PANDORA'S BOX

a closed rp blog for blook's OCs. mutuals only. dni.

[sunblxdes]

CHASE | HANJAE | LANA | TAGS | RULES

—

Sunblxdes is a mutuals-only, CLOSED RP blog of Marvel adjacent OCs. Mun will only write and interact with plotted mutuals, and the characters are not open to the public rp space. Written by Blook. // Follows from @mikablook.

If we are not mutuals and you would like to write with me, please do so at @bobrvynolds.

[sunblxdes]

It's hard to describe how he feels about Dex. // @deadarmed

Chase found out on a random weekday through a text conversation that neither of them really expected. It probably wasn't such a good idea keeping in contact frequently, despite both of them having burner phones; but the universe really loved leading him to one Benjamin Poindexter. Hilarious.

And loved it did.

B.P [21:05 Read] I love you. C [21:05 Read] What? B.P [21:08 Read] Fuck. Sorry. C [21:08 Read] No, no. It's okay. I'll sleep over tonight.

His phone screen glows blue in the dark of the rooftop, dark eyes fixated on those three words. I love you. Chase's ears burn. There's faint sounds of New York multiple stories beneath him, but he finds himself listening in for a familiar heartbeat somewhere.

The younger considers saying it back. He wanted to say it back. To type the same three words, to make sure Dex knew it was mutual. His thumb hovers over the letters. New York continues making noise.

It didn't feel right though, to admit something so vulnerable over text. Old-fashioned as he was, he'd rather utter those precious three words in person.

So Chase doesn't.

Dex starts pulling away just a few days after.

---

Bullseye was an assassin that Chase never expected to come after him. Apart from working in completely different sectors, Dex would not get any kind of fulfillment killing him. Sure, he worked with Matt a few times, but Fisk had almost nothing on him.

Maybe that's what he wanted. Information.

Chase knew the marksman had been following him around. He begins to doubt if his security measures need upgrading, or he'd just been too lenient; but he was still found. Maybe with too much effort, who knows. Bullseye had always been a wildcard.

His knowledge of the man was limited. Chase knew of his AVTF killings. Ray Nadeem. Foggy Nelson. Vanessa Fisk. Not decorated enough to rival his own, but the kills themselves were interesting. Most of them with a throwing knife to the head. Forks. Pens. Sometimes he ricocheted bullets. Whatever the vigilante could get his hands on was a weapon.

He was the weapon.

Which made researching him much more entertaining.

FBI cams were easy to obtain. All within a certain date. Street cameras. Phone calls. Emails, texts. Everything he could get his hands on to know who exactly Dex was. How he worked. How he made decisions, what made him this way. As far as he knew, Dex was an upstanding citizen all his life. Army. FBI SWAT. Had a proper apartment and lived for at least 30 years with no crime, except for his elementary school baseball coach.

Better than his own record.

Everything else came easy. Medical records. Notes from his long-time therapist, Dr. Mercer, who unfortunately died from cancer when Dex was a teenager. His diagnoses, which medications he took. Despite the rich data that he'd come across, his therapy recordings were nowhere to be found. On purpose, most likely.

The hunter combs through the files. Phone calls first, so he could listen while doing errands. Research was the best part of his job. (The widows would smack him on the head and disagree. That first decade in the Korean school system really did a number on him.)

One particular call eerily stood out.

▶ [ AUD_Recording0048.wav ] - 00:45

Fisk's voice crackles on the other line. .. and she accepted me. Without shame. That's what I want for you. Someone to accept you, without shame. I do. And I've sent you a gift, an opportunity to become your true self. And if you accept this, unlike everyone else in your life.. .. I will never abandon you.

The call ends abruptly. Nothing from Dex.

Fisk was an odd man. Akin to most of the politicians he'd killed, but he knew what to say and who to say it to. Knew his way around people, studied their weaknesses and tics and used them to his advantage. Yes, he knew many men like Wilson Fisk. The world could use less of them.

Chase quickly checks the date, tries to piece together what exactly happened after that phone call.

He scans through other files. Video. Pictures. More audio. Blurry street cams.

It clicks soon enough: this was the night of The Bulletin murders.

