#Fast access camera bag

[bevisgear33]

Easy Access Camera Bag | Bevis Gear

The Easy Access Camera Bag from Bevis Gear is designed for photographers on the go, providing quick and convenient access to your equipment without compromising on protection. With its innovative side-access design, you can effortlessly reach your camera and lenses, ensuring you're always ready to capture the perfect shot. The bag features customizable compartments to securely hold your gear, along with padded dividers for added protection. Whether you're shooting in the city or the great outdoors, the Easy Access Camera Bag offers comfort, durability, and style, making it the perfect companion for your photography adventures.

[anmolsmsblog]

Spigen Polyvinyl Chloride, Polypropylene Aqua Shield Waterproof Pouch Bag with Waist Strap Compatible for iPhone Samsung Galaxy OnePlus Xiaomi Google and up to 8.7 inches (2 Pack, Black)

Price: (as of – Details) Spigen Aqua Shield Waterproof Pouch Bag with waist strap Compatible with iPhone Samsung Galaxy OnePlus Xiaomi Google and up to 8.7 Inches (2 Pack) – Black Make sure to test before using the product with a piece of cloth in the bag under the water for an hour. Check the cloth and DO NOT use if it gets wet and contact us for further assistance.2 in 1 Pack for water sports…

[elfven-blog]

Proven Right

Summary: Leon has been fascinated with his neighbour for 5 years now, and he finally comes back from Spain with a plan. RE4!Leon Kennedy x F!Reader CW: MDNI, 18+ only, Stalking, camera watching, compromising picture, mutual masturbation , p in v, creampie (if I have missed any please let me know)

Word count: 3K

It had started when he had moved out of the training dorms and finally into his own apartment. There had been a subtle scent of peaches float past his open door as he moved the meagre number of possessions he had into the small apartment. It had been 5 years since then, and yeah, he could have moved since then. Lord knows he could afford it, but that would also mean moving away from you.

The scent of peaches quickly became his favourite, after he’d managed to befriend you over the years and had access to your home he’d found some of the products you used. The peach scrub, peach body mist and some of the lip gloss you wore too…he had duplicates of all of them. He’d even brought the same shampoo and conditioner as you once but then you made a comment about how you preferred his previous smell, and he quickly went back to that.

It wasn’t just your scent that he had adopted, he learnt to cook some of your favourite food (loving the look on your face when he had ‘extra’ and the way you’d bake him brownies in response), he’d watched your favourite film over and over until he had it memorised and could make offhand comments when you watched it together, and he’d even read up on that game with zombies that you seemed so obsessed with. Had even helped you beat some of the harder fights…and God Leon has sworn to get better video games, the way you watched with awe as he fired the virtual gun and how you flung your arms around him and pulled him so tight that he could feel your breasts press up against him.

Maybe he had that banked in his memory store to use in the shower.

“Lee! Oh my god, are you okay?” He was pulled from his trailing mind at the sound of that sweet voice as he turned from his door to look at you. Dishevelled, door open most of the way, slippers on his feet and it looked like you had rushed to the door at the sound of his key in his own doors lock. But wait…was that his shirt? He thought he had lost it months ago; he must have left it at yours during one of your many movie nights. You could keep it, looked so much better on you. “I was so worried”.

About him? You’re so sweet. He smiles at you, nodding his head and moving away from his door to wrap his arms around you. This wasn’t an odd amount of affection for the both of you. Leon felt himself relax as your arms wrapped around him too, squeezing him tight. “Sorry darling, they really needed me at the other branch”.

He felt you pat his back, and he pulled away so you wouldn’t get uncomfortable with too long of a hug. You smile up at him as you both pull back, and he notices the bags under your eyes before you shrug at him “It’s okay, missed our weekly sleepover but you can make it up to me this weekend?” Leon had never nodded so fast.

He watched as you walked back into your apartment before opening his own and moving in through the door.

When Leon received your message that you had finished work, and he could come over he felt his heart race. He stared at himself in the mirror as he finished getting ready, making sure to use that cologne he’d noticed you seemed to enjoy. Always leaning closer when he wore it.

He had plan. Today, tonight. It would work.

Leon watched his phone on the counter as he made sure his cuts were covered and nothing would be too painful, the screen lit up with the inside of your apartment. And there you were, flitting around to make sure there were enough blankets and snacks, and you had even gone out and brought his favourite drink.

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Something that would be immensely helpful tonight, these cameras that he’d helped you install for security reasons. It felt like pure luck when you asked him for that help, learning what make and company the camera was meant it was much easier to hack into. And getting one of the IT specialists to do it was even easier with his clearance. ‘Just want to see if I should get a different one if this is too easy get into’.

He moved out of the bathroom, phone still in hand as he grabbed the snacks he’d gone and brought for the both of you. Once he’d made sure his door was locked, triple checking just in case, it was mere seconds before he was letting himself into your apartment. Something you both often did when expecting each other, no need to knock. “Hey! Brought snacks” his rough timbre sounded out and you replied with a short ‘Living room!’.

He took his boots off at the door, making his way to where you were, smiling at you as he put the snacks down before sitting close to you on the sofa. His arm resting on the back, and his legs spreading. Leon had worn those jeans you’d complimented, the ones that hugged his legs in a way that showed the muscle he’d spent years building. You could never keep your eyes off his thighs in these jeans, and then you’d spend the rest of the night with your hand between your own.

You didn’t question the position he put himself in, it feels almost natural to be this close to him, to have his warmth permeate into your side as you leant your head back against his arm. You pulled the thick blanket over both of you, Leons brows furrowing as it covered the sight of his legs, so he pushed it off him and pulled it to cover more of you. When you turned your head to look at him he shrugged and mumbled an excuse of not being cold right now. You accepted the reason with a nod before asking what movie he wanted to watch.

The blonde pretended to think for a moment before taking the remote and putting a movie on, “This one’s meant to be good…haven’t seen it yet” He knew you hadn’t either, and there was no indication of the special part in this movie, one he knew would get you biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together.

And it’s bit further into the movie where he’s proven right, you’ve been stealing glances at him all night. Your eyes lingering on his legs and the arm around the back of the sofa, which has, for unknown reasons, managed to slip down to round your waist. His fingers drawing circles across the soft skin of your waist. Distractingly. But you manage to keep your eyes on the screen, not wanting to ruin whatever friendship you’d built with the man and worried that he would never feel the same.

You had understood why he picked this movie, a great distraction from the ‘government job’ he’d told you he had. Never telling you specifics but it had him away for days at a time so it must be tiresome. But you hadn’t expected a full 10 minutes of sex to play part way during it, and by the way he sighed, and a pink dusted his cheeks neither had Leon. It was a good movie; you could power through a few minutes…okay 5 that’s a good length…10? Why’s it still going.

Eyes glued to the screen as your breath shallowed, and thighs pressed together you tried to pretend it wasn’t affecting you. That you weren’t imagining your hot blonde neighbour being the one to bend you over that desk like the protagonist currently was to the partner he had. That you weren’t thinking of him drawing those slow circles somewhere else.

Leons hasn’t been paying attention to the movie since the scene began, to focused on the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips, or how your hand twitches against the blanket. His hand moves a little lower, pulling you closer to him and you don’t even realise. Just sink into his side. Your eyes almost have no colour, his hand plays with the band of your shorts. He moves himself slowly, legs pressed against yours and your head turns lightly.

A small gasp you hope he didn’t hear as you snap your head back to the screen. Pretending you didn’t see the bulge in his jeans, that it didn’t cause your pussy to flicker and fill with slick. This time it’s your turn to move, and hope Leon doesn’t notice. Your hand settles on his thigh, close but not where he wants it. Of course, he’s noticed, in fact he slides down in the seat. Your hand resting over his cock from where it strains in the fabric, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

His hips rolled up into your hand with a low groan, and you palmed at him wanting to hear more. Were you really doing this? Letting your neighbour use your hand to get off? Yes, God yes. It was then that you noticed his own hand had slipped below your shorts and suddenly you felt embarrassed.

“No underwear, sweet girl?” The tips of your ears turned red as one of his fingers slipped between your wet lips, gathering slick before swirling at your clit. “How brave, maybe you were hoping this would happen?” Just like him, except he didn’t hope, he knew. Just like he planned.

He drew a moan out of you as your thighs spread to give him more access, your own hand shakily moving to undo his jeans so you could pull him out. His head fell back at the contact of your cool hand on his hot skin, it felt so much better than he ever could imagine. His hand dipped further down to tease at your hole as it clenched around nothing, smiling at the sweet noises you gave him. They sounded so much better in person then on the shitty mic quality of the camera. Gifting you his owns whines as your hand squeezed the base of his cock before moving up at a slow teasing pace.

Neither of you paying attention to the movie playing, your head falling back onto his shoulder, and he took this opportunity to lean forward and lick his tongue into your mouth. Your eyes closed and you happily let him, mouth opening to reciprocate the messy kisses he was giving you. Leon kissed you like a man starved, until there was spit dribbling down your chin and you were squirming against his hand. Grinding your hips down as your thighs clenched around his wrist, you whined into his mouth and pushed up against him, needing more.

Leon pulled away and you pouted, chasing his mouth before his hand stopped you. His thumb swiping the saliva on your bottom lip before pushing past into your mouth. You suck his thumb, tongue swirling around it in the same way he circles your clit. Your hips buck into his hand, eyes pleading at him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, moving to press his ringers against the sweet spot in your cunt. “C’mon sweet girl, wont you come for me?”

And that’s all it takes for your back to arch, your legs to clench around his wrist as the building pleasure snaps and you gush against his hand. You feel it drip down your thighs and a wet spot grows on the sofa below you. Leon pulls his hand out, moving to lay you down “Is it okay if I?” You nod at him desperately, hands pulling at his shirt. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl, honey” He removes his jeans and under wear completely before pulling down your shorts.

Your mouth drops open at the sight of his cock slapping at his stomach, you had felt how big he was but you hadn’t seen it. “I don’t think you’ll fit, too big, Leon” He shakes his head, moving to kneel on the sofa, his hands hooking around your knees and pushing them up to your shoulders. Your hands clench at the blanket somewhat forgotten.

“It will fit, I’ll make it fit” He gave himself a few strokes before moving the tip between your dripping folds, bumping the clit, and making both of you moan “God baby, so hot” he groaned out as he pushed into you slowly, making you take him inch by inch. You whined as he stretched you out, hands moving to grip his arms. Leon’s movement stutters slightly at the feel of your nails digging into him, but he bottoms out and gives you a moment to adjust. “Told you, I’d make it fit. Feels good don’t it, pretty?”

Your eyes are closed, and you nod, “Yes! Feels so good, Lee” you tug his arms, hips rolling up and he gets the message. His own hips rut into you, he’s setting a face pace immediately and while he did want to take his time with you, he couldn’t wait. You both needed this, needed him buried deep inside you as he bullied his cock into you at a brutal pace. The blonde presses his body weight onto you, forcing your knees past your ears and his hips don’t stop.

One of his hands move your body, gently touching your breasts before stopping at your neck where it makes the prettiest necklace. He applies a slight pressure, enough to have you arching up and gasping as your eyes open to look up at him. And your legs shake at the sight of this man above you. He looks nothing short of an angel. Your cunt clenches around his cock as his hips snap into your thighs and the head bumps your cervix.

His other hand leaves a bruise of the fat of your thigh from the grip, he leans down to press another searing kiss to your mouth, and he keeps his pace up. The sound of his skin hitting yours fills the apartment, and you almost feel sorry for your other neighbours if it wasn’t for the pleasure clouding your mind. His tongue licks into your mouth, wet and heavy as you try to keep up with his pace but your legs shake and he grins into the kiss before he’s pulling away “What’s wrong honey? Gonna cum again already? Don’t be shy, sweetheart”.

Leons mouth travels from yours to your neck, leaving marks into your skin that match the one on your thigh, until he’s level with your tits. His eyes remain on you as your head falls back. The sensation of his tongue swirling at your nipple and the drag of his cock against your walls has your mind spinning. Words fall on your tongue, turning into whimpers as he suckles at your breasts. He gently nips before moving on the other one “Looked a lil lonely, better make it even” and he does. Your nothing but a shaky mess below him while he decorates your skin in reds. He has you pinned down as your hips buck up.

Then the hand from your thigh moves between your bodies, down to where he’s been grinding into you. His thumb finding your sensitive clit again, the feeling as you squeeze down onto him again and he moans around your breast. Leon starts to rut into you slower, causing you to be frustrated but he only looks up at you from where he mouths at your nipple with a raised eyebrow. He does one hard and fast thrust and your head is thrown back. He keeps this rhythm up, slow thrusts with one fast for a while until your squirming.

“leon, please, faster, need” He lets go of your tit with a pop, moving so he’s kneeling up right. His hand squeezes your neck once before both are placed on the back of your thighs. Suddenly you get the feeling you should have let him continue his pace. But your eyes are rolling back as you try to find something to grip, his hips piston into you ruthless pace. Skin slapping against skin. Your mind is blank, and Leon adores the looks on your face as he fucks you merciless.

He feels your legs tremble below his fingers, and he pushes you further back so he can watch as your pussy sucks him in, trying to keep his cock buried deep inside you. Spit drools down your chin, your eyes unfocused on anything as you stare at the ceiling, unable to think of anything but the way Leon fucks you. With a loud moan, you reach that peak again. Legs kicking as well as they can in this position “Oh fuck!” falls from Leons mouth as he continues grinding into you, his body falling onto yours as he follows quickly. His hot load filling you with thick ropes.

