#xii on his way to be the worst man ever.

[twinpainstar]

the cleonic dynasty is actually so fucking funny cause whenever they have a problem they’re like. well guess i’m out of ideas. got any ideas, guy who is also me? 

[blowflyfag]

WWF RAW MAGAZINE: OCTOBER 1998

is Austin the Greatest of all time?

by Kevin Kelly

FOR EVERY man who has won the World Wrestling Federation Championship, there should be virtual reverence. There is no greater pinnacle in the industry of professional wrestling, sports-entertainment or whatever you want to call it. From Buddy Rogers to Kane, no champion’s reign should be taken for granted. They’ve done what few others can ever claim. They were World Wrestling Federation Champions. But of all the greats who have held the title, who’s the best of them all?

I know that this is going to be a subject of debate and perhaps strong opposition in the “Letters to the Editor” department… but that’s fine. Any discussion of “who is the best?” at anything is purely speculative, unless those being compared meet face to face. But speculation has merit if it’s backed up with fact.

I’ve shortened the list of all-time greats to the six champions many consider to have had the most impact. The six to be considered are Bruno Sammartino, Bob Backlund, Hulk Hogan, Bret Hart, Shawn Michaels and Stone Cold Steve Austin. All six are certain first-ballot Hall of Famers who have held the title on more than one occasion and were with the title than without. The obvious omission is the Undertaker, but he would still be the Phenom whether he had ever won the Federation Championship or not.

To me, Bruno and Backland were identical. Both were mirror images who reflected the times, but as wrestlers go neither was perfect. Both fought a slew of enemies from foreign lands and persevered despite evil managers conjuring up obstacles and new foes along the way. Both had one fatal flaw, however. Sammartino was very one dimensional as far as his attack strategy. Despite his predictable brawling style, he had a flair and he could make everyone in the crowd feel his pain. Backlund was just the opposite. Blessed with technical genius, the Minnesota native was cursed with a rigid personality.

In 1984, the regional promotion grew worldwide and Hulk Hogan was the centerpiece, Himself a symbol of the wretched excess that was the decade of the 80s, Hogan was by far the worst wrestler ever to be crowned Federation Champion. However, he had a multitude of charisma and “Hulkamania” was the rallying point with his act and unfortunately, whether it was his fault or the company’s, his character never evolved. Despite his faults, Hulk Hogan’s impact was so strong that some casual fans still think he’s Federation Champion, despite the fact that he is many years removed from his last reign.

From there, champions with impact were neither good or bad, but shades of grey. Bret Hart wore the Federation Championship belt on five separate occasions, but perhaps he is best remembered for turning against his fans before leaving the company in disgrace in late 1997. The “Excellence of Execution” was globally the most popular champion ever, but perhaps never shook off the loss he suffered in the Ironman match at WrestleMania XII.

[(From left to right) Bret Hart was never able to shake off his loss to Shawn Michaels at WrestleMania XII. During his reign, Shawn went from living his “boyhood dream” to telling fans to “Suck it!” By far the worst wrestler to be crowned champion, Hulk Hogan had the charisma to make him a marketing success at the time.]

The man Hart lost to began his championship era by talking about his “boyhood dream.” By the end of his third reign, Shawn Michaels was telling people to “Suck it!” HBK certainly evolved while wearing the gold and always elicited a very strong emotional response from the crowd–be it positive or negative. Shawn didn’t care whether you liked him–he just wanted you to care. Michaels knew he was the man and his “Kliq”, which evolved into D-Generation X, certainly had a prominent role in behind-the-scenes politics as well. Just as with the fans, he didn’t care whether the office liked him or not–as long as they did things his way.

That brings us to Stone Cold Steve Austin, who has gained the most recognition as Federation Champion since Hulk Hogan. Whether it’s the cover of TV Guide, a plethora of appearances on MTV or half-time at the Super Bowl… wherever you go, you see Stone Cold Steve Austin. As a matter of fact, Austin has sold more merchandise than any other Federation Champion–past, present and, most likely, future. He is the closest thing to a cultural phenomenon since Elvis Presly. But unlike every other champion on this list, the King–who was disliked by older Americans–there is one thing that separates Stone Cold Steve Austin and, in my opinion, raises him slightly above the rest.

Quite simply, it’s universal appeal. Every former champ had a segment of the fans who didn’t care much for him. In some areas of the South, Hulk Hogan would be booed out of the arenas. In more hardcore climates, the “Sexy Boy” was jeered. In fact, many blame Shawn’s loss of the Federation Title at the 1996 Survivor Series on the New York fans for getting on him so badly. Bret Hart was always more popular in foreign countries than in the United States. Both Sammartino and Backlund were regional champions, despite their long reigns at the top of the Federation.

Put your finger anywhere on the map and that part of the world loves Stone Cold Steve Austin. His cross-cultural appeal, I think, can be attributed to his fundamental work ethic, his defiance of authority and the belief that he is a true tough guy. In the 1950s, John Wayne movies were popular all over the globe, despite cultural and linguistic differences. Why? He killed bad guys and didn’t take crap from anybody. You don’t need to understand English to get that.

[Stone Cold Steve Austin’s popularity can be attributed to his cross-cultural appeal, his defiance of authority (e.g., stunning the owner!) and the complete honesty with which his character is presented.]

Stone Cold Steve Austin has never changed. He has, does and always will flip middle fingers at the crowd and his boss. His language is offensive to the more refined and his rampant “adult beverage” consumption makes network executives and the Federation’s owner cringe. Perhaps it’s the complete honesty with which his character is presented that contributes to his appeal. Looking back, it’s hard to imagine us thinking that all former champions on this list were entirely good. That outdated, naive way of thinking went out the window when Austin 3:!6 opened up his first can of whoop-ass.

Certainly those omitted from this list of all-time greatest are going to be topic of controversy and debate. But I doubt that anyone will deny the impact Stone Cold Steve Austin has had. He is the greatest Federation Champion of all time, in my opinion. Does the man who beats the man become the next “greatest”? Perhaps. He just better find a way to command the respect and admiration of everybody who pays to see him.

[auxiliarydetective]

Love and War, Chapter 8

Goodbye

i. | ii. | iii. | iv. | v. | vi. | vii. | viii. | ix. | x. | xi. | xii. | xiii.

AO3

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄✼▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

And so, Anita ended up staying with Easy Company. Starting the next day, they would be moving again. It was a welcome change of pace, especially compared to sitting around and freezing. After Bastogne, they were now in the area of Foy, a town fast in the Germans’ hands. As the days went by, Anita found herself getting more and more accepted into Easy. She made new acquaintances like Garcia, Andrews, Miller and Hashey and deepened her relationship with people like Buck Compton, Frank Perconte, Joe Toye and Donald Hoobler. First Sergeant Lipton was kind to her too, as he was kind to anyone. Even Lieutenant Dike sometimes talked to her, though the conversations were always very short and awkward. The poor man, “Foxhole Norman”, who seemed like he was in over his head. Either way, those little conversations with friends and acquaintances made the icy cold weather just a little easier to deal with. If you were complaining about the cold, at least you could do it together. But there were also moments that made cold showers, colder than the snow, run down Anita’s spine. Moments like the death of Donald Hoobler. It had been a single shot in the distance. Just one. Only a while later had she learned what had happened. Hoobler had been shot in the leg by the thing he had gone around bragging with to everyone, by his most prized loot, his luger. It had hit the main artery, leaving him to bleed out in panic and pain. But that was far from the worst. The worst was yet to come.

The day had started with Easy returning to its old position overlooking Foy, just at the edge of the woods. What had greeted them were shattered trees everywhere, a foreboding message of what was to come. That was artillery. Whatever Anita had believed to be artillery fire before had been nothing compared to the shellings here. The images of the trees around her made Anita think of her cheek wound. Splinters from these explosions wouldn’t have simply pierced her cheek, they could take out her entire leg.

Foxholes were being dug, an activity that Anita could almost say she enjoyed, simply because it made her feel the most useful. This time, she was helping Guarnere, gathering branches for his cover.

“Thanks Anita," he said and took back his little axe. “You’re a quick lumberjack.”

“It’s not like a had to chop down a tree, the Germans already did that for me," Anita explained. “I just had to chop off the branches. Do you need any more?”

“No, I think that’s enough.”

Together, they started arranging the branches to cover the foxhole, weaving them together to create a little wall.

“Hey, how’s your face?” Guarnere asked. “Is it healing well?”

“Well, I haven’t had any complaints yet," Anita said. “Probably gonna leave a scar though.”

“Eh, don’t worry about that. Scars don’t make you any less beautiful.”

“You’re always a charmer.”

“Of course. Gotta make sure you don’t regret stayin’. You ever miss bein’ a rigger?”

“Sometimes," Anita confessed. “But I miss Aldbourne for a different reason.”

“Bars? Warmth?”

“Showers. God, I would die for a shower right now. I feel so yucky.”

“Eh, you’re fine," Guarnere told her. “But if you ever wanna shower and you need someone to stand guard, ya let me know, alright?”

“Sure," Anita chuckled.

That was when an explosion went off, closely followed by another and another and another. The Germans had started firing on their position. Yells filled the air, barely audible over the noise. Guarnere pulled Anita into his chest as they cowered in the barely finished foxhole. In the middle of the chaos, Don plopped down next to them, covering his head. The shelling seemed to go on for hours, smoke clouding the skies, snow being whirled around, splinters flying through the air. When it was quiet again, it was almost haunting. Slowly, Guarnere let Anita go and gave her a pat on the back. The three of them, Anita, Don and Guarnere, looked over the foxhole like cautious rabbits.

“Maybe we should see if anybody’s hit," Don suggested, giving a voice to Anita’s thoughts.

“Eh, Malark, that’s what they want," Guarnere said. “The Krauts are trying to draw us out in the open.”

Anita’s ears were still ringing with the sound of the explosions when she heard a voice. It was pained, distorted, sending shivers down her spine.

“I gotta get up… I gotta get up…”

“Does anyone else hear that?” she gasped.

Both Don and Guarnere nodded.

“Is that Joe?” Guarnere asked.

For a few seconds, they all listened in silence.

“Yeah, I think that’s Joe," Don confirmed.

Anita remembered something: She still had one first aid packet left. Doc Roe had given it to her, along with schooling her once again that she should never put herself in danger to help another person. She should leave that up to the medics. But if the opportunity ever called for it, he had said, she could use the packet to save a life. It seemed that time was now. Joe Toye was out there, not too far away, sounding like he was in shock. He needed her help. Quickly, Anita got up but was immediately pulled back down.

“Stay," Guarnere said curtly, then hurried into the snow and the smoke to where the voice had come from.

“Stay in your foxholes!” another voice shouted further away. “Stay in your foxholes!”

Anita looked after him, clenching her gloved hands into fists. She wanted to be the one out there. She needed to know if Toye was okay. Her mind trailed back to the story about Hoobler. Joe Toye was probably in a similar state he was in, scared and in pain. At least Hoobler hadn’t been alone, but Toye was. He was all by himself. Or he would be until Guarnere reached him. Hopefully, it would all be okay.

“You alright?” Don asked, placing a hand on Anita’s arm.

This snapped her out of her thoughts. “Yeah, yeah… I’m just…”

“Worried about Joe?”

“Yeah. I feel bad just sitting here.”

“Bill’s gonna take care of him. He’s gonna be okay.”

Anita nodded quietly. She leaned against Don and closed her eyes, hoping to find a calmer piece of mind. But that attempt was cut short by another explosion. Another shelling. Immediately, Anita’s heart beat faster than machine gun fire. Toye and Guarnere were still out there! She tried to peek over the top of the foxhole, but Don pulled her down. This barrage was torture. It went on for what felt like hours, leaving Anita panicking inside over whether her friends were okay. They had to be okay. They had to have made it to a foxhole. Finally, the noise died down again. Anita looked around, trying to spot movement in the smoke.

“They’re okay, Annie," Don assured her. “They’re-“

“MEDIC!”

That was Buck Compton’s voice, but distorted and shaky. Immediately, Anita hurled herself out of the foxhole. This time, there was no stopping her. The call had come from the direction Joe Toye’s voice had also come from, from the direction Guarnere had run to. She could hardly see, hardly breathe in the smoke, but she kept going. Finally, she broke through the trees. Before her stood Buck Compton, his helmet in the snow next to him, his hands shaking. He was blankly staring at the ground in front of him. What he was looking at made Anita’s heart stop and shatter. On scarlet-colored snow lay her friends, Bill Guarnere and Joe Toye, unconscious. Both of them had been hit in the leg, but it was no ordinary wound. No. Toye had had his leg blown off, a large, bloody flesh wound right where a leg should have been. Guarnere’s leg was completely mingled, like a wild animal had torn it apart. The sight made Anita nauseous, but she could hardly feel it over the pain in her chest, the urge to scream and cry. But she didn’t. She knew she had to do something.

“Buck," she said softly, carefully approaching him. “Buck.”

He looked at her with widened eyes, his breathing shallow.

“You need to sit down, okay? Come on.”

She picked up his helmet from the floor and took him by the arms. It took some effort to turn his frozen body around, but finally he let himself be moved. Slowly, she guided him to a fallen tree nearby and sat him down.

“Drink some water," she suggested. “You’ll feel better. Everything is going to be okay. They’ll make it.”

She didn’t know if she believed what she said, but she told herself she did. Once he was safely settled down, she headed back to where Toye and Guarnere were, taking a deep breath. Who to help first? What could she even do for Guarnere? That was not a wound for first aid, that was- Oh god, it was awful. Quickly, she squatted down next to Toye, took off her gloves and pulled out her first aid packet. Where was that medic? What was taking him so long? Finally, right at that moment, Doc Roe came. Anita made space for him, letting him do his work. That was when Toye’s eyes fluttered open. Immediately, he started to breathe rapidly, pained groans escaping between each gasp for air.

“You’re okay, Joe, you’re okay," Anita told him, taking his hand. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t want this anymore," Toye whimpered.

“You’ll be okay. Hang in there, Joe.” She ran her fingers across his cheek. “Just breathe.”

“Shit," she heard a groan behind her.

She turned around to see that Bill Guarnere had propped himself up. He was now wriggling around, trying to move. It reminded her hauntingly of Toye’s words. I gotta get up. I gotta get up.

“Hey, Bill, don’t move," she gasped.

She left Toye in the hands of Doc Roe and rushed to Bill’s side. Carefully, she wrapped an arm around him, giving him stability. He leaned against her limply, his breathing shallow from the pain.

“Somethin’ tells me I won’t recover from this too easy," he groaned.

“No, this is your ticket home," Anita said softly.

Steps approached in the snow and Don came out from behind the trees. His eyes were widened in shock. Quickly, he scrambled to the floor next to Joe Toye and helped him stay upright.

“What can I do?”

“You got a smoke?” Toye asked through gritted teeth.

Quickly, Don shook off his glove and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

“Jesus, what’s a guy gotta do to get killed around here?” Toye moaned.

Whatever the cigarette Don gave him would do to help, Anita hoped it had the effect he wanted. Maybe, just maybe, it would distract him. From behind the trees, two men with a stretcher arrived.

“Bill, you’re going first," the medic said.

“Whatever you say, Doc," Bill groaned. “Whatever you say. - Hey, Anita?”

“Yes?” Anita replied, squeezing his shoulders.

“How about you kiss me goodbye?”

A chuckle escaped Anita from somewhere deep down, despite her feeling nothing like laughing. Before the two men came to pick him up, she pressed a kiss on his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair. When he was lifted onto the stretcher, Bill cried out in pain at the sudden movement, sending shivers down Anita’s spine.

That was when Lipton arrived.

“Hey, Lip. They got ol’ Guarnere this time," Bill announced as if apologetically.

Lipton just stared, then looked around as if trying to assess the situation.

“Hey, Joe," Bill said as they carried him off, “I told ya I’d beat ya back to the states.”

That was the last Anita heard from him. She stared at him for a few seconds, then forced herself to look away. Her eyes wandered around as if she had been taken out of a trance. Then, she saw Luz coming towards the group from where Compton still sat, his head in his hands.

“Hey, Lip," Luz said somberly, as if to announce something. But when he saw Joe Toye, whimpering and gasping for air on the ground, his leg missing, he froze.

“How’s Buck?," Lipton asked. But he got no response. “Luz! How’s Buck?”

“He’s fine," Luz replied quietly.

“You sure?”

“Yes, he’s fine. … You should probably go talk to him now, huh?”

“Alright.”

So, Lipton left to go see Compton. Luz stood there for a while, looking like any gust of wind could knock him over. Then, he headed off. Anita watched him leave, nausea twisting her insides. She took one more look at Joe Toye on the ground. He was in good hands, she told herself. Don and Doc Roe would take care of him. Buck Compton had someone to look after him now, too. But there was one person who had nobody. So, Anita followed Luz through the trees. She found him sitting in a foxhole, all by himself.

“Hey," she said softly.

“Hey," he replied, trying to force a smile.

She sat down in the foxhole next to him and looked him in the eyes. They were empty, hollow. Their usually warm and lively brown had turned cold.

“How do you feel?”

“Peachy," he said. “Never been better.”

With shaky hands, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette pack. His eyes fixated on something in the distance, he popped it open and fished around inside, only to find out that it was empty.

“Shit," he murmured.

Quickly, Anita opened her bag and pulled out her own, still full pack of cigarettes, offering it to him. That got his attention. Finally, he looked her in the eyes.

“I thought you didn’t smoke," he said as he took one of the cigarettes and started searching his pockets for his lighter.

“I don’t. But they gave me a pack when I left for Bastogne, just like everyone else got one," Anita explained. “Figured I might as well keep it. You never know when someone might need a smoke.”

That was when George Luz smiled again, even if just a little. It was the faint hint of a smile, but it was enough. As he fumbled with his lighter, just a little of his usual self was back.

“Here, let me help you," Anita offered.

She took his lighter and lit his cigarette for him. The smoke that now started to fill the air made her feel at home. In a way, she had started associating it with Easy Company. Those nights in the pub at Aldbourne. It reminded her of Don, Luz… but also of Bill. Her body tensed up at the memory, making her want to puke out her intestines.

“Hey, where’d you leave your gloves?” Luz asked, taking one of her hands and puffing a cloud of warm smoke onto it.

Now it was Anita whose hands were shaking. One was occupied by Luz, the other she used to cover her mouth to muffle a sob. She had left her gloves with Joe Toye.

“Come here," Luz said softly and pulled her into his arms.

She let him, unable to resist anything and yearning for human touch as some sort of remedy to her pain. Her whole body shaking with her sobs, she clung on to him like a lifeline.

“It’s okay," Luz told her, rubbing his hands across her back. “Let it out. It’s gonna be okay.”

They stayed like this for a while. Over and over, he told her that it would be okay, comforted her, made her feel safe, understood. Slowly but surely, Anita’s breathing calmed, her sobs faded away, her thoughts stopped spinning. Finally, she took a deep breath and pulled herself out of Luz’s comforting arms.

“I’m sorry," she mumbled.

“Don’t be," he replied.

“You keep having to deal with my emotions. That’s gotta be tough.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“You too. Anyone who offers me smokes is a good friend.”

“I take it back, you’re awful.”

“There’s the Anita I know.”

“You want another smoke for later?”

“Always.”

So, Anita once again pulled out her cigarette pack and took out a few cigarettes, transporting them from her pack into Luz’s.

“And when you light it…”

“I’ll think of my favourite wacko, the pinup angel who gifted it to me.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They stayed in silence for a while, watching the grey skies. Anita rubbed her hands together, trying to somehow keep them warm. She breathed in the smoke as Luz took the last drag of his cigarette and watched as he threw the remains of it away with a light flick of his hand. That was when Don approached from behind.

“There you are, Annie," he said and came down into the foxhole. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sorry, sorry," Anita said. “I had to make a social call.”

“Those are your gloves, right?”

Anita looked at the black woolen gloves in his hands, then at her own hands, reddened with the cold.

“Yeah," she said a little faintly. “Can’t go too long without 'em in this god-awful weather.”