That night was splashed on the papers the morning after. He vaguely remembers seeing a few texts from Matt, and then the FBI and NPD going to crowd the scene. His memory is finicky. Not my circus, Matt. I'm sorry. Chase didn't lie. He had no reason to. It's not that he didn't want to help, nor was he complacent of what Fisk is doing to Hell's Kitchen. To New York. God knows how much he hated the man and everything he stood for. But there's more pressing matters that he had to attend to; mainly the scent of all that human flesh and blood that would soon attract a slew of vampires their way. He worked in the dark. He wanted to stay down there.

Everything that followed was a landslide. "Daredevil" hunting Karen. Fisk continuing to manipulate Dex's fragile psyche from the inside. He watches every single video, every single available recording, and there's a knot in his stomach that won't go away. Dex's spiral painfully mirrored his own.

Failed by everyone he'd put trust to. Used for his abilities, for what he can do for others, and never again given the stability he so desperately craved. Taken away everything that was keeping him in check. Mercer. Julie Barnes. The FBI. Fisk, to some extent. A routine to let him do good instead of what Fisk had him doing. It was a complex situation. He was watching a man without empathy, who felt too much, who had once brushed with death, with nothing and no one to fully go home to.

Chase closes the laptop and takes a slow, deep breath.

---

The bed is cold.

Colder than he's used to. The serum does nothing to keep him warm this time.

He finds himself scrolling up to those three words frequently. Then towards Dex's delivered messages.

The last one was two weeks ago. Chase figures the vigilante had given up at this point. He still hasn't replied.

I love you too.

I love you so much it's going to ruin me.

I didn't want to fall, Dex.

I love you. I love you. I love you-

There had been at least 3 AVTF murders around West Village. Knives left messages, all for him. Chase feels like throwing up.

He ignores all the unread messages from other people and scrolls up further.

B.P [20:45 Read] He's been bleeding this city dry for years. C [20:45 Read] Can't argue with that. B.P [20:46 Read] He ruins lives. C [20:47 Read] And after? After he's dead? I'll think about it. B.P [20:47 Read] I'm not sure. But it would be over. I'd be free. We could leave. Go west. Go anywhere. C [20:50 Read] Okay, Dex. Anywhere you want.

Before Chase could scroll up further, Yelena's name pops up a few times.

Lena [02:55 Unread] he's done it again he's begging, chase are you ok?

Fuck. Fuck. He feels his composure slip. Ten hangs around the borders of his consciousness, itching to come out, to stop him from doing something so incredibly stupid. The alter tells him no. No, no. Tae. He betrayed you. He had no fucking reason to, and he did-- just to see what would happen, just to see how you'd react. Do you want someone like that around you?

Lena [03:01 Unread] you can sleep over tonight bob says he'll stream for us

His hands are shaking. That hasn't happened in a long time.

Sunsets. West Village. Knives. Diners, stupid banana milkshakes, combat boots. Top Gun, 'you'd look good in a bomber jacket', first-aid kits. Blood. Hazel.

Dropping his phone on the mattress, he feels himself wanting to explode. Unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to feel anything but the tears threatening to spill out of him.

This was the cost of love. Something so fucking trivial and romanticized, and so painfully human. The hunter clutches his head in his hands, trying to focus on anything but familiar eyes and messy blonde hair.

Slow breaths. One, two, three. One, two. Stand up, soldier.

Chase gets up and puts a hoodie on, heading to the direction of the ambulance sirens.

[maxxie-or-smth]

maybe it's time to try religious psychosis

[asystolle]

Paris & Jess in GILMORE GIRLS 2.16 | There's the Rub

[jadedfadedalmostgone]

[mythshire]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ··· a collection of medical tension, hospital corridors, life & death stakes sentence starters. genre: medical drama, hurt and comfort, high stakes. 

