#It is just the nature of these things that a decade after the release people who worked on the original may have left to work elsewhere

[shinysamurott9]

Y'know, in all the hype for Xenoblade X DE, one thing I've been thinking about is how amazing this must feel for the people at monolith, specifically the ones who worked on the original game.

The Wii U version was fantastic but was heavily trimmed down from what was initailly planned. The thing about that is a lot of the new stuff we saw in that trailer is cut content that was either shown in the original game but not delved into or stuff we know about because of the artbook. The new skell Hresvelg, the Ghosts, the new floating area, Neilnail and her twin skells, Elma's partner and the original ares, all of it.

I can't imagine how it must feel for the people at monolithsoft who were there working on the original game, knowing how much it had to be trimmed down, now getting the chance to not only revisit the game and add back in that cut content bringing the game far closer to the original vision, but also having a decade worth of player feedback to look at to, hopefully at least, make the game even better than it's original vision.

I imagine some stuff like the improved font and UI and the built in Overdrive guide were at least partially out of necessity to make the game work better from a design standpoint on Switch, but you cannot tell me they aren't at least aware of common fan criticisms when they specifically chose to draw attention to something as otherwise mundane as a Flight Module Skell jumping. Like come on they know.

[latenightdaydreams]

Alright hear me out

König and insecure reader; like he is head over heels puppy dog following them around and the reader is like “ofc he doesn’t like me we’re just friends” bc of insecurity

And and then he makes very soft advances which turns into a soft session on the couch during like a movie night 😔🙏

I'M OBSESSED WITH THIS PLOT

König x BestFriend!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, fluff, oral, p in v, insecurity

1.8k word count

🛋️

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The second König met you; it was as if he found his soul mate. Normally people fear him due to his height, but you never even mentioned it. You both met freshman year in high school at a welcoming event. In the corner of the gymnasium, you simply walked up to König and began to speak to him as if you knew him. He just gazed down at you, studying your face and realizing he was falling in love. You’ve been inseparable ever since.

 A decade later and you're now both in your early twenties and still see each other every day. Even for simple things like grocery trips. You both walk close together as he listens to you talk about your day at work. He holds the basket for you as he always does, his pale blue eyes gazing down at you with a certain sparkle in them.

“Do you want to get some snacks? Maybe we can watch a movie after we unload everything?” He rubs your arm gently as he waits for your response.

“Uh, yeah.”

You can’t help but to smile bashfully up at him. He touches you as if you’re the most delicate thing in the world and it makes you feel calm; at home. In an attempt to detach yourself for the feeling you look away and step forward, grabbing a bag of candy.

König’s eyes follow you as you step forward, his hand lingering in the air for a moment as he debates reaching out for you again. Knowing that you aren’t the most comfortable with physical affection, he decides against it. Your skin is so soft that the feeling lingers on the tips of his fingers. His eyes trail down your body as you have your back to him, you’re so perfect.

When you turn back around König stands there with a big smile on his face, making you smirk. “What?”

“Nothing, Maus. Let’s check out and hurry home.” König held his arm out for you to hold as you both walked back, you accept. 

One thing consumes König’s mind. You. As he drives you both back to your apartment his mind is racing with different thoughts of how he would love to express to you how much he loves you, how beautiful your body is. There is no easy way to do this; he either gets the love of his life or he loses you forever.

Back at your apartment König helps you unload your groceries before he heads to your living room to begin looking for a movie while you went to your room to change. Feeling self-conscious, you put on a pair of black leggings and a baggy shirt in an attempt to hide your body. The way your stomach looks when you sit makes you uncomfortable.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by König. His eyes trace down your body, still able to see some of your stunning shape, but he’s upset that you treat your body as if it’s bad. If only you could read König’s thoughts, then you’d never lack confidence again.

“Come, sit.” König pats the seat next to him.

When you sit, he scoots a little closer and rests his arm across your shoulders. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” You say softly.

König presses play and the opening credits for a recently released horror movie begins to play. You feel your body naturally relaxing into his, the warmth from his body is welcoming. His hand pulls you into him more, wanting you even closer.

“You can relax.” He says with a light hearted giggle.

You smirk and adjust the way you’re sitting so that you’re cuddling his body. One of your hands rests on his stomach feeling his solid body and gently moving your fingers in a soft pattern. He lets out a pleased hum as his hand rubs your arm.

“You smell so good, Maus.” König whispers as he leans in to smell the top of your head before planting a soft kiss.

You can help but to feel your face heat up but you keep your eyes on the movie and ignore his kiss. It’s just a friendly gesture. Then he kisses you again and his hand moves from your arm to your waist. Instantly you can feel your heart sink, as his fingers gently rub back and forth on your stomach. You don’t want him to be disgusted.

König isn’t. He loves your stomach, he loves to touch it. He would plant a million kisses across it until you’re convinced that you’re truly beautiful.

A few minutes pass before his fingers gently graze the hem of your shirt before slipping under. His warm fingers leave a trail of arousal in their wake. Your muscles tense feeling his surprising touch. You swallow hard, but say nothing; only encouraging König to go further.

“You feel so soft…” He whispers as his palm spreads out across your abdomen.

You raise your head from his chest and look up into his blue eyes. His lips and pull back into a warm smile as he studies your face for a moment. At this moment, he’s unsure if he should just kiss you or…

König’s other hand comes up and cups your jaw, tilting your head up more. Without hesitation he leans in and presses his lips against yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you return the kiss. It’s a timid kiss at first, as if the both of you can’t believe it’s finally happening.

When you pull away König only leans in more, he isn’t ready for the kiss to end yet. He breathes you in, the taste of your lips is overwhelmingly sweet. His hand on your stomach slips up towards your breasts, squeezing one through the cup.

“Come here.” König whispers when he pulls away from you.

As if you weight nothing, König effortlessly moves your body so that you’re laying down on your back. You gaze up at him as his eyes stay glued to your body. He slowly lifts your shirt up, exposing your light-colored bra and the supple flesh of your abdomen. His eyes trail down to the waistband of your leggings before meeting your gaze again.

“You’re so beautiful. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” König says as he lowers his head to place lingering kisses down your chest and stomach.

König gently slips his hands up your back to unhook your bra, his eyes widening slightly when he finally sees your breasts. They’re perfect. His mouth instantly latches to your nipple, his other hand groping and squeezing the other breast. You close your eyes and let out a small moan, allowing yourself to relish in the moment with König.

König sits back and pulls his shirt off, tossing it aside. It’s not the first time you’ve seen his body, but this time feels so much different. Your eyes look up and down, taking in every detail of his pale skin. When his hands reach for your waist-band you put your hand on his, stopping him.

“Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” König’s pale blue eyes now darkened by how dilated his pupils are.

“What if you… don’t like it.”

König looks at you so confused. His eyes drop and trail over your body again, tugging slightly at your leggings to reveal more of your lower stomach and hips. He drops his head and begins to kiss along the edge, causing your body to tense with pleasure. Your fingers comb through his blond hair as you watch him.

“I love every inch of you. Everything about you. I always have.” König says as he pulls your leggings down alone with your underwear. His eyes trail over the beautiful mound between your legs and down your thick thighs. He takes his time pulling your leggings completely off of your legs.

You shiver as you feel his warm breath waft across the sensitive flesh of your thighs. Propped up on your elbows, you look down at him with a nervous yet excited look in your eyes as he parts your thighs. His lips continue with their trail of kisses back and forth between your inner thighs. The smell of your arousal is strong and consuming König’s senses; all he can think of is the fact he finally gets to taste you.

König’s eyes meet yours for a quick second before looking back between your legs. There is a pearly white bead of your arousal lingering between your lips, teasing his tongue. His head lowers and he flicks his tongue out, slipping between your folds. A moan leaves his lips as his eyes close for a moment, you taste divine. He buries his face in between your legs, his tongue desperately licking over your sensitive little clit; sucking on it slightly.

“Oh god, König.” You moan breathlessly.

“Maus, you’re perfect.” König says as he gasps for air coming back up.

He moves his hands from your thighs to his pants so he can undo them, eager to finally feel your wrapped around his aching cock. His tongue slips down and swirls around the entrance of your tight cunt before pulling away. Your eyes follow him as he stands to fully undress. When you see his cock for the first time your jaw drops. He is absolutely massive.

König smirks, looking at your face as you take him in. He adjusts his body to loom over yours, fitting between your legs. There is a moment where you both simply look into each other’s eyes, no words needed to express the mutual love between the both of you. His hands run from your breasts down to your legs.

The tip of his cock presses against you, König doesn’t break eye contact wanting to see your expression when you feel him for the first time. He thrust forward softly, his fat cock spreading your lips as he buries himself deep inside of you. Your eyes flutter shut as a loud pathetic mewl leaves your lips.

“Look at me, Liebling. Please don’t close those eyes.”

König speaks with a strained voice as he gently rocks his hips. The feeling of your tight wet pussy is almost enough to make him cum with barely any friction. His eyes are locked on to yours, the expressions of passion in them sends a shiver down his spine. He leans forward, resting slightly on your body as he begins to thrust into you more passionately. König’s lips press against yours leaving sloppy absentminded kisses on your neck as his moans mix with yours.

“Ich liebe dich, Maus.” König moans. “So much.”

The movie fades into the background, neither one of you even aware of what the plot is at this point. Sounds of orgasmic pleasure and bodies clashing drowns out all other sounds. It’s just you and König. The way it was always meant to be.

[thewonandonly]

BE MY MISTAKE

PLAYLIST : spotify

PAIRING : ghostface!lee jeno (nct) x afab!reader

GENRE : horror/thriller(?), fluff, smut, angst (hurtfic)

SYNOPSIS : "happy halloween! time to play one giant insensitive prank on you like the popular movie franchise "stab!" lol it'll be funny dw"

WC : 12,670 words

WARNINGS : heavily based on the scream franchise. established relationship, strong language, jeno = billy and reader = sydney essentially, jeno and reader have sexy time with the mask on, oral (f. receiving), p-in-v sex, cunnilingus, dirty talk, um premeditation 😀, no happy ending. guys this is literally about a (fictional) murderer. there is a chasing scene. think scary movie 1 in the theater but more, like, serious.

AUTHOR'S NOTE : happy october :3 when you really think about it, isn't halloween time everyday? here's something i actually worked on bc im insane. also, there's a bit of an inconsistency with the writing; i said jeno already got tickets but obvi theyre seeing it at the theater party. i was already 3/4 of the way done writing it when i remembered so pls just ignore it plsplspls i beg. as always, please let me know if i forgot any warnings <3

DISCLAIMER : the characters in this story are to be allusions to real people, and none of the situations, personalities, and actions found here should reflect reality. i do not believe in any of the problematic actions displayed and mentioned. this story was created with zero intention to violate the images of the artists.

It was October, which meant another "Stab!" movie was going to be released within due time, which also meant, everyone was going to harp on about the events that happened last year; that happen every year. The "Stab!" movies that got rereleased in theaters every year for a week were really... not all that good, in your (unprofessional) opinion. They were poorly made "based-on-a-true-story" movies that influenced a worldwide prank across the world that caused a lot of actual real world deaths and trauma. But, your boyfriend, a film student, thought it was one of the best movies ever made! You remember you both started dating around this time almost three years ago and seeing the rerelease of the 1997 slasher film was quite unexpected. You didn't even know it existed until that time, when Jeno, your boyfriend, excitedly asked you out on that first date to see it.

You could remember your boyfriend shoveling buckets and tubs of popcorn into his mouth as you could barely stomach the thought of Sidney Prescott being harassed for years, decades. Your own judgement was being questioned that night and you ignored it.

Sitting at your laptop in the library, you let out a deep and long sigh as you stared at the blank word document. Given it was October and you were a criminal history student, it was only natural that you were given the assignment on criminal offenses that happened during the Halloween season. And of course, the first thing that popped up into your head was the Woodsboro Murders, after all the rewatches over the last year. The tabs open on your computer about the crime significantly slowed down your laptop that you were willing to opt for the books that rested on the library shelves.

And if it wasn't the cherry on top of your already obnoxious day, your computer crashed. Meaning, browsing the aisles for any information about your subject and writing the information down the classic "pen-to-paper" way was the only way you were going to get your work done, which was probably a blessing in disguise, considering you knew how easily you could get distracted.

You dropped your head to your hands, letting out a sigh before you lifted your head, your laptop slamming shut.

"I wanna play a game." Your boyfriend spoke in a sinister voice as he looked at you, holding a Billy the Puppet mask from the Saw films over his face, before he pulled it down to smile at you.

You sighed again, packing up the laptop, "Not funny." You grumbled.

Jeno laughed, turning his wrist to look at the mask, "What? Who doesn't love Billy the Puppet?"

You glanced at Jeno through your lashes and zipped up the bag you had, before walking over to the Windows Vista desktop your university refused to update and searched up your keyword: "Woodsboro." And you hoped your boyfriend wouldn't peek over your shoulder and-

"Woodsboro?" He perked up and looked at your face, "Are you studying about it?" He began to overload you with questions; "Why are you studying it?" or "How far are you along?" or "Can I help you with whatever you're studying this for?"