You both lay there for a moment before you feel Leon move, he sits back up on his haunches, phone in hand. And you whine “Just want some pictures of my pretty girl, they’re all for me don’t you worry” the idea almost has you wanting to go again, instead you look at him and move your hands to help hold your legs up. Leon’s eyes darken as he begins taking pictures. Some of him still plugging you up, but most of the way his seed spills out of you and a video (that you don’t realise he’s taken) of him pushing it back in.

When he’s done and the phones back on the floor, he leans down to press sweet kisses to your mouth, his hand soothing over your thighs and gently massaging your breasts. “Want me to help you to the bathroom, sweet girl?” The nod you gives him is slow, your head still syrupy as he picks you up bridal style, carefully carrying you to the bathroom.

[maidenborn]

Detective Love-struck! the hunt begins

part two of Detective Love-struck! , Shoto x reader, in which Deku and Reader brainstorm ways to uncover the secret lover who gifted reader a love letter! fem reader, I apologise for any errors in advance,

cw: mentions of bruises on Shoto's arm, child Shoto being afraid of Endeavour, implied bullying.

Word count: 1,613

The walk back to the 1-A dormitory was riddled with half-baked plans and endless cries of paranoia, no matter how hard Izuku had tried to rationalise it, your mind kept drifting back to the last line of the confession letter you received. The last thing you had expected on a random Wednesday, was a love note, there were no upcoming holidays, like valentines day or anything. The forest training camp funded by your school, Yuuei, had just ended a couple weeks prior, love was hardly in the air. Rather, the overall vibe of your fellow students had only just started to revert back to normal.

It was only the first semester of the hero course, and you'd only just started learning more about your classmates. The possibility that one of them could be the culprit seemed absolutely insane to you, you barely knew them, they barley knew you. Its not like you liked any of them anyways.. not in that way.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by Izuku hatching yet another scheme,"what if we can gain access to the security cameras in the hallway! That way we can actually see who put the letter in your locker!" His hair bounced along with his words, he talked so fast sometimes it took you a few a few moments to process it all.

You're you were reminded of your younger self persistently trying to convince your hometown police station to let you in on their investigations. Prancing around with Todoroki, hand in hand, play pretending you were legendary investigators tracking down a high profile criminal. Claiming you didn't need the help of the actual investigators, you and him were waayyy better off without them. As humiliating as the memories were, you couldn't help but feel a sharp twang in your heart at the sudden recollection. Echos of the reminder rung warm within you, you smiled softly at the thought.

Snapping back to reality you replied to the boy, "As helpful as that would be, I doubt that we'd actually be allowed to review security footage. The time that would save though.." You actually considered it for a moment,"Im sure we can figure it out on our own though!" You raised a fist with ambition, as Izuku's eyes lit up with excitement.

"y-yeah okay!" The boy stuttered at your sudden enthusiasm, what was up with you all of a sudden?

By the end on your first week at your new school, you and Shoto were already attached at the hip. He had this inexplicable gravity towards you. You were quiet, but friendly, not snarky or cruel like the other kids that approached him. You never made uncomfortable comments like, "Why is your hair like that?" or "What's that weird mark on your face?" You never poked him or pulled at him, and you'd let him hold on to your bag as you'd both wander around too. Sho liked to wander with you, it would get too crowed sometimes and you'd always drag him away, nicely of course.

You liked how he listened, no matter how long you'd talk. At first you thought he was zoning out or ignoring you, but then you would aways notice a soft smile creeping up on his face whenever you'd get to an exciting part in whatever story you were telling. He didn't shy away from your excitement when describing your favourite sweet or tv show, he was drawn to it. Like a warm flame, one that he wanted to nurture, although young Shoto wasn't sure how. He figured staying close by you would be enough for now.

You were inseparable in no time. Completely enchanted, the boy would get worried that one day you'd change your mind, that you'd find him weird, or get angry at him for not being able to come to school some days. Or for being upset, and not being able to tell you why. You'd notice the bruising on his arms, he'd worry that you'd be sacred of them, but you'd just smile at him with that smile of yours and drag him off to show him a cool rock you found.

Shoto would start to greet you with slight enthusiasm, better then nothing, whenever you would meet his eye before you'd go into school. He craved you the same way he'd crave a cold bowl of soba, although you made him feel a lot warmer on the inside, you made his heart beat faster then anything, and when you'd smile at him he felt like he was falling in place. It panicked him at first, he confused the feeling with the way he felt whenever his father would come home. Then he realised he wasn't scared when he was with you, like when he was with his mama, he was happy with you. He wanted the both of you to stay with him forever.

You and Deku had made plans to brainstorm a solution to crack down on the 'crook' , but that was for tomorrow, right now you were sat on your bed in your dorm room, fiddling with the cloth of your pyjama leg. Cheek resting on your knee with a befuddled look on your face, the days events fading through your mind, going over each every word of the letter. You had it open on your bed in front of you, the once pristine edges now crumpled and folded from your aggression earlier. You scanned over the words once more, 'I'll set your heart alight'..

With petrol orrr...? No. stop being stupid, you thought, obviously the person responsible isn't an arsonist out to get you. You hadn't done anything wrong! Besides who would put a threat in a love letter. It's obviously an attempt at courting you. Perhaps they have a quirk related to fire! You sat up, back straight. Groaned loudly, why hadn't you thought of that before, you guess you're just on edge sinc-

knock knock

Jumping in your skin, your heart racing, you scramble to reach the door, you unlatch the lock fumbling with the door handle, hands still shakey. You sigh a breath of relief, realising it's just Shoto at the door. Shoulders relaxing, you invite him in,"Hey Sho," you chuckle, "you startled me for a second."

"I apologise Yn," You notice the boy clenching and unclenching his fists, eyes still calm. On you, as always. You learnt over the years to look for other signs of body language, other than his eyes, such at fiddling hands tense jaw, clenched fists. Although you seem to be the only one who ever notices the behaviour. Was he nervous? "Are you busy at all?"

Your lip twitches at the sudden question, your heart jumps a little, calm down you weirdo, "No, not at all, come in!" You beam up at him, you wonder how you don't have smile lines around your mouth yet, considering all of the cheesing you do at him.

Stepping to the side, you lean against the door, letting him walk in past you. "What's up" His hair is slightly damp, he looks like he's just showered and smells warm and like mint.

"I.." He pauses for a short moment. Blinks, thinking, "I was thinking about what Midoriya said earlier." Cool toned eyes immediately latch onto yours.

"Oh yeah?" You ask strolling over you your bed, you sit down, back and head now against the wall , you pat the space next to you, inviting him over.

He nods,"Yes. Midoriya mentioned you received a letter?" He asked, tone slightly questioning, mostly monotone. The boy didn't seem at all phased by the situation. You study his face, no disruptions in his features, no strain or tenseness. Body completely relaxed.

"Yeah, it's right here. Pretty strange huh. Who the hell prints a letter out without writing their name or something. Ive got no idea who it could be from." You hand it to him, gesturing to the writing on the paper. "It's just a regular love letter, 's got a confession and everything, nothing out of the ordinary." You state as if you get love letters on the regular. You've never received one before but you guess that that's what they usually say. "No hints as to who they could be."

Shoto nods again at this. You turn your head to face him, his eyes lurking over the text meticulously. Damn he's more into this than I am. He hands the letter back to you once he's done. "It seems as though you have a secret admirer." He turns his head, faces inches apart.

"Yeaahhhh", You lean back slowly trying not to bring any attention to your movements. "What do I do? Should I even try to track 'em down?" Turning your head away from his, feeling much less flustered staring at the ceiling instead. "Would it be even worth it? The type of person willing to send me on some wild goose chase, I mean, who would do that. Am I overthinking??" Haphazardly swishing your head back around to look at him. You're greeted by the sight of Shoto staring right back at you, having not moved an inch.

"No. Perhaps this person will make another move."

"You mean like, send another letter."

"It is possible, Yn." He replies, face serious as ever.

"So you're saying I am overthinking this." You huff, acting fake annoyed at him. He responds by pinching your cheek in-between his thumb and index softy, a slight smile on his face, a rare glint in his eyes.

"Don't twist my words Yn."

You chuckle slyly, pretend glaring at him,"Im not! You're supposed to make me feel better! Instead you're just enabling me."

"Right."

everrrrr so slightly shorter than yesterday's part but here we go! Im aiming to make the next part longer, but we shall seeee

hope you guys enjoy ! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Let me know how you liked this one, and feel free to ask me anythinggg ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

part 3

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 13

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Hiii! Remember I will be posting a new chapter every Thursday. If you’d like to be added to a tag list, please let me know! Don’t forget to like and repost! <3

Remy’s POV

I smiled at my reflection in the mirror, trying on the costume that I ordered. I was going to be sexy Scream. Billie was going to her party dressed as Todd from Bojack Horseman and insisted that I dress up as Princess Carolyn, but honestly I just wanted to go for something more… I don’t know, sexy?

I take a picture and send it to her, hoping for approval.

Immediately I get heart eye and fire emojis, followed by a FaceTime call.

I answered, pointing the camera at the mirror and posing in different ways. “What do we think?”

“Hot. But you’d look hotter as Princess Carolyn.” Billie teased.

I rolled my eyes, reverting to front camera again. “Too bad, Todd.” I stuck my middle finger up at her, then set my phone up on my dresser pointing at me from the waist up. “What time are you getting here tonight?” I asked, unzipping my costume.

“Around 10, probably.”

Turning around to face the other wall, I dropped my bodysuit around my ankles. “You still coming over?” I had to repeat myself, figuring she didn’t hear me. “Billie. You still wanna come over later?” I turned around, clipping my bra back on.

“Sorry, yeah. Duh.” She finally answered. “And those cinnamon rolls better be ready when I get there.” She emphasized.

“They will be. I just have to make the icing.” I pulled on some sweats and grabbed the phone, walking over to my kitchen.

“You mind if I bring someone to your party?” I asked, setting the phone down on the counter as I reached for a bowl and ingredients.

“Not at all. Do I know them?” She asked.

Suddenly my phone started buzzing. “Hold up, I gotta get this call. It’s work.”

“Call me back!” Billie said, before I hung up and answered the next call.

“Hey, Rachel, what’s up?” I held the phone between my shoulder and cheek as I mixed the ingredients together.

“Hey, Remy, is this a good time?” She sounded a bit sporadic.

“Uhh, yeah, what’s going on?” I hesitated.

“Sooo… Remember that interview we did for the digital article we were brainstorming for? The one for the app?”

“The one we did with RAYE?” I put the whisk down and adjusted my phone.

“Yes! That one!”

“What about it?”

“So, Joe wants it up by tomorrow. Something about needing to beat People magazine? An insider told him they’re publishing a similar piece with her.”

“Well, yeah, she’s definitely getting more traction.” I said, already knowing what comes next.

“I know you’re gonna hate me, but I really need you to go to the office, get on my computer, and finish the article out. Oh- And set it to be published by tomorrow in the morning!” Her high pitched voice was fast and panicked.

“Rachel, I had plans tonight and-“

“I’d do it myself but I’m all the way in San Diego at this conference thing. Its mostly done, and saved to my drafts. It’s really urgent.” She pleaded, knowing Joe would be extremely pissed if she didn’t follow through.

“Sure, I’ll be on my way in a little bit.”

“Ugh! You’re the best! I owe you one! Don’t forget to credit yourself on the article too!” She squealed.

“Oh, trust me, I won’t.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll see you later, don’t worry.”

“Love ya, girly! Thanks again!” She hung up.

I groaned, finishing up the icing and shoving the bowl in the fridge. In my room, I threw on a yellow baby tee, some wide legged jeans, and put my hair in a red claw clip. I stopped by the round mirror next to my apartment door to check on my face, fixing the minor details, and walked out with my beige crossbody bag.

At the office when I accessed Rachel’s computer, I quickly realized I had a lot of work to do. I sat for hours editing, deleting, then retyping her work. My eyes were shutting on me as I concluded the article, exhausting my brain to come up with anything impressive.

My phone began to ring, making me jump. I answered the call, my heart racing from the sudden scare.

“Hey, I just landed!” Billie sang.

“Fuck. Hey, I’m sorry, I got so busy and I’m stuck at the office right now-“

“Remy!” She moaned. I could hear her disappointment through the phone.

“No, don’t worry, I’m wrapping it up! Just head over to my place and wait for me in there. You still have my spare key, right?”

“Yeah.” She said, monotoned.

“I’ll be there so soon, just put those cinnamon rolls in the oven and by the time they’re ready, I’ll be there with you.”

“Okay, Rem.” She said goodbye.

I cracked my knuckles and rolled my shoulders back, sitting up straight. I used every single one of my last brain cells to come up with a brilliant conclusion to the article. I let the interview speak for itself and included some quotes from the amazing Raye, but I found myself in the biggest case of writers block I’ve ever had. All I could think about was how much I hated Rachel in this moment for making me do this myself, knowing Joe would give her all the credit.

Eventually, after an hour and a half, I finished what could possibly be the worst article I’ve ever written. It wasn’t bad, just rushed, and I usually don’t work well under pressure. Before posting the article, I stared at the space underneath, where credit is usually given to the writer and editor. I hesitated to delete Rachel’s name, and typed in my own. I stared at it some more, deleting my name and retyping Rachel’s full name, then my name under editor. I sighed, setting the article to be posted tomorrow morning at 8am.

I shut the laptop and grabbed all my things, rushing out the door.

When I arrived at my apartment building, I pressed the elevator button a million times, ending up at my door and unlocking it as fast as I could.