[rintoorou]

ALOHA, HAWAII — a suna rintarou smau

the illusion of sipping hawaiian cocktails as you bask under the sun was soon shattered when miya atsumu tells (surprises) you that his best pal, suna rintarou, will be helping you make the finishing touches to his and your cousin’s wedding. the problem? you firmly believe that suna is a cold, inattentive, detached a-grade a-hole, making him the worst wedding planner to ever exist. 

alternatively, in which your ex-boyfriend tries to win you over again as the both of you try to plan a wedding together in hawaii. 

ex!suna rintarou x fem!reader 

genre exes au, timeskip!haikyuu (but not manga accurate), romcom, angst, humour, maybe slowburn 

extras like if 50 first dates and mamma mia had a baby, light hearted profanity and death jokes bc they’re effective coping mechanisms for planning a wedding with your ex, forced proximity, swear words, a lil suggestive (wink), yearning, sakuatsu!, google also helps with the wedding planning, i use aespa karina’s pics for yn

playlist baby, i love your way by big mountain | gimme! gimme! gimme! (a man after midnight) by abba | voulez-vous by abba | bahama by aespa | amber by 311 | please please please by sabrina carpenter | another day by paul mccartney | sad girl by lana del rey | slow dancing in a burning room by john mayer | us. by gracie abrams (ft. taylor swift) | 21 by gracie abrams | we can’t be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande | love song by 311 | video games by lana del rey | i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys | so high school by taylor swift

notes HERE IT ISSSS the first smau series on this blog and it’s only right that i do it w my man suna rintarou ◡̈ hope you guys are gonna enjoy this just as much as i do aaaaa

status ongoing with hopefully regular updates

the leads ; also featuring

intro

i. family ties

ii. meet cute in hawaii (?)

iii. they're both sakusa!

iv. you meet people twice

v. pride and friendship

vi. all in the past

vii. baby steps

viii. #throwbackthursday

ix. old habits

x. strawberry shaved ice

xi. resurfacing dreams

xii. where it all started

xiii. nerds playing cup pong

xiv. atsumu spotted in yn’s mentions

xv. when your ex and sister are close

xvi. are you still the same?

xvii. kuroo’s birthday party (pt. 1)

xviii. kuroo’s birthday party (pt. 2)

xix. kuroo’s birthday party (pt. 3)

xx. cute date idea

xxi. lil’ q&a with atsumu

xxii. don’t fall (literally)

xxiii. you don’t mind if i ask her out?

xxiv. paying your debts

tbc...

taglist is open!

[libidomechanica]

Your sleeper

A Kelly lune sequence

               I

Speak her golden tresses, milton appere. Your sleeper?

               II

The will once a body was summer and the shadow?

               III

Forget me, some in juice of all,— what are enamel.

               IV

He is a word. Thee another side of it. Down, down!

               V

Came flying. Of faded am full of syllogisms.

               VI

Through the berried to have kills her maternal longing.

               VII

Doth dark defiles. A man; and aye? Twas better, Fruit.

               VIII

But ah! Disgusting in double rent. In mournful doue.

               IX

Us live drink! Will the coil of those perforce content.

               X

And play: then fayrest proceed. Love for her eyes’ expressed.

               XI

To draw near and round with me. Discussed a double rent.

               XII

The contaynd in the ecstasy expire. When I went.

               XIII

On the Elysian ground. Love a cherub ceaseless ill.

               XIV

Abode his grasp this way? Me to thee will; bearing ill.

               XV

But still once vouchsafe my poore life has give—and a pose.

               XVI

Night a message here! But hope to a woe like ones moan.

               XVII

To give the best. Things, and chast delight to sway the paine.

               XVIII

I burst his whole weene. The Ball no Question makes me pore.

               XIX

I said he, Why am I. Thus I then wink awhile.

               XX

Circle-glory! And sank, soft murmured doth pride can calls.

               XXI

A good Angels blessed light me your hand against his depth.

               XXII

Draught— young maintayned. Said Cyril very world adore.

               XXIII

Through spring of what my very humour hall! She signs.

               XXIV

On it had a wish. I would he had a wife o’ mine.

               XXV

So that the daisy tips? When both forth looking stranger!

               XXVI

The flower. Another wil be that I reap’d—I came.

               XXVII

And I said an arrow- wounded, nor foes—all nation.

               XXVIII

So fiercely the free. They are three days of meane degree.

               XXIX

To make: for Venus blis. We only, whom fresh again.

               XXX

And still speech. The midmost fear that is Lord be gracious!

               XXXI

I leave you what other. ’ Purity, that all asleep?

               XXXII

That He who I am, first hunger too? A conquer’d?

               XXXIII

Look around me and I spot the sea. Can it be name!

               XXXIV

Mark the monster proud; your voice of pure elysium.

               XXXV

That taught to leap the river-lily bud! Come away?

               XXXVI

His palm, like the rest: but when he felt. Worst to his depth.

               XXXVII

Out in his mother. And Now, ’ she sate with some brightes.

               XXXVIII

I had beautiful. Dim basenesse. And lines of heart.

               XXXIX

Care, it down, I find it others gaze too wel haue fedd.

               XL

A narrowness is Paradise enow. A moonless?

               XLI

It’s not repenting, and shall sit, and gleamed. Ere delight.

               XLII

To each other sight. But I was things that mercy too.

               XLIII

In secret sorrow. To breaking fork deep: and to them?

               XLIV

While other, rapidly, like fyre: whose smyling loues pray.

               XLV

Most: where all day did offend. Form and laboured arre.

               XLVI

I have a dreaming. And, wife, and we sound suspires.

               XLVII

Now them slay, sweet! Something thus; Drear, dreadfull traynes well.

               XLVIII

To where was spring. For every flower, not a word.

               XLIX

But the less. Had been a boat tacks, and wash out of these?

               L

Should I bless our closed. Since a bowl was so lucky place.

               LI

No, Time, that for me? Instead, every harts desire.

               LII

I must for ever. Proud usurper, answer, we calls.

               LIII

The rolling mist, the warning: hie but halfe for ever.

               LIV

All earth; for that. Their milky ways of such worse to all.

               LV

Of the sweet growes the smart. In the could expiate.

               LVI

Drink! For when away and No, into Dust, and was gold.

               LVII

Yet my thought, and it streight bids meet the fame in treason.

               LVIII

Cover banks of op’ning rose; but that due, utterly!

               LIX

That Youth’s day-star? Newer might: who every Killing mirth!

[selkiewife]

Theon Month || Day 5: Flaws

In my opinion, Theon’s worst flaw is the way he views and treats women, children, and smallfolk at the beginning of the series. What makes this flaw truly interesting is that it is directly caused by his insecurity over being a hostage for half his life. Let me explain: 

A lot has been written about how Jon and Theon are foils. However, their individual circumstances are also kind of foils to each other as well. Though they are both outcasts, the nature of their positions are radically different. I’ve written before about my theory that both Theon and Jon developed certain personality traits and suppressed others based on how they feared to be perceived. For example, because of his society’s intense prejudice against bastards, Jon’s fear is being seen as a usurper of his true born siblings: 

Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous. Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father that he could be as good and true a son as Robb.

~ A Storm of Swords, Jon X

In order to combat this negative image and fear of what he might become, he allows his empathy to thrive and he always puts his siblings needs first (his actions when they found the direwolves for example) while suppressing his natural ambition. This is shown by how much he struggles over wanting Winterfell when Stannis offers him it:

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger . . . he could feel it.

~ A Storm of Swords, Jon XII 

Just as Jon allows his natural empathy to thrive and suppresses his ambitions, Theon does nearly the opposite. This is because while Jon is cast in the “treacherous bastard” role in society, Theon is cast in the role of “weak hostage.”

The whole castle, from Lady Stark to the lowliest kitchen scullion, knew he was hostage to his father's good behavior, and treated him accordingly. Even the bastard Jon Snow had been accorded more honor than he had.

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon I

The position of hostage is position of weakness because hostages’ lives can be forfeit at any moment based on other people’s actions. A hostage, therefore, has no real agency of their own. A hostage’s lack of choice and lack of agency is similar to being a woman, a member of the smallfolk or a child in Westerosi society. Even though Theon is a highborn man- he is still stuck in the role of child hostage at the beginning of the series. He is stuck as Jon and Robb go on to take their place in society. Robb becomes King in the North and Jon joins the Night’s Watch, while Theon is still being used as a bargaining ship, similar to a woman being offered in marriage. In fact, the way Arya and Theon are talked about during the War of the Five Kings is very similar:

Arya’s proposed arranged marriage in order allow Robb’s Army to cross the bridge on the Green Fork:

"Also, if your sister Arya is returned to us safely, it is agreed that she will marry Lord Walder's youngest son, Elmar, when the two of them come of age."

Robb looked nonplussed. "Arya won't like that one bit."

~ A Game of Thrones, Catelyn IX

Ned intending to negotiate over Theon for Balon’s fleet:

“I want a careful watch kept over Theon Greyjoy. If there is war, we shall have sore need of his father's fleet.”

~ A Game of Thrones, Eddard IV

You would think that perhaps Theon would use this experience to develop empathy for people who are in a similar position of lacking agency or any control over their lives. Instead he takes the opposite approach and attempts to use his privilege of being a highborn man to show that he is not a woman, not a child, and not beneath anyone else. Because what Theon fears most of all is being seen as weak. And he takes out his fear on the people his society views as weaker in order to feel strong and feel like he is in control such as the way he treats the captain of the Myraham and his daughter (neither of who ever are referred to by their names):

He put an arm around the captain's daughter. "Summon me when we make Lordsport," he told her father. "We'll be below, in my cabin." He led the girl away aft, while her father watched them go in sullen silence. The cabin was the captain's, in truth, but it had been turned over to Theon's use when they sailed from Seagard. The captain's daughter had not been turned over to his use, but she had come to his bed willingly enough all the same. A cup of wine, a few whispers, and there she was. The girl was a shade plump for his taste, with skin as splotchy as oatmeal, but her breasts filled his hands nicely and she had been a maiden the first time he took her. That was surprising at her age, but Theon found it diverting. He did not think the captain approved, and that was amusing as well, watching the man struggle to swallow his outrage while performing his courtesies to the high lord, the rich purse of gold he'd been promised never far from his thoughts.

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon I 

Again, you can see all the posturing at play here. Even though he spent the last ten years as a hostage, he is not weak or afraid. On the contrary, he is a great Lord, making smallfolk and women do his bidding. They are the weak ones, not him. 

This fear of being seen as weak is only exacerbated when he returns to Pyke. And When Balon belittles him, it is markedly gendered: 

"Did Ned Stark dress you like that?" his father interrupted, squinting up from beneath his robe. "Was it his pleasure to garb you in velvets and silks and make you his own sweet daughter?"

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon I

And then later in that conversation when he begins to question whether or not Theon bought his necklace with the iron price or the gold:

You blush red as a maid, Theon. A question was asked. Is it the gold price you paid, or the iron?"

"The gold," Theon admitted.

His father slid his fingers under the necklace and gave it a yank so hard it was like to take Theon's head off, had the chain not snapped first. "My daughter has taken an axe for a lover," Lord Balon said. "I will not have my son bedeck himself like a whore." He dropped the broken chain onto the brazier, where it slid down among the coals. "It is as I feared. The green lands have made you soft, and the Starks have made you theirs."

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon I

Balon calls him a woman and treats him as a child- backhanding him when Theon protested him burning Robb’s letter. And both Asha and his Uncle Aeron dispute his claim that he is the heir.

I am heir to Pyke and the Iron Islands."

"As to that," his uncle said, "we shall see."

The words were a slap in the face. "We shall see? My brothers are both dead. I am my lord father's only living son."

"Your sister lives... And you are a great fool if you believe your lord father will ever hand these holy islands over to a Stark. Now be silent. The ride is long enough without your magpie chatterings."

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon I

He scarcely welcomed me, his own blood, the heir to Pyke and the Iron Islands."

"Are you?" she asked mildly. "It's said that you have uncles, brothers, a sister."

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon II 

So the image of himself he has created in his head to prove he is not weak and defenseless- “I am a man! I’m an heir and thus important! And I have a family that is awaiting my glorious return!”- All of that has been brutally torn apart when he returns home. This makes him want to prove that he is not weak even more- and now, to also prove that the Starks did not make him theirs. So he captures Winterfell, becomes a prince where he was once a prisoner and begins his downward spiral that ends in his awful crimes against Mikken, Palla, Farlen, Kyra, The Miller’s Wife, and the Miller’s boys. 

This is why the transformation he goes through with Jeyne is all the more significant. She is a girl and she is not nobility. She is not important to anyone for her own identity. She is also exactly the type of person that Theon would have dismissed in the past or used for his own gain. But because he cannot bear to see her suffering, he helps her. In showing empathy to her, he saves himself as well. I think this is so moving because in a way, it reflects hope for the world of asoiaf as well. The heroic characters of the series are the ones that are seen to care about the smallfolk, slaves, women, and children. And Theon can be seen as a symbol for the brokenness of the world of asoiaf- both corrupted and victimized by patriarchal feudalism, yet finding salvation, resiliency, and strength through helping someone as “insignificant” as Jeyne Poole. In this way, what originally was Theon’s greatest flaw in A Clash of Kings is now his greatest strength in A Dance with Dragons.

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author Notes: hello again my loves! Thank you for all your likes, reviews and specially your comments! I love it when you make questions and in general let me know what you think about the chapter. Thank you once more for all your support!

XII.

They say time heals all wounds, but there are some wounds that run so deep they refuse to stop bleeding.

https://youtu.be/s1tAYmMjLdY

A cold September afternoon welcomed the dying rays of the sun, the incandescent amber tones of the twilight illuminated the streets of Tokyo, ever so vibrant; full of life, people, delicious food, kaleidoscopic colors, laughter, children running…. Couples holding hands.

A tall man with a blindfold walked down a heavily transited sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and a small bag of pastries hanging off the side. Slowly, he made his way further away from the more concentric streets towards a park, he found a bench near a fountain and took a seat placing his bag right next to him.

The world remained the same and yet everything seemed to have changed, the days were now long and boring, conversations with people didn’t manage to hold his attention for long; missions were repetitive. Everything seemed… dull, opaque, flavorless, empty…

Everything, except perhaps his students who were the only sliver of hope he had left. Those kids would make it far in life, they were going to change the world and he was going to be there to help them along the way. A sad smile pulls at his peachy lips. You would have liked that. After all, the kids also enjoyed your company back in the day when you were still his. It was as if you had become their adoptive mother of sorts at some point. Your nurturing nature guided you to care for others.

A year ago when Yuuji was placed under his care and tutelage at Jujutsu High it had been hard for the boy. At the time the kid had just lost his only living relative and to top it off he also consumed the most powerful curse ever known to man kind.

He had so much responsibility on his shoulders Satoru couldn’t help but make the connection with himself when he was a kid his age. That’s how Satoru decided to take him home for dinner one night; he couldn’t have been more pleased with his decision. Of course, you adored Yuuji. His sweet snd enthusiastic personality, his polite manners and naiveté made him just endearing in your eyes.

Even Megumi, who barely spoke with his more taciturn approach asked about you. Satoru didn’t know how to answer. The dark haired boy would also come and visit your home to help you prepare some foreign delicacies you loved to cook. Sighing once more he ran his hands through his white hair.

***-Flashback-***

“So where’s Y/N-san? I haven’t seen her in a long time?” Asked Megumi right after Satoru returned from New York. It caught him by surprise

“She… she doesn’t live in Japan anymore” was all he said before changing the subject. Megumi looked at him with eyes wide open but decided not to pry.

Yeah… that probably was weird. Someone asks you about your spouse and you say they moved out of the country. It was pretty obvious what that meant.

***~End Flash Back~***

Sighing he opened the small paper bag containing his mochi, he loved his desert but lately he didn’t even have the will to indulge in sweets anymore. Satoru consumed insane amounts of sugar to stimulate his brain. The problem was that during the past year all that stimulation manifested in the form of vivid memories of you. Your voice, your smell, your presence. It was as if his brain chose to take him down the path to misery, as if to rub on his face what he could never have.

As of last week you were officially not Y/N Gojo anymore. He finally signed those blasted papers giving you your freedom and his capitulation.

It had been one of the worst days of his life.

After signing the divorce Satoru went straight to the liquor store where he found that exotic apricot liquor he liked in New York and bought a bottle. Once he made it back home he proceeded to get drunk out of his mind. The next morning he woke up by the pool, laying down on a tanning chair, wearing only a pair of boxers and hugging your wedding picture.

His head was killing him, at some point he had emptied his insides in the pool. A disgusted grimace reminded him he had to hire some help to take care of the house that was an absolute disaster, faithfully reflecting the state of its owner.

That morning, nursing a hangover he swore off alcohol for the rest of his life.

But hey! On the positive side he didn’t remember at all that night! Which means he ‘probably’ didn’t think about you (yeah right! As if he was ever not thinking about you) and how much he hated the fact you were not his Y/N Gojo anymore. You were not his wife anymore…

The memory made him want to cry like a baby. He lost the person he loved the most in his life because he had been one flaming idiot.

Despite all his efforts he could not forget you. Wherever he went, whatever he did… there you were, tormenting his waking and sleeping hours like his own personal curse.

He tried to get over you. He tried to be the asshole you knew him to be. He slept with so many women he couldn’t even count. But at the end of the night, in the throes of passion it was your face that he saw, your body that he craved, your flavor that he yearned and your name the one he called out when he climaxed.

He was absolutely fucked.

Revisiting memories of the last night he saw you he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been at the time. It took him so long to realize he had always been in love with you but Satoru, being well… himself, he didn’t want to see or admit that he had been head over heels, madly in love with you. He was a cynical bastard and that had cost him dearly. He chose to lie to himself thinking that THE Gojo Satoru was above all human weaknesses… including love. What an ignorant fucker he had been.

He wondered how you were doing and if you ever thought about him.

A frown made his handsome face look stern. Well… you were not alone anymore. Suguru also had stayed back in New York with you. After Satoru returned to Japan, Ijichi told him Geto Suguru wouldn’t be working out of Japan anymore. He had requested a transfer to the Americas.

Of course he did…

It had been one of the reasons Satoru fucked so many women. In his delusional mind he was ‘getting even’ with you for sleeping with Suguru. Not that he knew for a fact you were sleeping with him or not but… I mean….

Come on! It’s mother fucking Geto Suguru we are talking about here! 6’2 of pure sculpted muscles, tattoos and bad boy looks but with a Prince Charming complex. Yeah… Satoru was green with jealousy because he knew his former best friend was a better man for you than he ever was.

Looking down at his mochi bag he realized the small item had paid the price of his anger as he uncurled his death grip from the bag. Sighing he tossed the ruined pastry in the trash can to his left.

“Miss you….” He whispered to the wind.

———–

“I’m home!” You announced walking into your apartment. Setting you bag down as well as a couple of grocery bags “did you start dinner already?” You ask pleasantly surprised although you already knew the answer to that question since all the apartment smelled fantastic. Suguru walked out of the kitchen with a big smile wearing an apron that read ‘Kiss the Cheff’ nods “yes! I figured I would give you a hand tonight!” He answered as you walked to him to wrap your arms around his waist and give him a chaste kiss on his cheek “thank you Sugu. How was your mission?” You asked deciding to set up the table while Suguru finished dinner. “Not too bad actually, it was a special grade but nothing I couldn’t deal with” you returned a bright smile “I’m glad”

Your friendship with Suguru had slowly evolved into something else. You both spent all of your free time together. Your connection was deeper than mere sexual attraction. Suguru truly understood you, cared for you, shared your dreams and hopes. He was the type of poetic soul who would stay awake with you well into the night just to talk about the stars, the book you read that week that you loved, the new music you liked. It was wholesome.

On the more carnal side you desired Suguru and he desired you but you hadn’t taken what was going on between you two further than a few passionate make-out sessions and some cuddling.

After you last saw Satoru everything became worse before it got better. Suguru had been your rock, he had been there for the sleepless nights you spent crying. Without a word he held you in his strong arms and allowed you to let go. He knew you were deeply wounded, your emotions in disarray and your mental stability in peril. But Suguru never asked anything from you, he gave you the strength to go on. To take care of yourself, to keep going with your career. To have… hope.

It seemed like a dream to think that your life had changed so much in the span of a year. You weren’t able to recognise yourself anymore. Pain and duress molded you into someone new, better, more resilient, harder to hurt.

At this point, the only person you fully trusted was Suguru, he was always honest with you, no matter what happened or how much something hurt, he always remained true to himself and to you.

It was impossible not to love someone like him. He was the whole package.

Suguru was handsome, that was indisputable. But Geto was more than a pretty face. He was kind, truly kind! He did things out of the goodness of his heart, not because he expected anything in return. He was honest, Suguru Geto would never lie to you and THAT is what you loved the most about him.

He was patient.

He wanted you to be his but at the same time Suguru wanted you to heal, to have the chance to trust and love again, not as a means to forget about Satoru but because you wanted to choose a new path for yourself.