You couldn't blame him, you really couldn't. He was like a puppy who just found a stick in the yard. You knew that if you even slightly mentioned "Stab!" or the murders, you'd have to deal with your boyfriend bouncing off the walls. You were surprised he never decided to join your criminal history class, purely based on the fact he was the most knowledgeable person about the subject that you knew.

You looked at the top three recommended books, and erased the search from the results, wandering down to the section of the library. Jeno followed close behind. "It's for my criminal history class." Was all you said.

"I can help you!" He chuckled.

You stopped right at the final section pulling out the book titled "The Woodboro Murders" by Gale Weathers. It was a best seller, apparently, if the bright red font at the top of the book wasn't enough to tell you that. You held it in your arm before you pulled the second book out and placed in on top of the other. "Jeno, I know you're excited to help but it's history. This isn't some trashy movie about slashers."

Jeno winced as you criticized his favorite movie, holding his hand to his chest, "Come on, baby, you know I know better than anyone about this stuff." He smiled, "I can help you. I don't know just the trashy horror movie stuff. I know the psychology and the science behind it."

You attempted to walk away, but Jeno quickly pulled you back to smile at you, the Billy the Puppet mask still lingering in his hand.

Jeno was always handsome, and he knew it too. If there wasn't multiple times he was able to win you over with just his looks, you'd be lying. So, when he looks at you with his soft smile, and his soft eyes, you begin to fall all over again. You take in his features; the mole that sits under his right eye, his nose, how beautiful his eyes looked.

Fuck, you swore to yourself, here we go again. "Fine, you can help me." You almost grumbled. Almost. "But, I'm not using the movie as a source." You pointed at him, "Everything we include has to be in any of these books or reliable sources on the internet."

Jeno held his hands up once more, chuckling, "I got it. I got it. Consider the existence of Stab completely erased from my mind from this moment forward."

"Good." You continued down the middle of the book shelves, grabbing another book, your boyfriend following close behind, his hands brushing against the spine of the books.

Jeno perked up, "Hey, we've got a few days before our anniversary. I was thinking we could go see that rerelease on the day of."

You glanced at him once more, "I really need to keep a counter of how often you mention that movie."

As much as you hated the movie, and it's effects after the release, it was like you were reliving your first date with him. Last year, you guys went to the same theater, ordered the same snacks — a large popcorn with extra butter, gummy candy and one large soda you both shared — and you both were lucky to get the same exact seats as your first date. And you hoped that you could relive that day over and over again.

You glanced at Jeno, tilting your head to the side, "You already have the tickets, huh?" You asked.

"Yup." Jeno rummaged through his pockets and pulled out the tickets to show you, throwing his arm over your shoulder, "Same auditorium; same seats."

You smiled to yourself. Sure, he could tick you off mentioning "Stab!" ten to twelve times a day, but... you loved him. He was your boyfriend. And the attention to detail he always had was admirable.

You pecked his cheek, making his smile grow even wider, feeling your chest tighten as you admired his features silently once again, holding the books in your arm as you ran your fingers through his hair.

He was annoying, but he was also sweet. And he was all your own.

After a long and grueling study session, cramped hands, and an overwhelming amount of information that you weren't even aware of, it was now officially 8pm, and the university library was closing for the night, the librarian grabbing the books off your desk to add to the cart of growing stock. Despite Jeno's promise, he continued to cross reference "Stab!" while he read pieces from Gale Weathers' book. You swore, you couldn't get through a paragraph before your boyfriend said, "I remember that in the movie."

The sheet of paper that held your precious grade was zipped up into your bag, kept nice and neat in between your laptop and your textbook. Jeno held your hand as he walked you through the dark sidewalk down the University Road, where your shared apartment was located. Jeno and you have lived together since the second semester started in the last week of August.

The co-ed dorm you two lived in was fairly small — one floor and only 17 dorm rooms. It also happened to be the first place you met Jeno. Jeno originally stayed in the dorm room across from your own, which is the current one you both stayed in now. You remember him peeking out of his dorm room door with nothing on but a pair of grey sweatpants, shouting something at his friends as they ran down the hallway. You later found out they were his dorm mates — Mark and Donghyuck. When you stepped into the room, the striking contrast between the two sides of the room was nauseating. Jeno had action figures, replicas and movie posters decorating his side; something every movie buff held proud. Your side was almost empty. You barely had any decorations on the wall and the only decorated area was your desk. It wasn't much, but it was home, at least for now.

When the door to the room opened, you let out a sigh, kicking off your shoes and dropping your bag on the couch, you fell onto your tiny dorm bed. "Finally, nap time." You mumble.

Jeno set his own items down and sighed, "You should relax for now and then we'll pick up where we left off."

You had a routine of coming home from either work or school; kick off shoes, set stuff down, nap. It was the same every single day. Jeno had a very opposite routine. He always kept his slippers on, he neatly placed his items beside his desk and then he sat down, and watched a movie off his scratch away chart of the one hundred highest rated movies of all time.

Yet, today, he seemed to be in a different mood. He hung up the Billy the Puppet mask next to the plethora of other horror movie icons, before his hand brushed along his prized possession, the killer from the Woodsboro murders. It was a little odd that his favorite mask would be one from actual real life cases, but you know it wasn't because of that. It was because of "Stab!" but, you know if you try to explain that to someone, they'd just give you a dirty look and silently judge you, or more rather, your boyfriend. Maybe a little bit of you, as well, for trying so hard to defend your boyfriend.

Grabbing the mask of the infamous double killers, Jeno pulled it over his head, looking at you through the mesh eyeholes, crawling his way across the impromptu king bed, leaning close over your shoulder as you laid on your stomach. The smooth pvc plastic and the polyester fiber brushed against your skin, and you turned your head to look at him. "What do you think you're doing?" You asked with a bite.

Jeno shrugged, "I don't know. Aren't girls into this type of stuff?" He whispered through the mask, slowly lifting it over his head to look at you, "I thought girls were into the, like, masked guys and shit."

You scoffed, laying on your hand, "Some girls. And I don't think it's actual killers they're into."

Jeno shrugged, pulling the mask down once more, running his hands against your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing against your shoulder blades, "I don't know. I've seen some people into some pretty messed up guys."

You rolled your eyes again, "Some people are into that stuff." You shrugged, turning your head to the side as he ran his hands over your skin, "Fuck, I don't know, Jen. I hardly even know if I like my school major."

"Fine, fine." He scoffed, "But you don't even wanna try it with the mask on once?"

You rolled your eyes, "Take the mask off, Jeno."

Jeno sighed, pulling the mask off before tossing it to his side of the makeshift bed, "You don't even wanna spice up our sex life a little bit?"

You rolled over so you were on your back, his legs straddling your hips in some type of sick power play. He looks amazing up there, you thought. Your fingers traced the curve of his thighs, "I think our sex life is perfectly fine, if you ask me." You shrugged playfully, "Maybe some other time?"

Jeno groaned, "You're ruining this marriage." He responded sarcastically, "It's someone else, isn't it?" He crossed his arms.

"Yes, oh, my god, I completely forgot I was having sex with your manager from the theater." You gasped.

"With Jaehyun?" Jeon gasped, "I don't blame you. How'd you pull him?" Much to your dismay, he climbed off from on top of you, laying his head on your shoulder as you both laid down.

You shrugged, "You know, same way I pulled you."

Jeno rolled his eyes, "Okay, quit it. I'm actually starting to think you're fucking Jaehyun." He grumbled, "Speaking of Jaehyun, the Halloween Party. Are we going or what?"

"Yeah, sure. We have nothing else going on." You sighed, "I'd much rather go to a Halloween party at the theater than here at one of the sororities or frats." You rolled onto your side so you were facing Jeno, smiling sweetly.

"Sounds like a plan to me." He gave a dorky smile, "We could probably even skip the date night and just go to the party."

"You don't wanna see the movie?" You mumbled, "Wait, let me guess..." You cleared your throat, putting on your best "Jeno" voice, "They're actually showing Stab for the party, oh my god!"

"I don't sound like that."

"Um, actually, you do." You teased, nudging his shoulder. "Did I get it right?"

Jeno chuckled, shrugging, "It's the theatre's most popular re-releases. So, for them to close down early just so we can watch the movie for a party is pretty amazing." He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, "Plus, Halloween is our anniversary. It can be a two-in-one celebration."

"I guess you're right." You mumbled, "Pretty amazing." You repeated, fighting back a yawn, "I'm sleepy." You whispered as you curled up close to Jeno, smiling to yourself as you feel him cup the back of your knee to bring your leg over his hip.

His fingers brushed against the skin of your cheek, laying his head on top of yours, something he normally did when you'd nap so you had complete darkness, "Go to sleep, babe. I'll be here when you wake up." He whispered in your ear, barely above a whisper.

Your heart fluttered at his soft voice, feeling yourself already starting to drift to sleep, relishing in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin, his other hand pinned against the bed as it was wrapped around your back and placed on your hip. While you pinned his arm down to keep him from moving, he had your head pinned down with his own. It was your preferred cuddling position; your own pretzel twist.

You woke up hours after you had fell asleep to a loud clatter from the window behind you. Jeno was no where to be seen, and you immediately tensed up at the sound. Laying perfectly still as if you were still sleeping, you didn't dare attempt to put your life on the line.

Oh, god, you thought, is this really happening right now? Your mind began to race with a million different thoughts, "I don't wanna end up on Cold Case Files," and "I don't want to go out this way."

"Shit." You heard in a familiar voice, turning around to see your boyfriend climbing in through the window.

You sat up straight, "Jeno?" You called out through your gravely and sleepy voice, squinting your eyes as your boyfriend shined the flashlight from his phone in your eyes, your hand shooting up to block the light from your eyes, "What are you doing?"

Jeno pointed to the door, "Locked myself out." He grumbled, stumbling as he finished climbing through the window, quickly bending down as a metal jingling echoed between the two of you.

You just glanced as Jeno quickly shoved the keys into his sweater pocket, too tired to care, "Hm..." You hummed as you laid back, "If you went out with Mark and Jaemin, I don't mind." You sighed.

Jeno chuckled as he made his way around the room to set down his items, "Heh, you caught me." He rubbed his neck, climbing into the bed beside you once more, "I snuck out an hour and a half ago to go out and eat."

You could tell he was just as tired as you were a few hours ago, but he was forcing himself awake, "What'd you guys eat?"

"Meat." Jeno shrugged, "Nothing exciting. You know those two." He buried his face further into the pillow, his eyes closing, "Did you sleep well, baby?"

You nodded, "Yeah." It's all you said, reaching your hand up to brush some of his hair from his eyes, your thumb brushing against his cheek, "As much as I'd love to stay here and cuddle, I should get that paper done."

Jeno hummed, peeking an eye open, "Did you want any help?"

Your heart warmed at the question; not because he asked, because he was willing to help you even though he was tired, "No," You whispered softly as you took into consideration his restlessness, shaking your head, "No, baby. Just rest. I can handle it." You placed a chaste kiss to his neck, slowly sitting up. You grabbed a plush blanket to wrap around your shoulders, making your way to your desk as you pushed yourself off the bed.

This was normally how you and Jeno both functioned; one was awake at the crack of dawn and asleep by 9pm, the other was asleep until noon and up until 3 in the morning. It's a miracle that the two of you found a way to be with one another.

Sitting at your desk, pulling out your Holy Grail of a assignment and set it neatly on the top, opening your laptop to look at the screen as you slowly booted it up. Seemed to be running fine, so you decided it should be okay to use, even if you had to keep it plugged in. The previous document saved just how you left it — empty and barren. You didn't even have a sentence on the screen.

Maybe technology wasn't the right move for schoolwork, you thought to yourself as you compared the two forms of documentation. The sheet of paper was a little more than halfway filled, and although the pen ink smudged from your hand swiping across the paper, it still looked pretty damn good. Compared to the digital sister, the paper seemed like the one who had everything all together.

You decided to pick up where you left off on the sheet of paper, using your laptop for music and the pdf of the books you used earlier open on each tab.

You looked up from the paper, squinting your eyes as you looked at the laptop screen, highlighting the words with the cursor.

"That's interesting." You titled your head to the side, reading the line of text in your head.

"Sydney Prescott was unaware at the moment, but she noticed when the killer attacked, her boyfriend, Billy Loomis, and his best friend, Stuart "Stu" Macher were no where to be seen."

The line made you uncomfortable, shifting in your seat at the thought, clearing your throat as you read the line over and over again. Gale Weathers then goes on to describe how significant it is that Sydney Prescott should've realized, but then again, you sympathized with Sydney. After all, she loved Billy.

God forbid Jeno did something like that, you'd probably have to be thrown into an asylum.

You decided procrastination was the best option for the evening, using the pen as a paperweight and closed the laptop screen. You stood up from the desk and sighed, scooting over to the bed before laying down beside the sleeping Jeno.

Despite your previous nap, you laid your head down on the pillow and felt yourself falling asleep.

That evening, you thought about Jeno and your upcoming date night/Halloween party. You opened your eyes through the night, glancing over to check on your boyfriend, going as far to adjust the blanket over his shoulder and brush hair from his eyes to just make sure it wasn't an illusion.

God, you just wished he wasn't a maniac like Billy Loomis.

