his head in the room before leaving back towards the back door. You look at the scalpel on the floor. 

If you take it and they find it they could kill you. If you leave it you have no way to defend yourself either way. You sigh looking over at the door. 

How easy it would be to betray them.

..

It’s raining when you make it back to the safe house. They’ve piled the bodies up in the shed. They probably won’t get any kind of funeral until Farah’s troops get here, even then if she learns who they are they’ll most likely be dumped somewhere. Or buried in a mass grave, not like the commander in Chief of the ULF has time for Russian Al Qatala operatives. 

“What happened!?” Soap asks, rushing up to Ghost. The rain washed most of the blood off you both, but not all. 

“Nothing. Just a slight complication.” You shake your head going over to the sofa and putting the bags down. Price looks up at you, you smile at him. 

“Can I get cleaned up?” You ask the room. 

“Yeah.” Price says. You walk over to Ghost being fussed over by Soap. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns to look at you. You hold the knife out for him. 

“Here.” You say. He takes it out of your hand but doesn’t say anything. You huff pressing your lips together, you didn’t expect anything. You turn to head up to the bathroom. 

“Thanks.” He calls. It stops you in your tracks. You turn back and nod at him. The scalpel you hid in your waistband suddenly feels like a lead weight. 

next

Banners by plum98

[sara-sushii]

“again? damn… i really have the worst luck… you sure this isn’t rigged, sir?” you croak out, your voice laced with disappointment.

you’ve been standing in this muggy, rundown train station for the past hour, playing ddakji with this oddly handsome man dressed in an all black and white suit. prior, you’d been waiting on your train, after a long day of exhausting work—you just wanted to finally rest, until this random approached you.

he smiles at your disdain, looking down at the mis-matched red and blue papers. he puts his hand out, expectantly waiting for your payment.

sighing, you reach back down to your wallet for what felt like the 100th time, only to be met with nothing left. you’re shocked—you closely inspect the wallet as if money was going to magically appear any time now. how was it that you’d already gambled your entire wallet?!

“sir, it seems like i’ve met the end of my payments… I apologize.” you speak, breaking the deafening silence. you hesitantly look back up at the man, as you notice his face light up with amusement.

his face begins contorting into a wide, dashing smile. he seems to be pleased at your answer, which confuses you. you haven’t been hit with the biggest shocker yet, because you can’t believe what comes out of his mouth next.

“well then, i suppose you may pay with your body…”

—————————

depending on how well/bad this does, i’ll consider finishing the drabble…!! until we meet again, reader 😚😚😚

[bcyhoods]

WITH FIREWORKS! STEVE

synopsis : after a date at the carnival, steve gives you your first kiss! (prompt: “was that your first kiss?”)

word count : 1.6k

author’s note : repost from my old blog! i fixed her up a little bit, endured changing past to present tense just for you so….

“Those games were totally rigged,” Steve huffs as he prods at the small teddy bear clutched in his hands.

You’re situated on the hood of his car, smiley lips tinged blue thanks to the half-eaten cone of cotton candy in your hands. Steve stands in between your legs with a pout as his free hand rests beside your thigh, finger itching to graze your skin as it taps the metal of his car. The summer sun has just dipped below the horizon, but his face is illuminated by the multicolored lights of the fair behind you. Even with a sullen attitude, he just looks so pretty.

It was only your third official date — excluding the weekly, hour-long visits to Family Video, which Robin made sure to tease him for — and Steve figured it was time to rattle his feathers, so to speak. He wanted to impress you by showing off his athleticism, and carnival games provided an exemplary opportunity to do just that.

He envisioned your arms full and occupied by the array of giant prizes he won for you. You’d watch with an endearing grin on your face every time he beat a game. The night would end with your arms thrown around his shoulders and the perfect kiss that had you both swooning.

With fireworks in the background, obviously.

But luck had strayed far away from Steve Harrington’s side. Far, far away.

“Oh, they were, were they?”

“Definitely. ‘You can only throw it with an underhand,’” Steve mocks the game attendant with a husky voice — a terrible impression, really, but he knew it’d make you laugh. “That’s a made up rule. For sure. I’ve never heard that rule before. Ridiculous.”

The boy sighs defeatedly, letting you take the bear from his hand before running his fingers through his, now disheveled hair. The brown locks had endured the torment throughout the night as he increasingly became more and more stressed. And he didn’t want to admit he was embarrassed, it felt entirely dramatic and silly. But he was, and the way he avoided your gaze while his teeth worried his bottom lip was enough of a tell.

He laughs meekly at himself and squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I was trying so hard to win one of those gigantic bears — too hard.”

You hum as your eyes scan over the stuffie. It was no bigger than the length of your hand. Its body was stiff and straight and a tuft of cotton spilled out from under its right arm due to a couple frayed stitches. The ribbon around its neck was barely being held together with a glob of hot glue.

“I like this one, it’s cute.” At his scoff, you double down, “I’m serious! It’s got a lot of charm to it. It’s perfect.”

You move your attention from the bear to Steve only to find that he’s already looking at you. His gaze is incredibly soft, smile lines decorating the corners of his lips as his tongue is coyly tucked into his cheek. His eyes are brimming with love, you think you might burst the longer they’re on you. He finally lets himself graze the skin of your thighs as a subtle thank you. The attention was all-consuming, it made it hard for you to focus. It was hard to do much of anything really, with him looking at you like that.

Quickly, you clear your throat and look up into the sky in abrupt thought. “I think I’m going to name him…Eve.”

“Eve? Eve the bear?”

“Mmhmm,” you affirm with the wave of the cotton candy, “Eve ‘The Bear’ Bearington.”

A huff resembling a short laugh leaves his mouth as he drops his chin down. Lowly, he mutters, “You’re unbelievable,” before looking up at you again with a doting grin. He moves to shake the bear’s hand gingerly, holding it between his thumb and his index, and bowing his head.

“Nice to meet you, Eve. You’re looking a little rough, bud. Bad hangover?”

You scoff and protectively pull Eve into your chest as if it were a child. The chuckle that reverberates through his chest encourages your heart to dither as heat rises to the tips of your ears. “That was very rude, Harrington,” you reply, feigning shock while trying to fight off the smile creeping onto your lips. It doesn’t work.

“What? No, Eve didn’t think it was rude. I’ve been there before, I’m sure he appreciates my empathy,” Steve argues, eyes momentarily flitting to the cotton candy that sat untouched in your hand for the past few minutes. As he nonchalantly stretches his hand out to pull a piece of the sweet, you move your arm out of his reach.

He glares at you with a tilt of his head. You raise your eyebrows to challenge him.

“Bullies don’t get sweets.”

A small gasp emanates from him before his lips are twisting into an impish lopsided smile. He tsk’s and takes a small step back. “Well, that’s too bad…because it just tastes so,” he looks away innocently, “…much,” he pauses.

”…Better!” He lunges forward earning a yelp from you as one arm wraps around your waist while the other moves to grab at the cotton candy. His fingers curl into your sides, eliciting a fit of laughs and giggles to fall clumsily from your sugar-coated tongue which makes it that much harder to fight against him.

Albeit, you don’t cease, pushing against his shoulder and still trying to stretch your arm as far away from him as possible. But it was no use as he slightly lifted you up off the car for just a moment to pull you flush against him. Your legs reflexively wrap around his hips and once you drop the bear, your unoccupied hand grips a handful of his polo for stability. The action had taken you by surprise, being too distracted to push him away when he ducks his head down to take a bite of the candy floss.

“Yup, just as I thought. Ten times better,” he preaches, letting it dissolve on his tongue to savor the flavor.

You’re sure you look a mess. Your eyes must be glazed over complimented by your lips still parted in shock. Your chest is rising and falling in a quick, inconsistent pattern as you try to collect yourself. Again, Steve has thrown your train of thought completely off course.

“You suck,” you manage to say. It was a lame attempt at an insult. But the words were practically dripping with adoration, all he could do was smile.

“Yeah?”

You nod meekly.

You’re certain he can feel your heart thumping wildly against your ribcage, certain that even through the background carnival noises and both your uneven breaths, he could hear it, as well.

And despite being so sure of your dumbfounded expression, Steve thought you looked so beautiful like this. In disarray, your sweater fell off your shoulders to hang loosely on your arms and your hand is holding his shirt so tightly like it was a lifeline. His eyes dart to your lips to trace over your cupid’s bow before glancing back up to find your eyes.