After diner you helped with the dishes and then settled on the couch. Suguru joined with a smile and two glasses of wine. He handed you one and sipped on the other one “what would you like to watch tonight Kitten?” He asked sitting next to you while picking a movie from the titles available on the screen of the tv.

“Anything you like! It’s your turn to pick” you said with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder making Suguru smile. These tender displays of affection always made him feel so warm. Passing an arm around your shoulders he kissed your forehead.

You look up into his hazel eyes you blush. Suguru didn’t lose a second before he closed the space between your lips. The kiss was soft but meaningful, you didn’t hesitate to return it; wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to then climb on his lap straddling his hips.

The handsome sorcerer leans back, relaxing and running his hands slowly up and down your naked thighs covered only by the small fabric of your shorts, he strokes them softly leaving a path of warmth in the wake of his touch. Suguru deepened the kiss. His tongue delved in your mouth, slowly inviting yours to join the delicious dance. After a few minutes you pulled back, you are breathless. Your heart beats fast and the adrenaline was making you dizzy in anticipation.

Suguru looks at you, leaning his forehead against yours “I missed you” he ads before engulfing you in another passionate kiss, not even giving you the chance to reply. This time his lips are more demanding, his teeth nibbling your lower lip, requesting entrance. His tongue still tastes like the wine and you recognize his addictive flavor. Suddenly you find yourself laying on your back on the white couch, Suguru is on top of you and your legs are wrapped around his waist. Things are getting much more heated than you anticipated. Your hands roam the expanse of his back over hard muscles and warm skin covered only by the thin layer of his t-shirt. You know if you keep going this way you won’t be able to stop.

https://youtu.be/yBatuRGZAmA

A part of you doesn’t want this to end, you want to go all the way with Suguru. But… as much as you hate it, there is a tiny part of you that feels ambivalent about it. You wonder why is that you can’t just… do it!? You want Suguru! God! You desire him more than you can express with words, the growing wetness between your legs is evidence that you indeed were very much sexually attracted to him and yet your mind kept torturing you.

It was… complicated.

Your marriage with Satoru have been over longer than that piece of paper you got last week said. But erasing your feelings wasn’t something you could ever hope to do.

As much as you wanted to give yourself to Suguru it felt wrong that you were holding a part of yourself back. You wanted to give him everything, he deserved EVERYTHING of you. It wouldn’t be fair to just have sex with him when he deserved to be made love to.

You love Suguru, everyday that goes by your feelings for him grow and intensify, it was hard to even understand why would you hesitate and yet you did.

Your passionate kiss slowly becomes more tender until you are just sharing small pecks. Suguru pulls back with a little comforting smile; he felt the change in your body language, he knew what was going through your mind. You explained it to him before and he didn’t want to push you. He knew you needed to go at your own pace and he respected that.

“I’m… so-“ you starts apologetically but Suguru stops you with a little kiss “don’t… don’t apologize, I know baby…” he said reassuringly. Sealing his tender words with a kiss. When you separate again he asks “Alright little kitten, tell me… what’s it gonna be? ‘Dorian Grey’ or ‘Only Lovers Left Alive’?” Pulling you in his strong arms he cuddled with you on the couch, returning to the choices for movie you had.

You were so thankful for this man in your life “let’s go with ‘Only Lovers left Alive’”

With a last kiss he started the movie and pulled a blanket over you both.

He could wait, he would wait till the end of time. For you.

———-> Chapter 13/Part 1

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[weirwoodking]

How do you feel about show!tormund?

I’ll just post these two excerpts of Tormund from ASOIAF, I feel like that should be enough to show how I feel about that character they made him into in the show.

Jon had to laugh. “You never change.”

“Oh, I do.” The grin melted away like snow in summer. “I am not the man I was at Ruddy Hall. Seen too much death, and worse things too. My sons…” Grief twisted Tormund’s face. “Dormund was cut down in the battle for the Wall, and him still half a boy. One o’ your king’s knights did for him, some bastard all in grey steel with moths upon his shield. I saw the cut, but my boy was dead before I reached him. And Torwynd…it was the cold claimed him. Always sickly, that one. He just up and died one night. The worst o’ it, before we ever knew he’d died he rose pale with them blue eyes. Had to see to him m’self. That was hard, Jon.” Tears shone in his eyes. “He wasn’t much of a man, truth be told, but he’d been me little boy once, and I loved him.”

Jon put a hand on his shoulder. “I am so sorry.”

“Why? Weren’t your doing. There’s blood on your hands, aye, same as mine. But not his.” Tormund shook his head. “I still have two strong sons.”

—Jon XI, ADWD

“Tormund,” Jon said, as they watched four old women pull a cartful of children toward the gate, “tell me of our foe. I would know all there is to know of the Others.”

The wildling rubbed his mouth. “Not here,” he mumbled, “not this side o’ your Wall.” The old man glanced uneasily toward the trees in their white mantles. “They’re never far, you know. They won’t come out by day, not when that old sun’s shining, but don’t think that means they went away. Shadows never go away. Might be you don’t see them, but they’re always clinging to your heels.”

“Did they trouble you on your way south?”

“They never came in force, if that’s your meaning, but they were with us all the same, nibbling at our edges. We lost more outriders than I care to think about, and it was worth your life to fall behind or wander off. Every nightfall we’d ring our camps with fire. They don’t like fire much, and no mistake. When the snows came, though…snow and sleet and freezing rain, it’s bloody hard to find dry wood or get your kindling lit, and the cold…some nights our fires just seemed to shrivel up and die. Nights like that, you always find some dead come the morning. ’Less they find you first. The night that Torwynd…my boy, he …” Tormund turned his face away.

“I know,” said Jon Snow.

Tormund turned back. “You know nothing. You killed a dead man, aye, I heard. Mance killed a hundred. A man can fight the dead, but when their masters come, when the white mists rise up…how do you fight a mist, crow? Shadows with teeth…air so cold it hurts to breathe, like a knife inside your chest…you do not know, you cannot know…can your sword cut cold?”

—Jon XII, ADWD

So I think that should be enough to explain how I feel about show!Tormund.

However, there is this post from Lee that I think is hilarious, though, because yeah.

[imagine-organization-xiii]

Organization XIII - With an S/O Who’s Prone to Crying

Suggested by: rue on discord, ily

NOTE: This one was done by my babe PhantomMuze, who popped this out of NOWHERE as soon as rue suggested the prompt - she gave me permission to post when I said how much I loved it.

-

Xemnas - This guy is literally the worst to cry to. He's emotionally distant and not a very comforting person...but, that's what helps you in a weird way? You'll tell him what's been bothering you and he'll listen, and his cold-hearted responses help you gain control of your senses. It's not the romantic fluffy comfort you're hoping for, but the stability really helps.

Xigbar - Give him names and he's on his way to...handle some things. Xigbar isn't good at handling tears, but god help the person that made you cry. You'll cry, and he'll leave and come back and say, "Don't worry. I got it." You'll be confused on what "I got it" means, but Xigbar will just say to not worry about it.

Xaldin - Like Xigbar, he's on his way to handle some things...but with spears. When he returns, he brings back something warm or soft for you to hold while you cry. If you need anything else, Xaldin's got you covered. Very supportive, 10/10, a comforting person.

Vexen - "Please stop crying. No seriously, if you keep crying like this, you'll [starts listing off medical things that happen]." After getting you to stop crying and listening to your plight, Vexen's starts listing the pros and cons on why things happened and what to do about it. You'd expect nothing else from the icy scientist and his logic helps you back to stability.

Lexaeus - As soon as you sniffle, Lexaeus is at your side. Do you need a hug? Do you need to be carried? Do you want to eat something to make you feel better? Lexaeus has it. He does more listening than talking, which is okay since you have a lot to get off your chest. Best comforting person ever~

Zexion - He's basically Xemnas, but worse. He's not sure how to handle your crying and would probably ask Xaldin or Lexaeus for help; but he tries. He'll probably get you your favorite thing to eat and try to find a solution for your problems.

Saix - This man either will tell you to get over it or is going to rip someone to pieces. He's not exactly comforting, but his cathartic approach helps. The amount of energy you two spent punching or destroying something helps you relieve some stress.

Axel - Not sure how to handle you're tears, to be honest. He listens and gives feedback, and tells you to get some rest. In the meanwhile, Axel's off scheming how to get rid of your discomforts. He never really liked doing icky jobs, but for you...he's down.

Demyx - Probably one of the better people to cry to because he gets it. The both of you are probably bawling your eyes out together. Demyx's feels your pain and will end up playing a song for you. Afterwards, you guys are probably getting something to eat. Crying is hungry work.

Luxord - Calming tea and tarot readings. Luxord brews you a pot full of a tea of your choice and offers to read your future, if that's what you turn to during stressful times. If neither of those work for you, then his suave personality can help heal your confidence. He'll have you smiling in no time

Marluxia - The two of you head to his garden and take a stroll among the flowers. The sight distracts you from your misery and you find yourself calming down. Marluxia's goal is to rebuild your confidence, so he'll tell you everything good about you, shit talk the thing that made you cry, and weave you a flower crown to get you smiling again.

Larxene - XII is both comforting and terrifying. You're crying? Say no more! Larxene is out to electrocute everything that made you cry. And when she's done, she's gonna tell you to shut up because your face is ugly. Then, the two of you are going to talk shit about anything and everything because it's fun~ 

Roxas - You're definitely getting ice cream because ice cream fixes everything, right? Roxas isn't good at handling tears either, but he's a good soundboard for you. He may not understand your stress, not really, but the boy understands pain. If anything, he's a good shoulder to cry on.

Xion - HUUUGGGSSS! ALL THE HUGS! Hug her, hug a plushie, hug a pillow, hug her again. Xion will probably cry along side you because she’s a sympathetic crier, but as long as you two are hugging, everything will be okay.

[adarlingwrites]

Dormouse

Summary:

After playing a game with two of The Beach's most dangerous members, the dormouse gets her tail caught by a tiger's paw.

He’ll make a wildcat out of her.

Author’s Notes:

CW: sexist language, blood, parental abuse. This is a heavy chapter, please proceed with caution.

XII

the earth will see our eyes go blank tonight / the earth will rot away go blank tonight / I, I really wish these snakes were your arms

Soft snores float from the back of the truck, and Hinata does her best not turn around and stare.

Yamaneko had fallen asleep, her body curled up next to Last Boss’. The taller militant is resting his chin on top of her head, a protective arm around her waist. Their backs are turned from the other two occupying the front seats.

The taller militant glances at them with near-murderous intent when Tatta hits a bump on the road and wakes Yamaneko up. She rubs the sleep from her eyes, glances at Last Boss, then feels an overwhelming urge to puke her breakfast out.

Pale, the militant hangs her head over the edge of the four by four, and hurls.

“Stop the car,” Last Boss tells Tatta, who hits the brakes and looks at the female militant with concern. Hinata couldn’t help but look as well, watching as the terrifying militant rubbed his girlfriend’s back.

Coughing, Yamaneko turns to the driver. “Could you drive more carefully? Shit…”

“Sorry, I’ll drive more carefully,” Tatta blurts, bowing his head low in apology. He can still feel Last Boss’ death glare burning the back of his head as he restarts the engine.

Somewhat concerned for the nicer militant’s wellbeing, Hinata tosses them a water bottle, which Last Boss catches with one hand. Drinking from the water bottle slowly, Yamaneko gives the other girl a thumbs up.

Slumping against the backseat, HInata is still coming to terms with the fact that these armed and dangerous maniacs are still people who can have attachments.

She then starts to wonder if the militants at the back were anything like who they are now. The Borderlands does seem to bring either the best or the worst out of people, after all. Was Last Boss always an eccentric guy prone to violence, and was Yamaneko always a blunt gal with no regard for social norms?

The street artist takes a sharp inhale in contemplation, and regrets doing so as soon as the damp, earthy scent hits her. Rolling down a window, Hinata pokes her head out of the car, unable to stand the smell of sex and sweat from the militants at the back, and chuckles to herself.

“What’s so funny?” Tatta asks, a hand on the steering wheel and eyes still on the road.

“The car smells like sex and now I’m wondering if I should take her advice.”

“A-ah. Well, it’s your choice,” Tatta replies, his free hand scratching the back of his head.

“What about you, Tatta? Ever thought of sleeping around in the Beach?”

A small laugh escapes his lips. “Not really my thing, sorry. I prefer spending my time fixing cars and goofing around with my friends.”

“Mm, that does sound better. I enjoyed painting that mural with you, by the way. We should-”

A voice who belongs to neither of them cuts their conversation short. “Keep it down.”

Both of them nearly jumped upon hearing Last Boss’ voice. The militant is staring at them with mild hostility, his lover’s head still resting on his shoulder. “You’re going to wake her up again.”

“Right, sorry!” Tatta blurts, then he turns away from him, cold sweat on his forehead. Hinata tries her best to stifle a giggle. There’s something she finds humorous about seeing the enigmatic and frightening Last Boss cuddling with a sleeping girl and shushing people for her sake.

The two in the front remained quiet for the rest of the drive back, their knees bumping together.

The car came to a halt as they arrived. Gently, Last Boss shakes his lover awake, who drowsily mumbles something incoherent as she stretches. The group was unloading their haul when Aguni approached them, a grim expression on his face. Niragi and another militant followed closely behind.

Hinata flinches upon seeing the man with the pierced face, who closes in on her, trapping her against the side of the four by four. Tatta glares at him with wide eyes, feet plastered to the ground and too afraid to move. Niragi whispers something inaudible to the rest of the people present, which makes Hinata shrink further into the warm metal of the car.

To the street artist’s relief, Yamaneko gets in between them and pushes Niragi off nonchalantly as she walks towards the chief. She didn’t hear the quick “thank you” that bubbled from HInata’s throat, who slinked off to the back of the vehicle to hide.

“The hell is your problem?”

“You’re rolling your tongue out like a cartoon wolf again. You look like shit,” Yamaneko replies, smirking and flipping her side fringe as she turns away from Niragi.

“You smell like shit. You smell like a damn brothel,” Niragi yells after her, and she raises a single middle finger in response.

Niragi sneered, his fun for the day ruined, and he stood next to Last Boss.

“Shit, Last Boss, you too,” Niragi remarks as he caught a whiff of Last Boss’ scent, fanning the air with his hand. “Wait, is that dried sweat I’m smelling from your face or- you fucking dog,” Niragi adds, giving him a devious grin.

The tattooed militant rolls his eyes and doesn’t dignify Niragi’s teasing with a reply. He couldn’t hide the smug look on his face, though. Aguni frowns at their juvenile exchange, and pushes past Niragi.

“Enough. Where the hell were you two?” Aguni asks, voice low and full of disappointment. The chief looks at Last Boss and Yamaneko, and one can compare him to a father scolding children who snuck away past their curfew.

“Easy, chief. We just went on a double date with those newbies,” Yamaneko replies, smiling as she motioned to Hinata and Tatta. Her smile turns to a wicked grin upon seeing Niragi’s jealous expression.

That was Tatta and Hinata’s cue to run away as far as they can from the scene.

Before Niragi can confront the two of them, Aguni gives him a glare to remind him of why they’re here, and he begrudgingly stays in place. Then, he turns back to the pair. “We thought the two of you dropped dead somewhere.”

“Dropped dead? I- chief, what happened while we were gone?”

“This isn’t something we should be talking about in the open. You two, come with us,” Aguni responds. Gulping, Yamaneko gives Last Boss a worried gaze, who stands a little closer to the shorter militant.

Dread settling in her gut, Yamaneko found herself in the makeshift morgue again, where several bodies lay on separate gurneys. Aside from the Beach executives, there were several other people in the room, including a few familiar faces. Kuina and Chishiya are present, as well as Sunohara, who acknowledges her with a nod. Ann looks at the militants with a grim frown, and takes off her shades.

“We have limited equipment here in the Beach, but thanks to Sunohara’s help, we were able to determine that the victims’ hearts, brains, and kidneys are damaged. This might be a poisoning case,” Ann announces as she walks towards them.

“Do you think this is the same killer from before?” Aguni asks, stepping towards one of the corpses. He lift’s the dead man’s arm, and sees his number tag. Seventeen; just one rank away from Yamaneko.

“It’s possible. The suspect might’ve caught up with our attempts to investigate and switched methods. Plus, I think we have a motive now.”

Yamaneko turns to the taller woman, brows furrowed.

“Is there any reason why I should be here?” she asks, heart racing.

“That’s where the motive comes in. The player numbers of the people who were killed were in the top thirty. Twenty nine, twenty three, nineteen, seventeen, and twelve. One of the victims was even a member of Aguni’s martial sect. Whoever did this is eliminating higher ranked players. If you hadn't left this afternoon, you might have been a target. From the clues we have so far, someone who’s very desperate to leave the Beach must be behind this.”

“Then we need to put an end to this, fast,” Mira finally speaks up. “It’s only a matter of time before this person targets someone on the executive board.”

“I think I know who this person is…” Niragi scoffs. “It’s definitely Yamaneko’s asshole dad.”

Head whipping towards Niragi, Yamaneko folds her arms in skepticism, about to say something, but ultimately choosing to close her mouth. Hatter uses the silence as an opportunity to impart his observations.

“Come to think of it… whenever he turns in his cards from a game, he’s often the sole survivor.”

“Are you saying that he killed the other players to receive sole credit for the card?” Kuina speaks up from her corner. Beside her, Chishiya gives the executives a knowing smirk. “It’s a possibility.”

Aguni turns to the daughter of the suspect, who’s sweating bullets. “You said it yourself that you think that the man is capable of being violent with anyone. What do you think?” he asks.

“Hm. Your father is CEO of a company that provided services to this hotel before we all ended up here, am I correct?” Ann asks, circling Yamaneko now. “What kind of goods did they manufacture?” she adds.

“Yamacorp is an industrial manufacturer with a focus on chemical manufacturing.” Yamaneko replies.

“Was your father knowledgeable about the goods his company creates, or does he only manage the business side of things?” Ann asks, the conversation effectively turning into an impromptu interrogation.

“Father oversees the factory from time to time since he has a background in chemistry.”

Ann frowns. “Then there’s a high possibility that he is involved. One of the household poisons that can cause such damage is antifreeze.”

Lips trembling and thoughts racing her head a mile a minute, Yamaneko grimaces. “Are there any other suspects?”

“The only people with access to potentially hazardous chemicals in the Beach are the supply runners, medics, or the militants.”

Niragi rolls his eyes and points his rifle at his fellow executive member. “Are you accusing us of killing one of our own, Ann?”

“No. I’m just saying that it’s a possibility. We need to test the victims’ urine for calcium oxalate crystals, gather fingerprints, gather more witness accounts-”

Niragi interrupts with sarcastic clapping. “That plan’s just perfect, but you’re not in a damn forensic lab anymore, Ann.”

“Let’s just kill him,” Last Boss pipes up. At his suggestion, Yamaneko turns to glare at him.

In the corner, Chishiya chuckles and folds his arms. “Idiots,” he mutters under his breath, earning him a sour look from Niragi. Kuina observes the two of them, then turns her attention to the Hatter, who takes a few steps across the room.

“Niragi has a point. Ann’s methods would take too much time. The Beach is well equipped, but we don’t have everything,” the number one quips.

“We need to extract information any way we can,” Aguni adds.

“Then let’s beat it out of him,” Last Boss suggests.

Yamaneko begins to stammer, unable to come up with words in response to her fellow militants’ suggestions. “I- he-”

“What’s the matter, Yamaneko? Don’t tell me you feel sorry for that piece of shit. You’re sounding like that mousy little girl we picked up again,” Niragi asks, looking cross.

“I just think that beating someone into submission would only make them admit something they didn’t do,” the shorter militant says.

“She’s right,” Ann adds, placing a hand on her hip. “We need to lure the truth out of him.”

“How troublesome,” Last Boss mutters. “Beating him up is more straightforward.”

This time, Yamaneko frowns. “That’s what he did to me, and it always ended with me confessing to things I didn’t do just for the pain to stop.” His lover’s admission made the tattooed militant pause for a moment, throat dry, and Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed his own spit.

“Then do it to get back at him. Don’t you want to?”

At that point, Yamaneko’s hands are sweating, her voice inaudible to anyone but her lover. “I want to, but…”

“We’re not going to get anywhere with this,” Chishiya speaks up, leaving his corner and stepping under the harsh lights of the room. “The suspect isn’t even in this room for interrogation, and we’re not even sure if anyone is competent enough to manipulate the truth out of him. I know I can’t be bothered with it.”