Despite your best efforts to go to bed at an early time, you tossed and turned, you shivered, your legs grew restless. And then the sun peeked in through your window, and you only glared. 7 in the morning and you were awake even before your boyfriend. Your eyes burned from the lack of sleep and you couldn't help yourself but to curse the sun as it extended across the skyline. You sat up slowly from the bed, looking wistfully out the window of your dorm room, the blanket covering your legs.

The thoughts you had in the back of your mind from a few hours before still lingered in your head, because it's entirely possible for something like that to happen. It's entirely possible for a significant other to go off the bend and be a crazed murderer. And it's entirely possible that it can be the person you share a bed with.

You sighed softly as you pushed the thought away and stood from the bed, the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You trudged along to the bathroom inside your dorm room, shutting the door behind you as you looked into the mirror. The eyebags were a dark grey, your eyes blood shot and your eyelids hung low. You looked like death to put it simply, and you felt it.

Turning on the sink and grabbing your toothbrush, you squeezed a glob of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and began to brush your teeth. Although, you were sure you weren't really brushing as you felt your eyes struggle to open every time you blinked, your grip on the brush weakening every time your eyes weighed closed.

The bathroom door opened and Jeno stepped inside, placing a kiss on the side of your head, "Morning, baby." He whispered, grabbing his own toothbrush, "Stayed up all night again?"

You looked at him through the mirror, shaking your head before rinsing out your mouth, "No." You mumbled, clearly half asleep, "I was, like, half asleep, half awake the whole night."

Jeno chuckled, brushing his teeth, "You get anything else done on the paper?"

"Yeah, I got a lot done." You nodded, setting the toothbrush back in the drawer you kept it in, stepping off to the side, "There was a lot I learned."

"It's interesting, right?" He spit out a glob of toothpaste, scraping his tongue before starting to brush his teeth once more, leaning on his hand against the bathroom counter.

"Yeah. I didn't know it was that complex..." You mumbled, "Do you have work today?"

Jeno rinsed out his mouth, sighing, "Yeah, baby, I do." He placed his toothbrush next to yours, looking at you with a faux pout, "Unfortunately."

You nodded, pressing a small kiss to his lips, "Well, I'll be here when you get off." You grabbed his hands, squeezing them, "You should probably get ready to go."

Jeno chuckled, kissing your lips again, "You want me to go that badly?" He teased, "You inviting Jaehyun over or something?"

You laughed, "No. Just don't want you to be late."

Jeno's hands rested on your hips, smiling, "Don't worry about that." He kissed you again, lifting you in his arms to sit you on the bathroom counter, his hands brushing against your thighs, "I have plenty of time."

You pulled away from the kiss, smiling, "Do you though? You still have to shower, get dressed, and put gas in the car. Or were you just gonna make me pay for it again?" You teased, climbing off the counter, "Take your shower." You stepped out the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

Jeno wasn't always the most punctual, which can be frustrating to you and to his co-workers. You wouldn't necessarily blame him, but you would blame his distractions. He has a lot on his plate; school, work, your relationship. He still needed to purchase a camera for his film class. He tries to act like it doesn't bother him, but you know on nights where he stays up a little later than usual, he's dwelling on it.

You sat down at your desk, trying to distract yourself from the exhaustion you felt by watching youtube videos your professor recommended and switching between that and writing your paper. Jeno stepped out from the bathroom and you felt the heat from the shower push into the room, and you smelt his conditioner in the air as he quickly got dressed for work.

"I'll be back later, baby." He pressed a kiss to your cheek, "Don't wait up, alright? Take a nap or something." He ran his fingers through your hair, and you turned to look at him.

"I hope you have a good day at work." You kissed his lips, smiling softly as he turned to walk out the door, "Why do you have that mask with you?"

Jeno paused, turning to look at his bag, "Chenle doesn't think it's an actual replica, so he said he wants to check it out on our break." He sighed, pushing his hair back with his hand, "I'll see you later baby." He smiled, stepping out the door and closed it behind him.

"Okay." You whispered, listening as his keys made a metallic sound down the hallway and the hydraulic door hinge squeaking as it closed shut.

Ever since last night, you actually sat down and read Gale Weathers' book, collecting the information from her eyes. Sure, she had a pretty shallow standpoint from it; This wasn't her trauma to write about. But, it was still pretty interesting as she pieced things together.

You were at least 5 chapters in, hunched over your laptop as you read, anxiously nibbling on your nails as Gale describes the beginning of the stressful months that were ready to approach them. Until, your phone rings. Of course it rings. First time you've actually read a book instead of skimmed the pages in months. You unlocked your phone, answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N, it's Jaehyun." You could hear the popcorn machine popping behind him, "Jeno's manager from the cinema."

You chuckled, "I know who you are." You smiled to yourself, wondering if Jaehyun even knew the running joke that you and your boyfriend had; prevailing him as a God, "What's up, Jaehyun?"

"Well, Jeno's running a bit late. It's nearly been an hour and I haven't gotten a call or a text or anything from him." Jaehyun's voice shrunk, "Is he there?"

"No, no, he left a while ago. I thought he was heading to work." You put Jaehyun on speaker phone, immediately clicking the Find My app, scrolling to find Jeno, "I'm looking at his location right now and it says no location found." You mumbled.

"Alright, well, I'll try to give him a call or two. You should try, too. He might have had something happen to the car." Jaehyun spoke, "Just let me know. You have my number, right?"

"Yeah, I do." You mumbled, "I'll call him right now and let you know what's up." You quickly hung up and called your boyfriend.

Okay, he had awful sense of time and he wasn't punctual in the slightest but he's never been this late to work, especially when it helps him pay his bills and pay for that new camera he needed. You pressed the phone to your ear before it immediately was sent to voicemail with the automated voice telling you what you already knew: The number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time.

Seriously? You scratched the back of your head, setting your laptop to the side as you leaned against your elbows. There was one way to find him, something that he never left the dorm without.

You opened the Find My app once more, and scrolled to his AirPods. Or more rather, your AirPods that he's borrowed more than you used after you got them. If he opened them recently, you would've been able to find where exactly he was. So you did just that.

But, much to your dismay, he hasn't opened them since the night before, his location still reading as the restaurant he went to last night with Mark and Jaemin.

You called Jaehyun back, "He didn't answer the phone and I tried to see if I could see where he was from the AirPods he used, but no use."

Jaehyun sighed, "Alright, thank you, Y/N." He mumbled, "I hope he'll be able to get off the hook for this. He better have a damn good excuse."

"I hope he does." You whispered, "Sorry I wasn't much help, Jaehyun."

"Don't worry about it, Y/N. You did more work than I did." He gave a small "goodbye" and hung up the phone.

You really hoped he had an explanation for what's going on. You weren't the type of person to immediately jump to conclusions, saying that he cheated. You don't think he's stupid enough to pull something like that.

You sighed, laying your head down on the desk as you drowned in your thoughts, feeling the exhaustion take over your body as laid there.

There it was again. A clatter from the window being forcefully pulled up. You immediately perked up, the drowsiness from the nap you don't remember taking stuck to your body. Your back hurt from being hunched over the desk where you napped.

You leaned back in your chair to peek over at the window, ignoring your back begging for a little bit of leisure after you slept like a ball for the past 4 hours. It was a little after 11 o'clock, 18 minutes before it turned noon.

Standing from your desk, you approached the window and looked out the glass, shocked to find nothing, or no one. Just the dying bushes planted by the school's agricultural center, and some fucked up tanbark that kept the moisture in the dirt.

"Hey, baby."

You jumped, turning to find your boyfriend standing behind you with his prized possession covering his face. "Jesus christ, Jen." You swore, pushing at his shoulder, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Got sent home." He shrugged, lifting the mask from his face with a smile, "The car ended up breaking down, my phone died and I had to walk 4 miles down the road to get there.” He dropped his bag on the footboard bench at the end of the bed frame, setting the mask on top of it.

"Jen, you really gotta start going to work in time." You sighed, "What if you get fired?"

"Come on, baby, it's just a part-time job." He chuckled, pulling you closer to him, "I can find something else."

"Fuck, Jen, do you know how bad that'll look if they call the theater and they have to tell them you're unreliable for calling out or for showing up late?" You ranted, letting go of his hands, "You know I can't afford to pay for this dorm by myself, let alone my school payments."

"Jeez, babe, relax." He chuckled, "Come on, why don't you take some of that aggression out another way?"

"Jeno," You sighed.

"Y/N," He responded, "When's the last time you and I had nasty, angry sex, huh?" He chuckled, grabbing your hands again, "I miss you, baby." He whispered, pulling you into a tight hug, squeezing you.

You hated to admit you missed it, too. Especially when you were this annoyed with Jeno, you hated that this was turning you on, listening to him talk about it.

"Come on, baby." He whispered in your ear, guiding your hand to the bulge in his pants, "Seeing you all angry gets me worked up, baby, I can't help it."

"Jeno." You rubbed him through his pants, "Jen,"

"Hm?" He pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck, his hands brushing against your skin in a desperate attempt to soothe his thoughts.

"Please, baby, just listen to me for 3 seconds."

Jeno pulled away from kissing your neck, humming, "Okay, okay, I'm listening."

"Tomorrow, you're going into work and you're gonna be on time, with your phone charged and everything." You cupped his cheek, "I don't want you to lose your job because you're late."

"Okay, mistress." He teased, "You've have a little dominatrix hidden, don't you?" Jeno kissed at your cheeks, as he cupped them.

"Stop making it sexual."

He chuckled, "I can't help it, baby. I romanticize everything you do, babe." He whispered gently before he kissed you, sitting you down on the mattress of the bed, "It's cute seeing you act all tough and strict." He kissed at your skin, pressing you down against the mattress, straddling your hips.

His tongue brushed against your neck as he kissed you, his hands pushing your shirt over your head, letting your hands rest on his thighs.

Jeno pulled away from kissing at your neck, smiling down at you, "Do we have any condoms left?"

You sat up, looking at the bedside table, "Probably in the drawer."

Jeno crawled off of you to rummage through the drawer, clicking his tongue, "Damn." He mumbled, flitting through papers before he let out an exclamation, pulling out the foiled packaging from between the pages. "Got it."

"I knew you'd find it." You smiled, gasping as he pulled you closer to him on the edge of the bed by your ankles, watching him kneel down.

"Mmhmm," He hummed, pulling your bottoms down your legs, his lips kissing at your legs, "So pretty." He whispered, teasingly biting at your thigh, "Wanna taste you, baby."

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair, watching Jeno's finger tangle in the waistband of your panties.

"That okay, baby?" He whispered breathlessly, his lips swollen from kissing at your legs.

You nodded, "That's fine, baby."

Jeno smiled, pulling your bottoms and underwear down your legs, kissing up your legs, his lips hovering over your cunt and his breath fanning against your wetness, "Fuck, you're already wet, baby?" Jeno's thumb rubbed at your clit, licking his lips.

"Jen..."

Chuckling, Jeno smiled, flattening his tongue against your cunt, moaning lightly as you drooled against his tongue, "Fuck, baby..."

You moaned sharply, your fingers tightening on his hair, "Jeno..."

Jeno smiled, kissing at your pussy as he continued to lick at your clit, his fingers slowly pressing into your entrance, pumping his fingers into you, "So tight, baby. So sweet." He groans, "You're so perfect, princess."

You gasped as his fingers brushed against your gummy wall, curling his fingers as his lips kissed your hip, a weak moan escaping your throat.

Jeno listened to your moans as he continued to pump his fingers inside you, sucking your clit and tasting you on his tongue. How sweet you tasted, how your slick drooled from the length of his fingers to knuckles, and how amazing your gasps and moans sounded to his ears; Like music, a symphony. If he could listen to your sounds on repeat, he would, over and over and over. He couldn't get enough, he wanted more, wanted you.

Giving a teasing peck to your slit, Jeno kissed your hip, your stomach and up your body until he stopped at your neck, taking in your scent as he struggled to unbuckle the belt he wore with his work pants. "Little help?"

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair once more before you moved your hands down to unbuckle his belt, the echo of the buckle settling around you both, letting Jeno's lips meet your own in a desperate kiss, his tongue pushing between to rub against yours, a deep growl escaping his throat as your thumbs hooked around his bottoms, helplessly attempting to tug them down his legs. Parting from your lips, Jeno gave a breathy chuckle, his breath fanning against your face. He grabbed the condom he set down on the bedside table, keeping his eyes torn from your own for no less than a second.

Tearing it open with his teeth, Jeno gently pulled the rubber from the packaging, rolling it along his length, “Fuckin’ finally.” He whispered to himself, “I missed feeling you." He pressed kissed along your jawline, listening to the gasp leave your lips as he slowly pressed into you. "Shit, you feel so good." He whispered.

Jeno slowly started moving, and you've been thinking — actually thinking about something he mentioned that you couldn't possibly know if it was a joke or if he was serious. You dug your nails into his arm, “Wait.”

His hips immediately stilled, and he looked down at you, “You okay, baby?”

You cleared your throat shyly, “I’m fine, I just—”

“What is it?” He chuckled, brushing hair behind your ear, “You can tell me, princess.”