And you thought he looked just as pretty. His nearness was entirely disorienting. You could smell the saccharine hint of stolen cotton candy mingled with his ever-prized Calvin Klein cologne. His hair had fallen handsomely over his forehead. The moles and freckles scattered across his face are more fascinating than ever as you count them until you reach his lips. How soft and inviting they looked.

You’re so completely enamored, you don’t even register when he leans in, brushing his lips against your own in a feather-light kiss. Your breath hitches in your throat and before you can even bring yourself back down to earth, he begins to pull away.

“Sorry, I thought…”

He moves to step away from you, but your legs tighten around him to keep him in place as your fingers wrap around the wrist on your waist.

“No! I’m sorry, I…it was nice, it’s just I haven’t…I mean, I’ve never…” You swallow down a lump in your throat as you feel your eyes start to water.

The second you glance up to gauge his reaction, you regret it. You watch his eyes widen in realization and feel his grip on your waist go slack. Hiding your face behind clammy hands, you groan and drop your head to his shoulder. Your entire body felt like it was on fire and you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

“Was that your first kiss?”

You nod timidly, dragging your hands down to your lap to wring out your fingers, your gaze immediately following. And Steve is not malicious, he’d never laugh at you, but you feel just a little mortified that you froze up.

“Hey,” he cooed, delicately cupping your cheek and lifting your head. “It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed.” The words are hushed and soft, a sweet reassurance that causes your insides to melt.

“Was it…was it good?” he asks.

The question makes you giggle, “I dunno, I didn’t really get a chance to return the favor.”

He nods, the beginnings of a wide smile slowly making its way onto his blushing face. “Right…do you maybe, wanna try again?”

You mirror his expression before you’re the one leaning in this time, a kiss that he reciprocates feverishly. His lips slot against your own as his arm tightens around your waist once more. Your fingers dip into hair and he hums against you at the feeling before pulling away.

You giggle at the dazed look on his face and his kiss-bitten lips.

“How was that one?” he asks, eyes shamelessly journeying over your face.

“It was perfect.”

[ssaalexblake]

It's really frustrating when people mix their allegories and treat squid game like it's criticizing the same thing that the hunger games is, because it's not aiming for the same societal issue.

While thg is critiquing western society (specifically american) and asking readers to acknowledge that They are the capitol no matter how much personal power or wealth they do or don't hold, Squid Game is actually shooting for something else.

Squid Game is not telling you you're a VIP. You're nothing like the VIP's. "Isn't it funny that us watching this show are just like the VIP's???" Well, no, because unless you happen to be reading this post while also being a billionaire, you are supposed to understand that you are Not a VIP, you are one of their toys.

The vast range of people who ended up victimised by this entire twisted organisation are meant to say to the viewers that yeah! this is You! This could be you! Gi-Hun had a string of bad luck, some police brutality, trauma, and ultimately a gambling addiction and it ended up with him ending up on their radar. Sang-Woo seemed to have it allll going for him and he very much represents the educated and seemingly wealthy (but not super rich) demographic and shows you that They are not immune to this either. Ali was in trouble and ended up there because of systematic racism. Sae-Byeok needed money to bring her mother to safety as she had no choice but to use human traffickers to do so. Some people have made bad investments. Others need to pay for medical care.

My point is, there's no mould for the average contestant because it's literally just anybody who's had some bad luck, and that is something that nobody is immune to. Hell, Guem-Ja by all accounts didn't even have any bad luck, she's literally there to help her son out! Jun-Hee needs money as a young mother, society isn't going to help her, that's not how capitalism works.

This organisation preys on anyone and everyone.

They expand on this even further in S2 to give us an eye into the world of the guards through No-Eul and the salesman. Both of them were headhunted when they had nothing as well. While neither of them were said to be in debt, they still needed work. It's as simple as that. It's as simple as No-Eul also working at the theme park as an actor, she's just poor and needs the money to survive. These 'kids' they keep unmasking in the games are just the same as a kid working in fast food their first job. They need work and this is what's available.

Of course, there's an amount of brutality there too, but clearly the people who try and find contestants and employees do their research into who to put where. Guards seem to be poor but not in debt. They also need to be capable of at Least disposing of hundreds of bodies (the salesman says that the crematorium is the bottom level job, it looks like they desensitize the people to death and Then give them guns to actively kill. No-Eul who had already killed people and was a good shot to boot probably got to skip the entry level part of the job).

I'm glad they went into who the guards are because it really still highlights that the rich use the poor for entertainment, and they use the poor to police those other poor people, and if the poor revolt the people dying are Still poor people. The VIP's still aren't dying or paying for any of this. The system is entirely rigged.

Which leads me back around to this; You are not like a VIP for watching squid game, and the show is trying to tell you the opposite of this.

The show is telling you that You are one of the pawns in the rich people's games and that no matter what happens in this system, no matter if you're unlucky and in debt or if you're just a low class young adult getting paid to be a guard in (to use an extreme understatement) a very morally ambiguous job, it's still Always the poor people being hurt because the people in with the money and power are not facing consequences for this at all.

I actually think one of the revelations in S3 for the characters will be that In-Ho actually doesn't have any power to effect change at all. I mean, he's in charge, but I kind of think he's at most the equivalent of the manager of an insanely upmarket hotel that caters to the super rich like those vegas casinos. The rich people may talk to these managers cordially, but in the end he's still just an employee and nothing more.

Gi-Hun and co (whoever that will be by the time it happens) will find him and discover that their plan to capture him to get answers will be effectively useless because they've Still not aimed high enough.

To kill this system you need to cut the head off the snake(s). Those are the billionaire VIP's.

I'm not sure that Gi-Hun even knows they exist.

But yes. THG is telling you that you are the capitol. Squid Game is telling you that you are a toy for the rich and you are not and never will be one of the VIP's (even if you 'win' at capitalism AKA the games you're still just a middle manager or still cheap entertainment to them). You are one of the contestants, actually. Or maybe a guard. But not a VIP. Both of these messages can exist in harmony, actually, but they're not the same. And you're certainly not like a VIP because you turned on a fictional TV show specifically about anti-capitalism.

Except of course the muskrat who I believe said he watched this back when S1 came out. He's literally a VIP. This rebuttal of viewers being like the VIP's specifically excludes him.

[coriihanniee]

Guess WHO! - boynextdoor smau

𓂃۶ৎ SYNOPSIS : When multiple leaked photos ignite a wildfire of speculation, the world is certain—BOYNEXTDOOR'S Y/N is secretly dating one of the members. But who? No one knows, and you refuse to clear the air. Instead, you turn the chaos into a game, scattering cryptic clues and half-truths while every member plays along, deepening the mystery. Every glance, every post, every moment is a riddle waiting to be solved. Is the answer hidden in plain sight, or are you leading everyone in circles? How far can a secret stretch before it unravels? And when it does—will anyone be ready for the truth?

CHAPTER 17 : rainy situation

"You know, I’m starting to think you rig these bets," Taesan grumbles, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

"You’re just mad because you have bad luck," you retort, shooting him a smug grin. "And honestly? It’s hilarious."

You’re walking back after a long day of filming—the scavenger hunt predictably chaotic. From tripping over random props to getting chased by a very aggressive duck, the day had been one long reel of your personal entertainment at Taesan’s expense.

"You owe me, like, five coffee runs for this," Taesan continues, kicking a pebble along the path. "I lost my dignity and half my sanity."

"I’m keeping track," you say sweetly, tapping your phone screen like you’re really writing it down.

The park is quieter now, most of the staff already gone. The sky overhead is turning an ominous shade of gray, but you barely notice—too busy laughing at the memory of Taesan’s failed attempt to complete a challenge involving rubber chickens and a balance board.

"You were really bad at that," you tease.

"Bold talk from someone who face-planted into a bush," he fires back, shooting you a sideways glance.

"You pushed me!"

"It was a motivational nudge," Taesan corrects, like that makes it better.

A sudden coolness brushes against your cheek. One drop. Then another.

"Uh…" You slow your pace, looking up just as the drizzle thickens into a steady rain. "Did you—?"

"No, I didn’t check the weather," Taesan cuts in, already sounding exasperated.

"You are literally the worst," you groan, tugging your hoodie up. "You’re supposed to be the responsible one."

"Me? Since when?" He snorts. "I thought that was Sungho’s whole thing."

The rain comes down harder, soaking through your clothes as the temperature drops.

"You seriously didn’t bring an umbrella?" you ask, glaring at him like this is somehow his fault.

"Do I look like a walking weather app?"

"You look like someone who’d lose a fight with a traffic cone."