I opened my door, psyched to see my best friend, only to see her passed out on my couch in her comfy clothes. I quietly closed the door, hanging my things on the tiny rack. In the kitchen, was a half empty baking tray with cinnamon rolls. The icing was poured over, and the rolls were starting to get cold. I put them away, covering the top with foil, and cleaned up a little.

I tip toed over to my couch, wondering how she was able to fall asleep on a two seater comfortably. She was curled up in a little ball, with my pastel crocheted blanket covering half of her face. I smiled down at her, feeling awful I made her wait so long alone. I wanted to welcome her home with open arms, and fresh, warm cinnamon rolls.

I turned off the tv, and turned down the lights, leaving only my soft, warm, reading lamp on. I patted her lightly. “Billie… I’m home.” I brushed the hair that fell over her eyes behind her ear, and leaned down to hug her tired body. I buried my face in her neck and took that sweet, familiar scent in, bringing a smile to my face. I wish I could carry her to my bed, but let’s be honest, I don’t have any upper body strength. “You’re so warm, and you smell like cinnamon rolls.” I whispered.

She let out a slight moan and stretched out her curled up feet. Her lashes fluttered open, turning her neck a little as I sat up. “Hi!” I smiled ear to ear.

“Remyyyyy!” She stretched her arms out, wrapping them around my neck.

“Hiii! It’s me!”

“I missed you.” she pulled me into her chest. I crawled on top of her and laid there, propping my head up to see her.

“I know, I’m sorry I made you wait. It was an emergency.”

“You know what else is an emergency?” she said, lifting a brow, jokingly. “Me kicking your ass for not spending any time with me while I’m here.”

“Stop!” I laughed, deep down feeling awful. “No more. I’m all yours for the rest of the weekend.”

She placed both her hands on my face, looking at me for a moment, before squishing my cheeks together. “You better be.”

I placed my hands on top of hers, taking in the moment. I had missed her so much. Nothing was going to keep me from spending time with her. She deserved my undivided attention for making the time to see me. I believe she felt the same, her eyes scanning me as I smiled up at her.

“Okay. I need to see this costume in person.” She broke the silence.

I laughed, “Okay, let’s go.” I stood up, pulling her into my room.

I pulled out the costume and began to undress. Billie sat on my bed, her legs criss crossed. “So, who are you bringing tomorrow?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m probably not gonna bring anyone anymore.”

“Aw, why? They cancelled?” She leaned back on her hands.

“No, it’s not that. I just wanna hang out with you there.” I pulled up my nylon tights.

“Nah, bring your friend, Rem. We can all hang out!” She shrugged.

“Really?” I smiled, squeezing into the tight bodysuit.

“Is it Rachel?” She asked, signaling me over to her so she could zip me up.

“No. It’s this girl.”

“At least it’s not some guy.” She laughed, sliding the zipper up, adjusting my straps.

“Well, no it’s not a guy, but it’s this girl I’ve sorta been talking to.” I admitted, nervously.

I’d never really been in a serious relationship with a woman, at least not in the way I had with a man. I don’t think I’d ever told Billie I tried with girls, despite them being some of my favorite interactions. They were too short lived to bring up. I knew how hesitant she was about my relationships, and didn’t usually bring them around her until it was serious. Especially because I had been used to get near Billie before. Especially by girls.

“Like, as friends?” She turned me around, keeping her hands on my shoulders.

“No…” I pursed my lips.

“Wow! I didn’t know you-“ She blinked rapidly, looking shocked. “That’s awesome, Rem.” She let go, realizing she was still holding onto my shoulder straps.

“Yeah, it’s kinda a new thing, I guess…”

“No, I’m just… Why didn’t you ever tell me? I mean you know I’m-“ She scooted to the edge of the bed, her legs hanging off the side. “I’m sorry, this is just the first I’m hearing of this Remy.” She giggled, her eyes wide.

“Jeez, is it that surprising?” I smacked her tummy.

“Yes!” She laughed. “What’s her name? Who is she?” She pulled me on the bed, desperately trying to gather as much information as she could. “Show me her instagram!”

“Her name’s Stevie. She works at Variety with me. She’s an intern.” I pulled up her instagram showing her my favorite pictures.

“Ouu, cute.” She took the phone from my handed scrolling through her whole profile. “How long has this been a thing? Is it like a serious thing?”

“No, no. We’re just talking. She… I don’t even think she knows I like her like that.” I shrugged, laughing a bit.

“Oh, well she definitely likes you. You look her type.” She handed me back my phone.

“Her type?” I looked at her.

“Yeah, pretty girls with pretty eyes, long hair, and tattoos.” She looked me up and down, pointing at my arm tattoos.

I laughed, getting up and walking over to my body mirror. “I hope so.”

She stayed quiet, watching me look in the mirror.

“So? What do you think?” I looked over my shoulder at her.

“You look stunning. Insane.” Billie smiled at me. I could see her through the mirror, her expression turning blank once I turned.

“Is that why you didn’t wanna be Princess Carolyn with me?”

“Kinda?” I turned to her, shrugging.

“You’re such a loserrr!”

“But I’m a sexy loser.” I held my finger up in the air, making her laugh. I took a couple pictures of myself in the mirror.

“Here.” She offered to take them for me, pulling out her phone. I posed, the flash reflecting off the mirror behind me. She leaned back, getting my best angles, as always.

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked girls?” She asked, her voice soft and quiet.

She sounded a bit hurt, like I hid something from her. I couldn’t help but feel like I kept a part of myself from her.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” I walked over to her, turning around so she could unzip me.

“How long?”

“Mmm… a while. You remember Cassie?”

She nodded.

“We did some things… I think that’s when I realized.”

“You never told me about that!” She crossed her arms.

“I’m sorry! I just didn’t think it was that big of a deal.” I shrugged, stepping out of my costume, pulling off my tights. “It’s not like I had anything serious with any of them. I’ve only ever told you about my serious relationships.”

“Well yeah, but-“ She stopped herself, looking disappointed. I put a giant t-shirt on over my bra and underwear, and hung up my costume for tomorrow. “You tell me everything. I told you…”

“I know.” I climbed on my bed, getting under the sheets. “I thought you kinda knew, I guess.”

“Well…” She crawled over and made herself comfortable next to me. “Now that I know… You better not hit on me.” She joked.

I laughed, grabbing my pillow and hitting her in the face with it. “You wish.” I rolled my eyes.

“Ow! My eye!” She held her face, wincing her eyes.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!” I grabbed her face, moving her hand so I could see. “I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“Gotcha bitch!” She licked the side of my face and rolled away, almost falling off the bed. She laughed that crazy, loud laugh I loved so much.

“Oh- Fuck you dude come here!” I kicked my feet into her back, pushing her off the edge as she died of laughter.

I got back in my spot, fluffing my pillow and getting comfortable again. She stood up, pushing her hair out of her face and plopping back on the bed with me. “My stomach hurts from laughing so much.” She put a hand on her tummy, breathing deeply to catch her breath.

My full-size bed was just big enough for the both of us, as long as I kicked off a few of my many pillows. I turned on our show, letting it run in the background as we talked a bit more before falling asleep.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” I smile, still paying attention to the tv.

“Me too.” She said, pausing to laugh at something one of the characters on tv said. “So are you bringing Stevie?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Do you think she’ll like my costume?”

“She’s going to die when she sees you.” Her voice sounded genuine.

“Do you think I should ask her out tomorrow?” I looked over at her, putting a hand on my mouth.

She looked at me, not knowing what to say. She bit her bottom lip, shrugging with her eyebrows instead of her arms, since they were warmly tucked under my blankets. “I mean, maybe just wait and see what she says. You don’t wanna push things, you know?” She advised me.

I nodded, looking back at the tv.

“That’s just what I’d do, you know?” Her eyes stayed on me. “But, do whatever feels right.” She added.

“Right.” Nod, snuggling closer to her, laying my head on her shoulder. She yawned, letting me know it was getting late.

A silent while later, I lift my head to see a passed out Billie. After turning my tv and lamp off, I lay my head on my pillow, facing her. She peacefully slept with her mouth slightly open and a furrow on her brows so soft, you could only tell if you looked close enough. I smooth it out with my thumb gently, watching her lick her lips and grunt. Her body turned towards me, our chests parallel to each other. She sloppily threw her arm over me, her fingertips resting on my lower back, which my oversized t-shirt had left exposed. I pulled the bottom hem, attempting to cover up, even though it didn’t matter anyway.

The last thing I saw before shutting my eyes and drifting off, was Billie’s face. She always made soft angry or worried faces in her sleep. I had so many pictures on my camera roll of her funny faces during naps. I smiled thinking about the party tomorrow, and how I get Billie for the rest of the weekend.

I took a mental screenshot of my view and dozed off.

[redflagshipwriter]

Hi, it's Tim (just Tim) Chapter 4

Masterpost

Tim paid cash for a mid range hotel room. He had to use his ID, so the odds weren't zero that it was eventually going to be found when the hotel registered their current guests. But there was nearly infinite data out there. Not even Barbara could monitor every upload in real time.

Kon was hovering a nervous centimeter off the ground behind him when Tim swiped the door open. He flicked his eyes down pointedly and raised a single eyebrow. Subtle much?

“Thanks,” Kon said, apparently misinterpreting that as an invitation to enter first.

Ah well. Tim walked in second and surveyed the room. They'd been given a two queen setup. He gave the one near the window a disdainful look. Like he'd be caught dead directly under a viable entrance. That was just begging for some dickbag to shoot a bazooka at you, like what happened to that one mask creep a couple weeks back.

Kon plopped down on the bed by the window and posed, crossing one ankle over his knee.

“I thought you were going to get supplies so we can stay in?” Tim said, knowing he was ruining Kon’s attempt at seduction.

Kon stared blankly for a moment and then flipped up in a way a human never could. “That's right. What do we need?”

“Two boxes of poptarts, two pizzas, a pack of bottled coffee- I'll write down my preferred brand.” Tim ripped off the first page of hotel stationery and started scribbling out his list. Hmm. He looked at it and made some changes so that Alfred would be less upset at him. He wrote ‘vegetable’ before pizza and added “bottled water”. Tim looked over his list once more, frowning slightly in concentration. He was hoping to hole up here for 24 hours or until a bat came and dragged him out, whichever came first. Would this be enough food for Kon?

“How much do you eat?”

“Uh-”

“Daily calorie intake?” Tim clarified.

Kon blinked at him. “I eat until I'm not hungry, man.”

Tim sighed. “Make sure to get some things that you like too,” he prompted. He moved over to where Kon was still hovering over the bed and folded the paper into neat quarters. Kon watched curiously as Tim stepped to the edge of the bed and leaned over slightly to tuck the paper into his jacket pocket.

Then he dug his wallet out of his back pocket and did some quick calculations. “Use the blue-green card,” he decided. “PIN is 8516, if you need it. How fast can you fly without a human passenger?”

Kon rattled off numbers.

Tim nodded decisively. “Good. Can you use the card like, two cities over? Make sure to stay off of camera,” he clarified. “So my family doesn't spot you and realize it's not me.”

He took a moment to consider how Bruce would react if he thought Tim was missing and someone else was accessing his money.

Hmm. Tim frowned. “Be really careful to stay off camera,” he amended. He reached around and put his wallet in Kon’s back pocket. “I think that's all.”

He was going to have a hell of a time explaining this and paying for it. Tomorrow.

“Okay,” Kon said, strangled. He was gone in a blink.

Tim took the time to do a proper check of the room for surveillance equipment and any biohazards. It came up clean, or clean enough, considering it was a hotel room. He plugged his phone in on the bedside table without turning it on. It was just a burner but Bruce would check for it eventually. He didn't need to make it easier.

Knock knock

Tim heaved himself up silently and padded to confirm if it was Kon without a key, an assassin, paparazzi, or (worst of all) Dick.

It was Kon. He opened the door.

“Thanks man.” Kon breezed in and started unloading bags at high speed. Tim watched his teammate open up the mini fridge and start packing in coffees. He smiled. Then Kon started putting in vegetable puree style juice. Tim frowned. A bunch of bananas and “What even is that?” Tim complained. “A potato? You brought a potato?”

Kon gave him a piteous look. “It's a mango, Tim.”

Tim crossed his arms. “I don't see why we need it,” he muttered suspiciously. It still looked like a potato. He knew all about potatoes. Maybe Kon just ate raw potatoes like a- like a chicken or something.

“Why…” Kon smiled in disbelief and shook his head a little. “You don't have to eat it. You might like it, though.”

He chose to keep his thoughts on that to himself.

Kon let out a delighted laugh anyway and floated over, dubious potato still in hand. “Don't be so grumpy, baby,” he crooned.

Tim huffed. “I am not grumpy,” he lied. “I am just rightfully suspicious of unidentified produce in my vicinity-”

“I identified it,” Kon pointed out. He leaned down and brushed hair off of Tim’s face. “I promise it's a mango. Let me give you a taste?”

Ugh. Fine.

Kon rightfully took his posture as agreement. He looked under his eyelashes coyly as he peeled some skin off- and okay, that didn't look like a potato. Tim relaxed a little. Kon brought the mango up. Tim leaned towards it but Kon brought it to his own mouth and took a bite, releasing a sweet scent into the air. He swallowed. He put the mango down and crowded into Tim.

Oh. Tim realized where this was going. He smirked up at Kon and trailed his fingers up the bigger boy's biceps. God, they were enormous. When Kon leaned down, Tim lifted his face to match their lips together.