• You shouldn't be working this shift—you're running on fumes. • I need you to trust me right now, okay? Can you do that? • When was the last time you actually slept? • Your hands are shaking. Let me take over. • I can't lose another patient today. I can't. • You're not fine. Don't lie to me, I can read your vitals from here. • We did everything we could. Sometimes that's not enough. • I'm calling it. Time of death— • No, no, no. Come on. Stay with me. • You need to step back. You're too close to this case. • I saw what happened in there. Are you okay? • The family's asking for you. I think you should talk to them. • How long have you been covering up these symptoms? • I don't know how to tell them their kid didn't make it. • Your shift ended three hours ago. Go home. • I've never seen you panic like that before. • We have a code blue! • You can't save everyone. You know that, right? • I need two units of O-neg!  • Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? • I found you passed out in the supply closet. • You remember that patient from six months ago? They're back. • I think I'm having a panic attack.  • Congratulations, Doctor. First solo surgery, right? • The board's asking questions about what happened during that code. • I can't feel my hands anymore. • Someone needs to tell the attending they made the wrong call. • I'm not supposed to be treating family, but here we are. • Your patient in bed seven? That's my sister. • They're crashing—get the crash cart! • I need you to walk me through what went wrong. • You stayed with them. All night. Why? • I haven't eaten in fourteen hours and I'm starting to see double. • The transplant list just got longer and our donor didn't make it. • You can't keep taking the hard cases. It's killing you. • I heard you crying in the stairwell. • This is exactly the kind of case that ended your last relationship. • Your ex just got admitted to our floor. • I'm sorry, there's nothing more we can do. It's palliative now. • You need to scrub out. Now. • I pulled a double and now I can't remember if I already gave that medication. • The family wants to sue. They're naming you specifically. • I know we said no relationships between attendings and residents, but— • You operated on them for eleven hours straight. • I'm not cleared to come back yet, but I'm here anyway. • Whose blood is that on your coat? • The on-call room is not for sleeping anymore, apparently. • You've been charting for three hours. Go take a break. • I made a mistake in there. A big one. • Your first loss always hits different, doesn't it? • They left AMA and now they're back, worse than before.

[mythshire]

※.·:·.※ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐖 ··· a collection of chosen bonds, found family, & unconditional belonging roleplay sentence starters. genre: platonic love, hurt and comfort, loyalty.

• You know you don't have to keep checking on me, right? I'm fine. • How are you? Wait, did I ask that already? • I don't know what I'd do without you. I mean that. • Oh, God. I thought something happened to you. Don't scare me like that. • You're not alone in this. You know that, right? • We're family. That's what we do. We show up. • Make yourself at home, okay? This is your place too now. • Get out of here with that. You're not a burden. Don't ever say that again. • Is there anything you need? Food? A blanket? Someone to just sit with you? • So, what's next for us? • I have to admit there's a small part of me that's terrified you'll wake up one day and realize you don't need me anymore... that you'll leave. • It's just... I've never had this before. People who stay. • Why are you still here? I mean, you could go anywhere. Be with anyone. • I know I'm not easy to deal with. But thank you. For staying anyway. • [Name], I don't know what I'm doing half the time, okay? But I know I'm not doing it without you. • I don't really know where else I'd want to be, except right here. • You're the best thing that ever happened to me, you know that? • I really think you saved my life. Not dramatically. Just... by being here. • Hey. Bad dream? Come here. I've got you. • You don't owe me anything. This is what family does • Stop apologizing. You're allowed to need help. • I made your favorite. Thought you could use some comfort food today. • You look exhausted. When's the last time you actually slept? • I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me, remember? • We've been through worse. We'll get through this too. • You don't have to be strong all the time. Not with me. • I brought you something. It's stupid, but it made me think of you. • Come on. Let's get you home. • You matter to me. More than you know. • I've got your back. Always have, always will. • You're shaking. Here, take my jacket. • I know you're scared. It's okay to be scared. • You did good today. Really good. • I'm proud of you. I don't say that enough. • Stop pushing me away. I'm not leaving. • You think I'd let you face this alone? Not a chance. • I'll stay up with you. I don't mind. • You're safe here. I promise. • Tell me what you need. Anything. • You don't have to pretend with me. • I trust you. Completely. • You've got this. And if you don't, we've got this. • I'd do anything for you. You know that, right? • You're not too much. You're never too much. • This is your home now. For as long as you want it. • I'll fight for you if you can't fight for yourself right now. • You make me want to be better. A better person. • I chose you. I keep choosing you. Every day. • You're allowed to fall apart. I'll hold the pieces until you're ready.

[vvnnie]

West Village // Instagram / Website

[sunblxdes]

(( we've been at this for half an hour fuckin dying @deadarmed ))

[iruutciv]

Hi I've been raised from the dead by a new ice gay show how is everyone else doing

[deadarmed]

sender kills someone and the blood splatters on receiver 𖣠 from chase @sunblxdes

The back of his skull hits the wall with a wet crack, setting off an fireworks show in his vision. Dex's head lolls forward, only for the creature to catch his jaw and shove him back into the brick.