"Bold words for someone who tripped over a plastic duck today," he shoots back, unimpressed.

Without a word, Taesan shrugs off his oversized jacket and throws it over both your heads like a makeshift umbrella.

"What are you—?"

"Saving your ungrateful ass from pneumonia," he says, deadpan, adjusting the jacket so it covers you better.

The scent of his cologne—clean and faintly sweet—fills the space between you, mingling with the rain. It’s warm under the fabric, even as water drips from his hair and onto his neck.

"You’re gonna freeze," you point out, side-eyeing his now-soaked t-shirt.

"I’m built different," he says, deadpan.

"You’re built stupid," you mutter, but you don’t move away.

The rain falls harder, but under the jacket, it’s at least a little less miserable. Your shoes squelch against the pavement as you walk, the park feeling unusually quiet without the usual chaos.

"You know," you muse, "the fans would lose their minds if they saw this."

Taesan snorts. "Please, they already think Leehan's my life partner. This wouldn’t even crack the top ten weird things I’ve done."

You laugh. "Yeah, fair. You guys do give off ‘married couple’ energy sometimes."

He pretends to shudder. "Don’t put that image in my head."

"You started it."

"You’re impossible," he grumbles, but there’s no real bite to it.

A gust of wind tugs at the jacket, and Taesan shifts closer to keep it from slipping. For a second, his hand brushes yours—warm and steady—but you shove your hands into your hoodie pocket like it never happened.

"You think ducks get cold when it rains?" you ask, because it’s better than acknowledging… whatever that was.

Taesan snorts, shaking his head. "I mean, I’d hope they’re better at handling it than us."

"Yeah, but still, they’re probably just running around thinking, ‘Why is this happening to me?’" You laugh softly, imagining it.

He lets out a small laugh. "Exactly. Poor ducks. No one ever thinks about their feelings."

You glance at him, the faintest of smiles tugging at your lips. "No one’s ever thought about ducks before. We should start a campaign. Ducks deserve more recognition."

Taesan looks at you, eyes glinting with amusement. "You’d be the one to do it. I’d support it, though."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Ducks have to start somewhere. You’d be surprised how far a little support can go."

By the time you reach the van, you’re both drenched—hair dripping, clothes clinging uncomfortably to your skin.

"You look like a wet dog," you say, shaking out your sleeves as you climb in.

"And you look like a drowned rat," he fires back, leaning against the headrest with a tired smile.

As the van pulls away, the rain blurs against the windows, turning the outside world into a soft, gray haze.

For a moment, you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye—head leaned back, eyes half-closed, the usual sharpness in his expression softened by exhaustion. Just Taesan, warm and close(and noisy...and annoying).

previous masterlist next

@coriihanniee 💌

taglist : @lvlyhiyyih @supi-wupi @tinyelfperson @heeheesang @molensworld @opheliaas-stuff @taesanfav @bbyinni @minfolio @mbella607 @cinnamonshuaa @defnotsanni @amarecerasus @enaile23 @nujeskz @janjoonty @imhereonlytoreadxoxo @pumpkg @cosmicwintr @mimimimiaa @hanniehq

[peetalive]

I constantly think about the details of Lucy Gray's song towards Billy Taupe. The line "You went to the dogs and I lived by my charms" is definitely up to interpretation (I think it's simply her alluding to being an above-board entertainer but that's a discussion for another day) but the 3rd verse really gets me. Specifically the lines;

"Well alright I'm bad but then you're no prize either. // Alright I'm bad but then that's nothing new."

This could simply be her referencing how she encouraged Billy Taupe to steal, but it's framed as a response to a direct accusation in my opinion. The verse before suggests it too, saying "Then one day you left saying I was no good". I think Billy Taupe felt manipulated by her when their luck started running out, so he turned away from the Covey in favour of more lawful company. It feels like a situation of him getting back at his loud, opinionated girlfriend by siding with the more powerful, secure people of District 12. We know that the Covey were outsiders of District 12 and that they only ended up there permanently because of how their cards were laid out. And then to punish her he helps rig the reaping against her, and we start to see a lot of parallels between him and Coriolanus. Both act as love interests who were initially drawn in by what Lucy Gray had to offer them. For Coriolanus it was control and a sense of supremacy, while for Billy Taupe it was security. And of course she provided them both with entertainment.

Lucy Gray's role as an entertainer, however, is ultimately what prevents both Coriolanus and Billy Taupe from being secure in their relationships. Through both of their songs she frames their love as being for what she provides instead of for her.

"So who will you turn to tomorrow, I wonder? // For when the bell rings, lover, you're on your own."

"Cold and clean, swirling over my skin, you cloak me. // You soak right in, down to my heart."

Even though the songs themselves are completely different, both highlight just how aware Lucy Gray is of the dynamics in their relationships. Having moved on from Billy Taupe she promptly realizes how Coriolanus is keen to sanitize her image and support her as long as her can profit from her actions. Then finally, because her song to Snow is a love song, we get to the punchline;

"It's why I need you – you're pure as the driven snow."

This line means a lot to me and I think it should mean a lot to you, too. Driven snow refers to any snow that has been carried by the wind without previously being frozen. Superficially, this is the purest snow, being the snow that lands on top with few contaminants (You know what I'm getting at here...). In my eyes though this refers to Coriolanus' precarious social status after the Games that drives him to District 12 as punishment. The line is borderline satirical, because how pure could Snow be if he has been pushed to the most disparaged region of the country? Surely not pure at all.

Snow's drive to be powerful impacts Lucy Gray's appearance because he refuses to present himself as an ally to anyone who contaminates the Capitol, even in the thick of people who vehemently oppose everything it stands for. Lucy Gray needs Snow to make her palatable, which he does readily as a self-assigned agent of the Capitol. Her willingness to be sanitized, at least publicly, makes her trustworthy to him in turn. It's only when their future plans are driven away from the Capitol, when she fantasizes about their life outside the system, that Snow realizes Lucy Gray is only an asset to him in the specific scenario of the Games. There she is molded as a reflection of his most desired qualities. Tenacious. Charismatic. Boundless. Without the power structures of the Capitol Snow is forced to acknowledge that Lucy Gray is what destabilizes his control. She is the wind that drives him away from the life he dreams of, sending him higher into the sky at times but ultimately towards the ground.

[forresttfirre]

— a game of chance (dick grayson x reader)

Summary: Luck is your thing, charm is Dick's. So it's not a surprise when you get paired together for an undercover mission at a casino. But it seems your luck isn't enough to cover two people, and his charm can only go so far. Warnings: fictional drugs (power enhancers), mentions of religion + something being sacrilege (it's very minimal), french because it's set in monaco (feel free to correct my french, most of it i wrote on a hope & prayer), pining & tension, dick gets hurt, reader gets hit on. Word Count: 2.4k — Notes: reader has the power to manipulate luck & is a member of the JL.

Casinos are nothing new to you. After you got a handle on your powers, you spent your down time in disguise, always dressing older than you were. You'd enter with a fake ID in between your fingers and a decent amount of money you'd exchange for chips. You always won, always knew when to fold or what to bet. Every casino you went to grew suspicious but with no actual evidence to prove you cheated, you always went home with your earnings.

When you enter the Casino de Monte Carlo, you can feel the different levels of luck that fill the area. A lot of bad luck stains certain areas. It's always the areas that the casinos rig to the high heavens.

The com in your ear crackles as it turns on. "No getting distracted. Focus on the mission." A teasing smile grows on your face. You glance at Dick when you speak, trying to cover up who you're actually talking to. "I'll be focused in a minute or two, darling." You can hear how Batman bristles at the pet name through his little hn. Dick just smiles and laughs, his cheeks a little rosy.

He's got on a pair of thick, black glasses that obscure the features that make him recognizable as Dick Grayson. You never would've thought they'd actually work.

Everything else about him feels normal: his jawline is still sharp, his hair is still perfectly styled, and even his suit is a deep Nightwing blue.

"I need a drink." Before you can move, his hand is on the small of your back guiding you over to the bar near the middle of the room. Strings of crystals hang down alongside the exterior of the bar, extravagant mirrors decorate the walls behind.

The bartender gives you both a judging look as you sit at the bar. You position yourself with your back to the side of the building Dick can visibly see, and vice versa. Dick orders two drinks in practiced French as you scan the room for anything suspicious.

From the intel Batman was able to gather, illegal dealings of power enhancers have been going on in the backrooms of the casino. You've stumbled upon the drug before, during your nights as a vigilante. They'll be concealed well, but once you uncover one, all the other stashes will be easy to find. They can hide them in jars or water bottles, but they can never get rid of the shimmer the drug holds, even if it's not bright blue like the first formula.