You couldn’t believe you were saying this, and you couldn’t even believe you were considering it. But, you can’t knock something until you try it, “I was thinking we could try it with… the mask on…” You love looking at Jeno when you were having sex. You love seeing his expressions, looking into his eyes as he was buried into you and you loved watching his brows furrow together as he gets closer to cumming. But, there was something alluring behind the idea of the mask. Almost like it was a mystery to how he’s feeling. It was sounding more exciting as every second passed. And, you could see just how excited Jeno was as he reached over to where he set the mask down, smiling at you as he pulled it on. Attempting to move, you rested your hand on his chest, “Ah, first, some ground rules.”

Jeno moved the mask to the side, his eye peeking at you, “All ears.”

“First, keep the freaky murders out of this, okay?” You started, watching him nod, “Second, this is just to test it out. I didn’t wanna just immediately cross it off the list of freaky shit we’ve done if we don’t do it.”

“Understandable.”

“Third, Roleplay is optional. But, I’m keeping anything too crazy off the table.” You looked at him, “Got it?”

“Got it, baby.” He smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek, “I love you, princess.”

“I love you, too, Jen.” You cupped his cheek, kissing him on the lips, slipping your tongue along his own to reignite the fire that wasn’t completely snuffed. Jeno eagerly reciprocated, his moan vibrating against your lips.

“Damn, don’t know if I really wanna keep the mask on now.”

You giggled, pressing another kiss against his lips, “Better put it back on before I change my mind.”

Jeno placed the mask back against his face, his eyes showing the smile you couldn’t see through the barrier, “I’m gonna start moving, baby.”

“Mmhmm,” You nodded, biting your lips as you felt his hips moving at a slow pace, the moan caught in your throat bubbling over.

Jeno had some type of fixation with your hands, one hand tangling with your own as his other pinned yours against the mattress. He loved seeing your hands wrapped around his cock, his wrist, intertwined with his own. He loved feeling your hands tangled in his hair, grabbing his biceps and digging into his skin, sometimes around his neck, if you both felt that was the move. Your hands were his favorite part of you.

Jeno squeezed your hand in his own as his hips pressed into you deeper, swearing under his breath as he felt your pussy weep around his cock, “Feel so good, angel.” He groaned, throwing his head back, “Missed this pretty pussy.”

You whined, your chest heaving as you squeezed his hand in your own. Words attempted to escape, but only came out as gasps. Jeno always had a way of filling you to the brim, and bringing you to the edge quickly.

Jeno could feel how badly you missed his cock; squeezing around him, the choked moans and gasps, the way your body tensed, and how your eyes rolled behind your eyelids. Sweat lingered on his forehead behind the mask, his breath growing heavily as he watched you writhe in desperation, “Like that, baby?”

You nodded when your words betrayed you, feeling Jeno’s hands leave your own to grip your waist and move you along his length, “Fu-“ You moaned as his hips piston against your own, reaching your hand up to tangle in his hair under the fabric of the mask, “Just like that, Jeno.” You stuttered out to your best ability, the pleasure overwhelmingly covering your body in a sheen of sweat.

Jeno smirked under the mask, his thumb moving to rub at your clit to heighten your experience and bring you closer to the edge, “Such a good girl, telling me just how you want it.”

Every word Jeno said pushed you closer to the edge, your legs mindlessly wrapping around his hips, “Feels so good… I’m almost there, Jen.”

“Me too, princess.” He gasped, his eyes trained on where you two met, the white, creamy ring sitting at the base of his cock, “Fit together so perfectly.” He moaned out, his thumb continuing to rub harsh circles on your clit, “Feel it, baby? ’S like you were made for me. Such a pretty cunt for my cock.”

Your fingers tightened around his hair, tugging at the strands as he continued to speak, “Jen…”

“You cummin’ already, baby?” He chuckled, “Such a good girl, cumming on my cock. Wish I could fill you up and make you mine already. Wanna show everyone you’re my girl.”

As he continued his assault on your cunt, you hung onto his every word, your pussy clenching around him. The ability to form sentences with words and exclamation has long since been fucked out of your brain, the only thing repeating in your head was, “Jeno, Jeno, Jeno.”

Jeno let out a raspy moan, the mask brushing against your chest as you felt his cum fill the condom, the heat filling your belly with warmth. Your chests both raised in sync as you attempted to catch your breath. Pulling the mask off, Jeno stilled inside you, smiling down at you sweetly, "Good job, baby."

You smiled back, pecking his lips, "Good job to you, too." You hummed, leaning back on your elbows, "Okay, pull out. I gotta piss before I develop a UTI."

"I love when you talk dirty to me." He teased, pulling out of you slowly before he laid back on the bed, steadying his breathing. Laying his head on the arms he crossed behind his head, he glanced around the room while he waited for you to come back from the restroom, “Did you get any work done on your paper?”

Returning from the restroom, you laid down beside him, “No, because someone gave me a call saying some guy was missing and they didn’t know where they were.”

Jeno rolled his eyes, “Haha.” He laughed sarcastically, “I told you, the car broke down. I couldn’t do anything but walk there.”

“I’m just teasing.” You nudged him, curling against his side as he wrapped his arm around your waist, the both looking at one another sweetly.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“For what?”

“I know I’m shitty with getting to places on time, and you have every right to be mad at me for this. You shouldn’t be the only one who needs to deal with this.” He brushed his fingers along your side, rubbing his thumb along your hip, “I’m gonna listen to you, okay? I know it seemed like I wasn’t paying attention but I was.”

You pressed your forehead against his, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “I know, Jen. And, I appreciate you for everything you already do.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Jeno.”

You both settled for relaxing and enjoying one another’s company, especially considering you both rarely got days off together. Jeno played a movie on his charged phone, which you both cuddled and watched. And it wasn’t Stab much to your surprise. It was something you suggested. You used that as proof that he loved you, even if it was something small like this; Cuddling, watching a movie together, sharing kisses and random thoughts either of you had about the film. You couldn’t wait for another day like this, even if it was years away.

You don’t remember falling asleep, and you don’t remember Jeno leaving for work that morning. You don’t even think he said goodbye, and it didn’t smell like his shampoo in the dorm room, nor his cologne. Rubbing your eyes, you glanced around the room, for any sign he left for work; a note, a text message on your phone screen, or even a Tupperware bin with some food he made or ordered in. And after a long look around the room, you found the post-it note stuck to the paper of your notebook with all the information you could think to include in your report of the Woodsboro murders that read; “Be back later. Went to work. Make sure to finish your paper. Love you.” And in smaller hand writing underneath his already small lettering, he wrote, “P.S. Left some dirty clothes on the floor. I’ll do the wash later.”

Setting the note down, you sighed, walking around the small dorm room to find said clothes he left on the floor, but you couldn't find it. You checked the back of his chair, the bathroom, by the dresser, but you couldn't find it. You squat down, looking underneath the bed to find, lo and behold, the dirty clothes he left on the floor. You wondered how much of a rush he could've been in to kick them under the bed.

You reached under the bed, grabbing the clothes only to immediately drop it as soon as you pull it out, your hands covered in red liquid. It covered the floor where you had dropped it, a "splat" echoed in your head after you'd done so. It wasn't as thick and red as blood, and it definitely wasn't as thin and clear as water. You couldn't decipher what it was. It dried down quickly on your hands and the floor.

Horror aside, you rised from the ground, and grabbed a brush to clean the mess off the floor — you'd interrogate Jeno later — and scrubbed the living hell out of the floor. You were sure the finish over the hardwood floors were coming off by how hard you were scrubbing. You had to get the deposit back for the dorm room, even if you had to scrub the floor on your hands and knees.

Kneeling there, you felt tears brim your eyes as you thought to yourself, "What exactly am I cleaning up?" You felt your arms burn with each motion you made, you felt your breathing grow heavy. You could count this as your workout for the week.

"Jeno, you idiot." You whispered to yourself, the tears rolling down your face, gasping for air. "God, this is so stupid." You used your sleeve to wipe at your cheeks, a shaky breath escaping your lips.

You tried to push the thought from your mind, deciding to just focus on your other preoccupation, which was sitting inside your laptop, begging for any type of attention from you divided brain. So, you did. Cross-referencing your notes, reading the PDF of the books on your laptop and then switching over to Microsoft Word to type anything that came to mind, as long as it's relevant.

Yet, you could feel your mind drifting.

You sat there, pausing as you thought about everything you've read as if you could even begin to connect it to your life. There's so much Sydney Prescott went through that you couldn't even begin to comprehend. Rubbing your temples, you were reaching the final stretch of the paper, attempting to type out a conclusion that would make any type of sense for it.

The dorm room opened and you turned briefly to find your boyfriend walking in with the earbuds in his ears, "Hey, baby." He walked over, pecking your head, "How's the paper coming along?"

You tapped your pen against your notebook, "I'm stuck."

Jeno began to dress down from his work uniform, his eyes glancing at his side of the bed, the green and white heavy duty scrub brush laying on the ground, covered in the diluted red suds. "Did you grab the clothes?"

"I was trying to." You mumbled, "What was on them?"

"Why'd you do that?" Jeno voice was deeper and you can see his brows furrow as he looked at you.

You turned around in your seat, looking at him, "I was trying to help."

"I told you I'd do it." He shouted.

"Jen, I was just-"

"I said I'd pick them up and wash them."

You glanced down at the clothes on the floor, whatever was on them leaking between the floorboards and you winced at the thought of it staining the floor. "I just wanted to help! The laundry basket isn't far from where you put them."

"Well, I was in a rush. I didn't have time to throw them in the basket. That's why I left them on the floor."

You sighed, rubbing your eyes, "I just thought I was saving time by moving it to the basket."

Jeno pulled his work shirt off, groaning, "I didn't want to ruin the other clothes in there."

"And just leave it to soak into the flooring?"

"No— God, fuck." He threw his work shirt into the laundry basket before picking up the soiled clothes and placing them inside, "There, happy?"

You looked at him, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" He grumbled, "Just wish you didn't have such lousy faith in me."

"I never said I did."

"You sure as hell implied it." He grabbed the basket and walked out the dorm room to the laundry room down the hall.

Your eyes narrowed at the back of his head before you went back to your paper, finishing it off in record time. It was finally time to prepare your paper to be printed, turned in and graded. You unplugged your laptop, making sure to save your finished paper before you shut it off and carried it out to the library.

You gave the two dollars and fifty cents to the librarian to use the printer, and stood by the machine to print out your report.

As the belt of the printer echoed through the library and watched each paper spit out after one another, the ink bleeding into the back, you were now preoccupied with everything you read about the Woodsboro murders, what exactly your boyfriend was upset about and whether or not, you should be the one to apologize. You didn't think you were doing anything wrong. You thought you were helping by grabbing the clothes. You really weren't concerned about whatever was on it anymore; all you know is you were happy it wasn't blood.

Maybe this whole report was getting to your head. You've read Sydney Prescott's encounters too much to the point you were scared what she went through was happening to you. How impossible is it?

You're just paranoid. You're being delusional and dramatic and you could only do your best to gaslight yourself into believing you're being a crazy girlfriend who had no reason to make your boyfriend feel like an idiot.

Drowning in your thoughts, you didn't draw your eyes away from the printer, unaware of the beeping it gave you to grab the papers it finished printing out.

Like you were a puppet, you grab the papers, tucking them under your arm with your laptop, and made your way to the hole puncher, pressing down on the lever after setting the papers inside.

Everything felt like ten tasks wrapped into one as you did them, like it was neverending.

You hole punched the papers, and placed them onto the counter, "Hi," you smiled to the librarian.

"Hi, what can I help you with?" She reciprocated the smile.

"I wanted to purchase one of the report covers." You nodded your head to the item, opening your wallet.

She rised from the chair, grabbing the cover.

You glanced down at the glass box you placed your laptop and papers on, eyeballing a newspaper that was displayed in the box. From what you could read through the glass, there seemed to have been some recent murders around the area. Jesus, you spent these last two days inside like some recluse and people have been dying.

“Can… Can I also get one of these papers?” You asked, pointing at it through the glass.

The librarian nodded her head as she set the items down, using the key on her keyring to open the glass case and grab a newspaper, setting it down beside the covers and your items, “All right, your total will be 5 dollars even.”

You dropped the bill onto the counter, grabbing your items and made your way out of the library. You anxiously hurried back to your dorm, opening the door to the room, setting the items down on your desk. The newspaper laid flat on your desk, your eyes reading over the article from a distance.

It was nauseating, reading over the details. Two people gone in two days… It was hard to stomach it.

You sat down on your chair, staring at the front page. To think you were perfectly fine while these people were living their last day being tortured. Obviously, you couldn’t have worn a cape and saved them, but, you wished there was something you could’ve done to prevent something like this from happening. The addresses seemed all too familiar. Like, you’ve seen them before. Somewhere familiar almost.

The door opened and you heard a sniffle from the doorway, “Oh, baby.” Jeno whispered, wandering over to you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “Baby, I’m so sorry. I-I had a rough day at work, hearing shit from Jaehyun and everyone about yesterday, and I took it out on you and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be making a big deal over you helping, especially not since our anniversary is tomorrow.”

You rubbed his head as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, “It’s okay, baby.” You kissed his cheek, “Hey, have you heard about this?” You motioned to the newspaper.