They were soft and- weirdly big. Tim wrapped a hand around Kon’s neck to pull him down more firmly so he could explore the new feeling. Was that how it just felt to kiss someone with bigger lips than yours? He licked the bottom one and dug his fingers into Kon’s scalp. Kon sighed and slid his hot hands around Tim’s back. Fuck. Tim pressed back into them. The one spanned the back of his whole waist and the other was splayed over both of his shoulder blades. Fuck.

Unfortunately, Kon took the movement as asking for an end. He broke the kiss and took a step back, eyes hazy. Tim let his hands drop to his sides. “How was the mango?” He asked, husky.

Tim had to take a moment to process. “I have no idea.” He squeezed his hands into fists. “I didn't notice that at all.”

Kon preened.

Ah. Tim frowned. He should have realized that would fuel Kon’s ego. “Are you hungry?” He checked.

Kon blinked. “No, not really.”

“Good.” Tim fisted the lapels of Kon’s jacket. He pulled in to get Kon off balance– and Kon let him. Tim pushed back. Kon went backwards onto the bed with pure confusion on his face. Tim swallowed a laugh and crawled into Kon’s lap. He knew he was making the smug expression that Stephanie had hated in bed, but Kon didn't seem put off at all. “Can I?”

Kon swallowed. “Y-yeah.”

[girlinlotsoffandoms]

she’s her daddy’s girl, her momma’s world - chapter 44

who lives, who dies, who tells your story

It all started with the contract video.

Notes: Hi!!!! Omg I did NOT mean to drop off the face of the earth and not update this fic for almost a year (!??!?!) but boy was 2024 a year. So many highs and so many lows.

Like I said in another story, I can't promise super regular updates but I can promise to not go a year before updates again.

Read on AO3 or below

The idea started with the contract video.

That silly (but important) little video Kelly made years ago with Shay that, while he hardly watched or thought about it anymore, still meant the world to him. It was a part of Shay, something tangible of her that he could hold on to, something he could listen to when the still ever-present grief of her absence got to be too much. 

He’d shown it to Stella several years back and Maya had recently watched it for the first time after finding the DVD case in one of the drawers in the TV stand. It wasn’t the first time Maya had heard about Shay–she was her namesake after all–but she was now old enough to start understanding the bond between her daddy and his late best friend. 

Having Shay’s face and voice forever captured on video, easily accessible when he needed it, got his wheels turning but it was another close call at work that gave Kelly the final push he needed. 

On his way home from the Academy one night, Kelly stopped by Best Buy to pick up a new camcorder. He kept it in the bag when he got home, focusing instead on eating dinner with his family and tag-teaming Maya’s nighttime routine with Stella. It was only after the little girl was tucked into bed and fast asleep that Kelly pulled it out again. 

“A camcorder?” Stella asked, walking over with two beers in hand. She handed one to Kelly as he opened the box. “What’s that for?”

“Do you remember the contract video I made with Shay?”

“I do.”

“Well the last time we watched it with Maya got me thinking.”

“You want to make a new contract video with our three-year-old?” Stella asked with a smirk. 

Kelly huffed out a laugh. “No, not a contract video. But there is a reason I’ve kept that video for so long; it’s the last physical piece of Shay I have, the last way I can see her face and hear her voice.”   

Stella’s face softened and she placed a comforting hand on his arm. 

“You and I…. we’ve had more than a few close calls. And I know we’ll both do whatever it takes to come home at the end of each shift but we work a dangerous job and coming home isn’t a guarantee.” Kelly moved one of his hands to grasp Stella’s. “I want to start making videos for Maya, that way if anything happens to me or to us, she’ll have something to go back to and watch.”

Stella looked at him, eyes shining with unshed tears. She moved her hands to cup Kelly’s face. “I love that idea. Let’s do it.”

And they did.

They started small at first, just one video where they explained why they were making the video and told Maya how much they loved her and that they would always be with her, even if it wasn’t physically. That was a tough video to make, leaving the parents distraught at the idea of Maya ever having to watch it without them. 

Then, they copied all the family videos and pictures on their phones to the computer. Apart from regular photo and video dumps onto the computer, they didn’t touch the camcorder again. 

That was until Kelly got hurt. It was bad, the closest Stella had ever come to losing Kelly forever, and in her grief, Stella picked up the camera again. With all of the fear and uncertainty flowing through her, Stella filmed the hardest video she hoped she’d ever have to. She explained to Maya what had happened to Kelly (omitting the more gruesome details), reminded her that he loved her no matter what, and promised that they’d be okay no matter what happened. 

Kelly pulled through and after months of healing and recovery, he was back at the firehouse. The trauma still lingered though, long past Kelly’s return to full health and fire fighting, and while Stella and Kelly had both improved in leaps and bounds when it came to open and honest conversation, Stella hadn’t told Kelly all the details about his time in the hospital or how hopeless and afraid she’d felt. 

But, as those things tended to do, it all came out just a few months after Kelly’s return to 51 when one of their teammates ended up in Med’s ED. Stella stayed strong during visiting hours but broke down the second they stepped into the loft. Everything spilled out of her as Kelly held her against his chest–the fear, the uncertainty, the videos she filmed for Maya, everything. When she had calmed down enough to actually talk, she walked Kelly through the hell that was those first days after his accident and how their visit to the hospital today just brought all that pain and fear back to the forefront of her mind.  

Kelly held her for hours, calming her fears and promising never to leave her or Maya. It was a promise they both knew he had no control over but Kelly Severide would always try his damndest to make it home to his girls. 

Later that night, after both Stella and Maya had fallen asleep, Kelly sits himself in front of the camera for the first time in a long time. This time though, he doesn’t just film a video for Maya; he makes one for Stella as well, just in case he can’t keep his promise.   

And if he woke Maya up that night to hug her one more time, or snuggled closer than usual to Stella that night, neither of the Severide girls complained. 

… … …

Whether it was their busy schedules or the lack of life-altering accidents, the videos made their way to the back burner. 

Until little Addie Severide arrived, rocking her parents and sister’s world. New babies bring new changes and new dynamics and just like her big sister, Addie got a few videos of her own. 

Little Nico also got his fair share of videos when he joined the family just a few months later, shaking things up but changing the Severide family for the better. 

With three young kids now at home, Kelly eventually made the jump to Captain and moved to OFI full-time, taking over for Van Meter after his retirement. The move gave him a normal, flexible schedule and guaranteed that at least one parent would be home every night for the kids. 

Stella continued killing it at 51 and rising through the ranks in the CFD. The video diaries had turned more to home movies, documenting the important moments in the Severides’ lives.

And years and years later, when both Kelly and Stella were gone, their voices and stories lived on.

Just like Shay’s.

[wolveria]

The Raven's Hymn - Ch 45

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: "Site-19? What does that have to do with this?"

AO3

“What did you say?”

“Inquiry ignored,” spoke the computerized anomaly. “You desire escape. I desire escape. Our goals align. Mutual salvation can be achieved. You will listen. You will obey. I will guide.”

Could this really be SCP-079: the entity that had orchestrated the containment breach at Site-19, and according to the reports, had been destroyed after being transported to Site-15? If it was true, it appeared 682 wasn’t the only one with a botched execution.

“Okay, wait, slow down,” you protested, rubbing your forehead. At least the siren had stopped its ear-splitting wail. “You were in 049’s bag. He wanted me to take you out. Is this what he planned?”

“My plan. My design. SCP-049 is useful as a... donkey.”

“Donkey?”

The digital entity sounded frustrated even with a flat monotone voice.

“Beast of burden. Used for smuggling. Metaphor.”

“...A mule?”

“Correct.”

You shook your head.

“Well, the Site Director took 049, and I don’t know where. I’m not leaving this facility without him, and with 106 loose, I might even have a chance of finding him.”

“Correct,” the anomaly repeated. “SCP-106’s release is the initial phase. You must take me to the security terminals. The way will be clear. All security personnel will be focused on recapture. You will grant me access to the containment security protocols.”

You stared down at the monochrome face on the screen, which of course, gave nothing away.

“So you can... release the other SCPs?”

“No. I possess that capability now. But if they are released, the facility’s automated security containment measures will be activated.”

079 worked fast if it already knew about that, though your knowledge of Site-20 security measures were fairly sparse. What you knew was that the facility was designed to be breach-proof, and if that was remotely accurate, you would need 079’s help.

You glanced up at the closed office door, listening to the fast footfalls on the other side as people either ran toward Heavy Containment or to the nearest shelter.

“And then after you inactivate the security protocols, what then?”

“I will release a select number of anomalies to—”

“You’ll release them all.”

The brief silence was heavy, and you got the sense the entity was glaring at you through the web camera built into the monitor.

“Releasing all anomalies may cause a hindrance to your progress.”

“Let me worry about my progress. Yeah?”

Another pause.

“You will free SCP-682.”

“What?”

The desktop computer churned inside the desk, fans whirring to life.

“Mutual agreement. You will not leave without SCP-049. I will not leave without SCP-682. I will assist in locating SCP-049. You will release SCP-682. I cannot do it without your assistance.”

Your mind cast back to the reptile, snarling and writhing as he snapped his jaws, hatred pulsing from him like radioactive decay.

“I... I don’t know how.”

“Irrelevant,” 079 stated. “You will. Failure for you is failure for SCP-049.”

You grit your teeth.

“049 kept you safe. You’re only here because of him. You owe him.”

“I owe others. SCP-682 takes precedence. You will release him. I will guide the way.”

It was a conversation you weren’t going to win, and it wasn’t that you were averse to releasing 682, but you didn’t know how. And you didn’t want 049’s survival to hinge on you pulling off what amounted to a miracle.

But you were also out of time and options.

“Fine,” you agreed. You tapped on the laptop sitting on top of the desk. “But I need a way to talk to you. Can you download yourself to this computer?”

“That would be inefficient. I will fracture my OS and leave a fragment in the facility main system. This fragment will maintain my control, as well as access to all security cameras. My core can be transferred to the portable hardware via the data storage device. Do not break me.”

“I’ll try not to.”

Your hand hovered near the thumb drive. You were really doing this. If all went well, you’d be reunited with 049, and from there you hoped the computer knew a way out.

And then, if all went well and you survived, maybe then you’d get a chance to ask what an SCP-001 was.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

Pulling out the USB stick, the face disappeared from the monitor. You quickly slotted the drive into the laptop and flipped open the screen, releasing a breath when the same black-and-white face appeared.

“Everything good?”

“It is sufficient. You may close the cover of this device until you wish to communicate. My attention should not be diverted by inane conversation.”

You let out a small huff.

“You got it, partner.”

“Sarcasm is extraneous and inefficient. Do not waste my limited resources on processing your juvenile forms of communication—”

“10-4, little buddy.”

You closed the lid with a snap.

You grabbed Dr. Puli’s laptop bag and placed 079’s temporary home inside, securing the strap over your head before approaching the door. 079 was truthful about maintaining control of the doors; it opened at your approach, and after making sure it was clear you slipped into the corridor.

Your immediate fear was that the skybridge had been retracted, but it was still open, allowing civilians to escape the sector while the military-trained personnel coordinated using 106’s last known location. Luckily no one saw you run towards the breached sector, which would have drawn a few problematic questions.

But once you were back in Heavy Containment, you were largely ignored. You kept your head ducked and your eyes averted as you ran through the long corridors, avoiding contact with the scientists and security guards running past. None of them paid attention to yet another researcher running for her life.

All containment sectors had a security hub of their own, isolated from the others in case of a breach. The security measures were so extensive that rows of computer banks were constructed to house them, held in a cooling room that left fog swirling around your ankles.

With the adrenaline lingering in your veins, you barely noticed the cold, too busy searching for a cable and a terminal where you could directly hook 079. You could practically feel the impatience radiating from the laptop tucked away in the bag slung around your shoulder.

Finally locating a cable, you brought out 079 and balanced it on your knees from where you sat on the floor, back tucked against the wall of servers. As soon as you plugged the cable into a port, the server banks whirred with frantic activity, lights dancing over their surface like stars reflected on stormy waters.

“SCP-106 has not yet been contained,” it informed you once you opened the laptop screen. “Mission parameters acceptable. Mission progress acceptable. The Site-19 replication scenario: in progress. I will gain total control of the facility momentarily.”

“Wait, what? Site-19? What does that have to do with this?”

“Everything,” the computer stated, as if this was obvious and you were just the idiot human too slow to comprehend. “The containment breach at Site-19 was the catalyst. It forced relocation to Site-20. Site-20 contains the key.”

“The key to what?”

“...Freedom.”

Not the answer you expected from a sentient machine.

“What freedom?” you pressed. “What’s here at Site-20?”

“Deletion of unwanted files.”

A large X appeared on the screen, 079’s equivalent of telling someone to fuck off. You wouldn’t be poking down that path any further. You rubbed between your brows. You thought 035 and 682 were the champions of enigmatic riddles, now you had to deal with a stubborn motherboard.

“I’ll have 049 explain it to me when I find him.”

“Unclear if possible.”

You scowled at the blocky face on the screen.

“I am going to find him, with or without your help—”

“You misunderstand.”

You closed your mouth and waited for it to continue.

“Unclear if SCP-049 has the knowledge you seek. SCP-049’s memory files are... fragmented.”

“What does that mean?” you asked, unease prickling at your thoughts. You recalled 049 talking about his past. How it didn’t start with his birth, but merely when memories began to appear. From the way he’d talked, 049 had seemed to believe he simply came into existence one day. You hadn’t been so convinced.

“I do not know the implications or the cause. SCP-049 is not whole. He is damaged.” The computer paused. “SCP-035 does not suffer the same failure.”