The meta power enhancers are illegal around the world and are not meant to be sold or even made in the first place. But people always try to be sneaky.

Batman was able to discover that the dealers here aren't trying to hide that they're selling; it's the electric blue formula you're used to, stashed in small, clear tubes. Apparently, they're also not even trying to hide where they're doing their dealings.

A man guards a door a couple feet away from the bar, burly and muscular, wearing a suit and dark sunglasses like he's a caricature of a bodyguard. Though he does wear a blue beaded bracelet — the group's signature.

Your lips curve into a sultry smile and you lean toward Dick, lips almost brushing against his ear as you whisper, "Behind you, to your right." As you pull away Dick raises an eyebrow, his tone faux teasing as he says, "Oh, really?" You roll your eyes and pick up the drink you haven't touched. When you take a fake sip, Dick locates the door via one of the mirrors and you mentally remind yourself of the 'secret password' to enter the hidden room.

Sacrement, because apparently the people who take the enhancer treat it like it's holy — as if an addiction to power is anything but sacrilegious. You repeat it in your head with a heavy French accent to take your mind off the deeper meaning. Might as well try to enjoy the mission just a tad.

"The bartender looks antsy. Max amount of time before he approaches is approximately five minutes." You can barely contain your snort at Batman's formal tone. Dick leaves his barstool smoothly, extending a hand to you when he's got his feet on the ground. "Shall we?" He asks with a blinding smile. A little laugh leaves your lips, and you take another fake sip of your drink to ignore the warm feeling in your stomach.

You place your hand in his and step down from your barstool. Dick puts more strength toward his arm then he needs to, as if you'll stumble and fall from the chair. He probably just doesn't want to abort the mission just because you happen to roll your ankle.

You both put on a graceful walk, trying to exude the wealth needed to gain some respect here. As you approach the guard, you bend luck in your favor. Though you can't see it change — you never have — you can tell it's worked with the way the air around you feels. Like it's lighter.

When you stop in front of the guard, you can barely get the 'secret word' out of your mouth before he's allowing you both in. Dick looks at you a little shocked, like he knows what you've done but not how you've done it. "Merci, monsieur," you say to the guard with a kind smile, and he nods stiffly before closing the door behind you both.

"Mind if we join?" Dick places his hand on an empty chair, causing the men in a game of poker look up. They all wear the signature blue beaded bracelet, but the oldest at the table wears a bracelet of smooth, clear crystal beads. The boss.

He gestures toward the two empty chairs. His voice is gruff as he speaks, "Asseyez-vous." You both comply, sitting down at the table and accepting the cards you're dealt. "Steer away from the cards if you can. We want to get this over with before more guests join." Dick shoots you a look, making you sure you heard Batman's orders. You give him a subtle nod while placing your cards on the table.

"We're not just here for cards, you know," Dick comments as one of the boss' men adds a few chips in to the betting pile. The boss seems surprised at how forward he is. "Ah, j'sais. J'sais," He waves it off, raising the bet just as casually.

"How much for one unit?" Dick inquires as he matches the bet. The boss laughs as he points a finger at him. "You are nosy, aren't you? You did not get your information before coming here, huh?"

"Are you a meta, monsieur?" He continues. Dick straightens at the question — looking visibly unprepared. "Il ne l'est pas, monsieur. Mais, moi si." You catch the boss' eye as you throw your chips in to match the bet. His grin grows, showing yellowed teeth and age lines.

You hold his gaze as his eyes scan you, like he'll see your power through your body language. Beside you, Dick's jaw clenches, feeling uncomfortable for you. He places a hand on your thigh as if he's saying I'm here for you. The placement isn't anything scandalous, but the table hides most of his arm, leaving room for curious eyes.

"Careful." You'd like to be able to tell Batman to shut up. You know what you're doing. So does Dick. "Are you an enchantress, mademoiselle?" You force a flattered look and a soft laugh.

"I wish— Do your exchanges always include flirting with your clients, monsieur?" Dick cuts you off with a bitter tone that leaves you stunned. The boss and his men laugh as Batman's voice sounds through both of your coms. "Fallback, Nightwing. Focus on the mission."

"Ah, I guess we will start the exchange then." He stands from the table, placing his hands against it to help him up. His men stand along with him, revealing the guns holstered on their belts. Both of you notice them immediately. "Ici."

One of the men pulls a black cloth off a non-descript object revealing a set of crates. Very original.

The boss grabs one of the small tubes from a top crate, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger. He holds it up near the bulb on the ceiling, showing the glimmer that the power enhancers always hold. "It's high quality. You will enjoy it, chérie." You hold out your hand as he walks back over to you, and he places the tube on your palm. When you close your fingers around it, the tube is ice cold, but you can feel the power within it.

Dick gives you a worried look before speaking. "How much do we have to pay? You never said." His words are stilted, like he's trying to bury his emotions and focus on the task at hand. He's not doing the best job. "Don't worry, you'll get a discount. It's not often we get a pretty face in this room." He and his men laugh again as Dick lets his anger show through clenched fists and a small twitch in his jaw.

"Listen, man—," Dick takes a step forward, hand extended just as a gesture, nothing more. Yet all the men pull out their guns and point them at him. Everything goes silent, and you use the moment to bend the luck in the room. The air doesn't feel as light as it used to be.

"Listen? Ah, funny. You want me to listen, yet you don't let me speak."

"It's alright. I don't need to speak either." Dick shrugs off his suit jacket and drops it against a nearby chair, then swiftly undoes the buttons on his wrists to make his movements easier as he punches the boss. You place the tube on the table before joining the action. As Dick fights the boss (he's down in a few hits) and his right-hand man, you focus on the others.

You grab one trying to get to Dick by the shoulders and send him into the table, crushing it under his weight. There's two others; one charging at you and the other is busy turning off the safety on his gun.

He stumbles after the first punch then blindly throws a punch toward you. Because he misses you completely, it makes it easier for you to push him on the ground next to his friend. As he collapses against the ruins of the table, a gunshot pierces through the room.

You turn around in a hurry and are met with the sight of Dick holding his side, where blood is starting to seep through his white shirt, while his other hand quickly disarms his assailant. When the gun clatters to the ground, you grab it, backing him into a corner. Your eyes frantically scan the room around you for something to tie him up with, when Dick walks by you, undoing his tie.

You snatch the tie from him, sending him a glare that says what are you doing. "Go grab a few tubes and put them in my bag. And maybe grab one of their shirts or something to help stop the bleeding?" You give him a sarcastic smile that makes him cringe like he's in trouble.

As he does what he's told, you tie up the guy's hand with Dick's tie, then gag him with another tie, courtesy of his now unconscious boss. Hurried footsteps begin to approach the door.

"Are you gonna be safe to leave?" All he does is nod before he pushes open a back door. A padlock falls from a lock and clangs against the ground. Guess that's where your luck went.

The suite the JL had rented has only one bed since you had to stick with your cover as a couple for your entire stay. So, once Dick was able to get stitched up, you gave him the bed. It was only fair.

After lots of arguing from him before he eventually relented.

Now, Dick sits awkwardly slumped on the bed while you lay on the couch, feet kicked up on the opposite arm rest. Every few seconds you glance up from your book to check on him. He's clearly antsy but unable to sleep, trying to distract himself with something on his phone.

"Dick?" He hums in acknowledgement. "You okay?" That gets him to look up from his phone, which reveals the exhausted look in his eye. Not just tired from the mission, but also his emotions.

"Yeah, it's...B's just a little annoyed about how the mission went. You know him." You freeze at that. Because you could agree, say that makes sense, but is that what he needs to hear right now? "Mm, well the mission, for him at least, was during the day. I'm sure he's just tired from missing his afternoon nap. Being a bat, and all." It's a bad attempt at a joke but it still gets a small huff of laughter from Dick. Worth it.

"You should get some sleep too." His head tips back toward the headboard, a bored look on his face. "I don't think sleep wants me right now."

You don't know what compels you to get up from the couch — your luck making its own decisions or how sometimes you don't want everything to be playful, and rather have it be real — but you make your way over to the bed, book in hand. Dick blinks at you in surprise as you sit down next to him cross-legged.

"Ever read The Great Gatsby?" That gets a little smile on his face. "Yeah, in 10th grade English, maybe."