“About what?” He lifted his head, looking at the front page of the newspaper, “Yeah… Yeah, I heard about it. Chenle was mentioning it at work today.”

“It’s sad.”

“It is.” He sighed, rubbing your shoulder with his hand, “All we can do right now is just be happy it wasn’t us.”

You felt the lump in your throat strain as you tried to keep your tears back, “I guess you’re right.”

Jeno pecked your cheek, glancing at the papers on your desk, “You finished the report?"

“Yeah.” You folded the newspaper up, setting it off to the side, flitting your fingers through the paper, “Wanna read it?”Jeno scoffed, “Uh, yeah.” He grabbed the paper, beginning to read through it in silence, as if he was absorbing the information. You sat there, waiting for his input, which was often accompanied by the mention of his favorite movie.

Jeno read the pages all too quickly, turning to look at you, “You always have such a way with words, baby.” He set them down beside you, “You’ll definitely get a high grade on it.”

You smiled, threading the paper through the loops, preparing it to be turned in, the cover with your name, title of the report, class, et cetera, et cetera at the top. “I’m glad you think so.”

“You put work into it. Compassion, care, intellect. You would deserve it.”

“How’d the wash go?”

“They’re in the dryer right now.” Jeno leaned back on the bed, pulling his phone out, “Should be done in 20 minutes. More or less.”

Your heart still ached from what Jeno said earlier, so you returned his answer with silence, not able to find words to express yourself. At least, not yet. You decided to keep it under wraps until after your anniversary tomorrow. After the party. After Halloween.

It was Halloween night. Jeno and you have spent the beginning of your anniversary cuddling in bed, whispering soft “Happy Anniversary”’s to one another. He took you out to breakfast, lunch and shopping. “Just to show you off,” Jeno tried to convince you. But, now, it was time to sit through the two hour long movie Jeno and you both shared every anniversary. Jeno thought it’d be funny to dress up in the Ghostface costume for the evening, since he was the “star” of the movie. He said that, “behind the mask, it wasn’t just Billy Loomis or Stu Macher. Together, they worked as one.”

“I got an A on my paper.” You briefly mentioned as Jeno drove you both to his work place. Turns out, his car just needed a jumpstart.

“That’s great, baby. I knew you’d get a good grade.” He chuckled, turning his head to look at you before looking at the road again, “What’d you get docked off?”

“Turns out, I was a bit too sympathetic in my writing. I got docked a few points for ‘appearing too biased’.” You shrugged, “It’s whatever.”

Jeno chuckled, “Well, I thought it was amazing.” He smiled as he pulled into the parking lot of the theater, “Just goes to show that you have a better point of view than other people. Not everyone will understand that.”

Unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing your bag, you exited the car, “I guess, but I understand it from my professor’s perspective. It’s supposed to be an informational report, not an opinion discussion board.”

Jeno followed, locking the door behind you both, “Doesn’t mean you can’t share your opinion.” He grabbed your hand in his own and guided you to the front doors of the theater. The theater was covered in Halloween decorations, and it was unfortunate that it’d all have to come down after this evening.

Jaehyun and Jeno’s other managers were handing out drinks and popcorn to your boyfriend’s coworkers, who wandered off to the theater they were all familiar with. Approaching the counter, you heard a loud “Boo!’’ echo off the walls, causing you to jump and hold your hand to your chest.

“Chenle, what the fuck?” You scolded, glaring at him through your lashes.

“Dude, Chenle, I told you not to do that stuff tonight.” Jeno sighed, rubbing his temples, “I told you Y/N’s been freaked out cause of all the shit happening.”

“My bad. I meant to scare Jeno more than I did to you, Y/N.” Chenle chuckled, “Sorry.”

You sighed softly, “Doesn’t help that it already happened.”

Jeno wrapped his arm around your shoulder, silently comforting you as he spoke with Chenle, “We’re wearing the same costume.”

“We, indeed, are.” Chenle sighed, “You just can’t stop copying me.” He glanced down at the mask he held in his hand, “Is that the replica? Are you seriously wearing it to this?”

Jeno scoffed, “Where else am I gonna wear it?” He questioned, moving up in the line as it progressed, “I can’t keep it hanging up on my wall forever.”

Your heart settled in your chest as you walked up to the counter, looking at Jaehyun, mouthing a quiet, “Help.”

Jaehyun already knew the predicament you were in; forced to listen to the conversation of two movie buffs talking about “Stab!” He’s had to deal with it for the last 4 years the two had worked there. There was times he’s even had to apologize for interrupting their precious reminiscences of the movie. “Chenle, Jeno, Y/N, what can I get for you guys?”

“Jaehyun!” Chenle greeted him over the counter with open arms, “Be a doll and get the lady some Sour Patch. I scared her half to death trying to scare her boyfriend.”

Jaehyun sighed, glancing at you, “Freaked out about those things happening around town?”

“You could say so.” You accepted the candy the man offered, “Just found about it yesterday, too.”

“Yeah, she could hardly sleep last night.”

“Babe,”

“What?” Jeno shrugged, “Not saying it’s a bad thing. Just a little uncharacteristic of you.”

You sighed, letting Jeno grab the popcorn and the drinks for you two, “Thank you, Jaehyun.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He smiled, nodding his head to you.

Jeno guided both you and Chenle to the theater the movie was showing in, letting you take the lead up the stairs. There they were, the seats you both sat in 3 years ago, still in the condition you remember them in. So many people have sat in these chairs and would never understand just how much it has meant to you and your relationship. You sat in the aisle seat, gently taking the drinks in your hand as your boyfriend sat down beside you. He was quick to lift the arm rest between you two to pull you closer to him, his arm wrapped around your waist with the popcorn bucket sat in between you both. He accepted his drink and set it down in the cup holder.

“Just like all those years ago.” Jeno sighed, resting his head on top of yours.

You smiled to yourself, grabbing his hand in your own, “As much as I pretend to hate this movie, it still has a special place in my heart.”

Jeno kissed your knuckles, watching as his co-workers and plus one’s fill their seats. The smell of butter on popcorn filled the air, and the quiet chatter between everyone echoed off the wall.

Jaehyun entered the theater, standing at the front near the screen, “Happy Halloween, everyone!” He greeted, crossing his arms over his chest as everyone repeated the words, “Much to my reluctance, your coworkers requested this movie to be shown because of the connotation that it is the halloween movie to watch.”

Jeno and Chenle both gave hoots and hollers at the mention of their suggestion getting picked.

“It also happens to be the first movie our favorite visitor saw with her boyfriend here at the theater.” Jaehyun motioned to both you and Jeno, everyone turning to look at you, “This is also a token of our appreciation to our team for the close end-of-the-year. We would not be here without all of your guys help and hard-work.”

The theater filled with clapping, cheering and sweet words called out to everyone’s favorite manager.

“Settle down, everyone.” He chuckled, “Alright, everyone. Presenting this evening is Stab! Please silence your cell phones and enjoy the movie.”

The lights turned down and you watched the film light up the screen. No previews, no movie trailers, just pure film. It started out how it always did; Casey Becker popping popcorn on the stove, the harsh lighting of her house bringing out the color of her blonde hair.

Despite watching the movie multiple times, every fake jumpscare, every fake gore still made you jump and turn away from the screen. Jeno chuckled, comforting you as best he could, pecking your head.

"I've got to use the restroom." You whispered, attempting to stand up.

"Wait, you'll miss it." Jeno focused on the screen as he watched the movie intently, absorbing everything.

"Jen, we see the movie all the time. I'm sure I know what happens." You stood from the seat, glancing at the row behind you, gasping softly.

The row that was once filled with Jeno's coworkers was now empty with a horrific scene that you couldn't stomach.

Heads slumped forward, bodies slack, popcorn spilling out on the floor as the hands they had on the paper bucket were loosened.

You nudged Jeno's shoulder, unable to speak, who only glanced behind him, a sigh escaping his lips, "He always does this."

"What?" Your brows furrowed, "Jeno, what?"

Jeno set the popcorn down on the now empty seat beside him, where Chenle was.

"You... You—"

Jeno covered your mouth with his hand, covering his face with the mask, speaking through the mesh, "You're too trusting."

You felt your bottom lip quiver as he looked at you through the eyeholes, the tears rolling down your cheeks. You were an idiot, such an idiot. The sneaking out despite having his keys, the car "breaking" down, the dirty clothes, the disappearing. How didn't you see it? How didn't you see that he was the problem this whole time?

"You seriously believed I wasn't doing anything against your wishes?" He whispered, "You're such a dolt. You'd think reading all the books on criminal behavior would have made you more aware of what you were getting into."

"Jen..." You mumbled through his hand, "Please, ju-just let me go. I-I won't tell anyone."

Jeno clicked his tongue as he nodded his head towards Chenle wandering around the ground floor, holding Jaehyun by the back of his neck, bringing you both face to face, "You're too cute, thinking you'll be getting out of this."

The movie continued to play in the background and you couldn't help but repeat all the lines in your head.

Jaehyun struggled against Chenle's grip, his brows furrowed.

"For what it's worth, I actually was in love with you." Jeno whispered in your ear, "Every time I was with you, I felt butterflies in my stomach and my chest ached every time I thought about being apart from you." He rested his chin on your shoulder, "Consider this orientation."

He wrapped your hands around a clip pointed blade, one you didn't even know he owned, guiding it to point at Jaehyun's stomach, yet not piercing the skin just yet.

"All you have to do is push this blade into his belly. Kinda like gutting a pig."

You shook your head, your face contorting as he explained it to you. The tears continued to roll down your cheeks and over the black gloves Jeno wore.

"I told you she didn't have it in her, Jeno." Chenle chuckled, "She's too humanitarian."

"Shut up." Your boyfriend — or rather, at this point, your ex-boyfriend — glared, "She's gonna have to get some blood on her hands if we don't want to go down by ourselves."

Jaehyun attempted to yell, Chenle's hand covering his mouth quickly.

During the little squabble the two wannabe Ghostface's were having, your hand loosened on the knife that Jeno had released to point at Chenle.

Jaehyun and you both made eye contact, silently communicating with one another. He nodded his head to the knife in your hand, you shook yours, and he looked at Jeno, raising his eyebrows. You knew what he was telling you to do. "Use the knife on your boyfriend who was actually a homocidal maniac and planned this whole entire thing."

Using the knife Jeno planted in your hand was you accepting that everything you put in for the last 3 years was over. That despite all your efforts to put him up on a pedestal as the "best boyfriend who might have an odd obsession with this slasher film" was all for nothing. That all those things people have whispered about him was true and that you were nothing more than enabler. That you were none the wiser to all these strange behaviors coming from your boyfriend.

It made you nauseous to believe that were put into this situation and you dragged innocent people into it.

Jaehyun was almost begging you, pleading you, to set all those feelings aside and to get the upper hand in this situation. He wanted you to realize that this may be the end of 3 years but that you'll be free from the gossip, from the worry of what he was truly doing, from spending an extra 3 years trying to convince yourself that Jeno is a good guy and not some maniac under wraps.

You shook your head, feeling your bottom lip tremble as you considered the options. You could either let the two toy with Jaehyun and yourself like you guys were fashion dolls, or you could attempt to end this now and give them a taste of their own medicine. It was hard to detach yourself from Jeno — you had spent every day of your life with him after that first day. You both moved in, you adjusted your schedules for one another, you shared bills, you shared chores, you shared one another. You drag your eyes along the mask that Jeno wore, silently wishing it was just some big, giant cruel prank that would end with Ashton Kutcher coming out with a camera crew and a team telling you you had gotten punk'd in this day and age.

I can't, I can't, I can't, you whispered to yourself as the tears were pouring from your eyes, gripping the knife and turning in Jeno's arm; which seemed to loosen out of habit; the knife meeting his abdomen.

"Ow!" Jeno looked at you, glaring, "You stabbed me!"

You held the crimson-stained blade in your hand, sobbing, "Please, Jen... Please don't do this!"

He looked to Chenle, then back at you, "I've never been stabbed before."

Jaehyun used the distraction as a way to make his way out of Chenle's grasp, blocking you with his body, "Both of you, you can walk away from this."

You let Jaehyun block you, exchanging the knife between your hands, allowing him to hold it out in front of him.

"Walk away?" Jeno's gloved hand covered the wound, "It's too late for that." He chuckled darkly, "You know why other killers get caught so fast?"

"Jeno, please stop!" You screamed.

"Because they don't take the extra precautions; different sized shoes than regular ones, different cologne, different clothes than regular. They never take the time to make a whole new persona."

The two walked up the stairs, pushing you both into the back row, Jaehyun's hand holding your shaking one in his, "Jeno, Chenle, please. Let us go. You already got everyone else in the theater. What does it matter if there's 2 left?"

"Because if she lives," Chenle pointed, "We're suspects."

"And if you live," Jeno whispering almost sinisterly, "She has a witness."

"I won't say a word, please... please, Jeno, you know I won't. You know I won't say anything." Your bottom lip wobbled, "Just let us go."

The movie continued to play in the background, the contours of the mask illuminated by the scene on the screen, "Don't you remember this scene, Y/N?"