There's a way out of this. A weapon he can use. An angle he can hit. But the hand at his belt comes up empty -- his knives are still hilt-deep in the belly of one of the vamps they'd flushed out earlier. He should have grabbed them, should have grabbed anything, but there’d been no time. Through the haze of adrenaline, or anger, or whatever his misfiring amygdala is currently kicking up in spades, he thinks: Shit.

There are good ways to die. Preferable ones. He's sampled several, though none have stuck yet. But it takes little imagination to place trachea ripped out by frenzied newborn low on that list. All the downsides of death without the primary, considerable upside. It's almost funny, in some shitty, cosmic sense.

The vampire's breath is humid on his throat. Before Dex can move, its body jerks, milky eyes gone wide. And then blood sprays his face, his chest, soaking his suit dark as the fine point of a silver bolt splits through the bridge of the vampire’s nose. It groans, twitching, then slumps forward into the crook of his neck.

Dead.

Dex kicks the body back and lets it drop.

The bolt’s fletching protrudes from the back of the creature’s skull. A clean shot. He knows without looking whose work it is, but he looks anyway. There: a few paces back. Familiar eyes over a familiar mask. Chase.

Dex leans back against the wall, sloughing the blood off his eyelids with a gloved hand. He’s in no rush to test his footing after his head got used like a bell clapper, and he's not about to ask Chase for a hand. When it comes to the soldier, the scales are already tipped too far out of favor for his comfort.

"Coulda let it happen,” he rasps. He should have. It made no sense, stepping in. Chase could have leveled the field without dirtying his hands. It takes more effort than usual to draw up a grin and make it look easy. “Now’m gonna start thinking you want me around."

[sunblxdes]

He truly didn't mean to save the man. Again. Chase has had it with the universe fucking with him by making PoindexterDex a mandatory stop every time he runs into some trouble. He's always at the right borough, in the right street, tucked in at just the right corner for Chase to get a glimpse of his now recognizable heartbeat.

Fuck. This was getting to him.

New York is becoming unbearably small.

The hunter watches as the vampire's body hits the floor. He throws a small stake towards the creature's chest-- over the heart-- just to make sure. There's blood splattered on the concrete and the strong scent of burning ash. He'd have to clean his boots later.

He doesn't put down the silver dagger that's still pointing towards Dex. Chase steps closer until the tip barely touches his throat, remnants of the vampire's blood staining the metal; and lightly digs it into the vigilante's skin. His lips quirk up underneath the mask.

"Don't flatter yourself." Dark eyes skim over Dex's figure for any injuries that would need immediate tending. He doesn't know why that was his first instinct, but Chase chucks it off to the muscle memory of protocol when dealing with civilians. Yeah, that's probably it.

The hunter feels his stomach turn.

Sheathing the dagger back, Chase looks at the man grin and his hands find themselves looking for comfort in the pockets of his hoodie; tugging on the fraying strands of thread inside them.

"You really need to stop being in my area. Red-light districts are fucking swarmed this time of the year. Better start paying me too if you want me to haul your ass out every single time."

[huffy-the-bicycle-slayer]

If you mess up a social interaction you can say "Failed Experiment" and move on

[weevil-eggs-deactivated20260708]

i just explode

[djotime]

Visit Original Link

[mx-m29]

just a normal juggling gif, nothing weird about it

[sunblxdes]

🪞🧨🕊️ for chase

SYMBOL HEADCANON QUESTIONS.

🪞 : Do they look at themselves in mirrors, or avoid them? Why?

As often as the regular person, maybe a little less. He's not very particular with how he presents himself to other people, nor does Chase really care about how he looks. He does know he's above average, and has used this fact to help him on missions or manipulate targets while undercover. Chase also loves to dress up. There's times of derealization where he doesn't feel entirely there. This is a symptom of the amount of electroshock torture he'd been given, and a clear signal of his soldier alter fronting. Chase finds that looking at himself in the mirror helps.

🧨 : What pushes them past the point of restraint?

A couple of things. Mentions of HYDRA agents, namely his handlers. Threats towards his little sister. People who get in the way of his job. Someone hurting animals. Not much, really. You have to really get into his inner psyche and pain points to elicit an intense reaction. Chase is a deeply repressed person-- and it applies towards everything he does, especially his emotions. He doesn't see feeling as a weakness, but it was stripped out of him for so long that he doesn't know how to handle them very well. So he blocks them off, just like everything else.