"I'll give you a refresher then." You open the book back to where you stopped and clear your throat. As you start to read, your words trail off when Dick shifts closer to you. After a minute long staring contest, where both of you seem to have an internal war on what's happening, you begin to read. Next to you, Dick visibly relaxes.

As the sun starts to rise over the Monaco skyline, Dick falls asleep. He's closer to you now that his limbs are all loose.

It takes you longer to fall asleep — you swear you heard birds chirping right before your head hit the pillow — just because of the way your heart races because he's in proximity to you.

You wake up, your limbs are all tangled with your copy of The Great Gatsby bent between you. Neither of you acknowledge it beyond a few apologies, just like how you've treated every other accidental (or purposeful) display of affection.

Though you'd never bend your luck to win him over, you can only hope your natural, non-superpowered luck can take over.

i have so many other ideas for these two so i might make a collection of some sorts? let me know what you think! i had so much fun writing this so i'd love to do more! + also, maybe i'm overthinking this but i feel like the JL wouldn't do a lot of undercover missions? or at least the members of the batfamily, considering their civilian identities. ex: it's different for marvel characters because most of them have their identities public so there's not as much to lose, you know? anyway, even though i considered this i still wrote it 'cause i liked the idea :) (they've definitely done undercover missions i just don't know why some members would do that)

[girlkisser13]

tyche cabin headcanons

children of tyche

• when they enter a room, either things immediately start going well, or utter chaos unfolds. there is no in-between.

• they have an almost supernatural level of confidence, always believing things will turn out in their favor. and, annoyingly, they’re usually right.

• with focus, they can nudge the odds in their favor— like ensuring a sword lands the perfect strike or a trap malfunctions at just the right moment.

• they’re the type to go all in during a poker game, even if they have a terrible hand, because somehow, they always pull through.

• their mere presence can make things feel more lively—or more chaotic. they often act first and think later.

• some fully embrace lucky charms, rituals, and omens, while others scoff at them because they believe luck is always on their side.

• coincidences happen around them ALL the time.

• they might trip and accidentally take out an enemy, dodge an attack at the perfect moment, or land a near-impossible hit just when needed.

• some of them genuinely decide important things by flipping a coin or rolling dice. it’s less about indecisiveness and more about trusting fate.

• they often show up where they’re needed most, even if they didn’t plan to be there.

• chiron has prohibited them from betting on chariot races, capture the flag outcomes, or anything that involves gambling with other campers.

• they don’t rely on brute force; they let fate guide their attacks and often fight unpredictably, making them hard to counter.

• if their luck turns sour, it really turns sour. think sudden downpours, tripping at the worst moment, or getting a nosebleed mid-fight.

• their friends joke that walking with them guarantees a good day, while their enemies learn that messing with them leads to an absurd streak of bad luck.

• either they completely wing a test and somehow ace it, or they forget about it entirely and just hope for divine intervention.

• they’re the type to enter a raffle once and win, or be the exact 1,000,000th customer at a store and get free food for life.

• these are some common phrases that you might hear from a child of luck: "oh, i found twenty drachmas on the ground." "oh, my sword landed the perfect hit without me trying." "oh, my enemy tripped and knocked themselves out."

• campers constantly inspect their dice and decks when playing games with them, convinced that something has to be rigged. (it isn’t. They’re just that lucky.)

• they’re the ones who somehow hit a bullseye while blindfolded, or throw a sword across the battlefield and hit the one weak spot on a monster.

• some like to collect "unlucky" items like broken mirrors and black cat figurines— because bad luck doesn’t really stick to them.

• they either get caught instantly or miraculously steal the flag without trying.

• one time, a child of luck got lost and accidentally stumbled into the enemy’s base while holding their own flag.

• somehow, they always have just the right amount of money for whatever they need— down to the last drachma.

cabin exterior

• the cabin’s shape shifts subtly depending on the angle you look at it— one moment, it appears sleek and elegant, the next, it looks slightly lopsided, as if fortune itself can’t decide.

• the door is an oversized roulette wheel that spins when touched, clicking to a stop before allowing campers to enter.

• occasionally, it lands on a "jackpot" symbol, triggering a harmless but flashy effect, like confetti or a burst of golden sparks.

• the windows are shaped like playing cards and dice, shifting patterns unpredictably.

• the roof is adorned with horseshoes, some right-side-up for good luck, others upside-down to keep things balanced. a weathervane shaped like a spinning coin never quite settles on heads or tails.

• a large golden statue of tyche stands in front, blindfolded and holding a set of dice in one hand and a cornucopia in the other. occasionally, it winks or shifts slightly when no one is looking.

• nearby, a small wishing well grants minor strokes of luck to those who toss in a drachma— though the results are always unpredictable.

cabin interior

• the room seems to change slightly each time you enter. sometimes, there are more beds than usual; other times, furniture appears in different places as if moved by an unseen force. no one is ever quite sure if they left something in the same spot they found it.

• each camper’s bunk is uniquely themed after different symbols of luck— one might have four-leaf clovers embroidered into the sheets, another may have pillowcases decorated with dice, and some even have a slot-machine headboard that occasionally dispenses a random treat (or a harmless prank).

• the beds themselves seem to have a mind of their own— sometimes incredibly comfortable, other times squeaky and uneven.

• in the center of the cabin, a large round table serves as the hub for games of chance— poker, dice, and other gambling-inspired activities.

• it’s enchanted so that no game ever plays the same way twice. a dartboard on the wall seems impossible to miss— until it isn’t.

• golden horseshoes hang at odd angles, and shelves are filled with an eclectic mix of lucky charms and cursed artifacts, their effects unpredictable.

• a massive coin flips itself at random intervals, seemingly deciding the overall "luck" of the cabin for the day.

• lockers are organized in a completely nonsensical manner— some opening normally, others requiring a secret knock, and a few that only unlock if you’re having a particularly lucky day. campers are used to "losing" things, only to find them in the most unexpected places.

cabin traditions

• every morning, campers flip a golden drachma to determine their luck for the day. heads = good luck, tails = bad luck, on its side = total chaos.

• they have a huge monthly game night with poker, blackjack, dice rolling, and harmless bets (no drachmas, just bragging rights).

• every week, campers draw a random challenge (like wearing mismatched shoes or speaking in rhymes) and must complete it— no backing out!

• they have something called a "lucky streak board". it tracks the wildest winning streaks and worst unlucky moments, from undefeated poker runs to tripping six times in a day.

• campers carry personal lucky charms all summer, then swap them at the end to “share the luck.”

• if someone has a streak of misfortune, the cabin throws salt over their shoulder and rolls a die to reset (or worsen) their luck.

• they like to spread good fortune by leaving lucky charms, harmless pranks, or "good luck" notes around camp.

divider by @kodaswrld

[zeroseuniverse]

Hear me outtt!!! Gamer/esport player! S/O with SVT since I'm a gamer also. I never found any reaction about this 🫠🫠

Seventeen w/ A gamer S/O

S.Coups – Proud but Slightly Competitive

He thinks it’s so cool that you’re a gamer and will brag about it to the members all the time. “Yeah, my S/O is actually insane at this game.” But the moment you beat him? He’s so salty. “Best out of three?” Suddenly, it’s a full tournament.

Jeonghan – Pretends to Be Clueless to Mess with You

He’ll sit next to you, watching you play, and ask the dumbest questions just to annoy you. “So if you die in the game, do you die in real life?” But when you actually try to explain the mechanics, he just smirks and somehow ends up winning against you in a match, despite acting clueless the whole time.

Joshua – Supportive but a Casual Gamer

He’s the type to admire how skilled you are but doesn’t game as intensely. He’ll play with you for fun, but if things get too serious, he’ll sit back and say, “I’ll just be moral support.” He’s always hyping you up, though—“That was so cool! You should stream.”

Jun – Gets Too Invested

If you introduce him to your favorite game, be prepared to lose him to it. He’ll be playing at 3 AM like, “One more round.” Suddenly, he’s sending you links to gaming gear and talking about upgrading your setup. You may have created a monster.

Hoshi – Loves It but Is Terrible

He really wants to play with you, but he’s just so bad. He’ll be screaming the entire time, pressing all the buttons at once, and celebrating when he does anything. “I MOVED! DID YOU SEE THAT?!” You love him, but you might need to carry him in every game.

Wonwoo – Your Perfect Gaming Partner

Finally, someone who can keep up with you. Wonwoo is the ideal co-op partner—he strategizes, plays for hours without tiring, and never gets frustrated. Late-night gaming sessions with him are peak relationship goals. If you play against each other, he’s competitive but incredibly chill about losing.