You glanced at the screen briefly, being reminded of the first date you both shared; It was when Billy confronted Sydney after being arrested. Jeno was holding you close to his chest that first day together, like he didn't have a care in the world that it was your guys first date.

You shut your eyes, squeezing Jaehyun's hand in your own, which he reciprocated in comfort. Jeno spoke, but you tuned it out, trying to calm down from the anxiety attack that rised in your chest.

Jaehyun, Jeno, Chenle. Chenle, Jeno, Jaehyun. The conversation continued on and on, each arguing with one another as if it was over the last slice of pizza.

You weren't a final girl, and never did you have it in you to be a final girl. Like Chenle said, you're too humanitarian. But, you stood against the wall, your heart thumping in your chest as Jaehyun defended you both with the knife.

Everything was a blur; Jeno and Chenle teaming up against Jaehyun, Jaehyun receiving a wound on his cheek, You couldn't move. You were frozen. This wasn't a movie, it wasn't a stupid sequel to "Stab!". You were forced to watch this go on, and you could barely move.

Jeno gave a final look at you through the mask, before a thud echoed across the theater, Chenle falling right after.

You sobbed silently as you looked at your boyfriend laying on the floor of the theater, annoyed to see the cold pvc plastic of the mask and not his handsome face that you grew so familiar to seeing.

Jaehyun kneeled beside you, grabbing your hand, "Come on. We've gotta get out of here." He helped you up, and you half expected for Jeno to follow after you, not as this monster he became, but as your boyfriend.

"Jeno..."

"No, come on." Jaehyun whispered, letting you continue to stare at him as he lead you down the hallway of the auditorium. "Last time I hire Stab fanatics." He grumbled to himself, sitting you down at a square table in the lobby as he called the police on the theater's phone.

You glanced at Jaehyun, noticing the blood seeping through his work shirt, his breathing heavy.

"You're hurt."

Jaehyun quickly gave as much information as he could to the police, before he hung up and looked at you, "I'll be fine. First responders should be here soon."

You sighed, "I'm half expecting Jeno to come through the door and tell me he's ready to go home."

"It'll be hard to get used to." Jaehyun winced, leaning against the concession counter.

"I don't know if I want to get used to it."

Jaehyun sighed, "He tried to kill you." He mumbled, "He tried to have you kill me." He looked at you, "He didn't know you. Someone who loves you would never subjugate you to that."

The shock was enough to force you to stop crying, rubbing your arm with your hand. Jaehyun was right; if Jeno truly loved you, he'd never put you into this situation. The sirens and lights reflected and echoed off the walls just as the first responders arrived.

Jaehyun offered his hand to you, which you kindly took as he led you out the door.

It's been weeks since everything at the theater went down. Jaehyun and you met up frequently for emotional support. You're in therapy after everything that happened. You'd still find yourself thinking about Jeno, waking up in the morning questioning where he was.

That evening at the theater, after the police arrived, Jaehyun was transported to the hospital for treatment. Leaving you alone outside the theater, sniffling to yourself. They exited just as quickly as they entered.

"Didn't see anything." One of the police officers said to another and you whipped your head towards them, making it completely obvious that you were listening.

"You telling me there wasn't two adults in hooded robes with those cheesy Ghostface masks?"

"Nope. Only those victims in the seats."

You moved back in with your mother after that. You spent more of your time looking over you shoulder, in fear you'd see your ex-boyfriend with a knife, rather than enjoying your life as it is now.

You could hardly settle in your bedroom, laying on your side watching the movie on your television screen. Nothing too exciting, just a re-run of Mrs. Doubtfire. With your head leaning on your hand and your blanket over your shoulders, you heard a creak behind you.

You didn't dare look, but from the mirror you had angled to face your bedroom door, you saw the same pvc plastic you see in your nightmares, and the shine of the blade.

copyright © 2024 thewonandonly. all rights reserved.

[heartfullofleeches]

In wolf's clothing

Yan Hybrids (Rabbit, NB. Mouse, Fem. Swan, Male) + Gender Neutral Sheep (?) Hybrid Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Mentions of Murder

-

Four animals are brought into questioning following the gruesome murder and dismemberment of their neighbor- A rabbit, a mouse, a swan - and a sheep. A sin of this caliber has not been committed since the founding decades of their shared home. The culprit responsible for the heinous act is to be brought to justice through execution by hanging in front of the town as a cautionary example to any who desire the same level of senseless bloodshed. 

Shall we begin?- 

The rabbit was an upstanding figure in the community. An outsider who quickly made a place for themselves amongst their peers, garnering love and tolerance by means of pleasant conversation and baked treats. Once the rabbit was present, sadness and grief were a thing of the past for most to whom they were acquainted. Honest and true, the rabbit has never told a lie nor done anything to jeopardize their new cozy life. 

“It's such a shame what happened to Mr. Possum.” Said the rabbit. “We had plans for brunch on the day he vanished. I even whipped up a batch of the scones he loved so much.” 

“Did you kill Mr. Possum?” 

The rabbit doesn't bat an eye as they reply. “No, I did not.”

“Where were you the morning he disappeared?”

“I was making tarts for another one of our friends. I think you may know. Sheep may not be the most talkative, but they enjoy my baking as much as any other. Where is Sheep? Are they alright? All this fuss surely must be getting to them by now…I hope they enjoyed the tarts….” 

The rabbit is released from custody. 

The mouse was a timid creature. On the rare occasion she wasn't holed up in the confines of her burrow, a common place to find the mouse was wandering along the borders of town where roads ended and the treelining began. Day in and day out, the little mouse would scrounge for fallen branches. The mouse found purpose for herself weaving baskets and other trinkets for herself and the neighbors who treated her in kind. 

“Oh…This won't take long, will it? I'd rather not be out past nightfall…” 

*Did you kill Mr. Possum?” 

Pain grips the tiny mouse’s voice as she squeaks. “I could never hurt a fly! Mr. Possum was such a gentle soul too… If not a tad misguided…”

“Where were you the morning he disappeared?”

The mouse dries her tears as swiftly as they fall. “Taking a nap after being up all evening making a necklace for… Oh, stars- Sheep, they're here aren't they? Could you let them know I'll be waiting for them outside? My poor, sweet Sheep…”

The mouse is released from custody. 

The swan was nothing if not a beautiful face. Tending to the upkeep of his image, the swan had no care for the outside world nor the people who dwelled within it. A shut in, abiding his precious time in the sanctity of his study. A man of few words; letters were the only feasible way of communicating with the bird, less the matter was of utmost importance and worthy of his time. 

“This is pointless.”

“Did you kill Mr. Possum?”

The swan scoffs - pinching the wall of his cheek with his teeth to avoid expression. “What good would killing that old bastard do me? Now look what you've done? If I develop wrinkles from frowning there will be hell to pay, Mayor.”

“Where were you the morning he disappeared?”

The swan brushes dirt off his fine coat. “In my study as always. That morning I was preoccupied writing notes in one of my books I intended to let that sheep borrow for a time….They are in this building, are they not? I'm sure they've asked for me by now.”

The swan is released from custody.

The sheep is a shadow upon the community. Lurking just out of sight, the sheep did everything in their power to remain unseen amongst their fellow townspeople. Their aloof nature when approach proved their odd behavior was not out of malice, but few still had their suspensions. The sheep was a sweet and gentle soul nonetheless. If only they took more care of their fur…

“Do I really have to be here? I didn't know him very well to begin with.”

“Yes… I'm afraid. Did you kill Mr. Possum?”

The sheep licks at the corner of their mouth, tongue collecting every crumb of pastry glued to their fur. How they wished they could have had just one more bite before coming. They blink, beady eyes glossing over with tears. 

“Did you…kill Mr. Possum?”

The sheep fiddles with the string of their new necklace tucked beneath their shirt as the mayor presses further- fighting every urge to gnaw at the bones dangling over their chest. “I… I didn't.”

“Where were you the morning he disappeared?”

The sheep recalls a distant memory- Lines written in a book they'd read not long ago. “I…was at home. I'm sure Rabbit, Mouse, and Swan can vouch for me….”

A hand squeezes the sheep’s shoulder. The mayor, a noble and charitable elk, nods in understanding at the smaller animal. He eyes the rings of red lacing their neck as they nervously pick at the skin. 

“Understood. Make sure you stick to this story if anyone else questions you. Hurry on home, young one, and be quick.”

The elk leans in closer- Whispering, though the walls of his office are as thick as the saliva the sheep swallows as he utters those dreaded words. 

 “It's about time for you to trim your claws again.”

The sheep is free from custody. 

Scurrying on home with their tail still tucked between their legs, the sheep finds three familiar faces waiting for them there.

“Sheep!” Warmth bathes the terrified animal as they're swept into the caring arms of their long-eared companion. The rabbit dabs their wet cheeks with their apron. “Are you alright, hunny-bunny? Tell us everything that happened.”

Through teary eyes, the sheep details every portion of their integration. “I think the mayor knows I didn't do it…. I hope the same goes for you guys…” 

A collective wave of relief falls over the group.

“That's good news.” Mouse adds. “If anyone is incapable of hurting someone it's Sheep… Poor Mr. Possum….I feel terrible for what happened to him.”

Swan rolls his eyes. “I’d say his demise is poetic justice for accusing Sheep of being a… well you know what.”

Rabbit shoves Sheep's head into their chest. “We all agreed not to talk about that anymore! Especially if Sheep is present! We've all had a long day… Why don't we head inside and relax after all that kerfuffle with a nice, rejuvenating cup of tea? Sheep, could you be a dear and grab that kettle I bought for you?” 

“O..oh… Um…Alright.”

The sheep squeezes past Swan and Mouse as they step inside their home. The remainder of the group wait for the telltale sound of them scrounging around in their room for the present before any of them speaks. 

Rabbit sighs. “Okay. I know they're horrible with keeping track of everything we give them so we have a few minutes to chat about this. Mouse, did you return the ax?”

Mouse points in the general direction of another house off somewhere in the distance. “I put it back in Squrriel’s shed where I found it last night.”

“Swan, did you check every one of those cameras you have to see if anyone saw us?”

Swan rolls his eyes. “Like anything that interesting happens in this town after nightfall. We're in the clear. We’d best head instead to help them. Plus, I need to get my time with them since you'll already taken front and center with everything else.” 

The death of Mr. Possum was later ruled as a robbery gone wrong committed by traveling crooks. It took many moons, but eventually peace fell upon the cozy little town and its tight knit community once more. Sheep, unable to sleep after the tragedy, sought refuge in the homes of those there for them in their time of need. 

Their doors were always open for their kind, gentle sheep. 

[forestshadow-wolf]

His leg buckled, and the ground met him hard at the knees, but he didn't feel it. Couldn't feel it. Couldn't feel anything but fucking agony.

Ghost was dying; he could feel it in his heart. Literally. He could feel the soulbond unraveling. Out and away and away and away. Like plucking a live chicken, except he was the bird not the butcher. It was an anguish all too familiar. Only last time was like ripping his flesh open with rose thorns over and over again to pain the petals red, and this time felt like stitching open a wound to leave it weeping blood and guts and fluids and infection. This time it felt like festering evil.

"WHERE IS HE!" He roared, snapping at the hands on him, grabbing at others to haul himself to his feet again. His knee went weak again, but he would not let his limbs fail him. Fail Ghost. "GET OFF ME!" He did not wipe out an entire enemy outpost, only to be stopped by his own allies, while the very thing keeping him alive dies.

Some barking command that he didn't hear from outside his tunnel of vision had the burning touches release him. He obeyed a command that he didn't discern out of forced submission. The rabid thing rearing it's ugly face recognizing authority in the face of anger.

He wasn't sane as he stalked through the halls, following a faceless form he knew but didn't recognize. It's didn't matter. Nothing much but the decade old pain twisting where his heart should be mattered. None of it mattered because Ghost was dying.

He was dying while he loved.

Because some unlucky tosser touched what was his, and now Ghost was dying with fire as blood, as he unraveled Soap's heart. And Soap could feel every bit of it. The pain and agony of losing a soulbond. Again.

He knew the fire burning Ghost alive. I made the vial in his possession feel that much heavier. He carried the world in his pocket. It was smaller than his littlest finger, and it fit in his hand like he was meant to crush it. And it would save his life.

It would save Ghost's life.

He doesn't remember the walk to bring him to Ghost. Only flashes of anger where he snapped at too many hands.

But then he's there. Surrounded by white walls, and a white cot. Staring at a bloodied man in a dirty kit and black mask. Untouched on the command of an even less sane, more rabid him, only 27 hours ago.

He doesn't know who came and who left. Only remembers him, and his body, and the little glass vial, and Ghost. He remembers the chilled, damp skin when he pulled fabric back to reveal too pale skin underneath. He remembers how the needle went in easily. He doesn't move after that. Someone takes the needle from him. He felt it. Didn't see it. Saw only Ghost.

He just. Stood there. Watching. But not looking. Not seeing. He couldn't think. Couldn't move. Didn't dare hope. Couldn't pray. Couldn't beg. Pure catatonia. Nobody moved him. Nobody touched him. He heard people talking. Maybe to him. Maybe not. He doesn't know.

He doesn't remember how long it was. Maybe that night. Maybe that day too. But he remembers what brought him back.