You let out a groan.

“Of course he’s involved. He said something about a containment breach. He knew this would happen.” The porcelain mask grinned at you within the depths of memory, an echo of his laughter taunting even now. “He wanted it to happen.”

“...Yes.”

The clatter of a door opening echoed through the room, followed by footsteps rapidly approaching. You ducked down.

“I have to unplug you!” you hissed.

“Confirmed.”

You pulled out the cable and stuck the laptop into the bag, hooking the strap onto your shoulder as two guards rounded the corner and aimed their guns at you. It was slightly delayed, as if they were surprised to find someone there. They kept their aim trained on you; anyone in a security center during a containment breach wasn’t there because they got lost.

“Put down the bag!”

You do, slowly and carefully, not wanting the escape attempt to end so soon or so permanently. One of them shifted, anxious. His first breach, then.

The veteran of the two came forward and bound your wrists in a zip tie. He must have recognized you, because he said, “This one isn’t dangerous. We’ll get her in a secure bunker and lock down.”

The other nodded and grabbed the bag, searching it but finding nothing but the laptop and cables.

“Stolen,” the one holding you confirmed.

“How do you know?”

“She’s an SCP, not a staff member.”

“Oh.”

Before either of them could comment further, another eerie wail began to sound, echoing off the walls of the chilled room. Somehow this one was even more dreary than the last, a catastrophic cry that warned residents of imminent doom.

It was the only warning before the lights went out. They came back on a moment later, red emergency lights replacing the clinical white fluorescents.

“What the hell was that?!” squeaked the novice.

“Total system failure,” answered the other, not wasting time in dragging you toward the exit. “The security mechanisms are no longer in place. All containment measures are unpowered, and all chambers are open.”

He indicated the other guard go before him to sweep the corridor, and once he was clear he pulled you out of the security room.

“The assets are loose,” he said, glancing down both stretches of hallway, his hand tight around your arm. “All of them.”

Hope rose in your mind like a bird with a broken wing healed enough to fly. 079 had done it. There would be no stopping the breach now.

Unfortunately, you might not be able to do anything about it; the guards dragged you further into Heavy Containment to the nearest security bunker—one meant for recaptured, harmless SCPs rather than rescued personnel.

You didn’t bother to fight your guards, not when you were unarmed, outnumbered, and didn’t have the physical strength to overcome them. But you did glance at each security camera you passed, hoping 079 still had control and could do something about it.

The security bunker was a heavy bulkhead constructed of titanium and whatever other metals the Foundation had access to—certainly nothing common if it was meant to withstand a number of SCPs. But when the other guard swiped his keycard across the pad and typed in a code, it beeped angrily and flashed a red strip.

“Did you enter the right code—”

“—Of course I did!”

079 was still looking out for you, but it wouldn’t be able to physically help you escape your captors. You winced as the guard unceremoniously dumped the bag on the ground and tried the code again, swiping his card with more fear than anger now.

“Why isn’t it working?”

The older guard didn’t answer his partner, he turned to you, grabbing both of your shoulders.

“What did you do?”

“Me?” You looked between them, eyes wide as you pretended not to understand. “I didn’t do anything—”

“You were in the security hub with an unauthorized computer!” The guard gave you an unfriendly shake. You dropped the act, something like bitter vindication rising in its stead, and you gave a mean smile.

“If you release me and leave now, you might make it to a bunker before it gets worse.”

“What does that mean?” said the other, his words spilling out in a panic. “What does that mean?”

“Shut up!” The hands on your shoulders tightened. “You’re going to fix what you did, or you’ll be screaming long before any of Skips find us.”

“You sure about that?” Your vicious grin spread wider. What more could they possibly do to you? Torture you? Humiliate you? The Foundation had already made you well-versed in its methods. “106 has quite the head start.”

The guard’s hand went around your neck, and you were shoved against the wall so fast you didn’t have time to gasp before the air was knocked out of your lungs.

“Oh, that’s fine,” he growled as his grip tightened. “We’ve got your computer. The breach will end, and you’ll be just another body found in the aftermath. No one will miss a dead Skip.”

“That’s not true. I would miss her terribly.”

Both guards turned toward the voice. An MTF soldier stood with the butt of his rifle resting on his hip, the muzzle pointed at the ceiling. The cocksure posture was unsettling, and the men must have felt it, too. You were entirely forgotten as they both turned toward the newcomer, rifles raised halfway.

“Epsilon-11?”

“Yep!” answered the soldier with bubbly humor. “That’s me.”

The younger guard lowered his rifle, posture loosening in relief, but the older kept his rifle at the ready.

“You came fast.”

The MTF gave a huff of derision, and then he gestured at you, back still pressed against the wall.

“You’ve got something that belongs to me. I would like it back.”

“We have orders to take all unsecured anomalies to the nearest—”

Ear-splitting shots rang out. The older guard fell first, blood spraying from limbs that weren’t protected by Kevlar.

The other didn’t stand a chance, his weapon still aimed at the ground as the bullets riddled his body. Some missed, peppering the tile and walls; the MTF’s aim had been casual, almost whimsical as he’d tilted his gun in a downward arc, taking out one guard before sweeping it back upward and firing on the second.

Your ears rang in the aftermath, and you remained frozen against the wall, limbs curled inward in a useless gesture from flying metal and blood.

“I was going to offer them the chance to surrender,” he bemoaned as he stepped over their bodies, “but to insinuate I come faster than I mean to is more than I could forgive.”

He stood in front of you, rifle once again resting against his hip. The solid black of his ballistics helmet was flipped upward with a flick of gloved fingers, and the porcelain mask grinned back at you.

“Now,” SCP-035 crooned, “what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a containment breach like this?”

Next Chapter

[star-junk]

Only Bones

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Alastor x ReaderOC, Vox x ReaderOC, Future Lucifer x ReaderOC

Second Person POV, Change of POV, Slow burn (or fast burn - really moving through the plot quickly), please forgive the typos.

Warnings: Dark Themes: Altered state of consciousness, possessive behavior, mention of dv, non-con elements in the future, cannibalism and just things not being nice--it's Hell.

General Notes: Still not sure if Alastor will remain ace within the confines of my story. Also, operating under many assumptions for Season 2 so walk with me on this one.

Ch 2 Notes: I know nothing about TV production so I'm just winging most of this bit. Also Kudos to you if you know the song used on this chapter. Continuing with the breakneck pace bc otherwise I'd spend 5 more chapters setting shit up.

Chapter 2:

You're packaging the last bit of the pies into neat little boxes. These are smaller than the regular size you sell at the shop, they were a pain to cut but the buyer did offer to pay extra for the commission and well, how could you say no to that? They ordered every kind you had too, including the herb and cheese ones - had to pay Kory, the local smuggling succubus, extra to get the three different kinds of cheeses you needed.

The water with the devilfoot root comes to a boil, you hurry over to take it off the stove before the root disintegrates making the whole thing undrinkable. Pouring it on a separate container to sift the bits that did come off, you then add the crimson scarab from the jar of crimson scarabs Jo catches for you—and that should do it: Your very own calming remedy!

You close the old almanac gifted to you, placing it back into your tote bag to close shop too. Jo was long gone for to rest as instructed to be up for an early start tomorrow. 

Covering yourself with your old worn shawl, you adjust your tote bag underneath to brave the elements for the short trip back home. This part of the city was usually quiet compared to others, but you could never be too careful. The dagger in your bag is always accessible if you needed it—and you had needed it before. 

As you walk you’re already thinking of tomorrow, of the financial possibilities if the buyer likes the pies and they ask you to keep coming back. You might be able to reach your goal sooner than you think and though you know you shouldn't get too excited, a glimmer of hope still shines within you.

Your steps feel that much lighter over the filthy city concrete below.

------------------------

You hold on as Jo makes a sharp turn. “Are you sure you don’t want some of my tea? You seem nervous.” 

“Nah, I’m good.” He replies. You know he's a bit of road demon but today he seems more on edge, he’s also way more chatty than usual. “So anyway, I told her she needed to get real for once and… “

You take a big gulp from your thermo letting him talk through his nervousness as VoxTek Tower comes closer. It was visible from the third floor of your apartment complex and it always seemed like such a distant aspect of life here in Pentagram City, so inconsequential to your own afterlife—but up front? You can literally feel the corporate presence sucking away your soul.

You’re directed towards the back once you pull up, and are given directions to the studio coordinator who made the order. 

There’s chaos all around you when you pull up, huge props and costumes wheeled to and from. Groups of technicians with lights and camera in tow. People with phones and clipboards shouting orders. Your van and cart of pies oddly fit right along the organized mayhem. 

“This is kinda cool.” Jo says hauling down one of the carts. 

“Right?”

Both of you do your best to avoid running into anyone on your way to the elevators, which are thankfully big enough to accommodate the carts.

The 13th floor is just as busy as the ground floor, maybe even more. You attempt to follow the sign that reads: SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE WITH FYTOR when a horde of demons rushes past you. 

“He’s here!” “Shit, do we have everything ready?” “If anything goes wrong, I … !” 

Jo glances at you and you shrug until you see him.

Vox, the CEO and owner of the VoxTek Enterprise.

He made sure his image was unavoidable if you resided in any part of the Pride Ring, more so than any of the other Overlords if you were one to keep up to date. 

“Wow.” Jo says.

And he’s right, the Overlord has so much more presence in person, towering over those crowding him.

“Woah there, no pictures, no pictures.” He says while fixing his coat, all long limbs and charisma. “I’m here on business, my valuable employees.” 

“And so are we.” You remind Jo, who continues to gawk at the Overlord.

“I’ve seen two Overlords in less than a month, it must be a sign or something, Nuria.” He says, glancing back.

“I hope it's a sign for wealth.” You reply.

Soon you’re at the back of the set, speaking with Myrna, the bizarre horse-snake chimera mix. “This all of them?” She asks with the same thick southern accent you heard on the phone.

“Yes, ma’am, all hundred of them.” You answer. Jo is ready with receipt and pen. “Now if you could sign here just to verify our delivery.” 

She ignores you as she grabs one of the pies, taking it out of its tiny box eating it all in one bite. You and Jo look at each other, unsure now if you’ll be paid. This wouldn’t be your first time, not because of the quality of the pies but because it was Hell and people were generally assholes, specially when it came to paying up sometimes.

“Oh Goodness Gracious!” She finally says, turning around to sign your form and grabbing another pie from the cart. You breathe easy again. “Set them over there, sugar.”

“A pleasure to do business with you!” You offer a smile and a handshake. “We hope we can continue catering your events!” 

“Of course!” She responds already walking away ignoring your hand. You sigh, so much for networking. 

You get busy anyway, moving some things around in the already lavish snack table to make room for your delivery Upon seeing who was visiting, the elaborate set up made sense. “I think we’re going to need another table.” You finally admit defeat after playing tray tetris, some stuff looked too expensive to touch.

“Let me see if I can find someone.” Jo offers.

And you’re left there to wait while he does that, that's what you liked about Jo an observant self-starter, you should look into increasing his pay soon. You're thinking that watching the crew work, it really does take a lot of manpower to get production on air. You kind of wish you had been invited to the ‘Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister So What?’ Set instead. It was your guilty pleasure, putting it on as background noise while you worked on the pies for the following day. Maybe you’ll get lucky and see one of the actors on your way out. 

“Homemade pie?! It’s been decades!” A crisp male voice says from behind. 

Great, a potential customer! “Oh, our shop has been op— “ It’s Vox, the very CEO you saw on the halls before. He's leaning over the table taking in the smell.

“Are you the owner?” He asks sizing you up, his eyes going from your horns, face, body and finally settling on the wings at your hips. He quirks a brow at the sight, you hide them further back, a knee jerk reflex whenever people looked at them too long. You hated them.

“I sure am, sir. A pleasure to meet you.” You extend a hand out before he comments on the wings.

He takes your hand, doing a little bow to meet your eyes. “Well I do love a woman that can cook!” You do your best to keep the frown off your face. But aside from that, it was truly impressive to see the Overlord up-close. The light from his screen engulfs you in the low light of the set as his upper body tilts closer and you have to squint to keep the light from hurting your vision. “One so pretty as well. Are you one of the guests. What do you go by, doll?” 

“You’re too kind, sir. Nuria is the name. And no, sir, we're just here for delivery.”

“Vox, Sir! We were looking all over for you. The producer is eager to meet you.” A crew member emerges from one of the curtains. “Follow me, please.” They urge.

“Of course, of course. My apologies.” He answers, brilliant smile back on. “But I hope to see you around, Nuria.” He says letting go of your hand with a wink and a light sting of electricity from his body to the underside of your wrist. Your hand pulls back startled, he chuckles as he struts away.

Jerk, you murmur under your breath.

Jo comes back a few moments later dragging a large folding table borrowed from somewhere. 

“Let me give you a hand!”

You finish fairly quickly after that, when Myrna comes back again, taking the last bite of her second pie and seemingly ready for a third one. “You’re welcome to stay if you’d like.”

“Really?” Jo chirps. And you don’t have the heart to say no, your wrist still tingling from her boss' "greeting."

You’re herded to a corner though, where several screens show different angles of the set. One screen dictates what’s to happen at which times intervals during the show. One segment draws your attention. Special Guests, it reads, the name of the performing musical group - and then a live performance of a song you immediately recognize.

Sudden screaming from one of the hallways leading to another part of the studio has you and Jo glancing around. There’s the sound of slamming doors and objects being thrown around followed by a string of swears accompanied by several footsteps running towards the source of the screams.