Woozi – Acts Like He Doesn’t Care but Secretly Loves It

He pretends gaming isn’t a big deal, but if he sees you too into it, he’ll start playing too—just to see what’s so interesting. And guess what? He ends up loving it. Now he’s playing late at night, fully immersed, while acting like he’s “just trying it out.”

DK – Your Biggest Cheerleader

He doesn’t care if you’re playing solo, co-op, or against him—he’s just SO EXCITED. He’ll sit beside you, gasping at every intense moment. “Omg, omg, you got this!” He might not be the best player, but he’s the best hype man.

Mingyu – The Overconfident Noob

He thinks he can beat you easily. “It’s just a game, how hard can it be?” Fast forward to five minutes later, and he’s getting destroyed. He’ll whine dramatically and claim you cheated. But don’t worry, he’ll tryhard until he actually beats you (and then he won’t stop talking about it).

The8 – The Silent but Deadly Type

He doesn’t say much while playing, but he’s crazy good. You thought you could teach him, but now he’s outplaying you effortlessly. You stare at him in shock, and he just shrugs. “Beginner’s luck.” Yeah, sure.

Seungkwan – The Rage Quitter

Gaming with him is pure entertainment. He gets SO into it but absolutely cannot handle losing. Expect dramatic reactions, screaming, and a possible controller throw. “THIS GAME IS RIGGED.” He’ll quit… only to be back five minutes later, claiming he’s “calmed down.”

Vernon – The Chill Gamer

He’s the most unbothered gamer ever. He wins? Cool. He loses? Also cool. You’re freaking out during an intense match, and he’s just like, “Relax, it’s not that serious.” But then he randomly destroys everyone while looking half-asleep.

Dino – The Excited Little Brother Energy

He treats gaming like a full-on performance. Every match is dramatic, and every win gets a full victory dance. “DID YOU SEE THAT? I’M AMAZING!” He lives for the competition, so expect 1v1 battles and challenges all the time.

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

Casino plot?! LET'S GOOOOOO

It's giving WOTFI 2023 (one of my fave wotfi's) so I respect the hustle :)

...wait, why isn't "SMG4:" in the title anymore? Team, why isn't it there? Team? TEAM?!

(the following is my live reaction:)

why is Mario's face so me rn like ???

Brothers, your honor

it's so realistic how siblings turn something so casual into a competition only bc there are stakes now, we love to see it (hey, it takes one to know one)

...oh. huh. "Why are you taking it so seriously? It's just 4 memeing." I know. It's just, uh.... [*flashback noises*]

[SMG4 Episode Concept #5 // X _ X ]

...we gotta go 🏃‍➡️ GET OUT GET OUT /ref

OH GOD THE TEAM KNOWS! THEY READ MY FIC! IS THIS WHAT I GET FOR WRITING A GOOP!4 TIMELINE?

no no, i'm joking. I'm sure it's just 4 live memeing, that's all. but hey uh Team, I wouldn't mind if you leak the script/storyboards to me. For research purposes ofc, and totally not to keep my sanity at bay or make it worse somehow

(at this point, chat, just shove me in the basement. just do it)

what if i start crying? then what?

is it really that easy to get me hooked? yeah probably. all you really gotta do is serve me (found) family and I'm in

LET'S GO GAMBLING ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

YEP, it really is giving Casino Paisano (ik it's not really, but still)

oh hey, 3! whatcha doing here?

g r a b

also 3, while it is incredibly wholesome of you to think of your son's education, you shouldn't be gambling (i seriously think he used all the cafe's income for this smh /affectionate)

now i'm just imagining Eggdog going to school and Three getting emotional, "That's my son right there, so smart and talented! Just like his dad :)" and shows off his PhD in psychology (written in crayon) to probably 4

actually, seeing 3 here, i was half-expecting him to be in his wotfi suit (listen, i ADORE those wotfi suits)

money money money

look at this dude:

:D

I wanna squish him like playdoh 💙

well, I mean, he's not wrong. it did work last time:

Applying a cheat in the rigged game cancels each other out, and leaves you with luck and chance

Truly a win-win. The more you know 💫

LET'S GO GAMBLING ᕕ( ᐕ )ᕗ

AYYY we got some cameos here in the background!! Let's see: Waluigi and Wario, Karen, Bob, Melony, and Kaizo! Good to see them again

I do love the idea of Bob and Melony being besties. honestly, personally hc that they're found siblings (and I will write them that way)

y'know it's really bad when 3, of all people, telling you that you're betting too much smh

welp time to fade away ✌️

HOLY SHIT MARIO IN LEGGY FORM

i honestly did not see that coming. i think it might be a one-time bit but who knows? the same was said with Leggy and here we are

oh hey it's Cube (the penguin). here to gamble too?

(sooooo cube, about the showgrounds map...)

hey! no snitching, Mario didn't even win!

LUIGI?! (why am I surprised? I shouldn't be)

...yeah that makes sense

KEANU REEVES?!

rules are rules, Mario. just bc you're his brother, it doesn't mean you get a free pass

final boss: connect 4

IT COMES BACK FULL CIRCLE BABYYYYY

damn he really is good, game over bro

YES I CAN, WATCH ME [*explodes into confetti*]

oh wait, give me a sec:

writer!ink: "And eventually, Luigi played so well that the next move Mario makes, Luigi would win regardless with another line of his chips he strategically prepared." producer!ink: "Wow, well, I bet it's going to be hard for Mario to turn this around." writer!ink: "Actually, it's going to be super easy, barely an inconvenience." producer!ink: "Oh really?" writer!ink: "We're just going to bring back the cheat tactic 3 brought up earlier."

producer!ink: "Oh, I guess it really was that easy." writer!ink: "Yeah, by throwing 3 under the bus. :)" producer!ink: "What?" writer!ink: "Anyway, Mario's going to pull that move from one of those Pixar animated shorts and switch the game up."

this could literally go so many ways with Luigi, i don't even know

OH, Mario won? well ig congrats(???)

"only in the SMG4 universe 😀👍" [*insert laugh track*]

at least he gets to have his hat back

hate to break it to you, Luigi, but ✨NOPE✨

LET'S GO GAMBLINGGGGG ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ  ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ ᕕ( ᐕ )ᕗ

HOLD UP, is that who I think it is?

ENHANCE.... YEP, Shadow, I knew you animated this part LOL

I mean, I already did based on Mario's expression but sneaking in a Waggy cameo here... I respect the hustle, dude. big fan of your AU 💙

Congrats to ggf0ur for your art being featured in the end credits🎉 *chess kiss*

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Such a good episode we got, just a silly casino adventure with a side of cheat tactics on the side. And hey, a main focus on Mario, Luigi, and 3! we love to see it :)

But one day, we'll get a girlies-centered episode (happy international women's day). screw it, i might write it!

Oh, the mystery of the title? What is up with that anyway? There has to be a reason why it's excluded this time. The most probable is that they forgot to add it in, pretty reasonable. But the speculation I had was that (starting from this year btw) it's a split of timelines and at least one of them should be considered canon. Ever since the No TV episode and the Team being lured into Mr Puzzles' trap, the titles haven't been the same. And who's to say we returned from the OG timeline? But that's crazy me saying this, I've been thinking of multiverse stuff lately. Another could be a fight of control over the channel. Who's to say? Like I said, it could be an honest mistake, but it'll be best if we keep an eye on that, ok?

[EDIT: well it turns out, the prefix is now added to the title. maybe the Team forgot to add it in lol. still, having it included in these recent episodes is still spooky, ooooooh *spooky hands*]

as to my earlier freakout about 4's meme and my fic, here's a post from my collab partner of the Goop!4 theory, funkii [link]. looks like I wasn't the only one :)

a legit photo of goop!4 enthusiasts talking about the theory:

we're not delusional, i swear /silly

I actually have a bit of hc for the end there with Luigi: I would like to think that Luigi did know that Mario cheat but he let Mario have this one. After all, all Mario would win is his hat (and life) back. Basically how one of your siblings got in trouble and you kinda have to lecture them but because you care for them, you let them off easy. Yeah, like that. Luigi is a good sport and forgiving, as seen from the beginning, he's just choosing not to say anything. But Luigi did hope that Mario learned his lesson... which Mario didn't. welp, sorry dude

moving on to 3, maybe don't gamble your cafe's income for your son's tuition. you got a cafe for that. save the gambling for another moment.

on that note, chat, gamble responsibly!