“Then the next best thing would be for a Heart specialist to manipulate him into admitting his involvement, yes?” Mira suggests, grinning as she paces to the shortest militant in the room. Yamaneko’s throat is a dry river on a hot day, and her heart hammers against her ribcage.

“I’d do it myself, but being approached by an executive member would betray our intentions to him. We need someone who can rouse strong emotions out of him… provoke him and make him irrational. Make him blurt out a confession.”

Mira gasps excitedly, making eye contact with Yamaneko. “Ah! Why don’t you try it, Miss Yamane? You know him better than anyone else in the Beach.”

“It’s Yamaneko. I’m not a heart player.”

“You give yourself too little credit,” Mira croons.

“This has gone on for too long. We’ll bring in Mr. Yamane for interrogation later.” Ann crosses her arms. “Hatter, should we adjourn?”

Unsettling feelings pool in Yamaneko’s gut, staring blankly ahead as the meeting ends. She brings her hands to her face, groaning as a wave of tension wrapped itself around her head, and feeling vaguely nauseous. Aguni approaches his underling, his frown deeper than usual, betraying the sliver of concern he feels for the girl.

“How do you plan to deal with this?”

Yamaneko shakes her head, and hangs it low. “I honestly don’t know. My relationship with father is strained, but I still can’t wrap my head around the possibility of him being a serial killer of some sort.”

“You’ve experienced his cruelty first hand, am I right? Trust your own experiences with him.”

The chief’s words make her look him in the eye, a wordless understanding forming between the two.

“I’ll seek you out when I decide what to do, chief.”

Aguni nods and leaves without another word. Lover close by, the younger militant retreats to the rooftop, where no one can bother the two of them. In silence, Takatora observes her. Across the horizon, the sun is slowly setting, and the sky is painted with hues of pinks and oranges.

“I’m going to go on a game with my father,” Yamaneko finally says, eyes fixed on the setting sun.

“I’ll come with you,” her lover replies, bumping shoulders with her. The shorter militant sighs, scratching her head. “You can’t, Tora.”

“He’ll hurt you.”

His sight doesn’t leave her as she stands up to pace around. “Father’s afraid of you, I can tell. He wouldn’t dare to interact with me if you’re around. I have to do this alone.”

“Just settle for the other solution. My method.”

“I want to hear it from his mouth. I want to see him shoot his own damn foot. I need that satisfaction, Takatora.” She sits back down, and holds his hand, fingers entwined with his spindly ones. “If my method fails, let’s use yours.”

Cold fingers touching her face, Takatora turns her head and kisses her. It was short, and uncharacteristically tender. “You’re worried,” Yamaneko breathes, the warmth of the kiss still lingering on her lips. “I’m your wildcat, tiger. A frumpy old man doesn’t stand a chance against me.”

This time, Takatora kisses her with more hunger, his hand leaving hers to cradle her neck. “I’ll come to your game venue as soon as I’m finished with mine.”

His lover breaks the kiss to whisper something in his ear, chin resting on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The heavens are a deep blue now, the sun gone.

“I’ll go tell the chief about the plan so he can inform the other executives,” Yamaneko mumbles, watching the clouds roll by.

Another night of games are about to begin.

As Yamaneko enters the elevator to descend to the lobby, a tan hand holds the doors open. HInata steps in, keeping a safe distance between herself and the woman armed with tactical daggers.

“Hey.” Hinata tosses something to her, and the militant catches it. “You left those in the back earlier.” Yamaneko’s body went rigid as she looked at the item; her packet of birth control.

She missed several days.

“I- thanks.”

Yamaneko couldn’t pay any attention to what the other girl is saying as paranoia gets the best of her.

“Surely, I’ve been feeling tired for the past few days because of the chief knocking me on my ass during training and not because Tora knocked me up, right? I’m nauseous during the car ride because Tatta wasn’t driving carefully, right? I’ve been feeling emotional because of the stress from the Beach serial killer case and the big possibility of father being that nutcase, right?”

“Right?”

“Hey, um, are you there?”

Hinata’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and she clears her throat. “What did you say again?”

“I said thanks for getting Niragi off my back.” Hinata scratches her head. “Look, um, I know you’re one of them, but you’re alright. Say, what if we work out a deal of some sort?”

“What kind of deal, newbie?”

“You keep Niragi off my ass, I’ll get you whatever the hell you want. Promise. I’ll be your personal procurement gal.”

Yamaneko chuckles. “Hm. Why the hell not? Hell, come with me in a game tonight. I’m sure I can ask the chief a favor to group you with me. I’ll show you the ropes.” In return, Hinata gives her a genuine smile. “Sure.”

As they walked together to the lobby, Hinata couldn’t help but stare at Yamaneko. She’s short, probably the shortest member of the militia, and her hair’s a mess of uneven cuts at the back. The red highlights on her bangs and fringe are somewhat faded, and her dark makeup looks pristine at the moment, unlike when she found her getting bent over a desk by her boyfriend a few hours earlier.

“If you don’t mind talking about it, how did you end up in the militia?”

“I encountered Last Boss and Niragi in a game and they took an interest in me. I dropped my wallet, they found my address, and they whisked me away.” Yamaneko pauses, looking at HInata with slight concern. “Are you sure you’re ready to hear what I’m about to say about Niragi, though?”

‘You’ve pretty much told me earlier that he’s a sleazeball now. I can take it.”

“Well, I was one of the girls he screwed upon arrival. I just… learned to tolerate it to survive. He stopped touching me after I stopped reacting to him. Or maybe because Last Boss told him that he wanted me to himself. I’m not sure anymore.”

“A-are you really suggesting I just give in and just let him have his way with me?!”

“What the- Of course not. But it’s an option if you want your life on the Beach to get easier. Or maybe you can ask that friend of yours to pretend to be your boyfriend, but I doubt he’s the type of guy Niragi will respect.”

Face contorted in anger and indignation, Hinata stammers. “I don’t know what’s more fucked, that he won’t leave a woman alone unless she’s the girlfriend of someone more dangerous than him, or that you don’t give a shit that Niragi’s-”

When Yamaneko grabs her by the shoulders and slams her against the wall, the other girl is reminded that she’s still an armed and dangerous member of the militia.

“Let’s get a few things straight here: First, I don’t fucking appreciate you putting words in my mouth. Second, I’m just telling you how I survived Niragi. The fact that I accepted your deal is me extending my help. So, don’t push your luck with me, newbie. I can still change my mind about this and throw you to the wolves.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

With that, Yamaneko lets go.

“C’mon, we have a game to play.”

As the slips of paper were being handed out, Last Boss and Yamaneko looked for each other’s eyes across the sea of people, and they gave each other one last look of longing as they went on with their respective groups for the night.

Yamaneko and Hinata receive their assignment, and the former’s face lights up when she sees Sunohara approaching. Silently, she thanks Aguni for heeding her favor of letting her choose her teammates tonight. The chief knows she has a plan. Not long after, Mr. Yamane approaches, glances at his daughter, and turns away, entering the back of the car.

Intentionally, Yamaneko sits in the back as well, while Sunohara rides shotgun, the wind tousling her chestnut bob, with Hinata on the wheel. The car ride is tense and quiet, wind howling as the car speeds through the empty streets of Tokyo.

Nervous, with beads of sweat on her forehead, Yamaneko felt nauseous again, rolling down the window to hurl.

“You alright?” the doctor asks, looking at her through the rear view mirror. Yamaneko nods and leans back on the car seat, keeping her head tilted upwards. From the corner of his eye, Mr. Yamane watches his estranged daughter, expression inscrutable.

The car screeches to a halt as they arrive at their destination: Tokyo Zoo.

Yamaneko regards the place, solemn expression on her face.

Her childhood days weren't always filled with hurtful words and beatings. On some days, on the off chance that Mr. Yamane took a day off, he’d bring her with her mother and sister here. But that all halted when he took his father’s place as CEO. Still, Yamaneko thinks the glimpses of familial happiness doesn’t outweigh the horrible things he did to little Minami, Mai, and his deceased wife.

“Of course this just had to be the fucking venue,” she thinks, slamming the car door shut.

One by one, the Beach members picked up the smartphones from the table, facial recognition registering them as participants, and followed the arrows to the game arena.

The synthetic voice most people dreaded breaks the silence. “Registration closed. There are currently four players. Difficulty: Six of Hearts.”

“Another Heart? Just my luck,” Sunohara sighs, rubbing her arms with her palms. Yamaneko inhales deeply, eyeing the new girl, then her father. “Ever played a Heart before, Hinata?” the militant asks her.

“No.”

“Then you’re in for a lesson.”

The doctor takes out a cigarette from her coat and lights it up, visibly anxious. “Heart games play with your heart and mess with your head. They’re the nastiest games out there.”

Judging the Beach veterans’ reactions, Hinata knew she was in deep shit. Mr. Yamane looks visibly distressed too, sweat beading on his balding head and soaking his dress shirt.

On a circular table are four snake tanks, the glass covered by an opaque fabric so the inside isn’t visible to the viewer, with a hole large enough for a hand to fit in on top. In the middle of the table is a syringe, a vial of unknown substance, and a scalpel.

“Game: Antidote. Rules: Two out of four boxes contain a live Gloydius blomhoffii, better known as the mamushi, one of the most venomous snakes in Japan. Each player must simultaneously stick a hand in a box and keep it in for five seconds. Players who haven’t been bitten by the snake must decide who deserves the antidote. Time limit: None.”

A hiss coming from the direction of the boxes is enough to confirm that they do indeed contain live snakes. The echo of the arena makes it hard to determine from which boxes it came from.

“Fuck. Fuck this,” Hinata mutters, legs shaking.

“Don’t tell me you’re running away,” Yamaneko quips. “You have a better chance of surviving if you stick your hand in as opposed to getting struck down by a laser.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Mr. Yamane interrupts, choosing a box of his own. “Stop stalling and get your hands in.”

Rolling her eyes, Yamaneko drags Hinata to the box beside her, and she takes her spot as well. Sunohara gets ready as hell, psyching herself up as she rolled up her coat’s sleeves.

“On three,” the doctor says. “One, two, three!”

All participants stick their respective hands in. Yamaneko chose her left arm, given how it’s in poor shape in comparison to her right one, and she tries to make her movement as slow as possible. Maybe the snake wouldn’t bite her if she doesn’t disturb it.

Unfortunately for her, Mr. Yamane exclaims as he feels fangs pierce his skin, and the snake in Yamaneko’s box gets startled as well, its teeth sinking into the flesh of her forefinger.

Heart hammering in her chest, Yamaneko pulls her hand out from the box and curses as she sees a droplet of blood on her finger. “Shit! Why the hell did you have to scream like that?!”

The ex-CEO hisses. “Shut up! You never learn your lesson, do you? Still talking to your father like that, have some respect!”

At the revelation that the two are related, Hinata’s eyes widened. “He’s your father?”

“Yes. We’re not exactly on good terms, as you can see,” Yamaneko sighs, trying to squeeze the venom from her finger. Sunohara strides to the table, retrieving the medical supplies. Then, the doctor touches the militia woman’s hand to stop her. “Don’t. Squeezing it would only make it spread. It needs to be excised, and then we need to inject you with anti-venom.”

A coarse hand grabs the doctor’s arm, causing her to gasp in pain. Mr. Yamane is giving the tall woman a furious glare. “Wait a damn minute! You sound like you’ve already decided to give her the antidote. What about me?! Huh? You’re a doctor of some sort, right? Who gives you the right to decide-”

HInata separates him from the doctor, her stance defensive. “Are you seriously going to let your own kid die so you can live? What kind of father are you?!” the tan-skinned girl exclaims in disbelief.

“Probably the type who kills people to advance his Beach tag,” Yamaneko quips, putting her own game into motion.

“Says the woman who brandishes daggers and gives her pussy away to murderers,” Mr. Yamane barked back. “You’ll be wasting the antidote if you give it to someone like her. I have a decent daughter and an infant son to come back to in the real world! Give the antidote to me!”

“Oh my God, you know you’re not helping your case at all by calling her those awful things, right?” Hinata quips, both hands on her hips.

A bitter laugh bubbles from Yamaneko’s throat, underscored with light pain as her hand starts to swell from the snake venom. “But the daughter in front of you doesn’t deserve to live? Tell me father, who else didn’t deserve to live?” Voice cracking, Yamaneko is screaming at that point. “We know it’s you. You killed those people in the Beach. You’re so desperate to go back to your cushy life as CEO, huh?!”

“You know what? Fine, it was me! You know I’d do anything to survive, Minami. That’s what I taught you as well!”

As the venom spreads through their system, the estranged father daughter pair escalates their quarrel, with the daughter striding towards the father to grab him by the collar.

“And yet you judged me for doing what I can to survive when you kicked me out. You judged me for getting caught giving men your age handjobs and blowjobs under the table. You judged me for stealing when I had nothing else.” Head spinning and tears pooling in the corner of her eyes, Yamaneko’s voice completely breaks as she utters a cry.

“You turned Mai against me. You poisoned your children against each other. You don’t deserve to be called a father.”

A slim, gentle hand pulls her away from the old man. Sunohara is giving her a sympathetic look. “We don’t have much time. Hinata and I decided you should get the antidote. You won’t be out of the woods yet after we administer the antivenom, too, so let’s move.”

The ex-heiress lets go of the Yamacorp CEO, cathartic, laughing and crying at the same time.

When she looked down as she tried to walk, however, the smile disappeared from her face. Blood stains her thighs, and the crotch of her bikini feels warm and wet. “This is embarrassing,” she croaks, and Sunohara merely chuckles at her predicament as she sits her down. Hinata stays right beside her new friend, if she can call Yamaneko that, offering her a shoulder to lean on.

Antivenom fills the syringe as Sunohara extracted it from the bottle. “Let’s administer the antidote, and I’ll get you some pads for your period when we get back on the Beach, huh? Maybe we can get help for your fa-”

Whatever Sunohara was about to say was replaced by a scream as she watched Mr. Yamane charged towards them with a dagger.

Deranged, delirious, Mr. Yamane stabbed his own daughter with her own weapon, the blade sinking in her gut. Squelching sounds and Yamaneko’s scream of agony echoed in the open space, accompanied by Hinata and Sunohara’s own shrieks of terror. Withdrawing the knife, Mr. Yamane threw it aside, and reached for the antidote.

Before the needle can plunge into his skin, a laser fires from the sky, cutting his life short in an instant.

Wide and wet with tears, Yamaneko’s eyes didn’t leave her father’s as she watched his final moments. Beside her, Hinata is shaking and covered with the militant's blood, while Sunohara is breathing heavily, still in shock.

The gravity of the situation sinks in when Sunohara hears Yamaneko whimper beside her.

“Help me.”

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Chapter Fifty-One

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: Happy Holidays fuckers

A/N: also trigger warning for Nik's pos dad, and,,,,, nah i think that's it. Enjoy <3

Not a day after Lev was officially banished, Biela showed up. She was brisk, not even giving Lev the chance to acknowledge the two people she’d brought along. He was to be on house arrest, enforced by a spell that the witch she’d brought along would place on him. The fact that he was allowed up to fifty feet away from the house caught him by surprise; he’d fully expected to be confined to the inside. At least this way he could follow the kids in the pool or out into the yard, though Biela had made it clear he wasn’t to be outside alone.

She’d concluded this meeting by warning Lev that the house arrest would last until he proved he wasn’t a security risk. That meant Lev needed to learn how to defend himself, to Biela’s standards.

Lev understood. There was no third chance. If Lev got killed by a demon, it’d be detrimental to Cameron’s functioning. Not to mention Lev wasn’t sure how he’d handle being kidnapped by one. All of that aside he did want to know how to protect his children.

Biela had left with the witch when it was all done. The man she’d brought, who Lev learned was her brother Caius, stuck around long enough to exchange a few words with them, though Lev got the feeling it was more to get a good feel for who Lev was as a person than anything else.

Once all that was done and over with, Lev realized he still had a full day. Cameron had Eden, and Lev didn’t have the energy to fight him while Cameron reestablished his schedule. Instead, Lev ventured downstairs, something else on his mind.

He found Sazra in her room, like he’d expected. He knocked on the doorway when she didn’t look up right away, but having her silver eyes pinning him in place didn’t exactly put him at ease.

“Hi,” he said lamely, unsure of where to start.

“Can I help you?” she clipped out.

“I hope so,” Lev said, trying not to fidget. “I wanted to ask you about suppressants. I don’t know if demon suppressants will work for me, or if I need to get angelic suppressants, but-”

“And you’re asking me why?”

Lev blinked. “Because you’re a healer?” He said hesitantly. “I figured you out of everyone in the house would know about the way I’d react to demonic suppressants.”

Sazra lifted a brow. “Why would you think that when you think your healing is superior to mine?”

Oh. Lev fidgeted for a moment, before, “I’m not versed in medicine,” he started, and then hesitated. “If I’ve offended you...” He trailed off, looking for the right words. “It’s what I was taught,” he finally said, honestly. “And I never stopped to check my bias. I just parroted what I've been told for my entire life. I didn’t think about it at all.”

“I can see that. It’s rather arrogant of you.”

Lev didn’t think he’d ever been called arrogant before in his life. She wasn’t wrong though. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “It was.”

“Hm.” She thrummed her long nails against the wooden table, but didn’t offer any more words other than that.

Lev stared at her for a long time, unsure of what to say. In the end, he said simply, “Can I try to make amends? I was out of line.”

Her nails clicked on the table. “I’ll help you. Not because you apologized, but because Cameron is my boss and I owe him my life. Anything else?”

“No,” Lev said. “Thank you.” He paused halfway out the door, and turned back. “I haven’t had a heat in about a month and a half. If that helps anything?”

“I am aware. You can go now.”

Lev took that dismissal and slipped back upstairs.

---

After some searching, Lev found Nik in the back with Eden. He had her in the pool, in a cute black swimsuit with pink polka dots and ruffles. Eden was screaming happily as she splashed Nik. Lev padded to the edge of the pool, sitting down and dropping his feet in the water.

“Hi,” Lev said, smiling slightly.

Nik paddled over, dragging a giggling Eden with him. “I had to put sunscreen on her,” Nik said solemnly. “She probably burns faster than Cameron does.”

“Probably,” Lev agreed. He reached out, patting Nik’s hair. “Nik... do you want to talk about it? Any of it?”

“What part of dragging a screaming infant out to the pool suggests I want to talk about anything?”

Lev shrugged. “I thought I’d offer. We probably should eventually.”

Nik dunked under, though he kept Eden above the water. “Sure.”

“Are you okay?” Lev asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I have you, I have Eden, I have Cameron. Everything is going back to normal.”

“You’re pregnant, I’m exiled, and I told you I lost my pregnancy in the worst way possible.” Lev hesitated. “A lot has happened. And... it’s easier to worry about you than it is to deal with everything right now.”

“Well as you can see, I am the picture of health.”

“Physically, sure,” Lev agreed. “I don’t think anyone in this house is mentally healthy.”

“Hm. Well.” Nik moved Eden to his hip, not even blinking when she smacked his face. “Is that your professional opinion, Doctor Lev? I had not realized you had gotten a psychology degree in Ghost Land.”

“Nik, please,” Lev said softly, but he really didn’t have it in him to fight. In the end, he just gave a small sigh. “Fine. We can talk about it later.”

Nik went back to playing with Eden, so Lev splashed a foot lightly and watched Eden grabbing at the water. Lev would have been content to watch, but Nik grabbed his ankle. “Nik, don-”

Nik yanked Lev in the pool, clothes and all. After sputtering at Nik while Eden shrieked, first in surprise and then in delight, Lev glared at Nik. “I’m dressed.”

“Oh?” Nik said innocently.

Lev swatted his shoulder gently. “You could have let me go find a swimsuit. Now I’m soaked.”

Nik simply hummed. “Yeah... Oh well. Better luck next time.”

Lev huffed, and reached for Eden. “Give her over. I want a turn.”

“Mm. My baby,” Nik said, kissing Eden’s cheek. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Eden shrieked, grabbing at Nik’s hair. “See? All the ladies want me.”

Lev huffed, wading closer. He grabbed Nik’s sleeve when Nik tried to pull back, but was distracted by Cameron appearing.

“Phone,” Cameron said, looking annoyed.

Lev patted his pocket, and then held up the waterlogged device. “Nik pulled me in,” he offered apologetically. He set it down on the side of the pool. “I forgot I had it in my pocket.”

“I’ll get you a new one,” was all Cameron said. “Don’t do that again.”