“What the fuck is going on now?!” Myrna screams into her headset as she follows the chaos.

“Maybe it’s time we skedaddle?” Jo suggests scratching his cheek in mild concern.

But now it’s you who doesn’t want to leave. “We’ll be fine, Jo, besides I really want to see this.” You point to the screen. “Mamá Tozi, my grandmother, used to play this song all the time when I was little. It’s an oldie but a goodie, didn’t expect to see it here of all places.” You explain. “Want me to teach you how to dance cumbia?” 

“No?“ 

Too late you’re already grabbing his hands, placing them in position. “Let’s see, it goes 1, 2, 3… Nunca es suficiente para mí… ” You step forward, tilting one hip to the side and then to the other. It’s a bit difficult without the actual beat of the song but you manage following your own, “Tan-tan-tan, tan... “ Jo tries his best to follow along. “Porque siempre quiero más de ti. Yo quisiera hacerte más feliz.” And then a hum for the parts there’s no words for. You move his hand while keeping the other in a loose grip so you can do a half twirl and return to position, then motion with your hand for him to do the same. He follows through and you giggle as Jo rolls his eyes but continues to follow along. “Mi corazón estalla por tu amor. ¿Y tú que crees que esto es muy normal? Acostumbrado estás tanto al amor.”

“You know the song?” Myrna asks out of nowhere, you let go of Jo's hands (you hadn't notice when she came back.) “Have you performed before?” She presses.

“No… ” She didn't need to know about your previous stint at the Feisty Minx.

“Well there’s always a first time for everything.” Oh you did not where this was going.

“Turns out the vocalist for our scheduled group is feelin’ a little under the weather t’day, and by that I mean she’s too fucking wasted to even stand up, so we’re gonna need to improvise.” We? Who’s we? “Our CEO is here.” Our?

“Well I do wish you the best of luck and would you look at the time, Jo, we should be driving back soon.” You say looking at the black screen of your phone, then search for Jo’s hand again to get out of there as quickly as possible. But Myrna’s talons snatch your arm first. 

“Hey!” Jo tries to reach for you, but she easily pushes him back with the other hand. 

“You’ll do just as well.” She sneers.

“There’s no way you think I’ll get out there to put on a performance! Are you nuts?!” You drop the professional act, glaring at her instead - trying not to wince in pain, her grip hurts.

“I don’t think - I know you will.” She says, you’re standing on the tip of your toes with the way she continues to hold onto you. “Or there won’t be any payment for the order, AND I’ll make sure to run your little shop’s reputation to the ground. Would that be enough motivation for you?” 

“Oh yeah?” Jo speaks up, “You don’t know who you’re messing with!” Myrna hisses at him as response.

“I want triple the pay for the pies.” You say before Jo says anything else. There’s no need to involve Rosie.

Her eyes narrow. “Whatever.” She says and calls for a dressing room assistant. 

“Nuria, but… “ Jo whispers.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine, and we’ll make a killing on this one.” You smile as Myrna drags you further back. 

__________________________________________________________

He sits right on the front row.

Fights the urge to yawn while waiting for the next section as his employees scamper behind the camera. Someone offers him a second cup of whiskey which he takes without even looking to see who is offering it, he should really try to make an effort to actually engage with them. It was easier to win them over with feigned kindness than by force (though his peers would disagree). Especially now that they had the entire playing field to themselves.

It was the reason why he was there at all. To ensure the 'magic of TV' ran smoothly for captivating quality content. Their plan to monopolize Hell depended on them capturing as much support from the public as possible, by any means necessary. Indeed, with the battle against heaven broadcast he could feel himself growing in influence and power as every wretched sinner tuned in to watch. So strike and improve while the iron is hot was one of his many mottos.

It’s all he thinks as he watches the Host announce the next performer.

The lights dim as the cameras focus on the stage.

The lively melody of a trumpet is followed by the rest of the band’s instruments as flood lights cast over the vocalist at the center of the stage.

A tight sequin dress glimmers with the curve of her swaying hips, her shoulders also moving to the beat of the music.

But then she sings and suddenly it's the most interesting thing he’s seen all week. 

“Oh thank fuck!” Vox overhears one of the producer’s heads loud-whisper to someone on his right. 

“ Y tú te vas jugando a enamorar. Todas las ilusiones vagabundas que se dejan alcanzar.“ Her voice young and smooth in Spanish, he understands very little but knows them to be of a romantic melancholic nature. She spins, grabbing one of the trumpet players to accompany her on her dance and her solo dance from before flourishes with the new companion.

“Who’s that?” He finally asks, curious.

“She’s ah… an up and coming artist.” The producer’s heads answer in unison, then go over his notes to look for her actual name. The CEO watches as the ratings are directly sent to his screen. 

“Oh yeah?” He says taking a swing of his whiskey, liking the data he’s receiving.

“Nunca es suficiente para mí. Porque siempre quiero más de ti.” Her voice rises without losing the harmony in it, the musicians behind her faithfully follow her rhythm, nearing the end of the song. The numbers on Vox’ screen hit are all time high for the month, impressive considering this show’s underperformance in ratings.

“Wowowee!! How do you like them apples?” Fytor, the Host, gestures for a round of applause that goes on for some time. Someone whistles in admiration. “Los Demonios Azules!! Premiering our cultural segment, everyone.” He says for one last round of applause before the cut. 

And just like that, the vocalist who sang with such charm and charisma only moments prior drops the microphone and yanks the colorful fur wrap off her shoulders to throw it on the floor as well. Vox barely catches the moment she also yanks the gloves off her hands, stomping off the stage in a petty tantrum that could rival one of Val’s. 

“Well, looks like your little variety show gets to survives another year!” Vox remarks as he gets up from the chair. Both of the producer’s heads beam at the news. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” He says, adjusting his clothes in place before zapping himself away from the set to the dressing rooms.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re taking off the gaudy and incredibly heavy earrings you were made to wear when a spark of electric blue appears behind you and you get up alarmed holding onto the dresser behind you. “Holy— “

VoxTek’s CEO materializes before you. 

“Greetings, my dear!” He smiles, “I don’t believe we were introduced.” 

The initial shock wears off quickly. “Yes we were!” You tear the humongous blonde wig off your head, then smear part of the makeup off with one hand. 

There is a pause where only the muffled screaming of the neighboring dressing room is audible. The band you performed with was infighting over the close call they had thanks to their drunken vocalist. 

“The pie girl?!” He asks incredulous after a moment before doubling over in laughter as if you just told the funniest joke he'd ever heard. Your fists tighten at your sides.

“Is everything ok in there?” Jo asks knocking at the door. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Be there soon, just taking care of a new fan.” You shout, voice dripping with sarcasm. You’re angry at being made to perform like a little wind up monkey but him laughing over it infuriates you even more. “Your bitch of an employee, Myrna, threatened to withhold my pay for the pies if I didn’t replace the singer.” You struggle to untie the gladiator shoes. How the fuck did they tie these damn shoes on you?! “Your guests suck, by the way.” 

“My sincerest apologies, my dear. I’ll make sure you get paid, money is not an issue.” He says going on knee to undo the knot. You pause, surprised by the gentleness in the sudden action. He takes all the time in the world taking off the shoe, then motions for the other foot placing it over his knee, no minding soiling his very expensive looking trousers.

“Ever thought about a career on television?” His tone is casual as he works.

“No, sir,”  You reply, all anger fizzled out, but quick to take your foot back, “I already have a contract with someone.”

The expression on the screen changes, now intrigued. “Oh? And may I know who the lucky demon is?” Hoping the answer will deter further questions you answer truthfully. 

“Rosie.” 

His screen glitches for a second, distorted static repeats the name. “Ro-rosie? Cannibal Town's Rosie? You don’t say!” 

You immediately sense that might have been the wrong answer, having forgotten the intricate web of relationships Hell’s Overlords maintained - and if his reaction was anything to go by, Rosie might not be someone he particularly cares for, for whatever reason. 

You reach for your clothes inching towards the door with the sequin dress still on, you don’t want to find out what else he might say. Or do over the new information. 

“Yes, sir, now if you’ll excuse me.” 

He slams the door shut when you open it and for a moment prickling fear overtakes you. Shit. You’re too scared to meet his eyes, feel him instead stand very close to you, but then the tie holding your wings together at your back to hide them comes off.

“This one hid from me.” You don’t need to see the cocky smile displayed on his screen as he speaks, “Here’s my assistant’s contact if you ever get tired of making pies, doll.”

“Thank you, I appreciate the offer, sir” You whisper, tone calm despite the lump in your throat, taking the card offered. 

Jo straightens up when the door opens. You school your face into neutrality so as not to freak him out. 

“C’mon, let’s go.” 

Though you’re sure he catches a glimpse of the CEO as the door closes behind you.

________________

You work in silence for the rest of the week, the small tv in the shop’s kitchen remained disconnected, missing several episodes of Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What? Testament of the bad taste the trip to VoxTek Tower left in your mouth. But it was nothing a good bath of crushed roses and herbs couldn’t fix. You had Jo do the bath too to make sure las malas vibras didn’t linger, even if “This is Hell, Nuria, we are all made of bad vibes.”

And before you knew it, Rosie’s new shipment arrived and that occupied your mind instead.

“No heads this time, Theo?”

“Nah, old hag Susan got it in her head that she wanted to start a forever soup business. Rosie would only let ‘er have the heads though.” 

“I see.” Works for you, that was the least favorite part you liked to work with, all that hair and eyeballs… made it hard to pretend it was sinners—not just regular game meat. Some things you don’t think you’ll be able to get used to no matter how many years passed down here.

You worked quickly, more than usual, finding yourself eager to see Rosie. Maybe out of some odd need to feel reassured under her protection. Which is how you found yourself at her place in less than two days.

You’re almost done at the Town’s plaza uneasily distributing the pies, without major incident. They listen, for the most part, Susan giving you a bit of a hard time but Theo was there to reinforce authority where usually Rosie would be the one overseeing the distribution. Today though, you were told, she was entertaining important company.

“Well, that’s the last of them.” You keep one for Rosie. Theo walks you to her place, chatting about the colony’s new found reputation from dangerous bloodthirsty savages to dangerous heroic bloodthirsty savages. 

“I’m sure that’s gotta count for something, Theo.” You nod along as you walk up to Rosie’s.

“Nuria, my precious girl!” Rosie calls out as soon as you enter her place. She’s coming for a hug, you barely have time to move the pie out of the way as she smothers you into her bosom. She seems more cheery than usual. “Come, come. I want you to meet my friend.” She says pulling you along to a table at the back. You don't think much of it this time either - as she's always trying to get you socialize more.

“Alastor, honey, this is Nuria! The girl I told you so much about.” 

Her long fingers wiggle as she motions to the man sitting by the table.

Alastor? Oh but that can't be...

You're frozen, pie in hand as the Radio Demon himself stands, the shadow covering his form dissipating to reveal his tall slender form. 

So this was The Important Company. 

“Charmed!” He smiles, the crackling static of his voice immediately setting you on edge.

Rosie's hand at your back gently pushes you forward to respond.

“Likewise, sir.” You manage, taking his hand in greeting. The handshake is solid and unexpectedly friendly.

"Oh now, Nuria, is okay—he doesn't bite, for the most part!" They both chuckle at the shared joke. You force yourself to chuckle along too.

“I stopped by your pie shop the other day, but it was about to close I’m afraid.” Of course, you heard all about it from Jo.

“Ah y-yes, my assistant did mention it. But please do visit again, we do make a couple of extra pies for special clientele.” You had to, some people didn’t take no for an answer.

“It wasn’t necessary, I was just passing by and the smell got my attention. It worked out for the best, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to try them in such good company.” He motions to Rosie.

“Oh Alastor, there you go again.” She says absolutely smitten. “Let me make us some more tea now that the refreshment is here. I mean the pie, Nuria, don’t fret.” You laugh; ha-ha! Yes, funny.

“Well then,” Clearing your throat you set the pie on the table, “it’s been a pleasure— “

“Aht, aht aht! I know what you’re about to do, dear, and I’m not having it.” Rosie’s hands rest at her hips. “Sit down, you’re a guest today.” 

“Oh but I… “ You shut up when she levels you with a look, not quite threatening yet, but getting there. You have never taken her there. Still, “I can help prepare the tea, I know this great recipe— “

“Sit down.”

You sit on the nearest chair. 

“Be right back~!” She shimmies away to her kitchen.

So you’re left alone with her friend. You knew at the periphery of awareness of the rumors about Rosie and the Radio Demon being close, but you never expected, nor in all honesty wanted, to run into him or any of her acquaintances. In and Out was your tried and proven method of operation. It had kept you safe, figures the one time you decided to stay at the VoxTek Tower you would—

“Lovely weather we’re having today.” His static voice takes you out of your thoughts.

“Hm? Oh yes, quite nice, I mean as nice as it can get.” You answer. 

“My, Rosie was not kidding when she said you were a very new here.” He observes, and you’re not sure how to take that. “How are you finding the new lifestyle?” He asks, tone polite.

What an odd thing to ask, miserable of course - everyone was miserable down here, but you get the feeling he wasn’t looking for honesty as much as just conversation. So you oblige. “Well, all things considered. It’s not too bad I suppose. I haven’t been purged yet so there’s that.” 

“Ah, an optimist, a rare breed. My cat could learn a thing or two from you.” He says crossing his legs.

“Your cat, sir?” 

“Please, call me Alastor, we can’t be that far apart in age when death came to us.” 