Anyway, Shadow, anything you want to say about that cameo? X

[*evil laugh >:)*] Oh my god, the reactions are priceless. [*chuckle, then clears throat*] Um, hi there, SMG4 Twitter! I just wanted to make a thing really quickly, seeing literally all of my feed blowing up after the Mario Gambles His Life video went up earlier. Um, I just wanted to make this clear right now: yes, I'm the one who slipped Waggy or the Team Killer Ink Leader, whichever you prefer to call her, into the ending of the video. That was me! [*chuckle*] I just wanted to admit that right now, but the other thing I also want to say is like, uh, please don't look too much into it! Again, Waggy being there was solely just a background thing, just a cameo I thought I could get away with. And wouldn't you know it, I did [>:)]. So, don't look too far into it, that was just a silly thing. I just wanted to say that. Even still, all of your reactions are priceless, as always. [*another evil laugh >:)*] That's all I wanted to say, so...

...well, i'm going to take it at face-value bc I know you're planning something big for your AU (please let the girlfriends have a happy ending) and it's understandable to be excited about it.

I would be evil-villain laughing at my plotting too.

And hey, a perfect example of a creative member adding a "signature" to their scenes.

But like I said for Anaidon's Shadow Man, any of the AU/villains people of the Team working on the side could very much be proposed to be canon in the show, as an idea. I'll keep an eye on it and yall choose what to believe.

Well, anyway that's all from me. I'll see you all next time and remember: numbers go first!

Wow, last episode resembled a lot of IGBP ,and now this one with a bit of wotfi 2023, that's fun.... wait........

[abraxo-official]

Traveling across the southwest when you’re a fallout fan is fucking funny

Researching every town you pass to see if it made its way into cannon

Why is there no fallout merch in Vegas?????

Wondering if the brotherhood or NCR owns each military base you see

There are missile silos under the ground but WHERE???

Reading up on fallout 1 and 2 lore because you’ve never played the games (time limits are scary)

Trying to remember fallout 3 and New Vegas lore because you’ve never really played the games (I don’t know how to connect my PS3 to my PS4 don’t sue me)

Thinking of all the fan fiction you once were going to write

Desperately trying to find empty containers to put Mojave sand in

Trying to fallout-ify the places you’re staying in and create lore for them that you’re going to forget in a day.

Really wanting to play the games but you only can watch play through and do fallout shelter

Oh and watch the series and cry over how good it is

What the fresco happens to the San Diego zoo in fallout? The amount of cool animals?? What does no one talk about this??

Way more weird plants. Like cactus that are carnivorous or shit.

The beaches!! The sea!! Why does far harbor get to be the only one that has weird fish animals

There are ligit lithium (& other toxic chemicals) filled lakes that exist and you want to drink from so you can become a ghoul

Mexican food would survive the apocalypse

So would the tiny abandoned airports

And in&outs.

Seriously, the amount of weird plants should be increased by an exponential amount

Large mutated birds. That grab you and drop you and eat your remains.

And a lot more weird geothermic activity

Random dirt roads that go on forever but end up nowhere (you have to find the secret entrance for a quest)

Horses would be so fucking awesome.

Avocado toast would be the currency

Or beer.

Or Illinois license plates

Glass bottle Cokes are everywhere and you keep buy them. And for what? For what??

Sand. I need it. In my mouth. Taste the desert. The blood. The fire within. The revenge. The apologies. Sorry kid. From where you’re knelling, this looks like a 14 karat run of bad luck. But the truth is, it was rigged from the start.

Bam

You wake up

Lobotomy.

Sand.

[wolveria]

What We Did on Felucia - Ch 12

Pairing: The Bad Batch x f!Reader

Story Tags: Smut, dubcon, slow burn, sex pollen, eventual polybatch

Chapter Summary:

“With you rigging the game? We’d be down to our skin while you’re still fully clothed.” “Would that be so unpleasant?”

AO3

(Chapter art by @binkyisonline)

You considered visiting the refresher again to clean up, but something you sensed nearby changed your mind: Hunter’s embarrassment and growing panic. But for some odd reason, his brothers weren’t reacting the same way, especially Wrecker. From him, you sensed amusement followed by laughter.

As soon as you entered the private room, you saw why; two women stood near the table, one brunette human and one lavender Twi’lek, both trying to get Hunter’s attention where he sat on the edge of the half-circle bench.

The human put a hand on the cushion above his head and leaned toward him.

“Come on, buy us a drink. None of your friends seem interested, and you’ve been quiet.”

The lavender Twi’lek giggled and said, “I think he’s shy,” and took a lock of his hair, twisting it in her fingers.

“I-I’m fine, really,” Hunter stammered, but the two crowded closer. The others continued to watch, all except Crosshair, who was absent. Wrecker grinned wide, but Echo actually looked like he might intervene, and Tech’s curious gaze had settled into a frown at seeing their leader frozen and speechless.

You adjusted the scarf further over your head and put on an unstable gait as you squeezed between the two women, a hazy smile on your face at their offended frowns.

“Oh, excuse me, that’s my seat.”

And you plopped yourself directly into Hunter’s lap.

The expressions on their faces would have been quite funny if you weren’t also worried about drawing undue attention, so when they continued to scowl, you slung an arm around Hunter’s neck and asked sweetly, “Who are your new friends?”

As soon as you sat in his lap, Hunter relaxed under you, one arm going around to support your back.

“They’re, uh… they’re…”

Clearly, he hadn’t paid attention to their names.

The brunette huffed.

“Magdaline and Tarafin. And we were just leaving.”

You stuck out your bottom lip in a pout and asked, “You don’t want to stay and drink with us?”

The lavender Twi’lek, who you guessed was Tarafin, considered the question, appraising you in an appreciative way, but her human companion sneered.

“No, thanks. The options here are… limited.” She looked over the rest of the Batch in what was clearly supposed to be a dismissive gesture.

She turned to leave, and Echo crossed his arms, unimpressed.

“Good luck out there. You’re gonna need it.”

The human gave him a scathing look, but the Twi’lek sent a silent look of apology before her friend dragged her out through the bead curtains.

“That was unfortunate,” Tech said as soon as they were gone.

“No kidding,” added Echo.

Wrecker said, “I thought it was funny!”

“It was not,” Tech answered.

You ignored them and turned to Hunter where you continued to sit sideways in his lap, not seeing any reason to move.

“Are you all right?”

He’d been embarrassed and awkward on the surface, but you’d felt the growing panic underneath, and that was very unlike him. But he looked like himself now, or a very relaxed version of himself, and he closed his eyes when you caressed your fingers through the ends of his hair.

“I am now.”

The longer you stroked his hair, the more you sensed his arousal, and like a chain reaction it sparked off your own, and you drew back your hand. But he kept one arm around your back, and with the other he softly rubbed his thumb across your pulse point.

“Who did this to you?”

By the teasing lilt of his voice, he knew exactly who it was, the culprit’s smell all over you.

“Crosshair. Though he left me… unfinished.”

Hunter chuckled low at that.

“Not very nice of him.”

“As if you’re any better.”

He smiled wide enough to show teeth, and oh, that was a dangerous look. He leaned in further, nudging his nose against the curve of your jaw.

“I’ll make it up to you, unless… you would prefer someone else.”

You shook your head, wanting more than anything for Hunter to finish what was building in your abdomen, and you whispered, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s not just the alcohol. I need… I have to be touched. And it’s becoming more difficult to ignore.”

Hunter groaned.

“You can’t just say things like that.”

Again, you sensed the struggle of him trying to restrain his own desire, and it made you wonder. From what the others had told you and what you’d just seen, Hunter was avoidant with people who showed interest in him. Had he always been like that? If he’d never had that kind of physical intimacy before, had Felucia been his only experience?

Were you his first?

The very thought of it buckled some of your restraint, and you ducked your head down and pressed your mouth to his neck right where the body suit ended. Hunter breathed out your name in a low, unsteady warning, and you sensed the sudden attention of the others but found you didn’t mind.

You alternated between licking and sucking his skin, remembering how it felt when Tech and Crosshair had done it to you. His taste on your tongue a heady mixture, you pressed as close as you could, shifting on his lap. Hunter moaned a quiet, “Fuck,” and you might have felt a flush of pride at getting his control to slip if your own wasn’t also on a cliff edge.

“So, we gonna play a hand, or what?” Echo didn’t sound particularly interested in card games, and a silky voice answered him.

“I’m quite enjoying the view.”

You peeked out to find Crosshair watching with a smirk and a lack of shame. He was also holding two large pints in his hands, the top half of them a silver liquid while the lower half was a strange, crimson slush.