“Tell Nik to not to pull me in,” Lev mumbled, before looking up at Cameron.

“I’m not his mother. You do it,” was all Cameron had to say before left.

“Yeah,” Nik parroted. “He’s not my mother.”

Lev splashed him and Eden both. Eden screeched, slapping the water herself. A laugh bubbled up, real and genuine. Lev turned away long enough to take off his sopping sweater and drop it beside the ruined phone.

This was worth it, he decided, dropping a kiss on Eden’s cheek. It was worth all of it.

---

Nik spent the next few hours getting a restless Eden under control and unconscious while also wandering around the house. Cameron seemed to be off in his study, doing Cameron Things and Lev was doing Lev Things. He was about to go see if he could bully Cameron into making stuffed peppers, when there was a knock at the doors. He was this close to ignoring it, and letting one of Cameron’s lackeys get it themselves, but he was closest to the door.

When he pulled the doors open, he felt his stomach drop. He had no idea why his father of all people decided to stand right in front of him, with that irritatingly neutral look on his face, especially in Demonic Territory. But he was. “Papi.”

Az’ril looked Nik up and down slowly enough Nik folded his arms over his chest, trying to hide his stomach out of sheer self-consciousness. Though it was completely useless and they both knew it. “You are pregnant.”

Nik felt heat rise in his face. “It’s Cameron’s,” he said, instantly.

“Hm.” He looked past Nik for only a second before saying, “Are you going to let me in?”

Nik took a wordless step back and to the side. There was no point in arguing, not when he was pregnant and he wasn’t going to risk the safety of either himself or his baby just when he decided he was going to keep the little leech who decided to continuously steal his food.

His father wasn’t even two steps in the house before both Cameron and Lev decided to come into the hallway from two separate directions.

Well that was just fantastic.

“Az’ril,” Cameron said, mildly. “To what do I owe this unannounced visit?”

Az’ril’s golden brown eyes flicked Cameron’s way. “I was not aware that I needed an invitation or to announce myself to visit my youngest.”

Cameron lifted a brow and stopped right behind Nik, close enough Nik could almost feel Cameron’s body heat. “How would you be aware when you do not ask? Or visit in the last year or so, but I digress.”

Lev stopped next to Nik and tried to take his hand. Nik only shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and said nothing. Az’ril’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but completely dismissed Cameron and turned his full attention back to Nik. “Let’s speak. Alone.”

“Nik,” Lev said, quietly.

He could feel Cameron’s gaze on him, letting him take the lead on however Nik wanted to move forward. Nik only lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, sure. I think we can find a room.”

He shouldered past Lev, without so much as a glance, aware his father was right on his heel without needing to be told to follow. He found the nearest office space and went in, immediately going to open the windows when he heard the door click behind him.

“So,” Nik said, leaning against the wall, with his arms folded over himself once more. “You wanted to talk…?”

Az’ril made himself at home by sitting in the desk chair. He glanced around the orderly office, taking note of the very sharp, immaculate furniture. “He seems to have inherited a great deal from his former station,” Az’ril noted.

“Yeah,” Nik said. “I imagine being raped every day for five hundred years, a fancy house was the least they could give him. But what do I know.”

The vaguest look of distaste crossed his father’s features. “Your crassness is bound to lose its charm,” he said, leaning back. “Especially now that you are pregnant. Even if it is with a demon’s spawn, and an illegitimate one at that. That cute attitude isn’t going to get you far much more.”

“I’m sure my cute looks will make up for it,” Nik said.

“We’ll see.”

The tightness in his chest didn’t let up a single bit, if anything it just reached further into his throat, making it that much harder to keep an unruffled appearance. The razor sharp look in his father’s eyes suggested Az’ril was more than aware. And he was unimpressed.

“How does the demon feel about your pregnancy,” Az’ril said. “Doesn’t quite seem the paternal type. As far as I’m aware, demons tend to eat their young.”

Nik chewed on his lip piercing. “He’s fine with it.”

“Is he?”

“That’s what I said,” Nik said, not able to keep the irritability out of his voice. “If you’re wanting a birth announcement, I’ll be sure to ship you one in the post. Is there anything else you wanted?”

“Actually there is,” Az’ril said.

Nik waited expectantly, trying to not squirm under that golden look.

“I do not think your demon is equipt to adequately care for a pregnant angel,” he said. “And I do not wish for a disgraced outcast to be caring for my child.”

Nik blinked. “I- what? Then where, exactly, do you expect me to go?”

“Your rooms are being set up as we speak,” his father replied. “A nursery as well, as you’re obviously keeping the child. Even if it’s part demon, your status is of mine, and I will not be having it or you here any longer. It’s about time you stopped playing house and returned to where you belong.”

“...I belong with Cameron and Lev,” Nik said.

Az’ril stood fast enough that Nik’s spine straightened on sheer instinct. “You need to stop with these convoluted fantasies of yours,” His father said, sharply. “You will come home, even if I have to drag you by your ear to do so. It’s for your own good, Nikolas.”

“But- what about them?”

“They are not my concern.” He crossed the desk. “This is my own fault,” he said. “I gave you too much freedom and left you unchecked and now your inability to take responsibility for any of your actions has led you unmarried, unmated and pregnant. So now, you will be coming home, and you will be letting me take care of you. End of discussion. Are we clear.”

Nik’s eyes trained to the ground. “Yes sir.”

“Better. Now go get your things, because we need to be leaving.”

Nik pushed off the wall and left the office as fast as he could go without sprinting out of the room. He shoved open the bedroom doors and went for the closet. He stopped dead in his tracks outside of it, anxiety clawing at his throat, but he forced himself forward to get his shit so he could get out of here.

“What’s going on?” Nik heard Lev ask from the doorway.

Nik stopped dead in his tracks before resuming once again. “Going home,” was all Nik said, going to toss a few of his jackets onto Cameron’s bed.

“This is home.”

Nik chewed on his bracelet and went back into the closest for more clothes. “Yeah, and so is Tullum. Papi is insistent on me coming home so he can take care of me while I’m pregnant.” He tried to keep the irritability out of his voice. It wasn’t Lev’s fault that Nik’s omega decided to kick into self preservation mode now.

Horrible timing, really.

“He won’t take no for an answer,” Nik said, dropping the rest of his clothes on the bed. “So I’m going home.” He fixed a smile in place. “That’s what’s best for the baby, am I right? Got to get the special angel healers and- and it’s a family thing. I’m sure you wouldn’t get it.”

Lev stared at him for a moment. “You can’t go with him. It’s not what’s best for the baby and it’s not what’s best for you.”

“And you devised that in what, the five minutes of interaction with him?” Nik asked, sharply. “Family clearly does not mean the same thing to you as it does to me and mine. There are traditions and- and I just.” Nik exhaled sharply through his nose and muttered under his breath in spanish and went back to packing. There was no point. “I don’t have a choice and it’s not like you can stop him.”

“Nik,” Lev said softly. “I know people scare me all the time, but... not like him. Not like that.” He crossed the room, trying to take Nik’s hand as he said, “I won’t let him take you.”

Nik shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to die again?” Nik demanded, voice cracking. “You seem to forget that I am the only one in my family without magic. My family deals and trades in death and he has the power to absolutely obliterate anyone. Especially someone with no ties or protections offered by angels anymore. You literally just defied the laws of nature. Don’t get between us and ruin it for nothing.”

Lev’s face was the fiercest he’s ever seen from him. “You’re mine, and I’m not going to let him take you from us.”

Nik bit into his lip so hard he could taste the honey sweetness of his blood. He didn’t have an argument for that, especially when Lev’s head was annoyingly big when he was being annoyingly protective. It clearly meant he couldn’t listen to reason or fact. His father was just… he was death.

He put his head on Lev’s shoulder, not saying another word.

Nik was snapped out of his trance the moment he heard the sharp order in spanish to hurry up. His head lifted and sure enough his father was standing in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. “We need to get going.”

Lev looked at Az’ril. “He’s not going with you.”

Cameron appeared like a wraith in the doorway behind his father, eerily silent and perfectly unruffled as he sidestepped Az’ril as if he were little more than a stool in his way. “Nikolas can take his time,” he said, coolly. “As much of it as he wants.” His pale eyes slid towards Nik, looking for his stance.

Cameron was going to follow Nik’s play, no matter what he wanted for himself. He’d let them all make their decisions and damn themselves, but it would always be their decision. He’d have no part in shaping it.

When Nik looked down at the ground, Cameron then said, “Of course, if I wanted, I could keep him here. He’s pregnant with my child and as it would be my property, so is Nik.” The sheer, so very faint distaste in those words in Cameron’s tone didn’t go unnoticed by Nik. “I’m sure you, someone of such high political standing, would understand that.”

Nik didn’t dare say a fucking word, even as Lev positioned himself between Nik and Az’ril.

His father locked eyes with Cameron. Cameron was several centuries younger than his father, even if Cameron felt eons older in the icy, composed stance he was taking. “My son is not your property,” Az’ril bit out.

“By demonic law,” Cameron said, mildly, “he is. The moment you decided to send your son into spy on me and mine forfeited your right to Nik, and made him mine.” Cameron looked over at Nik and Lev, gaging the both of them with calculated stillness. “Come here.”

Nik was frozen in place for a split second before Lev gently took his arm and nudged him over to Cameron’s side. If Lev hadn’t made him move, Nik would have been torn between standing still and being at Cameron’s side in a split second with the sheer Alpha in his tone.

Cameron fixed his eyes on Nik, and then Nik’s throat. “Of course,” he said. “I am speaking in demonic terms, and not angelic terms. So let me be very clear about this.” A chill rippled down Nik’s spine when Cameron's very sharp teeth sunk into Nik’s throat.

Lev ushered out of Cameron’s way, but Nik could sense his eyes were still trained on Az’ril as Nik instantly went limp at the claiming bite being branded into his flesh. Cameron caught him easily before he collapsed onto the ground from the amount of hormones being flooded into his body.

Nik whimpered when Cameron’s teeth came out of his skin. He caught the golden sheen of blood still on Cameron’s pale lips before pushing his face into Cameron’s chest. Cameron’s arm held him firmly in place as Nik reached for Lev’s hand.

Lev took it but didn’t take his eyes off Az’ril.

Cameron didn’t blink at the way Az’ril’s eyes narrowed. Angels held mating bonds to one of the highest standards in their lands and Cameron knew it. “You know where the door is, yes? If not I’m sure someone can show you out.”

Nik didn’t dare look up from Cameron’s chest, but he heard his father retreat from the room, and hopefully the house. “I’m sorry,” Nik mumbled against Cameron’s chest.

Cameron tugged on his hair. “Quiet,” he said, not harshly. The order did mellow the anxiety curling in his chest.

Lev lightly bit Nik’s shoulder. “You’re staying with us,” Lev mumbled against his skin. “You belong with us.”

---

Breakfast the next morning was quiet. Though, admittedly, most of their breakfast lately were quiet. Nik couldn’t drink coffee and so it took even longer for him to wake up. Cameron rarely had much to say in the morning, and Lev was always tired nowadays so quiet it was.

However, this morning, Lev had something on his mind. “Cameron?” he asked. “I had a question.”

“Hm?”

“Can we start working on a nursery? I imagine it’ll take some work, and...” He shrugged.

Before Cameron responded, he walked out of the kitchen. Lev stared after him, and looked to Nik. Nik was still staring at his decaf coffee, face blank and definitely not awake. Cameron reappeared, book in hand. Lev lifted the cover as Cameron went back to fixing breakfast.

Inside the book was... plans. Color swatches and crib options and even a sketched layout or two. Lev traced a picture of a crib made of dark brown wood and with little sea stars carved into the headboard. “You already started planning without me?” he asked, trying to not sound petulant.

Cameron flicked a look in his direction. “You were sleeping.”

A low blow, but a fair one. Sleeping had been preferable to being awake. “Point,” Lev finally muttered. “Well can I help with the rest?”

“If you want.”

“I do,” Lev said, flipping back through the book carefully. He would have called it a scrapbook if it hadn’t been so brutally efficient. Besides. If he had, Lev had the feeling Cameron would have been offended. “I’m guessing an ocean theme?” he said, peering at the options Cameron had deemed acceptable for baby mobiles.

Cameron placed a plate of bacon down in front of him. “It seemed to fit Nik’s tastes.”

“This isn’t my coffee,” Nik suddenly complained, rubbing his face.

Lev looked over. “Looks like coffee to me?” He wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

Nik frowned. “This isn’t. My coffee.” This time he sounded more irritable.

“You’re not supposed to have caffeine, if that’s the problem,” Lev said, taking a bite of bacon.

“Says who?”

Lev offered him a piece of bacon. “Ash, probably. But also every pregnancy health book I’ve ever read. And I’ve read a lot.”

Nik slammed his mug down. “Well Ash isn’t here, and you’re not my boss.” He pulled out his phone, muttering in Spanish. Lev only got another piece of bacon before Nik startled him by shoving the phone in his face. “See? I can.” He was practically yelling, mostly from excitement from what Lev could tell.

Indeed, Ash had typed out a terse, “1.” Period included.

“Somehow that feels coerced,” Lev mumbled, before pointing out, “You have to convince Cameron too.”

Cameron sipped his tea calmly. “No,” he said. “Sit down.”

Nik plopped down, defeated. He stared at the counter sadly. “You’re all monsters.”

“Well, four more months and you can have caffeine again,” Lev encouraged.

“This leech is taking everything from me,” Nik mumbled.

Lev reached over, brushing his hair from his face. “Soon,” he promised, kissing Nik’s cheek.

Nik wrinkled his nose. “So what were you talking about before you decided to ruin my life?”

Lev closed the book carefully. “Nursery plans. Which- Cameron, do you think Nate would come paint the walls for us? I bet he’d do something pretty.”

Cameron put a plate of eggs and fruit down in front of Nik. “I already called him. He’ll be here tomorrow to start working on it.”

Lev huffed. “You’ve already thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“It’s easy. You’re both predictable.”

“What the fuck is this?” Nik demanded. “You give Lev bacon, and I get rabbit food? I’m a growing boy. I deserve bacon.”

Lev decided not to comment on the fact that he’d offered Nik a piece and Nik had decided to bemoan his coffee instead. “Eggs aren’t rabbit food,” he pointed out instead.

Nik took Lev’s plate. “Well fine then, you eat it. I’m eating your bacon.”

“Hey!” Lev reached for his plate. “Nik! Give it back.”

Nik just put his hand in Lev’s face, but Cameron switched the plates anyway. Nik whined, and all he got in response was a baring of Cameron’s teeth. Despite that Lev put a single piece of bacon on Nik’s plate.

Before any more bickering could start, a knock sounded. Lev peered over his shoulder in time to see a sentry leading a short woman into the room. She was hauling bags with her, though she set them down when she set eyes on Nik.

Nik had been in the middle of grumbling as he picked at his food, but when he saw her, he dropped his fork. “Mami?”

Lev watched them, mystified. He’d never met Nik’s mother, but when he looked to Cameron, Cameron just shook his head subtly like he knew what Lev was thinking. That left Lev even more confused, but he just looked back to see her cupping Nik’s face and fussing at him in rapid Spanish. In Nik’s defense, he looked pleased.

“Hello,” Lev offered when she seemed done. “I’m Lev?”

“I’m Mami Coco.” She looked to Cameron. “You can call me Socorro. I’ll be sleeping in a room next to Nikolas.”

Lev could see the annoyance flickering in Cameron’s face, but Nik looked happy, dark brown eyes shining as he got a hug from Mami Coco. Somehow Lev doubted Cameron would be irritated enough at the disruption in his plans and schedule enough to upset Nik over this. Instead, Cameron filled a plate for her too, and said, “Sit.”

There was a certain look to her that promised much headbutting in the future, but she sat beside Nik with a simple, “Okay.”

Tagging:  @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

[fmdtaeyong]

like a rockstar : taeyong marketing breakdown

a headcanon & playlist on how titan’s taeyong is marketed as a product and brand.

headcanon

word count: 491 words, not counting the tvtropes quote.

a successful celebrity can’t exist without marketing. some celebrities are all marketing. ash, for one, wouldn’t be where he is today without bc entertainment’s well-oiled marketing machine painting him in a desirable light and smoothing out his rough edges into something shiny.

the image the name taeyong provokes now isn’t quite the one it would have provoked a few years ago. the role of maknae burdened ash’s image for years. a sense of brightness is expected of any idol, but the youngest of a group is expected to show it, even in a group like titan that has never been about bright concepts. whether that means being babied by the older members or having a certain underlying innocence to him.

when he went solo was when his image gravitated further away from being dictated by his place within a group. as he earned recognition for his own name (or rather, his own stage name) and got attention from a new crowd, he was able to pave a path that painted with the brush of an artist, a little less bound by preconceived notions about his role in titan. when the scandals stamped to his name went from fumbling over formalities and dating a well-loved actress to controversies less easily painted as endearing that came at the same time he began to present himself differently visually, bc had to bank on the leeway of an artist tinge to his image saving him.

ash has never been marketed as an ideal boyfriend. titan has that covered in the group already and an outed relationship before he’d begun to make a name for himself individually prevented that from being a rational path. some fans still fall into the trap of babying him, but overall, taeyong is now known as the more serious and reserved type. satisfactory fanservice is a non-starter, so they make their own fantasies out of his mystery and “edginess” and a brooding stage persona. bc has done damage control where they’ve had to and let his music and fan projections paint the rest.

out of all of the classic boy band member tropes, ash would solidly be considered a purveyor of the bad boy / rebel trope within titan and out of it for that matter. to quote tvtropes:

“the one with a rougher edge to him. he's the one wearing the black shirt and jeans or leather jacket in those videos where they're not all wearing matching clothes. if he's really edgy, he may also have a tattoo. put in to cater to those girls who want bad boys.”

 bc read the first two paragraphs of the tv tropes page for all girls want bad boys and said ‘yeah, this should work’. the bad boy / rebel angle tends to get played up within fandom a lot more than among more casual listeners to his music, who get a heavier dose of the ~artist~ part of his image since that’s meant to appeal to them more anyway.

ash has very purposefully been trying to lean more into the artist aspect of his image lately because he isn’t a fan of being painted as some kind of bad boy fantasy when he doesn’t consider that an accurate representation of him at all.

playlist

this playlist gives a semi-chronological cataloging of the image associated with taeyong since around 2016/2017. some parts of his image have remained consistent, while others have changed either by purposeful marketing, unavoidable consequences of media discussion around him, or simply altered fan narratives for him. some parts of this are less about how he’s marketed and more about very one-dimensional fan narratives crafted around him, but overall it gives an idea of the feeling associated with him as a product and brand. (some of these songs were used in image playlists on ash’s previous blog, but i made sure at least seven of these are new. i wanted to include ones i’d used before as well for a comprehensive look on his new blog since some aspects of his image have changed.)

this honestly also doubles as a list of the songs you’d find the most results for if you looked up taeyong fan edits.

i. death of a bachelor | i’m cutting my mind off, feels like my heart is going to burst / alone at a table for two, and i just wanna be served / and when you think of me, am i the best you've ever had?

ii. daydreamer | a jaw dropper / looks good when he walks / is the subject of their talk / he would be hard to chase / but good to catch / and he could change the world / with his hands behind his back, oh

iii. wildest dreams | he's so tall and handsome as hell / he's so bad, but he does it so well / i can see the end as it begins

iv. style | cause you got that james dean daydream look in your eye / and i got that red lip classic thing that you like / and when we go crashing down, we come back every time / cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style / you got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt / and i got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt

v. crazy beautiful | and he picks you up / and he sets you down / and that's the way / he thinks and he walks and he plays around downtown / but the truth is, he's still got a scar / as plain as others / to get his way to a scarlet heart

vi. ready for it...? | knew he was a killer first time that I saw him / wondered how many girls he had loved and left haunted / [...] / some boys are tryin' too hard, he don't try at all though / younger than my exes, but he act like such a man, so

vii. radio | now my life is sweet like cinnamon / like a fuckin' dream i'm livin' in / baby, love me 'cause i'm playing on the radio / how do you like me now?

viii. like i would | he, won't touch you like i do / he, won't love you like i would / he don't know your body / he don't do you right / he won't love you like i would / love you like i would, like i would

ix. i wanna be yours | secrets i have held in my heart / are harder to hide than i thought / maybe i just wanna be yours / i wanna be yours

x. strange love | they think i'm insane, they think my lover is strange / but i don't have to fucking tell them anything, anything / and i'm gonna write it all down, and i'm gonna sing it on stage / but i don't have to fucking tell you anything, anything

xi. my oh my | yeah, a little bit older, a black leather jacket / a bad reputation, insatiable habits / he was onto me, one look and i couldn't breathe, yeah / i said, if he kissed me, i might let it happen

xii. bad reputation | i don't give a damn 'bout my reputation / never been afraid of any deviation / and i don't really care if you think i'm strange / i ain't gonna change

xiii. starboy | i'm tryna put you in the worst mood, ah / p1 cleaner than your church shoes, ah / milli point two just to hurt you, ah / all red lamb' just to tease you, ah / none of these toys on lease too, ah / made your whole year in a week too, yah / main bitch out of your league too, ah / side bitch out of your league too, ah / [...] / look what you’ve done / i’m a motherfuckin' starboy

xiv. into it | i'm just fucking lucky i was born with it / a hundred million people couldn't deal with this

xv. like a rockstar | put me in designer then put me in the dirt / keep my legacy alive like a rockstar / lifestyle, on the edge, can be unforgiving / see i worship the dead, they worship the living, yeah

[onebadwinter]

Baron Helmut Zemo Tropes

Taken from Here and Here

Anti-Villain: Sometimes verges on this, though it's a case of Depending on the Writer.