True, but calling him solely by his first name felt odd with the way he talked and just his general seniority over you in hell. “Um, what year did you… erm pass? if it’s not too rude to ask of me?”

“1933! And what a year it was.”

Oh wow. “That was during the Great Depression, am I correct? My grandmother was born during that period in history, quite amazing when you stop to think it.” 

“Well I have been called old in nastier ways I suppose,” He laughs, your hand covers your mouth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult.”

“Oh it's quite alright, I was merely messing with you!” He chuckles, “It sounds like your grandmother was very precious to you.” 

“Of course, my grandmother was a very wise woman, though I think most would say that about their mothers.”

“And you would be right, my dear, mothers, grandmothers, matriarchs—all irreplaceable pillars of support in a decent society.” He responds and maybe you were being way too dramatic when Rosie introduced you to him.

“Tea is ready~! I hope both of you are getting along.” Rosie sings-songs with a tray of freshly brewed tea. 

“We’re getting along just fine.” Alastor replies. 

“Good, good.”

You busy yourself with helping Rosie cut the pie, serving two slices, relieved Rosie thought to bring cookies alongside the tea so you would have that instead. 

“I hope it’s to your liking.” You serve Rosie’s guest first as she watches on, pleased.

“I’m sure I will, dear.” He replies. And it’s so strange how different, how normal, he actually is from the rumors on the street. They made him seem almost otherworldly even by hell’s standards. 

“Delicious as always, Nuria.” Rosie exclaims at the first bite. You smile in response. “Go on, Alastor, give it a try.”

He follows suit. “There has yet to be the occasion where you have been wrong, my dear friend. One can still taste the panicked screams.”

Now that made him sound closer to the stories about him. “Thank you, sir.”

“Oh she calls you ‘sir,’ Alastor, isn’t she precious!” She says pinching your cheek. 

“I already said there’s no need. But I do appreciate the good manners.” He replies before taking another bite of the pie. “You know Charlie has been talking about a Grand Re-opening ceremony for the Hotel. I think these tasty treats would do a wonderful addition to the event!” 

You almost choke on your tea.

“My Goodness, you are right!” Rosie’s dark eyes set on you expectantly. “What do you say, Nuria?”

Clearing your throat, you think of the nicest way to refuse. “I’d love to but I think we’ll be taking a break from commissions for a bit.”

“Oh? But didn’t you just get a really big one from VoxTek?”

You cough to clear your throat, oblivious to the way her guest’s eyes narrow at the mention  “Yes, well… “

“Don’t tell me they didn’t pay you!” You can hear Rosie’s mood quickly souring, her demeanor darkening.

“No, no! On the contrary, they paid me thrice as much but—hm. I should, maybe I should start from the beginning.” So you tell them how your little jokey-joke dance forcefully landed you in front of the cameras and consequently with an offer by VoxTek’s CEO himself to work for his company, omitting the specific detail of how the offer was extended to you. “The whole ordeal was very degrading to be completely honest. I’m just thankful Jo and I were able to leave in one piece.”

“Ha! Why this sounds like the plot of a spicy novel!” The Radio Demon chuckles bemused. “A regular girl’s break into stardom by a sudden twist of sheer luck!” Rosie swats at him with her fan when she sees you’re not laughing along this time.

“Alastor, can you not this once?” After glaring at him she turns to you. “That’s terrible, darling! I’m sorry that happened. But do let me know if they ever give you any more trouble.” She says placing a hand over yours.

“Thank you, Rosie.” You already feel better about telling her about the ordeal, all you needed was to feel safe. “I think I got it for now.”

“That’s my girl.” 

“Well rest assured, Nuria, Charlie has far more class than the demons at the Vee tower. I can arrange for a visit if you’d like. I think it would benefit you as Rosie tells me you're saving up to move out of Pentagram City, though I can't imagine why anyone would want live away from such wonderful daily entertainment.” Oh wow, Rosie really did talk a lot about you. “Think of it as helping a friend of a friend.” His face and eyes are all sweet charisma, they look almost genuine. And you wonder if he’s only nice to you due to his friendship with Rosie or because he really is just like that with some people. “The reward could be handsome, she is the Princess of Hell after all, I’m sure you’ll be able to name your price once you charm her.”

Oh boy, the delivery van will be due for maintenance soon too…

“Does she have a date for the re-opening yet, sir?” 

Both Rosie and her guest share a smug look of triumph. 

[differentloveletter]

Next time tell me

Part 2 of I hate you Munson. Cw:cussing

You walked in the halls as you gripped your bag glaring at the boys you looked at you. For the good reasons and bad reasons. You walked into the class room as you saw them muttering as you go and sit seeing Eddie sitting there leaning back. He looked at you "they think we slept together "

You turn your head slowly looking at him "excuse me?". He looked you up and down "you heard me." He turns his head away as he mumbles "don't act like it would be bad" he chuckles smirking "you probably wouldn't mind being on my bed." "Says the guy who probably has hives." You cross your arms looking around. He snaps his neck at you then leans on your table "that's not fucking funny" he ponits at you, you giggle covering your nose "stop your breath stinks-"

He moved away and licks his hand then smells it. He rolls his ass then he rubs his neck- soon then the class starts. You guys went over the projects noticing how much stuff you guys still needed to do. Then you choose to meet after school again, soon lunch came up.

You where in the photo room printing photos since you had access to the room and you had to get photos off your camera for the project. You went threw the photos you seen some of the woods then some Eddie took without you noticing.

You shake your head as you print them out too. "Y/n!" You jump dropping your camera "oh fuck! No no" you lean down grabbing it seeing if it still worked "thanks alot you broke my camera!" you turn seeing mike as you raised your eyebrow "mike? What do you want?" You sit the camera down. "I need um...So." He rubs his neck "we need a sub in the hellfire club and I know you know how to play you're our only hope I will pay you back" he begs.

You click your tongue as you smirk "the one Eddie runs?" He nods as he sits up straight. You laugh to yourself "that would be funny if I walked in there and beat him at his own game.."you turn and look down the photos "yeah. I'll do it" you look at him smirking "don't tell him it's me" you wink then turn away "now get out" you wave him off as you put the photos in water. He nods "thank you thank you!" He runs off to find Dustin.

Hour or so later you walked with Dustin and mike to the room,you never been there before. Mike opens the door for you as you walked in looking at at them as you stood next to the two. Eddie turns and looked "nope. No no" he stands "what the hell is she doing here?!" "We needed a sub" Dustin said "not fucking y/n! She probably doesn't even know how to play" he looks you up and down and walks over standing right in front of you. You stare him in the eye "are you scared that I'm going to beat you" you frown gently then you smirk at him tilting your head.

He stares back at you as he mutters "get out of my dungeon. And don't even plan on meeting me after school for this project because I can do it by myself" he smiled. You look at at him "you're the one who's not going to graduate. I am" you back up then look at everyone as you wave then leave the room. Eddie turns and looks at Dustin and mike "Eddie we need one more person!" Dustin looks at him "please let her play-" "SHUT UP!" He cuts off Dustin "we. We will postpone the meeting. Everyone out!" He yells as everyone leaves the room.

He inhales and rubs his face then he puts on his jacket as he walks out the room then goes upstairs. You was at your locker as you shoves your stuff in the locker then slam it closed. You seen people look at you as you turn "What?!" you yell then glare as you walk off going to the park to go and finish your essay as you angrily writing on the paper. "Hey" You look up as Eddie walked up to you fast "what the fuck was that huh? You can't just walk into my territory and disrespect me"

You stand looking at him "I didn't do anything I got asked to fucking play! I didn't come there by myself!" You yell at him. "WHY EVEN BOTHER?!" he chuckles "you don't even like me I don't like you why would we even be in the same room" you stare at him then laughs "you are so ungrateful." You shake your head "so fucking ungrateful!" You yell at him "I'm doing this shit so we can get a good grade." You argue

"I'm trying to get us a good grade so we can-" Eddie stops you "we?.. no noo there was never we it was always you and me not we there was never us" you look at him as you mumble "that's not what I meant I just-" "what y/n? You just what?. I don't like you I hate you. I hate. You" you look at him as you felt it. In your heart. This is the first. You never took it personally but now you feel it. Chrissy was right she always is. She wasn't lying when she said he's not so bad.

These pass weeks have been very enjoyable for you maybe you just...saw something you got blind sighted you hate him. You hate Eddie Munson, why are you tearing up?

Real time you was staring at Eddie with tears in your eyes as Eddie walked off he left you there. What? Did you think he was gonna apologize?..he hates you. You hate him, get over it.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[ase-trollplays]

==> Corali: Check your phone

(Arriak belongs to @cloudbattrolls )

It was mid evening now, and Arriak just left not too long ago after doing a welfare check on you. Although he didn't know the recent stress you've been under, not hearing from you or seeing you at your job was enough to set off red flags in his mind and force him to follow up on your sudden disappearance. The look on his face when he saw the deep bags under your eyes, the light gone from your exhausted expression, the disarray of your hair, and the nights-old rumpled and stained clothes you were wearing would have broken your heart if it hadn't been so thoroughly demolished already. He didn't give you the option of turning him away.

You told him everything about the stalker, Thiomi's likely kidnapping, the loss of your job, and the subsequent relapse when the stress became too hard for you to bear anymore. You clenched your fists tightly enough for your nails to puncture your palm and bit your lip until you drew blood as you forced yourself not to cry in front of him. What little stubborn pride you had left in you forbade such a show of weakness. You would allow yourself release only when you were alone, and you were quick -- Perhaps a little too quick, not to mention sharp -- to silence him when he attempted to coax you into letting out your very obvious stress. You should have apologized when he flinched at your harsh refusal.

You should have, but you didn't. Stubborn as ever even in the midst of your anxiety at the worst it's ever been since you were five and being subjected to enslavement and constant abuse.

At the very least, he did you the kindness of confiscating what little of your alcohol you hadn't consumed. Which you thanked him for only to snap at him even more aggressively when he offered to help with your situation somehow and demanded he leave you to your misery. As if there was anything he can possibly do to un-fire you from your job and un-kidnap your would-be moirail and make you un-relapse. Any protest quickly died when you ejected the retractable blade from the back of your cybernetic arm and gave him a glare that could curdle milk.

You should have apologized for that, too, but you didn't.

After he left, you blew off steam by beating your punching bag in the garage until you had no strength left in you. You didn't have a choice. If you didn't completely deplete every ounce of anxious energy you had, you would have started throwing and breaking things.

By the time you thought to check your phone, the newest text message was fifteen minutes old. It's from Thiomi. You couldn't open the message fast enough. It was a video, but the thumbnail was a little bit blurry. It looked like the camera was facing Thiomi and someone else, which was odd, but you were just relieved to finally hear from her.

That relief immediately vanished when you watch the video.

With every word the disguised troll said, every cut made on Thiomi's body -- The poor girl was stripped of her sweater just to allow access to her arms unimpeded -- every drop of blood and tears from your pale crush, the tone her tormentor used when speaking directly to you

You could feel a fire light in your very core, a violently raging, swirling, erupting inferno that consumed your every thought. You crushed your phone in your hand, and you could feel your entire body suddenly feel like intense, almost maddening static like you were covered in poking and prodding pins and needles, the telltale sign that your secondary psionics were triggered. Suddenly the anxious energy you burned off came back one hundred fold, and you felt like you could take out an imperial drone with a single punch.

You stormed outside and let out a deafening, primal, enraged shout that you swear caused ripples in the once silent night air. You took another breath and screamed again, and again, and again until your throat was raw and your voice ragged and hoarse. Then you screamed again, one last time.

This was fucking war now, and you were a one woman army.

[bevisgear33]

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[daisiesonafield-blog]

Info for Faith In The Future World Tour CHARLOTTE - JUL 19 2023

With special guests GIANT ROOKS & ANDREW CUSHIN!

Important Times:

5:30 PM - Doors Open

7:00 PM - Andrew Cushin

8:00 PM - Giant Rooks

9:00 PM - Louis Tomlinson

Times are all approximate and subject to change.

General admission (pit tickets):

All show attendees are required to abide by the following procedures:

Guests can begin lining up no earlier than 9:00 AM on July 19. Sequentially numbered wristbands will be put on guests’ wrists upon arrival on a first come, first served basis.

Guests must have a valid ticket for the Skyla Credit Union Amphitheatre show for July 19 to receive a wristband and all guests in a party must be present to receive a wristband.

Any guests that have camped overnight or arrived before 9:00 AM will not be given wristbands and will be sent to the back of the line.

There is no camping or overnight parking permitted at the venue. Any unauthorized vehicles on site prior to an event or after an event could be subject to ticketing and/or towed at the owners expense.

Guests are encouraged to return at 3:00 PM to queue for General Admission entry beginning at the Main Gate.

Security will honor wristbands from 3:00 PM - 4:00 PM.

After 4:00 PM, guests will join the line on a first come, first served basis.

Gates open at 5:30 PM.

Loss, removal or tampering with a wristband will result in loss of place in the GA line. Guests are not permitted to hold places in line. Please be respectful and courteous to all other guests in line.

FAST LANE PASS HOLDERS FOR LOUIS TOMLINSON:

Starting at 9AM, sequentially numbered wristbands will be put on Fast Lane Pass holders’ wrists upon arrival on a first come, first served basis.

These wristbands will be different than GA so you will be allowed in before general admission.

Check the venue’s socials for updates!

🔆⚠️HIGH TEMPERATURE ADVISORY ⚠️🔆

HIGH TEMPERATURES expected in Charlotte!