“Is that our drink?!” Wrecker boomed, and at your questioning look, he added, “It’s the Bad Batch, named after us! No one else seems to order it though.”

Echo made a face.

“That’s because it’s practically rocket fuel and syrup.”

“It’s… an acquired taste,” Hunter said.

“Yeah, like us! Did you bring me one?”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, but there was a small smirk on his lips.

“It seems I did.” He passed Wrecker one of the pints, who made a happy noise at the arrival of the drink, and then Crosshair gave Hunter a look that said he was already annoyed. “Are you going to move?”

“No.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and stepped onto the table, easily done with his long legs and height, drawing dirty looks from Tech and Echo as he walked across the surface and set himself on Hunter’s other side.

“Looks like we’re sharing this one,” Crosshair mused, passing the pint to you, and you gave its constant bubbles and thick consistency a dubious look.

“I really shouldn’t.”

“Just a taste.”

It truly was unfair how he could drop his voice like that and make everything sound like a damn invitation to bed.

“Come on, it’s tradition!” Wrecker took a deep swig of his drink, and then held out the remaining half to Echo. The silver and red parts of the drink somehow kept from mixing, and Echo gave it a sniff that was just as suspicious as you felt. It must have been his first time drinking this monstrosity too.

Echo sighed and looked at you, his expression one of defeat.

“Together?”

You took the glass in front of you and raised it in a mock toast.

“To your health.”

Echo grinned and said, “For the next couple of seconds, anyway.”

You took the first gulp and fought not to cough it back up. A mixture of sweet syrup and alcoholic fuel slammed into your sinuses. You got exactly two mouthfuls swallowed before you put the glass down, your face pinched as tears filled your vision.

Echo was no better, grabbing the nearest glass of water as the heat hit his tongue. You understood why a second later, your entire mouth on fire, and you grabbed a handful of nearby crackers and shoved them into your mouth.

Wrecker guffawed so hard there were tears in his eyes, and Hunter chuckled while Crosshair grinned. Even Tech’s subtle smirk made an appearance.

“This is a prank, right?” you said, wiping your mouth dry after you gulped down an entire glass of water. It was, quite possibly, the foulest thing you’d ever put in your mouth.

“Afraid not.” Tech took the glass from Echo next and swallowed down a mouthful, his eyes watering behind his goggles.

“That’s the most atrocious thing I’ve ever tasted,” Echo said, appropriately echoing your sentiments. “And I’ve swallowed pure bacta.”

Crosshair took your glass, drank several swallows, and didn’t even have the decency to make a face as he wiped his lips.

“Lightweights.”

To your surprise, he handed the glass to Hunter next, and you watched as he chugged the remainder of the drink.

“Pure bacta is nothing compared to some of Tech’s cooking,” he said once he had finished, and like Crosshair, Hunter didn’t seem bothered by the toxic drink. You were more than a little concerned what they used to eat before you joined.

Tech glared at him.

“My cooking is sufficient.”

“Your cooking is a crime against the Galactic Republic,” Crosshair drawled.

“Surely, you’re exaggerating,” you said, unable to believe Tech was actually bad at anything.

“They are. Wrecker eats all of my concoctions.”

Wrecker rubbed the back of his head.

“I mean, I did have to hold my nose, but…”

Crosshair snickered, and Echo turned to Tech, his frown also disbelieving.

“I’ve seen you reassemble a hyperdrive from scratch. How could you possibly screw up a recipe that badly?”

“Because he doesn’t follow the recipe,” Hunter explained. “He improvises.”

Tech held up a finger.

“Improve. I improve the recipe.”

“He was banned from culinary duty a long time ago,” Crosshair said as he pushed a toothpick between his lips.

“Well, the next time you get the chance to make something, I’ll eat it.”

Tech’s eyes sparkled.

“That is quite the motivation, darling.”

You wondered exactly what you’d gotten yourself into.

Echo finally got them to start a game of sabacc, which you were convinced to join. After three winning hands in a row, they argued over how you were “rigging” the game, so you offered to stop playing and instead predict the winner before each game. You were right every time.

At some point, you’d been moved from Hunter’s lap to Crosshair’s, though your legs were still stretched across Hunter. He’d pulled off your boots and was currently massaging your legs over your body glove. Your head rested on Crosshair’s shoulder, and you spent your eyes more closed than open as you played his hand for him.

Crosshair watched your cards with curious scrutiny, one hand resting on top of your thigh, fingertips lightly tracing patterns while the other lay curled around your hip. You could fall asleep like this, and you were still winning hands.

“Well,” Crosshair said, “you’re not counting cards.”

“No.”

“Then how are you able to win every hand or predict the winner each game?” You could sense Tech’s irritation that he hadn’t been able to figure it out yet, and you smiled a little.

“As the Force wills it.”

They all made various groans and faces, except for Hunter who smiled, and Crosshair just rolled his eyes.

“So that’s why none of our brothers will play against their generals more than once,” Echo mused. You nodded, though the room spinning made you regret doing so.

“It’s not wise to bet against a Jedi.”

“But it’s a good way to earn credits!” Wrecker pointed out with a grin. “Next time we go to Nar Shaddaa, we’re gonna take you to the casinos.”

Next time?!

“And then the Hutts would put bounties on us all,” Tech said, and Wrecker waved him off.

“Those space slugs don’t scare me!”

“You’ve never met a Hutt,” Echo said, making a face.

“The Hutts should worry more about Wrecker. Slather them in butter sauce and sprinkle them with garnish…” Crosshair glanced sideways at Tech, a little smirk forming on his lips. “Well, Wrecker has eaten uglier things—”

“No, no,” Tech interrupted. “No more slights against my cooking.”

Now along with the spinning room thanks to the buzz of alcohol in your veins, you now had another image in your head, and you groaned and laughed as you rubbed your forehead.

“Please, I don’t want to imagine Wrecker trying to eat a Hutt.”

Hunter squeezed your leg in commiseration, but Crosshair purred, “We could give you better things to imagine. How about… strip sabacc?”

“Hell yeah!”

Wrecker was fully on board, but you frowned at the idea.

“I thought the point was to hide my identity. How does removing my clothing help with that?”

Crosshair raised his brows in feigned shock.

“Are you saying the regs would recognize you naked?” He leaned close so only you could hear him say, “Those fur patterns are striking. Like someone painted their fingers all over your body.”

You closed your eyes and drew in a breath, and Hunter cleared his throat. Oh, right, he could hear too.

“I’m not saying no,” you said, louder so the rest of the squad could listen. “Just… not here. Perhaps… your barracks?”

You sensed interest from the others, but Crosshair narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“With you rigging the game? We’d be down to our skin while you’re still fully clothed.”

“Would that be so unpleasant?”

You moved your hand to the back of his neck, fingers running through his short hair, and his eyelids fluttered in response. He snatched your hand and pulled it forward, but he didn’t let it go, instead tracing your fingers with his longer ones.

“Not if we still got to have fun with you.”

You attempted to think of a retort, but your mind was fuzzy and your body pleasantly warm, and Crosshair playing with your hand made both of those things worse. The others were watching the two of you, game forgotten, and even Hunter had stopped massaging your legs. You swallowed.

“If that sounds appealing to the rest of you, I would… like that.”

“Group strip sabacc?! Man, I wish we were on Kamino right now.”

“Are you feeling well?” Tech reached a hand toward Wrecker’s forehead, where it was smacked away before it could make contact.

Echo ignored them and said, “Sounds great, if the rest of you would actually help me clean up the place. I’m not getting nude around all those sharp, rusty engine parts.”

“You’ve been naked in our barracks plenty of times!”

Echo gave Wrecker a sour look.

“Yeah, and it’s a health hazard every time.”

Hunter sighed.

“Echo’s right. No strip sabacc until we get the room up to code.”

Wrecker groaned in defeat, and Tech said, “With all the wires I’ve commandeered from behind the wall panels, that will not be possible, but we can make it sanitary enough for sexual activity. Probably.”

“Well, I’m convinced,” Crosshair drawled.

You simply watched them from where you rested your head against Crosshair’s shoulder, smiling softly at their comradery. You were glad Felucia hadn’t created any awkward distance between them, and it was difficult to remember a time when you’d been willing to walk away from this. Away from them. More hands of sabacc were played while you chose to watch, and more glasses of Bad Batch were passed around. The more you drank, the more accustomed you grew, and you even found yourself craving more. The namesake was quite appropriate, indeed.

Next Chapter