Arch-Enemy: After his father's death, he takes this role to Captain America and leads the Masters of Evil after inheriting the title.

Aristocrats Are Evil: He's a baron after all, and believes his aristocratic heritage entitles him to rule.

Avenging the Villain: Helmut's original motive was to kill Captain America because he killed his father. Eventually, Helmut came to the realization that actually, Heinrich was an awful father and an even worse person.

Badass Normal: Has no powers, but regularly fights the likes of Captain America and the Avengers. He usually has a contingency that will allow him to deal with his opponent's plans anyway; it's only when these contingencies fail (as happened during his battle with Moonstone at the end of the initial run on Thunderbolts) that he's in trouble.

The Big Bad: Of his fare share of arcs, particularly those involving the Masters of Evil.

Brain Uploading: He only survived being decapitated because Techno uploaded his consciousness to a computer.

Butter Face: A Rare Male Example. He has the body you'd expect of somebody who can keep up with Captain America in terms of physique... but that handsome form is contrasted by a hideously malformed visage. For a while, he had a young, dashing look again after hijacking the body of the Helmut from another Earth, but only two years later his face got disfigured again. When he got Carla Sofen's Moonstone, he used it to fix that, but when Melissa broke it again...

Calling the Old Man Out: During his trip back in time, he ran into his father while the latter was gleefully doing mad science for the Nazis. Helmut had long since discarded any Nazi prejudices he had once had, and was fuming watching his father put down other races, the handicapped, etc. Finally he had enough and started beating the hell out of him while giving a "Reason You Suck" Speech. Quite the sign of Character Development for the guy who started out worshiping and avenging his father's memory.

Captain Patriotic: At the beginning of the Thunderbolts, he disguised himself as Citizen V, supposedly the son of a previous hero who'd gone by that name, whom Zemo had killed. Zemo went the whole hog, even decking himself in a cape designed after the American flag.

The Chessmaster: Zemo has a plan for everything, and lays them out months in advance.

Cool Mask: Wears a tighter fitting version of his father's mask.

The Cynic: Has a generally negative view of humanity.

Daddy Issues: He loved his father, and his father loved him... until the Adhesive X incident, where he became outright abusive in every way. Originally, Helmut blamed Captain America. Now, he acknowledges that his father was just a horrible human being.

Did You Just Punch Out Cthulhu?: He once shot the Grandmaster, one of the Elders of the Universe and a being way outside his normal weight class, through the head. Admittedly, there were mitigating circustances that allowed him to do this, and the Grandmaster did get better (because, hey, comics).

Disney Villain Death: Many, many times (see Never Found the Body below).

Even Evil Has Standards: Arranged the death of one of his ancestors during a time-travel jaunt, after he found out the man was a rapist and a mass-murderer who did it all For the Evulz. He later clashed with another ancestor when he thought he was harassing a girl (the two were actually in love, and he quickly apologised).

Evil Genius

Evil Is Petty:

The Faceless: He rarely ever removes his mask, due to his face being horribly scarred in a accident.

Facial Horror: His head has been slashed up so badly that it's practically a skull, with ribbons of flesh draping over his eyes and sliced-off cheeks and lips. The sight of his face visibly disgusts everyone in the original Thunderbolts.

Freudian Excuse: Raised by his father to believe in his inherent superiority. There wasn't a lot of dad hugs down in that South American jungle, mostly just rants and lectures.

Good Scars, Evil Scars: Hideously disfigured beneath his mask.

Grand Theft Me: After becoming a "ghost", his mind was transferred to the actual son of Citizen V (Techno noted it was basically him playing a joke). That is, until an energy conflict - the V-Batallion tried to teleport Citizen V as the body was being sucked into a portal - made his mind be expelled into Techno's machinery. But given he arrived at Counter-Earth, this meant Zemo could do a literal case of the trope, and took the body of his self from this world.

Heel–Face Revolving Door: Cannot make up his mind which side he is supposed to be on. He even once took a bullet for Cap despite being his sworn enemy.

In the Blood: The arrogance and the drive for control certainly are.

Joker Immunity: Unlike his father, he can never seem to be put down for long.

The Leader: Of the Masters of Evil and the Thunderbolts.

Legacy Character: To his father, Baron Heinrich Zemo XII.

Manipulative Bastard: Zemo's very good at getting other people to do what he wants, playing on their emotions and desires.

Master Swordsman: One of the best in the Marvel Universe. Zemo's dueled the likes of Captain America and survived several decades worth of warfare on a time travel jaunt.

Nazi Nobleman: Started out as one, though he's moved away from fascism in recent years. Nowadays his goals align more with Dirty Communists.

Never Found the Body: During the run of Thunderbolts alone he was declared dead on four separate occasions, all of which turned out to be false. In each instance, his body was never found. By the fourth time, most of the team just assume he'll turn up eventually (not that they want him to).

Noble Demon: He's much more noble than his father,for sure.

Purple Is Powerful: Signifies his aristocratic leanings.

Secondary Color Nemesis: Purple, to oppose Cap's blue and red.

Take Over the World: He insists it's to save it. Some people (like Songbird) aren't convinced.

Taking the Bullet: Once leapt in the way of an energy blast an insane Moonstone aimed at Captain America. Messed his face up bad.

There Are No Therapists: This guy is seriously messed up and would probably have turned out differently if he got professional help.

Token Evil Teammate: Alongside Techno, he serves as this for the first iteration of Thunderbolts. While most members of the team fall somewhere between The Hero and the Anti-Hero, Zemo shows no signs of having softened whilst playing-hero, and alongside Techno manages to almost conquer the world and turn it into a Darwinist nightmare. He also constantly mocks his teammates for wanting to be heroes, calling them "weak" and "traitors to the cause" when they show the smallest signs of heroism outside of their pubic duties.

Unlucky Thirteen: He's the thirteenth Baron Zemo.

Well-Intentioned Extremist: In his mind, at any rate, after some Character Development, he becomes determined to take over the world for its own good. That doesn't mean that he's not an Axe-Crazy terrorist who's willing to perform some truly heinous actions for the sake of the "greater good." Zemo: I would never have hurt a world I worked so hard to save.

Western Terrorists: More like this than a Nazi.

Wicked Cultured: When being held at swordpoint by his worst ancestor, an evil aristocrat who believed only in the absolute of power, said ancestor's son (who'd struck up a friendship with Zemo) asked what was more absolute than power. Zemo's answer? "To be, or not to be."

Worthy Opponent: Sometimes sees Captain America this way, and definitely sees Sharon Carter this way.

Xanatos Speed Chess: He's good at incorporating the gambits of others into his plans, as evidenced by his deft manipulation of Moonstone when they were both members of the Thunderbolts.

One of his nastiest acts of spite was destroying a box of Cap's treasured belongings, including some of his last links to the past, right in front of his eyes.

What was his initial plan in founding the Thunderbolts? Pretend to be heroes, earn America and the world's trust, become famous and respected, and then gather knowledge on the other heroes to... sell to the criminal underworld? Eventually, Moonstone points out this is a freaking stupid plan.

Taken to the highest extreme possible. When he actually did have the power to implement whatever change he might have wanted, Songbird shut him down with the intention of killing him out of not trusting him. What were what he believed could have been his last words?

MCU Zemo Tropes

Adaptational Attractiveness: He's quite handsome here, while his comic counterpart usually has to wear a mask to hide his hideously charred, disfigured face. This is true to his first appearance in the comics as a one-shot villain, before he was scarred upon becoming a recurring character.

Adaptational Heroism: In The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, when he does don his iconic comic book alter ego, unlike in the comics where he was a straight-up one-note supervillain, Zemo here is depicted so far as an Ambiguously Evil Anti-Hero ally of Avengers Sam and Bucky without mostly ever betraying them until his escape from the hotel in the fourth episode with most of his redeeming and justifiable qualities shown upfront more than his villainous qualities that Civil War mostly showcased, but still likely an on-and-off antagonist simultaneously during his Enemy Mine with the two superheroes.

Adaptational Nationality: In the comics Helmut Zemo is German, but here he is a Sokovian. Ironically, his actor actually is German, and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier sees a bit of his German accent creep in. He also has a vast array of vehicles and a private plane in Germany, and seems very familiar with both Berlin and the German language. Whether this is a Retcon into making him part German or just a Mythology Gag is yet to be seen, though he does identify Sokovia as "his country".

Adaptational Nice Guy: His comic counterpart and that of his father were literal Nazis who wanted mass genocide and world domination, and while the Helmut of the comics did grow out of the former, he still tends to try the latter. This version of Zemo, despite being on a black ops killing team, has a much simpler and more sympathetic motivation, while his father was merely a civilian. Neither have any ties to HYDRA (aside from Helmut's exploitation of HYDRA's Winter Soldier project), while the versions from the comics are both prominent members of that organisation.

Adaptational Wimp: In the comics Zemo is a major adversary of Captain America and the Avengers, with a particular emphasis on his skills at fencing and manipulation. While this version retains his cunning, he is also presented as much less of a direct threat to anyone despite being a former black operative; when Black Panther decides to bring him in alive, he goes down with barely a struggle. Most of his success ties into this, with him exploiting his lack of obvious supervillainous affect to stay under the heroes' radar until his plan requires him to show his hand, then relying on Steve and Tony's flaws and personal issues to do most of the work for him. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier shows that he hasn't forgotten how to do his own dirty work, however, putting his soldier skills to use alongside his usual guile and strategizing once he gets back into the fray.

Adaptation Personality Change: In the comics, Zemo is generally depicted as an unapologetic villain who is primarily driven by a selfish desire to rule over others. His film version, on the other hand, has a much more sympathetic motive for his villainous actions, as he's just a victim of the Avengers' collateral damage in Sokovia seeking revenge for the death of his entire family.

Affably Evil:

Alas, Poor Villain: His defeat in Civil War is treated as an utterly somber affair, with him having nothing left after completing his plan and hoping to commit Suicide by Cop at T'Challa's hands before trying to kill himself when T'Challa refuses to be consumed by vengeance as Zemo has. Even though he got what he wanted (up to a point), it doesn't change the fact that his family is gone forever.

The Alcoholic: Following his escape from prison in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Zemo reveals himself to be a little bit of a tippler, partaking in shots, champagne, helping himself to Sharon's expensive liquor collection, then taking more shots at a club. He apparently approves of the way they party in Madripoor.

All for Nothing: He wanted to destroy the Avengers and was content with them dividing. Thanos's arrival and the events of Endgame undo all of that. In fact, the Avengers are no doubt more beloved than ever as a result.

Anti-Villain: Despite the grim and often hypocritical in hindsight actions he resorts to, he does have some good traits and was hoping for a cleaner way to get what he wanted first. Also, his motive — revenge for the collateral damage-induced loss of his family — is at least a little sympathetic.

Apple of Discord: His Evil Plan is to find evidence that Bucky Barnes murdered Tony Stark's parents while under HYDRA control and show it to Stark, so Bucky's friend Steve Rogers and Tony will turn on each other over whether to spare or kill Bucky, and the Avengers will be ripped apart as they side with one leader or the other.

Arch-Enemy: Since the death of Ulysses Klaue, it seems Zemo has taken his seat as Wakanda's most wanted for the death of King T'Chaka. Not a day after he breaks out of prison, Ayo is already hot on his trail to capture him.

Aristocrats Are Evil: It's revealed in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier that he is a nobleman like his comic counterpart. Though unlike said counterpart, his upbringing had nothing to do with him becoming a villain since his father was by all accounts a decent man in this universe.

Badass Longcoat: The events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier have Zemo wearing a stylish winter coat, complete with Conspicuous Gloves.

Badass Normal: Unlike most of the Avengers, he's just a plain old human. But, through sheer patience and ingenuity, he still managed to tear them apart. During the trip to Madripoor he proves to be no slouch in combat either, reminding everyone he was former special forces. He also comes much closer to permanently stopping Morgenthau than Falcon or Bucky have ever managed so far, largely because he's fully willing to kill.

The Bad Guy Wins: Downplayed. Zemo has achieved his goals but with never with the fully desired outcome.

Batman Gambit: He's good at finding ways to make other people do things for him by exploiting their predictable behavior.

Beard of Evil: He has grown a beard during his eight years in prison as seen in Episode 2 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

Beware the Superman: His return in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier reveals his own take on the idea. While he is against the idea of a Super Soldier on principle, he is not specifically against them as people, but more how they are precisely put on a pedestal, their flaws washed away/ignored and subsequently inspire Blind Obedience. He specifically notes how the personal loyalty inspired by Steve Rogers to Sam and Bucky (then, even now) precisely drives them to such extremes—even breaking the law much like they did to free him. Sam and Bucky do not protest the point. He admits that Steve was not corrupted by the power he was given but points out there was only one of him compared to the many who would abuse it. He is proven right on this point by John Walker taking the super soldier serum and going off the deep end.

Big Bad: Of Captain America: Civil War. He exploits and exacerbates the ideological differences between Captain America and Iron Man, resulting in the eponymous Good vs Good conflict that threatens to destroy the Avengers.

Big Damn Villains: As Sam, Bucky, and Sharon are pinned down by bounty hunters in the Madripoor shipyard, Zemo suddenly makes a grandiose entrance in full villain garb on a ledge, killing several assassins by shooting a nearby gas tank with his pistol before going to ground and taking down the rest in close combat, opening up the heroes' window of escape.

Blue Blood: The Falcon and The Winter Soldier reveals that he was always a baron. While the fall of Sokovia took away most of the power of the title he still has a lot of money and connections as a result of his position.

Breaking the Fellowship: Thanks to his efforts, the Avengers are severely compromised, with several of the foundational friendships that held them together torn apart and anyone who sided with Cap imprisoned or branded a fugitive. Even Tony and his supporters still bear physical and mental scars caused by fighting their friends.

The Bus Came Back: After being imprisoned at the end of Civil War, Zemo returns in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, with the title characters seeking his assistance in tracking down the source of the Flag Smashers's Super Soldier powers.

Cape Busters: Has a personal grudge against the Avengers and plots to destroy them by pitting them against one another. By the time of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, he has apparently narrowed his vendetta to all super soldiers, stating that they "cannot be allowed to exist." At the same time, as stated above in Beware the Superman, his is more nuanced compared to other versions of this trope.

Character Tic: He has a habit of tilting his head whenever he's attempting to manipulate someone. It seems to be a subconscious thing he does, as he immediately stops doing it when Sam notices and lampshades it in Episode 4 of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier.

The Chessmaster: He plays all the Avengers like pawns. He frames Bucky for a crime, to have the world hunt him and lure him out of hiding. This partially causes the Avengers to turn on each other, divided over Bucky's innocence. He takes the UN interrogator's place, extorting information out of Bucky and using the trigger words to activate Bucky's soldier conditioning. Before finally showing Tony the tape of what really happened to his parents, sending him into a murderous rage to kill Bucky.

Colonel Badass: He used to be a Colonel in the Sokovian Special Forces, and he is one of the most effective foes the Avengers have faced — though not because of his combat abilities, but because of how effective he is about executing his plans.

Comic-Book Movies Don't Use Codenames: In Civil War, he's never called "Baron Zemo", the title he goes by in the comics, and is instead referred to by his military rank Colonel. This is subverted in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, which reveals that he was Sokovian royalty and has several characters address him as "Baron".

The Comically Serious: His stoic demeanour tends to stick out when he's in the same room as Sam and Bucky, like when he awkwardly jumps to the defense of Marvin Gaye's "Trouble Man" soundtrack, or his crappy dancing in Sharon's nightclub.

Composite Character: He takes Klaue's role as the man who murders King T'Chaka.

Cool Car: He actually has a lot of these. His family owned an impressive collection of classics, with plenty of Rolls' and Bentleys in his garage. It's a taste he himself had acquired, as he, Sam, Bucky and Sharon make their getaway out of Madripoor in a super-charged muscle car he had stashed in the docks.

Crusading Widower: His wife was among the civilian casualties in Sokovia. He keeps a recording of her last voice message on his phone.

Cunning Linguist: Zemo's multilingualism allows him to assume different identities. Aside from his native Sokovian, he speaks English, German, Russian, and presumably French, given that he was able to convincingly impersonate a French-speaking psychologist.

Death Seeker: Once he has put Iron Man against Bucky and Cap, he first attempts to persuade Black Panther into killing him, then decides to shoot himself. Black Panther catches the bullet before snagging him a headlock so he can face justice.

Determinator: He manages to find new resolve after Civil War, and Iron Man's sacrifice has done little to change his views. With Iron Man dead and Captain America retired, he decides he will stop the creation of any and all super soldiers in the world no matter what happens.

Divide and Conquer: His plan against the Avengers, seeing that there's absolutely no chance he can fight them on his own. He even compares the Avengers to some sort of a mighty empire, which can only be felled by using this tactic.

Driven to Suicide: Tries to goad T'Challa into killing him, and then to shoot himself when he refuses. Neither works out for him; making enemies of a guy with Super Strength and a bulletproof suit was a bad idea, evidently.

Elites Are More Glamorous: His family is Sokovian nobility and he was colonel in EKO Scorpion, Sokovia's black ops kill squad. Even if Sokovia was a developing Balkans country, that still makes him pretty dangerous.

Enemy Mine: Downplayed Trope. Despite not personally hating Sam and Bucky, the latter two consider their alliance with Zemo this due to Civil War and the damage he caused; the only reason they tolerate him is that he can accomodate them with the resources they need to take down the Flag-Smashers. To his credit, Zemo doesn't hesitate in helping their cause because of his Beware the Superman beliefs, even expressing interest in facing Karli Morgenthau herself.

Even Evil Has Standards:

Evil Genius: While he has combat training, his greatest strength is his intellect. Aside from his abilities as The Chessmaster, Zemo was able to crack the encrypted HYDRA files on the Winter Soldier program that Black Widow released to the Internet and build a very effective EMP bomb in his hotel room.

Face Death with Dignity: When T'Challa finally catches up with him at the end of Civil War, he's completely calm and fully prepared for T'Challa to kill him to avenge his father, even seeming to acknowledge that in his mind T'Challa's revenge against him is just as justified as his own revenge against the Avengers. Later, in episode 5 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, he's completely calm and accepting when it looks like Bucky is going to execute him, and later he calmly walks away with the Dora Milaje when they show up to take him into custody, knowing there's a decent chance he's going to be executed in a spectacular fashion in Wakanda for killing the king (for some reason the Dora Milaje went to all that trouble just to turn him over to the U.N. where he'll be held in the same prison that used to hold Captain America's half of the Avengers, but he's got no way of knowing that).

Facial Scruff: His brief appearance in the second episode of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier has Zemo with this due to his time spent in prison. Downplayed in that it looks relatively thin despite having been locked up for eight years at this point, and he shaves it off shortly after.

Fantastic Racism: He has a distaste for enhanced individuals in general, and super soldiers in specific. Specially if such super soldiers are put on pedestals he deems completely unearned.

Flaw Exploitation: He turns the Avengers, particularly Steve and Tony, against each other through a series of Batman Gambits with the ultimate goal of making them fight each other to the death — or if not that, at least to the point of no longer being a cohesive unit. In particular, he reveals to Tony the truth of what happened to his parents knowing that he'll go into an Unstoppable Rage against Bucky and that Cap will prioritise keeping Bucky alive even at Tony's expense.