🕊️ : Do they believe in forgiveness? For themselves? In others?

I definitely think he does. Chase is morally very self-serving. He's true neutral, and operates in a way where his decisions about certain things and certain people can change overtime. He, however, does not keep grudges. It weighs heavy on him. He views humanity as sort of a food chain, where pain and death is merely nature culling itself. He's accepted deeply that anyone he loves has a risk of dying at the hands of others. Of his enemies. Of his friends. If said people asked him for forgiveness with sufficient proof and sincerity, there's always a chance that he would.

[fatimazainab]

Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

[zachrp]

ᝰ🚬 𝚉𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙿 .ᐟ SYMBOL HEADCANON QUESTIONS. CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT.

EVERYDAY LIFE / DOMESTIC

📋 : how organized is your muse?

✅ : what do they pretend to have together that they don't?

🕰️ : what time do they naturally wake up when no one needs them?

☕ : what's their morning ritual, and what happens when it's disrupted?

🧺 : how often do they do laundry?

🪞 : do they look at themselves in mirrors, or avoid them? why?

🍽️ : do they eat to survive, for pleasure, or as comfort?

🏠 : what part of their living space reflects them the most?

🌱 : do they keep plants, and are those plants alive?

🧼 : what's something they're weirdly particular about being clean?

📺 : what do they put on when they don't want to think?

SOCIALIZATION / CONNECTION

🗣️ : are they better one-on-one, or in groups?

📱 : do they text back immediately, or let messages rot?

🫥 : how often do they pretend to be fine to keep the peace?

🎭 : how different are they with strangers versus people they trust?

🤝 : do they make friends easily, or accidentally?

🧠 : what do they assume people think about them?

🌘 : how hard is it to really know them?

🎉 : do they enjoy social events, or endure them?

🪑 : are they the type to leave early without saying goodbye?

INTROSPECT / INTERNAL LANDSCAPE

🕵️‍♀️ : how often does your muse think about death?

🧩 : what part of themselves do they not understand yet?

🫀 : what emotion scares them the most?

👣 : do they believe they deserve good things?

🧱 : what walls are they aware of building? which ones are they not aware of?

🕳️ : what do they spiral about at night?

📉 : what's their most common self-criticism?

💀 : do they trust their own memories?

🌊 : what emotion do they drown in when they're alone?

PERSONAL / DEEP / TRAUMA-ADJACENT

🩸 : what wound shaped them the most, even if they won't admit it?

🔥 : what moment do they replay when they're ashamed?

🧷 : who failed them first?

🕯️ : what do they grieve that no one else sees as a loss?

🪤 : what pattern do they keep falling back into?

🧨 : what pushes them past the point of restraint?

🧬 : what did they inherit emotionally from their caregivers?

🕶 : what lie do they tell themselves to survive?

🩹 : what actually helps them heal, even if it's unhealthy?

HABITS / VICES / COPING

🚬 : what vice do they justify the most?

🍺 : do they drink to socialize, numb, or celebrate?

💊 : what's their relationship with substances, past or present?

🏃 : do they move their body to feel alive or to punish it?

🛏️ : how do they sleep when things are bad?

🎧 : what kind of music gets them through the worst days?

🖊️ : do they write things down or let thoughts rot in their head?

☔️ : do they intellectualize pain instead of feeling it?

🕳️ : what habit would unravel them if taken away?

SEXUALITY / INTIMACY

🫠 : is it easy for them to get turned on, or do they need emotional safety first?

💞 : do they separate sex and feelings, or blur them dangerously?

🛑 : what's an immediate turn-off for them?

🔥 : do they crave intensity or stability?

🤲 : do they like being in control, or giving it up?

🪶 : are they gentle with people they desire?

🍒 : how do they feel about their own body during intimacy?

🎱 : what do they need to feel wanted?

🔒 : do they guard intimacy, or give it too freely?

💔 : have they ever used sex to avoid something?

MORALITY / CHOICES

⚖️ : what line will they never cross?

🩶 : what line have they already crossed and justified? or regret?

🧭 : do they believe they're a good person?

🔪 : what would they do if survival demanded cruelty?

🪙 : what do they value more, loyalty or truth?

🚪 : who would they abandon if forced to choose?

🕊️ : do they believe in forgiveness? for themselves? in others?

🧨 : what would make them snap permanently?

📜 : what promise do they regret making?

🪦 : what hill would they die on?