He remembers the chest rhythm change. Something not just a natural sigh. Something deeper. Rousing. And the way Ghost's eyes flicked behind his eyelids for what felt like hours before they opened. Ghost was awake. He was alive.

And it's only then that he realizes that the agony had drained from his veins. The thread around his heart rewound. And it's then that exertion takes him. He falls to his knees hard. Ghost is quick on the call button with panic. But Soap doesn't make it 'til a nurse rushes in before black invades the rest of his vision like a shot to the skull

It couldn't have been more than half a minute before he comes too. It's bright, and there are hands touching him and voices speaking over his head and it's all too much.

"Where is he?" He swats at the abrasive touches, "Ghost. He's awake." Everything hurts. His muscles, his bones, even his teeth. But it's of small importance.

"Easy, Sunshine." A gruff voice pulls everything back into perspective. Price. Crouched at his thigh with a worried look on his face. Soap presses himself up despite protests from the nurses. "He's fine, lad." Price cups the back of his neck, "you made it in time. You saved him." He says it like a prayer. Like he knows it's the only thing that'll keep the rabid thing leashed. And he might be right.

[ressjeon]

relief | myg (m.)

pairing ⇢ yoongi x reader (hints of ot7)

genre/au ⇢ smut, fluff, idol!au, long time ??

summary ⇢ the nerves have been shaking Yoongi’s usual confidence while preparing for his first solo tour — what a relief that you’re here then.

wc & rating ⇢ 3k | 18+

warnings/content ⇢ dom/sub dynamics, grinding, protected sex, riding, emotional sex?, praise kink, groping, semi-clothed sex, size kink, breast play, temperature play, orgasm control, yoongi’s hands are everywhere help, aftercare, pillowtalk <3

a/n: it's been a year since yoong's tour kicked off so i wanna celebrate with this, along with my return here! never thought i'll do this cuz i don’t usually write nor read this au but he won again on the poll last year so here we are XD! this is mainly inspired by what i was feeling while watching the live stream of both his shows in the first city of his d-day tour! pretty divider by the amazing @cafekitsune <3

after the final song, you were just as surprised as the crowd around you. a faint chuckle leaves you at the way Yoongi ended his concert.

of course, you should've expected that he'll pull something like this. 

“i’m so proud of you yoongs” 

you greet him enthusiastically as soon as you spot him at the entrance of the hallways near his dressing room. he’s smiling so wide, reaching you at once with his airport-like walk like how he exited the stage quickly earlier.

you beam once he catches you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders despite how sweaty he is.

“it went well” he giggles lightly, caging you in his arms before grabbing your hand to bring you to the backstage area where you both can see the audience without being seen.

the gummy smile plastered on his face never wavered as he watches the fans dispersing outside and you have an inkling that it's reminding him of the world tours with the boys before.

“i told you it would” you whisper once he turns to you, leaning in to give him a peck but Yoongi’s hand reaches up to grab your neck, pulling you in to catch your lips once more and deepen the kiss.

a small whimper elicits from you, both from being needy and worry that any staff might see you both like this but Yoongi seems to not care. it must be the adrenaline and the whiskey combo he had during the concert cause his calloused hands start roaming your body. 

a total opposite during soundcheck where he’s simply cuddling you while waiting during the delay that he almost fell asleep.

though Yoongi's performed in front of millions of people for a decade now, he still feels anxious since he’s doing this on his own and it’s been a long time since he met his fans in person. he was naturally nervous about this but you’ve been doing your best to support him so he's really grateful that you’re here.

teasing him earlier when he put those yellow sunglasses on while you rake your hand through his luscious locks thankfully helped ease his nerves.

"yeah yeah i saw the cat edit"

“you’re so cute”

.

a firm grab of your ass reminds you of where the two of you are, nudging Yoongi slightly to release you. both breathless from the kiss, he’s looking at you in bewilderment until you gestured him to the waiting staff who’s here to take his post-concert pictures.

“pics first” 

he only answered with a pout after releasing you but he followed. you on the other hand couldn't look at the photographer as embarrassment floods you, immediately retreating to the dressing room to wait for Yoongi there.

grabbing another glass of Henny, you scroll through your phone for updates on what’s going on outside. you did sneak out earlier and lined up with fans to get some merch and talked to some of them because well, you are one of them.

loving the boys and their music is one thing you share in common.

.

after a while, the door opens, revealing a smiling Yoongi like he hadn’t been teasing you this whole time.

maybe that was part of his plan but you’ve been patiently waiting. it even came to the point where you can't wait to be all over him now that everything’s done for the night.

placing your empty glass of brandy on the small side table, you drop your phone on the couch before approaching Yoongi. he chuckles when you hastily drag him toward the couch before climbing on his lap.

he doesn’t mind really, knowing how needy you get after he performs like you were in the past. he might’ve unintentionally teased you like he does to everyone else but it's one of the things he loved about you. 

how easily you get turned on in every little thing he and the others do but especially for this. knowing his voice can make you crumble instantly gives him that satisfaction that he didn’t know he had when he first met you.

“you’re worked up this much __?” he teases, hands situating themselves on both sides of your waist. “is it the black or white one?” he adds nonchalantly, pertaining to his outfits prior to the one he’s wearing right now.

“shut up, you know what your voice does to me” you whine impatiently, clutching the silver bone necklace around his neck before leaning in to kiss him again.

ah, the chain, another one that you love seeing on him. he'll always be fascinated with your favourites no matter how long you've been with them.

you deepened the kiss this time and Yoongi welcomed them with fervour. it’s his turn to get lost in the moment now that you’re needier than him. his ending fit riled you up this much that now you’re grinding yourself desperately on him but hey, he’s not complaining. 

his hands smooth around your covered thighs after, lingering between the crease of your legs before he releases your lips.

“i’m surprised you’re wearing leggings, you hate it” 

“it’s cold”

“explains the sweatshirt too” he muses, one hand tugging the baggy sleeve of your white tour sweatshirt with both his aliases on your chest.

his heart warms seeing it on you, the way you’re proudly wearing him even though this whole thing between you and them still remains a secret. his hands creep underneath your top, caressing your sides that hasten your roll against his crotch.

you lean in to kiss Yoongi once more but he grabs your sides, stopping you.

“want it off though” he whispers, the mischief in his eyes shifts to a demanding one.

his darkening orbs are looking straight into yours, making you squirm against him. you didn’t waste any time at once, taking off both your sweatshirt and your bra in a frenzy, much to Yoongi’s satisfaction.

you’d know with that cocky look resurfacing on his pretty face.

now that you’re bare in front of him, Yoongi can see your crotch rubbing along the top of his denim zippers. he could watch you like this, let you get off on your own until you cum like he’s done many times but he relents.

lately, he’s been so busy with the tour preparation that he missed seeing you this needy. he reaches down to cup your pussy, not surprised to find you drenched knowing how easy it is for you to get wet. 

you squirm at his touch, trying to get more friction by rubbing your swollen clit on the buckle of his belt. he knows it's you silently wanting his fingers to help you get off but his hand abruptly leaves you.

frustration looms on your face, your lips turning into a frown but Yoongi grabs your body closer and instantly latches his mouth on your tits, earning a surprised shriek from you.

“yoongi!” 

you didn’t mean to be loud but with how Yoong’s been licking your pebbled nipples and occasionally nibbling them, you’re starting to forget that there are still people outside the door who can hear you both.

one hand of yours takes a handful of his messy jet-black hair, pushing his face more into your chest. he groans and continues to nip around one tit while his other hand plays around your neglected breast.

kneading and pinching nonstop, you’re unable to hold in the whiny moans coming out of you as your other hand grips his shoulder. you’re relishing it, the rough feeling of callous fingers against your now-swollen nipples. 

taking a glance down at Yoongi, you notice how wet he is. he's drenched in sweat but my fuck does he look even hotter when he does. his mouth releases your peppered breasts, opting to fondle your clothed pussy this time.

“don’t tell me you’ve been wet since the first song” he teases and you look away from his heated gaze. he got his answer when he felt your cunt twitch through your clothed core. rough pads of his fingers rub you faster, more of your slickness seeping through your leggings to his hands.

he was clad in all black earlier, one of your favourites so he wasn’t that surprised.

“yoongi..” you’re panting, almost begging him with the way you're gripping his hair and shoulders. you need him to do something, anything more than teasing at this point. 

it surprises you when Yoongi grabs the empty glass of Henny that you put aside on the table earlier, taking the ice to his mouth and he’s back to assaulting your breasts. he rolls the ice cube with his tongue around your nipples, making you shiver at the cold and wet sensation.

you’re whimpering, legs shaking as the band on your lower abdomen threatens to snap with how Yoongi’s cold and wet fingertips fondling your core. the multiple stimulations are pushing you nearer to your orgasm. you’re not sure if he’s aware or not, if this was his plan all along.

“..oh fuck” 

“hmm?” 

“yoongi..i don’t.. wanna cum in this” 

you cry, eyes mustering your neediest look towards him, hoping he’ll listen to your pleas. and Yoongi did, his hand leaving your drenched pussy and mouth releasing your breast. relief courses through you, smiling at him despite the uncomfy feeling of your leggings sticking to your core.

“of course, you don’t, always wanting to cream my cock” 

he doesn’t say it in a mocking manner, the hint of adoration coming forward within his hooded eyes. you get off of him once his hands release you, quickly shimmying down your leggings while he unbuckles his baggy pants and boxers.

you didn’t miss him whipping out a condom from his front pocket, making you suspicious with your arms now crossed over your chest. 

“and why-”

“you’re here and i did remember you love being fucked anywhere”

he answers right away and your face morphs in shame, arms sliding down to your elbows, revealing your breasts again to Yoongi.

you hate being paranoid like this though you know he’s always been prepared. and he’s right, you do love it when they fuck you anywhere they like whether it be on the venue, in their vans or in their hotel rooms. 

it’s one of your favourites when you join them on tours before.

“yoon–..” you try but he beckons you closer and helps you back onto his lap, kissing you right away and ignoring your protests because he knew right away what you were gonna say.

“none of that hmm? lemme get you ready”

he took himself out and put on the condom already before his hands skitter around your inner thighs.

“no” 

he quirks a brow at you, wanting to make sure if that's what you want. even though you’re stark naked figure’s been enticing him to just fuck it and ruin you like you’ve been begging for, he's been a pro at controlling himself to prepare you.

huffing before wrapping your hands around his neck, you squeeze his nape as an answer. 

you just want him inside you and you don’t wanna wait anymore.

a smirk graces Yoongi's face at your impatience before helping your body up to grind on him again.

now rubbing your bare pussy against his dick, you enjoy watching him seethe with each friction. your hips circle until his swollen tip catches your entrance, pausing just to tease him. one of his hands scrambles to grip your hip and you chuckle before lifting yourself, grabbing his dick and lowering slowly.

“fuck,fuck,fuck” 

you watch Yoongi close his eyes, a plethora of curses coming out from his mouth. you’re whimpering in return, pussy walls fluttering around him to try to accommodate his thick girth.

“big..fuck, yoongi” you cry, tears threatening to well in your eyes. 

you love the feeling though and he knows it but Yoongi still tries to comfort you, roaming his veiny hands around your body till he reaches your breasts.

you start moving your hips slowly, planting your hands against his clothed chest as you try to take more of him. his hands fly on both sides of your waist, feline eyes also watching you while you’re slowly adjusting to him.

“more..” he grunts, prompting you to go faster as he tightens his grip on your waist. you try to roll your hips faster then deeper until you bottomed down.

pausing for a bit, you couldn’t help but lean in and whine against his clothed shoulder with how his cock’s filling you deliciously. 

he has other plans though, releasing a deep groan after you unconsciously clenched around him. he starts fucking up to you, pouring all that adrenaline rush coursing through his bloodstream. 

a loud moan escapes you when he finds that soft spot, causing you to pull back and again note the cocky smirk emerging on his handsome face.

“yoongi..fuck” 

“shhhh”

he silences you with a finger on his puckered lips, hips bucking up to you faster while he repeatedly hits that spongy spot again.

you struggle but you wanna be good for him so you close your eyes and force yourself to keep your moans in. it results in you gasping instead, small whimpers still escaping you with how magnified everything feels. 

“you listen really well baby” amusement laces Yoongi’s tone, eliciting deep moans after when you clamp around him with the praise. his groans spur you to ride him faster but you’re starting to feel the burn on your legs.

he must’ve felt you slowing down cause you found him grinning once you reopened your eyes. gritting your teeth, you dig your nails into Yoongi’s clothed shoulders and call his name in a whimper, biting your lip to hold back your release but his praise makes you crumble.

"yeah? come on __" he gauges you, kissing you at once to swallow the moans that you couldn’t keep in once you reach your peak.

he slows down his pace, letting you ride your own high as his mouth peppers your jaw then later your neck with kisses. his hands continue to caress your naked body until they reach down on your ass.

you let out a surprised yelp when he squeezes them hard, causing you to grip his damp hair once he starts fucking up to you again. 

calling your name with a deep groan, you whimper by his ear in response as he chases his release. he’s relentless with his fucking, groping your ass nonstop until you feel him explode in the condom.

you do miss it when he fills you up but you both can’t risk anything while he’s still on tour.