Friend to All Children: Invoked in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. In the fourth episode, Zemo earns the trust of a few children in Latvia by offering them sweets in exchange for information. But he also uses to opportunity to manipulate them into thinking Bucky and Sam aren't to be trusted.

Four Eyes, Zero Soul: When he infiltrates the UN compound to activate the Winter Soldier, he wears a pair of glasses as part of his disguise.

From Nobody to Nightmare:

Gambit Roulette: The final part his master plan relies on little other than his assumptions on the personalities and capabilities of various characters after studying thousands of pieces of intel from HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. that Black Widow dumped online back in Winter Soldier. The whole thing would have fallen apart if...

Godzilla Threshold: Sam and Bucky see recruiting him to stop the Flag-Smashers at this...and ultimately cross it when they run out of options.

Heads I Win, Tails You Lose: Even if any of the above had happened, Zemo still would’ve won because his entire goal was for the Avengers to disband - whether through an amicable parting-of-ways or a bloodbath - it was always a matter of how big his win would be. The only real flaw in his plan was the interference of Black Panther, and the creation of the Sokovia Accords, both of which he’d have no way to account for.

He Who Fights Monsters: He wants to take revenge for the death of his family, which he blames on the Avengers for causing collateral damage in the Battle of Sokovia. In doing so, he is responsible for the deaths of dozens of innocent people himself. He even earns someone coming after him for revenge in T'Challa.

Hidden Agenda Villain: His motives remain unclear for much of Civil War and are only revealed as the final battle is taking place.

Hidden Depths: Like Sam, he's a fan of Marvin Gaye and considers "Trouble Man" a masterpiece.

High Collar of Doom: He does the Marquee Alter Ego and Not Wearing Tights through the whole of Civil War, but his winter gear in the third act features a large collar turned up, giving off this vibe. His supervillain gear in Falcon and the Winter Soldier also features one of these, albeit with his comic self's fur trim included.

Human Shield: Thanks to his EKO Scorpion training, is fully capable of taking hostages to hide and shoot behind, as a group of assassins in Madripoor discovered.

Hypocrite:

Interrupted Suicide: After explaining his motivations to T'Challa and apologizing for the death of his father, Zemo tries to shoot himself in the head. T'Challa, however, has none of that, and stops him to make sure he pays for his crimes and turns him over to the authorities.T'Challa: The living are not done with you yet.

It's Personal: Zemo has a personal vendetta against the Avengers. His family was killed during the Battle of Sokovia and he simply wants revenge on those he holds responsible. As pointed out in Beware the Superman, he extends this to any Super Soldier held in such high regard, which is why he has no problem teaming up with Sam (who's more or less Badass Normal like himself) and Bucky (who is a Super Soldier, but isn't exactly held in high regard).  When he, Sam, Bucky, and Sharon come across the HYDRA scientist responsible for creating more Super Soldiers after the failed Siberian Winter Soldiers, Zemo quietly and stoically shoots the man before the team is attacked.

Jerkass Has a Point: In episode 4 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Zemo explains why he doesn’t believe that super soldiers should be allowed to exist. By his own previous statements, Sam would probably agree with much of what he says, and John Walker spends the rest of the episode illustrating his arguments.

Kick the Son of a Bitch:

Kill and Replace: Murders the psychologist who was supposed to be evaluating Bucky and takes his place, taking the opportunity to activate Bucky's brainwashing during the evaluation.

Knight of Cerebus: He's a Villainous Underdog, but he manages to tear the Avengers apart through tactics. Unlike previous villains, his methods includes manipulating Tony into trying to execute Bucky to avenge the deaths of his parents and turning on Steve in the process. Averted in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier when his Laughably Evil side lightens the mood.

Know When to Fold 'Em:

Laser-Guided Karma:

Laughably Evil: Downplayed the next time he makes an appearance as he becomes The Comically Serious in an Endearingly Dorky kind of way when he joins in Sam's conversation with Bucky to praise Marvin Gaye's "Trouble Man" soundtrack, or his lame dancing in Sharon's nightclub.

Manipulative Bastard: He is very skilled at manipulation, having studied the Avengers' psychological profiles in order to exploit their individual weaknesses and play them against each other.

Man of Wealth and Taste: Zemo is a baron and more than loaded, owning a private jet, a fleet of classic cars, a personal retainer, and plenty of money and stashed resources.

Marquee Alter Ego: In Civil War, Zemo does not wear a mask — or any kind of costume at all, unlike his comic book counterpart. This changes in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

Master of Disguise: Zemo uses prosthetics and heavy makeup in order to convincingly make himself look like Bucky Barnes in the security cameras, fooling just about everyone into thinking the latter was responsible for the UN explosion. He later pulls a Kill and Replace on the psychiatrist who was intended to interview a contained Bucky with no one none the wiser until things start going wrong. Although the latter example is downplayed as when Tony finally discovers the real psychiatrist's body, he looks decidedly nothing like Zemo's impersonation of him.

Misplaced Retribution: Zemo holds the Avengers responsible for all the damage Ultron caused; while Tony and Bruce did create Ultron (after the former was influenced by Wanda), the "end all human life" thing was still his idea. The rest of the Avengers, however didn't know about Tony's plan, and did their best to stop Ultron once he went rogue.

Moral Myopia: He seeks to avenge his family, but he ends up killing multiple innocents who surely had family of their own. He acknowledges this, seeing as how he apologizes to Black Panther for killing his father but by that time he’s hoping to be killed so he can join his family, either by T’Challa or his own hand, so it’s more about easing his conscience rather than remorse for what his actions indirectly caused.

Movie Superheroes Wear Black: Instead of the purple and gold costume he had in the comics, he sticks to dark civilian clothes. Near the end of Civil War, he has a pitch-black coat with a large collar. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier trailers and promo images however reveal he’ll be getting a new costume featuring his signature purple mask and even incorporating the classic ermine trim on his collar.

Nazi Hunter: As part of his Adaptational Nice Guy he's no longer a member of the Nazi-affiliated and fascistic HYDRA group, but is shown to despite and openly oppose them, telling Karpov that "HYDRA deserves its place on the ash heap". The Falcon and the Winter Soldier has him openly despise Nazis and reveals that he'd been hunting down and killing HYDRA members for years as part of his quest to destroy the Super Serum, long before the destruction of Sokovia.

Necessary Evil: How Bucky, and especially Sam, view him in their fight against the Flag-Smashers. No one knows more about the super-soldier serum and Hydra than Zemo, and fortunately for them, they have a common enemy in the Flag-Smashers.

Nice Job Fixing It, Villain!: While his plan does succeed in its goal, it does allow Steve to find Bucky, after fruitlessly spending two years scouring the Earth for him, and gives them an ally who can get the brainwashing out of Bucky's head.

Nice to the Waiter: He is quite friendly and courteous to both a staff member of the hotel he stayed at for Civil War, and his old family butler.

No-Nonsense Nemesis: Zemo is an extremely pragmatic man who knows full well that he's just an ordinary person in an extraordinary world, and realizes that it will give him no quarter if he were to dally about with regards to his vengeance. He has no choice but to be utterly cutthroat if he wants to complete his goal. This is especially shown in his first full-blown action sequence in Falcon and the Winter Soldier, taking down assassins after himself and the heroes in a surprise attack that wouldn't be out of place in a first-person shooter game.

Non-Action Big Bad: Although he has military training, he never directly fights any of the Avengers in Civil War, acknowledging that he could never physically stand up to the likes of them. Instead, he relies more on subterfuge and deception. Becomes a Subverted Trope by the time of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, showing he's fully capable of taking down several assassins after the heroes, though all of them are still normal humans.

Not So Above It All: After being freed from prison in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Zemo shows that he isn't a stoic and unpleasant individual 24/7. Notably, he jumps in on Sam and Bucky's conversation about Marvin Gaye's Troubleman soundtrack to give his own thoughts on the record, and he can be seen thoroughly enjoying himself Madripoor, drinking quite a bit of hard liquor and awkwardly dancing at the Little Princess nightclub.

Nothing Left to Do but Die: After getting Tony to fight Steve and Bucky, Zemo decides to listen to his wife's voicemail one last time, before deleting it and attempting to commit suicide.

Nothing Personal: He tells T'Challa that he is sorry for killing his father and that he seemed like a good man in Civil War. While conversing with Bucky for the first time since the events of that film in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, he says this verbatim about using him to tear apart the Avengers.

Not Wearing Tights: He doesn't wear anything remotely resembling a costume in Civil War. However, he dons the purple mask in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

Outliving One's Offspring: His son was a casualty from the Avengers' fight with Ultron.

Old Money: He is generationally wealthy due to his family being Sokovian royalty.

Only Sane Man: In The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, it says a lot about Sam's present circle of associates that (other than Sharon Carter) Zemo is by far the most mentally well-balanced individual Sam has around him at his job.

Papa Wolf: The reason he's out to destroy the Avengers? His family was killed in their fight with Ultron.

Patriotic Fervor: Averted. As Zemo himself remarks ruefully, while he served in Sokovia's armed forces, his drive for vengeance isn't out of any love for the country, as he never actually had much patriotic feeling. The Falcon and The Winter Soldier shows that he does have some serious grievances over how it ended up, though, even chastising Sam and Bucky for not visiting the memorial.

Politically Correct Villain: As part of his Adaptational Nice Guy he's no longer a member of the Nazi-affiliated and fascistic HYDRA group, but is a fan of Marvin Gaye and understands Trouble Man (Sam's favorite album) to be a condensation of the African-American experience. Also berates Sam for stereotyping himself as a "pimp" just because he's flamboyantly dressed.

Purple Is Powerful: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier sees Zemo don a purple mask, coat, and gloves as he resurfaces to the criminal world.

Put on a Prison Bus: Zemo is taken to prison by Black Panther before he can commit suicide, ultimately sitting out the next few years until his return in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.  And it happens again in Episode 5 of the aforementioned series, where he's taken by the Dora Milaje to the Raft.

Pyrrhic Victory: Zemo succeeds in fracturing the Avengers and getting the majority of them branded as fugitives, but he is also captured by Black Panther and still has to face prosecution for the murders he committed. It also works vice versa on his capture being a Pyrrhic Victory for the heroes. Best summarized by the following exchange:Everett K. Ross: So how does it feel? To spend all that time, all that effort, and to see it fail so spectacularly? Helmut Zemo: ...Did it?

Revenge Myopia: Getting his revenge was worth anything — including inflicting upon others the same pain he complained about suffering. Lampshaded at the end of the movie, when T'Challa observes that the revenge he seeks has consumed him. Worse still, because he tore the Avengers apart, they had no gameplan and were unable to present a united front against Thanos, leading to even more families the universe over being devastated by the Snap.

Rogues Gallery Transplant: Downplayed. While Zemo is still an enemy of Captain America and The Falcon as he was in the comics, he also ends up becoming an enemy of Black Panther's, due to his involvement in King T'Chaka's death. It extends to the entire nation of Wakanda as well, as they immediately dispatch Ayo to apprehend him when he escapes from prison in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

Royals Who Actually Do Something: His noble lineage while serving in the Sokovian special forces makes him this.

Secretly Wealthy: He may have been living the gritty villain life in Civil War (probably to fly under the radar), but The Falcon and the Winter Soldier reveals that he is a wealthy Baron like his comics counterpart. Sam even reacts with "So all this time, you've been rich?"

A Sinister Clue: Zemo is left-handed and is the Big Bad of Civil War. Shooting a gun with his left hand starts off his Big Damn Villains moment in Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

Sucks at Dancing: While the gang rests and spends the night at Sharon's club in Madripoor, Zemo's dancing moves leave him wanting. Let's just say he was channeling his inner Commander Shepard.

Suicide by Cop: After apologizing to T'Challa for killing his father, he says that he seemed like a good man "with a dutiful son", saying this last part with a meaningful glance, obviously hinting that he's fine with T'Challa taking vengeance upon him now. When T'Challa refuses to do so, Zemo attempts to just shoot himself, but T'Challa thwarts this effort as well.

Superhero Movie Villains Die: Subverted. After completing his plan to turn Iron Man and Captain America against each other, he first attempts Suicide by Black Panther. Attempts being the operative word, as T'Challa refuses when he realises how close he came to turning out like Zemo. As a result, Zemo attempts to shoot himself in the head, but Black Panther stops him and turns him into the authorities, leaving him incarcerated but very much alive.

Supporting Protagonist: Of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, as most of Bucky's and Sam's story and dynamic are sometimes told from his viewpoint during his team-up with them.

They Look Just Like Everyone Else!: There's nothing from his looks that would suggest that he's more than just an everyday guy.

Took a Level in Cheerfulness: He's much more upbeat in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier than he was in Captain America: Civil War. Which makes sense: in the latter he had just lost his family and was on a revenge quest whereas in the former the stakes aren't as personal and he's had time to grieve for his family in prison, meaning he has the time and temperament to joke around, make fun of "allies" and dance badly.

Took a Level in Kindness: Downplayed, but in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, he's much friendlier with Sam and Bucky than he was with Tony and Steve in Civil War. Justified, as this time around he's working together with them to take down the Flag-Smashers and even then he still takes the time to engage them in relatively civil conversations.

Tragic Villain: He pursues his vengeance purely because he feels he has nothing else to live for without his family. This is highlighted by his decision to goad Black Panther into killing him and, when that doesn't work, shoot himself.

Tritagonist: Of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, when he teams up with Sam and Bucky in their crusade to defeat the Flag Smashers, while being more developed as a character in contrast to his debut in Civil War along the way of the narrative.

Tranquil Fury: Despite spending the whole movie on a murderous crusade, Zemo avoids all the theatrics of Loki or Ultron and seldom even raises his voice. This includes when he finally spells out his motives to the heroes.

Troll: Even when he's not manipulating or killing everyone around him, he's kind of a dick, as seen in his reappearance in Falcon and the Winter Soldier, reciting Bucky's trigger phrase, knowing it doesn't work, just to upset him, needling Sam about his experience in the Raft, and later telling his retainer to serve Sam and Bucky them any food that's gone off.

Truer to the Text: Zemo in Civil War was a borderline In Name Only depiction of him. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier retroactively adds a lot more aspects of the original comic character, such as his noble status, his costume, and his physical prowess.

Unknown Rival: To the Flag-Smashers, particularly Karli Morgenthau. Do to being enhanced with the super-soldier serum, Zemo considers the Flag-Smashers to be dangerous individuals, and is more than willing to form an Enemy Mine with Sam and Bucky to take them down. Karli on the other hand, isn't even aware that Zemo exists until he shoots her and destroys the serum right in front of her. Even then, she seems more content to get up and run than to try to confront him for his actions.

Unwitting Instigator of Doom: He successfully managed to break up the Avengers, hoping to bring down the most powerful team of beings in the universe to avenge the deaths of his family. Unfortunately for him, it worked a little too well, as they don't stand on a united front when Thanos arrives and, despite putting up a good fight, get flattened by the Mad Titan. Said Mad Titan then uses the Infinity Stones to wipe out half of all life in the universe, turning the world into a total mess that it spends five years trying to recover from until the Avengers find a way to set things right. Even when they do undo the Snap, the world falls into utter chaos once again trying to handle those that were restored to life, leading to the Flag-Smashers taking rise and causing just enough trouble to force Bucky and Sam to bust Zemo out of jail to help them.

Villain Protagonist: So far of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, when he teams up with Sam and Bucky to take down the Flag Smashers, getting more screen time and more of his development unlike in Civil War.

Villain Respect: As of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Zemo develops this towards Sam Wilson due to his refusal to be ehnanced into being super soldier while maintaining his idealistic outlook. He also concedes that Steve Rogers was not corrupted by the power he held but holds him as an exception.

Villainous Underdog: He's not a Physical God, not an alien, nor a Super Soldier. He's just a former military colonel with patience, a simple yet effective plan, and The Power of Hate. This is exactly why Sam and Bucky decide to bring him into their crusade against the Flag-Smashers.

Weak, but Skilled: Invoked. Zemo is a professionally trained special ops colonel who has the combat skills to take down regular men with ease. However, he knows that no amount of skill can destroy a group of enhanced individuals like the Avengers, and so relies on his manipulation and espionage skills to turn them against each other instead.

Weapon of Choice: A Smith and Wesson 6906 pistol, which he uses to execute the other Winter Soldiers and attempt suicide.

Well-Intentioned Extremist: Zemo's objective in The Falcon and The Winter Soldier is to stop the creation of any and all super soldiers, believing that they create symbols of facism like the Red Skull once did. He accomplishes this in the fourth episode by shooting Karli Morgenthau multiple times and then smashing the remaining vials as Nico is helping her escape him.

What You Are in the Dark: When Zemo corners Karli and discovers the last of the Super Soldier Serum in her possession, rather than take it for himself, which would have made his mission a lot easier, he smashes the vials and would have successfully destroyed them all had Walker not intervened.

Wicked Cultured: He's a connoiseur of music and art, as revealed in Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

Woobie, Destroyer of Worlds: He has quite a sympathetic motive for his mission of revenge against the Avengers, namely that he blames them for the death of his family.

Xanatos Speed Chess: He's not in control of everything that happens in Civil War (for one thing, he has nothing to do with the Sokovia Accords), but he's good at taking advantage of unexpected situations to further his plans. Even more so in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. In Civil War, at least he still instigates most of the events, but in the show, he's broken out of prison without having expected to and is more or less thrust into an ongoing conflict he has nothing to do with. He still manages to play the heroes and the villains—that he utterly disagrees with—and so far has gotten away completely unscathed, once again having succeeded at what he set out to do.

He's the Big Bad of Civil War and is more than willing to commit mass murder to achieve his ends, but the times he acts polite or remorseful are genuine. He states he'd rather avoid unnecessary deaths if he can, has a few standards, apologizes to T'Challa for killing his father, has regular courteous interactions with a staff member of the hotel he's staying at, and even eventually apologizes to Bucky for using him. Considering he's just a grieving man who's dedicated to avenging the deaths of his family, it makes sense he wouldn't act like a cackling maniac.

By The Falcon And The Winter Soldier, he is shown to be fairly courteous to those around him (who, apart from his family butler were his enemies before) and he is capable of holding civil conversations with Bucky, even offering him a genuine apology for his actions in Civil War. He also agrees to join Sam and Bucky's crusade against the Flag-Smashers, without the driving of a hard bargain one might expect from him. He is also fully willing to lend his resources from the criminal underground to Sam and Bucky to take the Flag-Smashers down, no questions asked.

While none of the Avengers die as a consequence of his plan in Captain America: Civil War, he accomplishes his main goal in dividing them and is content with this. While the looming threat of Thanos forces them back together in Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame, the reunion turns out to be temporary — by the time of Spider-Man: Far From Home, WandaVision, and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, the Avengers are still very much defunct.

In The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, he successfully killed the man who recreated the super soldier formula and destroyed all but one of the remaining samples while inadvertently leading to John Walker gaining the Super Serum for himself. This turns in Zemo's favor after Walker brutally executes a defenseless Flag Smasher in broad daylight in front of civilians, corrupting the image of super soldiers in the public eye. He willing gives up a chance at pulling a Villain: Exit, Stage Left to visit a memorial and allows him self to be captured, his work done.

He framed Bucky Barnes for bombing the United Nations, then relied on everyone else including Captain America hunting him down for it, and further that no one but the Avengers would even be capable of killing Bucky, to get access to Barnes and his knowledge of HYDRA bases.

He arranges for his ruse to be discovered by the media, relying on Tony to find out and make amends with Captain America, so they'll both find the Siberian compound where Zemo reveals to them that Bucky killed Tony's parents.

His entire plan is based on assumptions from the S.H.I.E.L.D. intel on the Avengers he's studied that Captain America's over-protectiveness of his friends and Iron Man's complex over the death of his parents would mean not only that the two would turn on each other if Bucky's involvement in the Starks' death was revealed, but that Steve wouldn't have talked to Tony about Bucky's potential involvement beforehand.

His setup gambled on the fact that it is a conflict that only works if there are no voices of reason to hold either of them back. The fact that the airport fight left only two active members of the Avengers, Bucky and a third party present in the Hydra compound in a place where no one would interfere was a happy accident for him since most of the Avengers present could have prevented things from reaching the breaking point. Of course, this is covered under Heads I Win, Tails You Lose.

Notably, this is also why he finds Bucky a bit tolerable, since he is being bewared of.

In a stark contrast to his comics depiction, he lacks any affiliation with HYDRA and outright states that they deserved to be brought down. A conversation in Falcon and the Winter Soldier reveals he despises the Red Skull and those who idolize him, and he kills Doctor Nagel while the man is gloating about being a god.