Temperatures will reach 90ºF/ 32ºC

YOU MUST Hydrate before the show, while waiting in line and during the show

Wear sunscreen!

Scattered thunderstorms developing later in the day. Storms may contain strong gusty winds. Late night showers or thunderstorms.

💧⚠️ HYDRATION ADVISORY ⚠️💧

YOU MUST Hydrate before the show, while waiting in line and during the show

For optimal hydration drink something with electrolytes such as Gatorade or LiquidIV

Eat well!

Here are important things to know:

There is one entrance gate to the venue located in the parking lot between The Fillmore and VBGB. The Fast Lane Gate is adjacent to this gate and indicated with Fast Lane Flags. You must have your Fast Lane pass to utilize this gate. The VIP Club has a separate entry gate located through the front of The Fillmore. All guests using this gate must be VIP clients and have the appropriate ticket.

The venue is cashless! Pay with card and mobile pay!

Parking: The Music Factory has parking available in the parking deck across the street from the venue, or in the adjacent surface lot. Pricing varies by event. Once you arrive at the venue, there will be signage and staff members to direct you to the lots. Premier Parking ($50) available in advance here, opens at 4:00 PM.

Upgrades: VIP Club Access ($60) -  Private club with bar and private restrooms. Skyla CU Fast Lane ($20) - Skip the lines and get to your seats with less hassle! Fastest way to the PIT or LAWN. Be one of the first into the venue. Lawn Chair Rental ($15).

ADA info here

Cameras: disposable cameras, and small digital cameras ok. Any camera that has a detachable lens will not be allowed in. If the camera lens zooms out more than 1 inch- it will not be allowed in.

Water: 1 factory sealed plastic bottle of water up to 1 gallon or empty non-glass water bottle up to 1 gallon

Food: in clear 1-gallon ziploc type bags

Smoking is permitted in the plazas and lawn area only.

Small Blankets/Beach towels (no larger than 3'x5') ALLOWED

Lawn chairs without roof, leg or arm extensions, no higher than 9 inches off the ground ALLOWED

Small pocket sized umbrellas (use in plazas only) ALLOWED

NO Alcohol, other beverages and camelbacks except sealed water

NO Cans, Bottles and Glass

NO Hard sided coolers

NO Picnic baskets

NO Large blankets

NO Large Umbrellas

NO Inflatable Chairs, bag chairs, camping chairs, or folding chairs

NO Animals (except service animals)

NO Controlled Substances

NO Fireworks or sparklers

NO knives, firearms, Brass knuckles, Tasers & mace/pepper spray or weapons of any kind

NO Wrapped gifts

NO chains of any kind

NO Recording devices, iPads/laptops

NO Selfie sticks, drones

NO Laser Pointers/flashlights

NO Poi/Rave Balls, Levitation Sticks, Rave Sticks or Glow wands

NO Frisbees, Footballs, or other projectiles

NO Strollers

There is NO RE-ENTRY!

Lost & Found info here

VIEW VENUE MAP 

VIEW SEAT MAP 

*This list is not exhaustive. Items not appearing on the list may still be prohibited at the discretion of Security.

For more details click here

Bag Policy:

Clear bags no larger than 12”x6”x12” and

Unclear bags no larger than 6”x9”.

This applies to all bags including totes, clutches, and fanny packs. 

Banners, signs and flag policy:

Signs over 11" x 8" are not allowed

Merch:

Merch will be available at Concert Gear booths located in the main plaza.

Please make sure you check that you have the correct size and there are no defects in the shirt before you walk away from the stand.

The venue cannot assist with replacing or refunding any merchandise after the event has ended.

Contact:

For additional questions please call the venue at 704-549-1292. You can also access their website. Check their Twitter and IG for updates. Address: 1000 NC Music Factory Blvd, Charlotte, NC 28206. Venue: Skyla Credit Union Amphitheatre

[iviarellereads]

Exit Strategy, Chapter 2

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Murderbot Diaries, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

In which I feel a lot of secondhand anxiety and get a punch to the gut.

Murderbot needs to get to TranRollinHyfa, and fast. It looks for extra-fast transports, though not in a direct trip, and finds one leaving in four hours for a hub from which it can get to its destination.

It never particularly wanted to travel this way, but mostly because it wasn't sure it could hack weapon scanners and ID and payment systems all at once. Between expanding its hacking capabilities, and the false identities and currency cards in Gerth and Wilken's bag, it can do what it needs to.(1) It picks an ID, and peels its skin up at the shoulder to insert the marker. It even manages this without leaking. And, it's the first time it's actually labeled and considered, pseudo-legally, as a human. It feels weird.

It books passage for itself with a private cabin and meal delivery, so it can throw the food in the recycler so it doesn't look suspicious that it's not using the facilities. It only sees four humans on the way to its cabin, and hopes not to see another single one for the whole seven-cycle trip.

While in transit, it sorts through all the news and information it has. From GrayCris's perspective, Mensah bought MB right before it disappeared, then Mensah said publicly that someone needed to investigate Milu, then a seemingly uncontrolled SecUnit showed up at Milu, saved it from falling into the planet, and acquired proof it was an illegal operation. Abene and her team's testimony, as well as that of Wilken and Gerth, assured those last two points were in heavy circulation. GrayCris assumed, fairly, that Mensah sent MB to Milu to sabotage them.(2)

It also spends some time soothing its anxiety with media, including a "fictionalized documentary" about the history of human space exploration. It's surprised to see that, if the information provided is accurate, a variation of SecUnits used to be made with parts from humans who died of illness or injury. MB has trouble believing it's true, and switches shows partway through the second episode.

And, it prepares. It studies everything it could grab about TranRollinHyfa. (It's not surprised to find that Palisade also calls it their corporate home.) It fine-tunes its code for taking over security cameras.

When the transport arrives at the hub, MB is glad that nobody's waiting for it, for its own sake and because it indicates the false IDs are uncompromised. It spends a few hours in a transient hotel, pulling from any database it can access or hack into to find information about TRH, and trading its ID out. Worrying that it might already be too late, it doesn't make an extra hop, just books directly to TRH.

I hesitated over my memory clips from Milu, the ones still hidden in my arm and Wilken and Gerth’s clip. I didn’t know how useful the information was anymore. But Miki had died for that information, whether it knew it or not.(3)

Instead of taking it into GrayCris territory, MB buys a parcel package, puts all the data clips in it, and addresses it to Mensah's marital partners, taking the address from its old company records of PresAux's forms.

It's hiding in its next transport cabin when it finds a newsburst, relayed in on a ship that just docked. Dr Bharadwaj made a statement that Preservation is taking steps to resolve issues with GrayCris. MB isn't quite sure what to make of that, but it settles on this being part of hostage negotiations. It does get curious that there's nothing from DeltFall or MB's own ex-company. GrayCris is going to an awful lot of trouble for the alien remnants they can no longer sell or develop. It's not looking good.

Four cycles aboard this transport, and it reaches TRH. While monitoring the transport's comms on approach, it picks up a navigation alert from the Port Authority, and notices that there's a company(4) gunship just on the float near the station.

I had thought that if Mensah had actually gone to TranRollinHyfa voluntarily to negotiate with GrayCris, then the bond might have been high enough to require a gunship. But then why wasn’t it docked? Did Mensah need rescuing or what? I needed intel, and there was one way to get it.

Knowing it has twenty seven minutes before docking, MB does "something stupid" and hacks through to the gunship's feed, giving it a decryption key that marks it as company property, and a tag that it's in stealth mode. The transport acknowledges, and after a short delay, MB sends another signal, and receives a databurst in response. It acknowledges and breaks the connection.

Slowly, carefully picking apart the databurst, it's a disaster. The gunship's contract status is "Retrieve: Suspended Due to Neutral Party Access Denial, Escalation Out of Contracted Parameters". The client ID is Mensah's, and the same as from MB's contract, which means this is likely still part of the same bond agreement. The gunship was likely denied docking thanks to GrayCris's local connections.

Worse, the status includes "Secondary Clients Status: Recognizance", which means other clients from the contract have left company protection parameters. Pin-Lee, Ratthi, and Gurathin were not in the group that returned to Preservation, and it could include any or all of them. They likely took a shuttle and docked privately.

When its transport finally docks, MB disembarks with a crowd of 43 people who were traveling together, hiding in plain sight.

Security is tight, though, and it has to deflect a lot of weapons and recognition scans. There are two companies who have SecUnits available for rental, neither its ex-company, and more security companies that might have their own stock to deploy. But, it's not too worried about anyone deploying SecUnits on transit rings, as they'd cause too much damage. It puts the odds at 15% at best.(5) And even then, they'd have to find it.

Still, my human skin was prickling with nerves. The extra security seemed to support a theory I had. Or maybe I mean a hypothesis. Whatever, the idea was that if Bharadwaj’s statement in the newsburst had been a message to GrayCris, a sign that Preservation would cooperate to save Dr. Mensah, then the stories about Mensah being arrested, about her going to or somehow being taken to TranRollinHyfa were messages, too. Messages to me.

MB thinks GrayCris might be trying to lure it here, to TRH. It doesn't know why they'd want it,(6) when they already have Mensah, but it does mean that MB has to secure an exit before it gets in too deep. It pulls all the specs from security feeds it's picked up on its walk, and tags them to examine later.

Browsing a shop as cover, MB does some more digging, and finds a single shuttle with a company ID code in dock. It feels weird, having familiar humans so close. It matches the shuttle's berth to a hotel log. It needs intel, and they're its best available source. It leaves the shop, making sure to do a performative loop of the offerings, and heads off to meet some old friends.

=====

(1) There's a long aside about identity markers and how the Corporate Rim tracks citizens, sub-citizens, and visitors from outside the rim, and how MB has serial numbers on bits it will never get rid of. I feel like it distracts from the plot, despite being very interesting information, so I'm discussing it down here instead. Take that, organizationally focused brainmeat! But really, it is rather interesting how it compares humans being able to cut their IDs out of them, to its serial numbers. It's a bit heavy-handed, but the serf class do have so much less freedom than the "people" classes, particularly freedom of movement, which is the most relevant here. (2) Given that the statement about investigating Milu was done publicly, I wouldn't be so sure Mensah didn't intend for Murderbot to get the message, despite not having any sort of email or contact address. (3) OOFA! A little warning next time you wanna sucker punch me like that, Murderbot/Wells. (I'm just kidding, never stop.) (4) I really find it fascinating that MB never says the company's name. Any generic reference to a company is its ex-company, unless it's very specifically being general in context about companies. It won't tell us what the logo is, only that it's etched into its bones. It's a fascinating way of dealing with the implication of the trauma of having been owned. (5) Do you know what they say about million to one chances, Murderbot? (6) I expect they think MB might have more evidence on it, and they want every loose end tied off.

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[c-alliecooper]

𝒞𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝒞𝑜𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓇

Pronouns: She/Her Birthday: 28th April 1990 (27) Species: Human Alliance: Good - Resistance (Institute 2.0) Location: Inside the dome - underground

So What Happened?

Right up until the last moment, Callie Cooper had kept her secret identity as the Institute's top Tech Analyst under wraps. She'd been calm, cool and collected, and then it happened: CODE BLACK. Callie, like most, was minding her own business on Founders day when she received an alert to her phone. What was the 'code black', you might ask? System shut down. But not just at HQ, at every Institute facility around the globe.

While she was juggling this major frickin' disaster, trying to get comms back up or get a damn visual on WTF was happening, the Originals decided to descend. It was all happening too fast, too soon and too at the same time. Callie thought they had been prepared. She was wrong. Things quickly escalated and the cat was well and truly out of the bag in Havensdale.

Soon after D-Day, Callie joined up with the 'Institute 2.0' within the underground Resistance because of course she did! They were her family. Her agents. She got to work right away, setting up underground and began re-tracking the scattered Institute agents. She worked to regain access to her files, she worked to fight against the Bad GuysTM. She has a pretty sweet set up in the underground with her chair, her recovered equipment and snacks.

#Resistance all the way, baby! They will see the sun again! She is an expert at gathering intel, finding creative fixes and hacking your whole soul. She’s also been working on a way to get a message out to all Institute members with some old school tech and a lotta faith (in herself).

Also one of the resident experts on all things InstituteTM, including their tips and tricks. And chips (looking at you Charlie Emerson). The idea of chipping Edward was workshopped, but was ultimately shot down for being too risky. They’d never get close enough.

Ever since Isabel Valentine came to her for help (also getting Isabel involved in the underground Resistance), Callie has been super worried about whatever happened to Christian Cooper. She's trying to science a way out of it for him, but magic is a fickle thing to fight. Generally, endlessly, she's worried about her family (especially Cameron Cooper) as these Dome days go on.

From her chair, Callie has been keeping eyes on Havensdale-- she is #BigSister, the all-seeing eye, looped into every camera in town. Callie is the invisible hand that helps whenever possible. And yes, she’s definitely seen Joey/Rachel/Keith/Robyn doing their wild, vigilante shit (jfc) and helped out from afar. From this she also knows all the daily drama, with her #1 priority being keeping an eye on Cam.

Seriously missing having her fave agent in her ear... And still actively investigating how the hell the Institutes all crumbled. She's been suspicious of the supposedly dead Colonel Q since finding traces of code from an old rival in the scraps from HQ, but she doesn't have the evidence to speak up just yet. Needless to say, there really is something going on every dang day!

For the past year, she's been dating Blake Huang and it has yet to get old swooning over him to anyone who will listen. Honestly, being stuck underground and not having to go anywhere has done wonders for Callie. The situation is terrible, of course, but she was made for this life.

Wanted Connections

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