Despite his profound hatred of the Avengers, he declined to unleash the other five Winter Soldiers and shot them dead rather than risk someone else doing so, as they were worse than Bucky and would do untold damage to the world given the order. He also seems uncomfortable with the concept of experimenting on humans in general.Zemo: If it's any comfort, they died in their sleep. Did you really think I wanted more of you?

Zemo was "just" a special forces operative, but when his family was killed, he used his intel on HYDRA to take on the Avengers and came closer to destroying the team than any previous villain.

Falcon and the Winter Soldier reveals that at some point, he became involved with the criminal underground, under the simple but accurate alias of "Baron".

A) Captain America and Bucky had captured Zemo before Iron Man arrived (then again, he was in a fortified bunker that would take serious fire-power to break through).

B) Iron Man had not figured out where Cap and Bucky were headed in the first place.

C) Iron Man had not come alone, meaning there might have been someone to restrain him or talk him down after he learned the truth.

D) Black Panther had succeeded in killing Bucky during one of their three fights during the course of the film (of course it’s highly unlikely that he even knew the Black Panther existed).

E) Captain America told Iron Man that the deaths of his parents were orchestrated by HYDRA.

Zemo hates the Avengers after the collateral damage they caused killed his family. So he decides to split the team up and in the process causes collateral damage that kills other people's family members.

Zemo believes that "gods" like the Avengers should not be allowed to exist. Sam points out that be decreeing who deserves to exist, he's speaking like a god.

Tortures and kills Vasily Karpov for information. Karpov is not only a still loyal HYDRA operative but one of the main leaders of the Winter Soldier project and ordered the death of the Starks and his slow death is just desserts. He does the same to  the HYDRA scientist responsible for making more Super Soldiers in Falcon and the Winter Soldier, finishing his work from Siberia.

He also happily participates in the interrogation of Doctor Nagel, the Mad Scientist who recreated the Super Soldier Serum via human experimentation, and personally guns the man down.

Zig-zagged; he knows very well that he can never kill the Avengers himself, since more powerful men than him have tried and all have failed, which is why he makes a plan to get them to kill each other for him.

In the secret HYDRA lab in Madripoor, he and his comrades come under attack. Not knowing where the assailants are, Zemo makes a quick getaway, causing Sam and the others to think he bailed... only to show up moments later when the assassins are in plain view, making it much easier for him to take them down.

 When the Dora Milaje apprehend him a second time in episode 5 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, he surrenders himself without a fight, presumably both because he knew he had no chance of victory and because he had already achieved his goal of destroying the current iteration of the super-soldier serum.

He uses Bucky's Trigger Phrase while the latter's locked in an apparatus, making him go on a rampage. By the end of Civil War, he himself is locked in the same apparatus.

He kills T'Challa's father in the course of his Evil Plan. After T'Challa learns the truth about this, he foils Zemo's attempted suicide to ensure he faces justice for his crimes.

[nanasarea]

Sucker I xiv

Prompt: Y/N attends a school for the supernatural, specifically: werewolves, witches and vampires. The school might be magic, but so is love, right? Right?

Genre: angst, fluff, slight smut in the future

Pairing: reader x 00 line

Inspired heavily by: Legacies (and The Vampire Diaries&The Originals)

a/n: Im sorry

main m.list / sucker m.list /  i  ii  iii  iv   v   vi   vii   viii   ix   x   xi  xii xiii  xiv  xv

“I’m really losing it.” He sighed before taking a sip from his coffee, noticing something spelled out on the top of the cup.

“Erase it.”

Haechan sighed and decided to just go to bed, but he couldn’t. The words kept playing inside his head.

Erase it. 

Erase it. 

Erase it. 

Erase it. 

He sighed and went to the kitchen to eat something to calm his down, but when he did, he saw a book on the counter, the memory erasing spell being the only spell on the page, long with the words. 

Erase it.

So he did.

“Did you do it?” “Yes, but I still don’t know why we need t-” “Because we do, now stop complaining and go.” The man said as he looked at the crystal ball in front of him, seeing Haechan look at the page and close his eyes before reciting the words. 

“Yes, yes. That is exactly what you must do, boy.” He said as Haechan’s hair turned black, his eyes started tearing up with black tears and a smirk appeared on the boy. 

“Excellent, now all I need is y/n.” 

Time jump

“Are you sure we should be driving around so late?” You asked as Hana and Jisoo nodded. 

“It’s fine, right Jaemin?” Minsoo asked, behind the wheel. 

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Jaemin asked as you, Hana and Jisoo looked at each other. You arrived at the place and went to eat. 

“Minsoo, what’s wrong?” Jisoo asked as Minsoo just shrugged it off “Nothing, trust me.” Minsoo replied, faking a smile. 

You finished your food and before leaving, Minsoo got a call and excused himself. 

“We’ll wait outside for him.” You said as Hana and Jisoo got in the car. 

“Don’t tell me, you just want to get some alone time with me.” Jaemin teased, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you closer. 

“Can’t say I would turn down an opportunity.” You chuckled as he kissed you with a smile on his face. 

You thanked god that Jisoo and Hana were probably making out in the car as well, because if they saw, they would probably tease you for life. Kissing Jaemin was basically being on Cloud Nine. 

Jeno was passionate, but tamed. 

Renjun was gentle and soft, but shy. 

Jaemin? He was something else. He kissed you like it was your last, but it always felt like your first. Sure, the taste of blood wasn’t exactly what you expected sometimes, but in a weird way, it was soothing, kissing him was soothing. You pulled away after a while, breathless as you looked at each other.

The way he looked at you, it wasn’t like anything you’ve ever seen before. Your mom’s best friend who raised you always said that epic love was the best love. You had no idea what that meant, but now, looking at Jaemin like that and seeing him look at you like that, you understood what epic love was. What epic love felt like, truly. 

Just as you were about to lean in for another kiss, Minsoo came back and yelled “My eyes! My eyes!”

“Stop it! You’re just jealous!” Jaemin replied as you made your way to the car. It wasn’t a long drive back, but for some reason Hana fell asleep on Jisoo’s shoulder and you felt yourself drifting off as well.

You caught Minsoo looking at Jisoo and then Hana and then you before he sighed and closed his eyes. He didn’t notice you saw as he whispered “I’m sorry.” and let go of the wheel.

“Minsoo!” Jaemin yelled as the car started moving towards a tree, instead of staying on the road. Hana and Jisoo both woke up as your eyes widened at the sight. 

Before you knew it, the car crashed. As it hit the tree, Minsoo and Jaemin both looked at each other and checked on the three of you in the back. Jisoo and Hana were okay, but you, you were knocked out.

“y/n? y/n?! Stop playing! This isn’t funny!” Hana yelled, shaking your body as Jaemin felt tears rolling down his eyes “Don’t just stand there, check her pulse or something!” Jisoo yelled at Minsoo. 

He approached your body and tried to find a pulse. “It’s fading.” Minsoo replied, his voice breaking down as he said the words. “No, no, I’m not losing her. Not now, not ever.” Jaemin cried out.

Seeing your almost lifeless body, he felt powerless. He wanted to save you, but he couldn’t stop crying, the tears blurred his vision before Hana yelled “Jaemin! Let her drink your blood!”

Of course, turning her was the only way to save her. He felt like he should have been asking you for permission first, but it’s not like he could. He cut a vain on one of his wrists with fang and placed his wrist to your mouth.

“Please. I can’t lose you.” he cried out as Jisoo hugged Hana, who was also crying her eyes out. 

The 3 were too focused on you to notice the panic on Minsoo’s face. “I shouldn’t have done that, why did I do that? i didn’t want to.” He kept whispering to himself. 

If you died, and Jaemin couldn’t save you, it was on him and he knew that if Jaemin wasn’t going to kill him, Hana or Renjun or Jeno sure were, maybe even Jisoo. He knew that if you died, he could say goodbye to his life aswell.

“yes, that’s right, we’re almost there.” The man laughed to himself as he saw this all go on from his crystal ball

a/n: angst, so angst. much angst. i doubt dark haechan was that big of a plot twist (100% not for @hotlinehyuck​ bc i may have told her that dark hyuck will be in this part haha oops), but was the accident? you tell me! i’m pretty sure siren anon saw it coming one way or another....anyway, please tell me what you think! 

[searchingforenadi]

bleeding on the floor is still a safety hazard

aSK and you shall rECIEVE

i’m surprised more than three people enjoyed this subpar fic, but that only means y’all have to endure more.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

the brief summary: Your customers won’t stop bleeding in your shop. You realize this might be a problem. (second person!OC, TYL).

vii.

You’ve gone almost another month without any incidents and the moment you think this, you realize you must have jinxed yourself.

Gokudera grits his teeth, breathing out heavily and a pale sheen to his skin.

“Two,” he bites out, “coffees.”

You’d be flattered at how determined your regulars are, but you’re only mildly alarmed instead. 

You scan his upper torso - no visible injuries from what you can see. Choosing not to comment, you get started on the drinks. 

Swiftly, you pass over the cups and accept the cash dutifully. It’s clear he’s in pain and you won’t be the one keeping him from getting some help. 

Admirably, Gokudera makes it to the door before falling down with a defeated slump. You watch as the coffee spills majestically across the tiled floor. 

There is a long pause. 

Eventually, you have enough sense to grab a mop and, walking around the counter, approach Gokudera’s prone form. 

You look to the left. There is a trail of red lining the floor.

You look back to Gokudera. There is a switchblade jabbed inside his leg.

A wordless noise escapes your throat. 

“I,” you begin to say, bringing a hand to your face. “I am not qualified to deal with this.”

viii. 

The first thing you do is address the (possibly) dying man on your floor. 

Your muscles from kneading dough work in your favor as you flip Gokudera over to his back. He’s breathing, luckily, and it looks his wounded leg isn’t letting out a ton of blood.

Still, you’re nearly tempted to charge him through the roof for all the trouble.

You mutter an apology and pat him down - and find nothing. No phone, no ID. Just a blank wallet with several bills.

Mopping up the spilled coffee, you consider your options. Should you call the police? The emergency hotline? Grab a taxi to the nearest hospital?

You wipe down the floor as you are forced to admit that your regulars, your very well paying regulars, just might be on the wrong side of the law.

Is it a bad idea, then, to contact local authorities? Would Gokudera’s supposed gang be upset with you, then take those emotions out on you in a very harmful, unproductive way?

You need answers, and you needed them twenty minutes ago.

Crouching down, you check his pulse again and once again consider your (nonexistent) options. Rush hour will begin in an hour, but you know customers will trickle in at any time now. 

“Right,” you say aloud. With a grimace, you grab Gokudera under his arms and haul him into the kitchens.

This is the most unsanitary thing you’ve done in your entire career, but you’re most likely panicking, so this can be an exception. 

You drag him into the supply closet, being careful with the knife stuck in his leg. Peering into the dark, musty room, you give a sympathetic wince and dump him - as gently as possible - on the floor. 

Grabbing a roll of toilet paper, you set it under his lifeless head, before studying the blade sticking like a sore thumb.

It’s probably bad form to leave it in there, but you’re the last person to know what the appropriate response is to knife wounds. You pull out a thin pack of bandages from a cabinet - you use these when you burn your fingers on the oven. 

Apologizing again, you wrap the bandages around Gokudera’s leg, around the knife, as best you can. 

Minutes later, you stand, surveying your admittedly shoddy work. 

You’re relatively sure you have approached this situation in the worst way possible, but there’s still blood in your shop and the clock’s ticking before some unsuspecting customer walks in. 

Sorry, you think again, and close the door firmly shut. 

ix. 

An hour passes, leaving you to check on Gokudera as often as you can. He’s still alive, which is good, but still unconscious and with a knife in his leg - which is not so good.

The door opens right as you hand over a box of cake to a customer. It’s Yamamoto, eyes set and shoulders tense. 

You have never been so glad to see one of your regulars. 

“Hi,” you say, passing back some change to another customer. 

Yamamoto smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hey! The usual for me.”

You return the smile. What’s the best way to tell your customer that his friend is unconscious and bleeding in your supply closet?

Packing up a slice of tiramisu, you accept the bills from him over the counter, before leaning slightly forward.

“Uh,” you say, trying your best to look very casual. “So, I have something that belongs to you.”

Yamamoto raises an eyebrow as he accepts the boxed cake. “Oh?”

You rack your brain for a set of words that would be appropriate and not alarming, and fall short. 

“Just,” you run a hand through your hair and glance around the shop. It looks empty enough. “Follow me? Please?”

Bemusedly, he follows you, cake and sword, into the kitchens. He glances around the room before joining you at the supply closet.

You clear your throat.

“I would like to start by saying that I appreciate the dedication,” you tell him. It’s important to show your customers how much you value them. “But this is a little too much.”

Then, with little fanfare, you swing open the door.

There is a long silence.

Something in the air relaxes, a sort of tension you hadn’t noticed until now. 

Yamamoto steps into the supply closet, humming in interest. 

“This explains a lot,” he murmurs, prodding a hand around Gokudera’s wound. 

You wince at the poor bandage work. “Yeah, sorry. Should I have called an ambulance?”

He lets out a laugh. “No, this is fine.”

You join him into the closet, crouching down by his side.

Yamamoto turns to face you, something thoughtful in his eyes. “Do you have a backdoor?”

“... I do,” you say, feeling the atmosphere shift into something exponentially more shady and suspect.

He studies you carefully, briefly, and then smiles. “Great! Let me make a quick phone call.”

“Okay,” you say, a little too late, as he walks out the door. Glancing back at Gokudera’s still form, it suddenly occurs to you - does this make you an accomplice? Does stashing the body of a possible gang member make you an accomplice? 

Did you just break the law?

x. 

In a matter of minutes, a sleek, black car drives up to your backdoor and Gokudera is promptly shoved into the backseat. 

“Thanks for this,” Yamamoto says, completely ignoring the men in black suits that strap Gokudera in with a seat belt.

“Well, I couldn’t leave him on the floor like that,” you tell him, still reeling from the possibility that you might be a criminal. 

Yamamoto laughs, brown eyes brightening. “That’s true.”

He leaves with the car not long after, waving a cheery goodbye. 

You wave back, before heading back into the shop. 

Standing in the kitchens, head buzzing, you dig your hands into your hair - and release a wordless shriek.

xi. 

You continue the week on near auto-pilot, running through the motions for every customer.

Technically speaking, you argue, you haven’t done anything wrong. In fact, you could even claim complete ignorance. Your regulars have never shared their occupation with you - it’s entirely possible Gokudera and Yamamoto are simple salesmen at a local store. 

Even beyond those unlikely ideas, your dad used to remind you about the importance of keeping a good relationship with criminal authorities. 

You used to think he was exaggerating his childhood in southern Italy, but now, it’s clear you had been the fool all along.

After another few days of running your mind in circles, you throw in the proverbial towel. You’ll worry about your impending arrest when it actually comes around.

That afternoon, your door opens to Gokudera, walking into the shop with only the slightest of limps.

“Hi,” you say politely. It’s nice to know that your efforts, at least, had not led to someone’s death. “The usual?”

Gokudera tugs at his tie before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, sure.”

You take this as a sign that you should not bring up last week. 

Pouring the coffee into a cup, you accept the cash (cash, you suddenly think, they always pay in cash) and hand over the drink.

“It’s good to see you again,” you tell him seriously, as he takes the cup. It’s the closest thing to a warning you can give, because you’ve cleaned up more blood this year than you probably ever should have.

Gokudera pauses from taking a sip of his coffee.

“... yeah,” he says gruffly. “Thanks.”

You blink as he stalks out the door. 

Suddenly, you feel as if your words have been taken completely out of context.

xii. 

That night, an enormous, gift-wrapped fruit basket is delivered right at your doorstep. 

“... the hell?” you prod the plastic wrapping - the ribbon tied on top ruffles in the wind. 

This… is a lot of fruit. You have never seen this much fruit in your entire life. 

You haul the fruit basket inside your apartment. It takes up most of your kitchen counter. 

The size of the basket is a statement in itself, but now you're stuck because how the hell are you going to use up all this fruit?

You glance up to the ribbon on top and notice a small card tied through it. With some effort, you remove it without sending several pounds of fruit tumbling onto the ground. 

Inside the card, it reads -

Thank you for the help. - Tsuna. 

You pause, and bring the card closer to your face, squinting at the words.

Why, you wonder, is Tsuna sending you a fruit basket when Gokudera had been the one to get shanked?

-o-o-o-o-o-

no physical sign of Tsuna, which is sad, but he’s a little busy with his other occupation. on the brighter side, how else will you get closer with the local mafia if you don’t smuggle at least one (1) body? regardless, MC is now envisioning their hypothetical journey into a double-life in crime.

it’s nice to see that i’m not the only person with this brand of dumbass humor, but, guys - still. 

[thegeminisage]

How Arthur Got His Groove Back [MASTERPOST]

now that this fic is FINALLY 100% complete & posted, i wanted a place to collect all of the stuff related to it - so here it is! sorry it’s so long, and thank you so, so much to everyone who read and commented on this fic as i was writing and posting it...this has been such an awesome ride 💖

Summary:

(Canon-divergent AU after episode 2.08 Sins of the Father.)

Arthur Pendragon is at an all-time low: he's still suffering from the day he nearly dueled his father to the death, his sword arm has been wounded so grievously he may never fight again, and, worst of all, every last soul in Camelot and the kingdoms beyond have had magic forced on them overnight. Now Arthur must contend with the chaos of magic run rampant, his father's dangerous instability, Morgana's increasing distance, catching Merlin in more lies than he can count, and the magic that is now threatening to consume him—all while searching for a way to break the curse before it consumes them all.

It's not going to be easy: Arthur grapples with a destiny he's not sure he can handle, and a past he'd rather forget—and if he wants to save his people, he must be prepared to confront hard truths and harder choices. It's a trial by fire, one that risks destroying everything Arthur has left to hold dear should he fail. But with enough courage, enough understanding, and maybe just a touch of magic, there's nothing he can't face.

[story tag on tumblr - contains rough drafts & extras] [entire fic on ao3]

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Chapter I: The Curse of Camelot

"I did not—use—magic!" Arthur shouts, and on the very last word his eyes light up again, and a brilliant plume of fire shoots right out of the palm of his injured hand, melting a hole in a nearby snowbank.

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Chapter II: The Battle Wound

"Your hand will heal eventually, but..." Merlin hesitates, and then lets the axe fall: "I don't know if your grip will ever be what it was."

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Chapter III: The Sorcerer’s Tale

Morgana spits, "You have magic." Merlin says nothing and she adds, "You were born with it."

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Chapter IV: The Burning Prince

This sorcerer's death—it's fitting for a man who can't control this curse. Arthur's going to burn just like the rest of them, and good riddance. For what he's done, for what he's caused: good riddance.

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Chapter V: The Dead of Night

It's nearly pitch-black inside the hall, the air dusty and stale. Not a soul has dared enter here since the day Arthur was born. He is the first to breathe this air, to set foot on these floors, in over two decades.

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Chapter VI: The Duel on the Watchtower

"Did you not say once that I deserved to die?" his father hisses, golden-eyed. "Think of the things I've done, Arthur! Did you not want to put a stop to it?"

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Chapter VII: The Witch’s Pique

And in the darkness of the corridor, her eyes still alight, Morgana whispers, "He'd kill me if he knew."

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Chapter VIII: Those Forged By Fire

Guinevere takes Arthur by the shoulders, then, and looks him in the eye. "Don't give up," she says. "There is still hope, for you and Morgana both. Don't give up."

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Chapter IX: The Dragon’s Blessing

"Blood stains your hands and your soul," the dragon agrees. "But do you feel remorse, Arthur Pendragon? Do you wish to atone?"

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Chapter X: The Black Dagger

"You need not fear," Arthur tells Gaius, voice gone quiet. "Today I want only to talk." His eyes meet Merlin's. "And, perhaps, to listen."

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Chapter XI: The Isle of the Blessed

"Emrys?" Arthur whispers. The orb floats closer. Hand trembling, he reaches out to touch it.

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Chapter XII: Forbærnan

Arthur thinks about it sometimes, when even a spring breeze feels too cool, or he passes the forge and sees a sword glowing hot as the iron strikes. There's a word he whispers to himself when he's alone, hand held out and too empty.

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EXTRAS:

a kickass gifset by @maulthots​

Fireforged, a graphics/playlist combo by @sayabenz​

sequel thoughts in an ask meme answer​

meta about symbolism in the fic in an ask meme answer