“shit..” he chuckles after releasing you, pushing his hair back with a satisfied look on his face but it shortly disappears when he notices the small tears in your eyes.

“was i too rough?” he worries but you shake your head. 

“you know i love it” you reply with a quick peck to his now perplexed face. he doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue. 

“i just got emotional..you know” 

a small smile of relief breaks into Yoongi’s face, stroking your naked back while you’re both coming down from your highs. 

“i’m glad you’re here” he whispers, kissing your forehead. you don’t fucking know why you're suddenly emotional but it could be because of oxytocin flowing through you right now.

“the seesaw acoustic made me cry” you sniff, nuzzling Yoongi's clothed chest that’s a bit damp now, mixed with sweat and your tears but neither of you mind it.

“why? the lyrics still?” 

he did remember you crying after hearing it for the first time years ago, the lyrics being the sole reason of it.

“it’s just.. i don’t know, it reminds me of when you guys were touring before” you admit, melancholy in your voice while you reminisce watching his solo performance during their last world tour as a group. 

“thank you” he pauses, looking away from you. “for staying with us after all these years”.  he takes your hand and plays with it as he says those words.

you adore this side of Yoongi and now you feel bad for doubting him earlier. meeting them years ago and staying this entire time meant a lot of hardships that you went through together with the rest of his members.

“i miss all of you together” you give Yoongi a quick peck on his heated cheeks before giggling, all the sadness gone at the sight of him blushing. he sits up right away and grabs your face to do the same on your lips before lifting your body off of him.

“you see each of them all the time more than i do, i’m jealous”

he gets up, pulling off the used rubber before picking up your clothes that he threw around earlier. he emerges in front of you after, wet wipes in his hand as he parts your sore legs.

“who knows, maybe me and Jimin will drop by” 

he stops, letting out a snort and you raise a brow at him, mind suddenly alert to the possibility.

“he’s coming right?” 

“idk babe” he’s got that teasing smile and you wanna cry. 

“yoonggiiiii..”

“is this why you came here?”

“no” 

you’re back to sulking because the boys won’t tell you anything either. it’s something they’ve all kept a secret cause even Jimin won’t budge earlier when you tried to get the answer from him during pillow talk. 

however, Yoongi surprises you amidst your sulking when his head’s suddenly between your legs, licking up a stripe of your swollen folds, causing you to whine at the sensitivity.

he knows you’re tired so he stops your hand from grabbing his damp hair.

 “later” he mutters, licking his glistened lips as he wipes your pussy. 

you didn’t reply, still lying down on the couch while trying to put your bra, panties and leggings back on. getting up would be impossible so you wanna stay on the couch for a bit to cool down.

“i wanna surprise everyone okay? and you’re always on stan twitter”

he gives up, grinning at you with that adorable gummy smile before grabbing another glass of whiskey on the table. 

then instead of wearing it back, you throw your merch shirt at him.

“YOU GET DEETS BECAUSE OF ME” you yell, earning a deep chuckle from Yoongi.

then he pulls out his phone and takes a picture of you, sending it to your group chat with a thumbs up caption. the others surprisingly replied immediately, with Jimin responding with a wink emoji.

oh they will pay for this.

e/n: it's been a long time lmao how are y'all? btw i wrote this during those two days and haven't opened it in almost a year now so 😂

[elklounge]

Werewolf Lore Book found in The Quarry Game

Okay, where do I start? A few days ago I was playing The Quarry and trying to get screenshots of Travis. However, while in the Hackett House, I saw this book. I was curious if it said anything. Part of me wondered if it was just gibberish since the player can't really see it and it would just be for dressing the set and making the room look full. However, as I squinted I realized it said Curse of the Moonlight. I began to try multiple different methods to read the two pages of text. I couldn't find it in the game files and searching book didn't get me anywhere. However after some clipping and eye strain through using my glasses as a magnifying glass. Maybe this has already been discovered if so that's okay. I still just wanted to point this out. I am unsure which character was reading this. I want to say Chris Hackett since there are cigarettes present and the only other time I've seen them is in Chris' office as he smokes.

The text reads as the following:

Before the creation of the curse more than 23,000 years ago, the people of the old town, recognized the presence of an evil spirit, which successfully escaped from hell, broke all the spells which imprisoned it since the initial establishment of the Earth. Mankind had been struggling to fight and hopelessly defend themselves before the cruelty and the brutal behaviour of the beast. Finally, through all the tears and bloods, prayers and desperation, mankind lost to the creature and vanished. However, becasue of the vital impact and the destructive damage the conflict resulted, the Mother of Nature abandoned it from the ground, kept it in captivity under thousands of earth layers, for million of years.

The curse is supposed to be timeless. But unfortunately, some unconscious individuals summoned the beast with a deadly ancient magics and spells. Following the guide of the devils, they were forced to wake the monster from the deepest place that the humanity may ever know. Hence, every night when the moon shines the brightest, it will rise and hunt for human lives, as many as he can find, as much as he can fulfill the hunger through so many years, just until the sun rises to the fullest. And that became the story, which is then conveyed and spreaded from ears to ears, about this enigmatic forest.

Once upon a time, there was one said every journey is always full of unexpectancies and moreover, inevitable incidences. Stories have been told through centuries and decades, from villages to towns, from the elder to the youth. But not as the generations pass by or as the time fades, the curse has never been once broken. Whenever the reading is started, the moon will shine and the untamed creature will be released from your worst nightmare. Danger is triggered. And death follows.

Now, one is here in this place, reading these ambiguous is and wondering about everything. But he did not even noticed the wind has begun to blow harder and colder. The surroundings are frozen, not because of the weather, but due to one thing which is coming for the thirst of blood. The shelter is no longer a place to settle. It is now a deadly hunting area, dangerous obstacles, damaged constructions and mysterious blood stains.

In every step he takes, the traces will stay to wait for the beast. Like the last footprint he left during the last moment of his life. His scream will not be heard and his prayers will not be granted. He may survive but the terrified soul will last forever. His curiosity was the cause of the unfortunate event. And now he has to pay the bloody price and no savior would come to rescue.

Every moment he has now is priceless and vital. His life and the journey of survival depends on how he uses his last breaths. Which means now is the time that he needs to start to run.

My most insane attempt to read it which got me 2/3s of the way down the first page.

[loveerran]

Deliverance for the Captives

I recently attended a ward that was different than any other ward I have ever attended before. It was located near a prison and comprised mostly of men who were either currently incarcerated or previously released. They met in a warehouse conference room. Folding chairs were set up in a fan shape, pointed toward a podium. On the week I attended, they were having a testimony meeting. I arrived a bit late and took a chair a friend was saving for me just as the testimonies were beginning.

An LDS testimony meeting can be a real cultural experience. Everyone is welcome. A typical testimony meeting involves members taking turns standing up and delivering whatever words are in their heart to the entire congregation. Testimonies may be a minute long or considerably more. The entire program is completely free form and open to all the unexpected moments such a format suggests. Sometimes testimonies are brief and focused on a witness of Jesus Christ. Other times, they delve into personal experiences or provide the congregation with an impromptu lesson from the speaker. And there are, occasionally, some that are quite memorable and depart from the typical formulas entirely. It’s a uniquely Mormon event, and you really should consider attending one just for the experience (you can sit in back and not participate, and they are typically held on the first Sunday of each month).

In this particular meeting, a man who had spent decades behind bars spoke encouragingly to the others. We also heard the story of a homeless man living in a park and dealing with police issues. The US incarcerates a lot of individuals, and most have significant difficulty finding work and putting their lives together after release. Almost all the speakers were men, though two were women.

The testimony that stood out to me the most came from a wonderful sister who was married to someone who had spent time in prison. She followed up with more wonderful thoughts a bit later as we sat in a lesson together. The two messages touched my heart and have been coming back to me ever since. This is how I have been remembering them:

1. During the testimony meeting, she spoke to the men about living with ‘the jail that is in your head’. She talked about how they carry with them the burden of their own negative self-perceptions and how this holds them back from believing they can heal and re-integrate, holds them back from realizing who they are as children of loving Heavenly Parents and from becoming who they and their families want them to become. She also spoke of how the negative beliefs and judgments of others hurt us and bind us down. Christ came to set the prisoners free. Part of becoming free is realizing that the past does not dictate all that is possible in the future for us. Christ wants to free us from the chains of negative self-perception and the shame and fear we inherit from the world around us when they see us as something other than children of God.

2. In a later class she spoke again. This time she talked about her own situation. How hard it was to have a husband who was in prison. She spoke of a box of expectations, and how she placed in this box all the things that had been part of how her life was supposed to go, and all the accomplishments and milestones she had expected to experience along the way: college, marrying a returned missionary, living happily ever after, and so on. Instead, her box had blown up, just fallen apart in tatters. As she lived through that, she learned that the love of God exists outside of boxes. God works powerfully, even in lives that don’t seem to fit the mold of conventional expectations.

Some people who read this may be offended by the idea of these men attending church. They may want to focus on the fact that these men are criminals who have done bad things and hurt others. They may want to continue ostracizing and isolating them or avoid interacting with and seeing them at all. Those are natural feelings, and I do not expect and am not calling for the victims of these men to forgive or embrace them. However, they are still human beings. They are still children of God. They are still in need of redemption. Christ called on us to minister to those in need, including those in prison – physically or otherwise. Our prophet has encouraged “each of us to reach out to ‘the one’ in our lives who may be feeling lost or alone”. Mercy and the enduring love of Jesus Christ can be difficult topics.

After that meeting, I found myself feeling glad these men had this place to gather, a place to seek healing and fellowship, a place to express their desire to do good and become better, a place to work on their hope for putting off the sins of the past and becoming reborn and redeemed through the atonement of Jesus Christ. I was glad that their families, and those who still love them and want them to heal, could join them there. And I thought about how Jesus might embrace and welcome them if they ever attended His ward, regardless of where it was.

[flownwrong]

chaotic ckr c6d squee propaganda (?) post

This, started half a year ago for @ds30below, was initially a general c6d short reviews post but kinda skewed majorly towards CKR's repertoire and wasn't too review-y. So I gave up on making sense and on including the non-CKR works. I don't know who the audience for this is, because I never give basic details for people who don't know about this stuff but say too much for those who do. I giffed what I could and tried to avoid what I know a lot about but haven't actually seen. Here goes.

Frank's Cock (1993)

Not much to say. It's only 8 minutes, it's beautiful and you should see it if you haven't. I won't spoil the subject, but you can likely guess. Watch it, cry a little. Then go watch some more of Mike Hoolboom's stuff, the vimeo link above is from his channel.

Two X-Files episodes (1994 – 1995)

Well, I haven't actually seen X-files since I was about fifteen and watched the like two seasons, and I remember none of it. I rewatched the two early episodes CKR appears in and they were fun. I did not watch the, the movie or whatever where he's doing the evil gay thing. But really, this one is on the list so I can show you this self-indulgent gif of him being Very Long:

Double Happiness (1994)

You shouldn't watch this one for CKR. I mean, you absolutely should see him here, looking like he's barely out of his teens and playing up the insecure act and having devastating chemistry with devastatingly beautiful Sandra Oh, but this is not why it's great. And it's really, really great. It's touching and funny and sincere. If you wanna have some feels about complicated family relationships and identity and growing up (at any point in life), you'll find them here.

Curtis's Charm (1995)

Don't regret watching it, can't recommend. Not gonna lie, I was emotionally affected. But I usually am by things as in-your-face bleak as this. Mostly, it's trying very hard to be smarter than it is, I think.

However: CKR's One Wild Curl is everything to me (see above, on the right. It was, like, actually curly. I was rendered speechless). And like two seconds of Hugh Dillon made me do a double-take, lol. Incredibly weird knowing this was shot like half a year before HCL began shooting. Feels like it must've been a decade earlier.

Hard Core Logo (1996)

I could make three separate posts about this one, so of course I have no idea what to say.

This one, you should watch for CKR, actually, he's something, but so is every single other aspect of this film. I wouldn't change a thing about it. It hits you like a 16 wheeler. Perfectly cast, unimaginably beautiful, hysterical and melancholy and disgusting and compelling.

Related recs:

A wonderfully fun article/retrospective/interview for its 20th anniversary a while back.

You should also absolutely read Hard Core Roadshow if you enjoyed the film. It's a book documenting the whole thing from conception to release. It touched me for its own sake, not just a backstage glance, full of love for the craft and the people and carrying this tangible bittersweetness about the heightened and fleeting nature of this kind of work.

(here, I feel compelled to include a quote from another c6d-related interview on Slings & Arrows, which I read after the book and went like man, it's really a universal experience isn't it.

Coyne: <...> But I also think, and this is my experience, what we were all experiencing, because we were all talking about our lives, our life in the arts — there’s something very melancholy about doing something you love, because it will never be good enough, it will always break your heart.

McKinney: Or it will be fleeting.

Coyne: It’ll be fleeting. You come together with people you feel passionately connected to and two weeks later they’re tearing down the sets.)

Quotes from the article and the book respectively include:

McDonald: So there was a kind of mutual dependency society with Hugh telling Callum, “Don’t worry, man, I got your back, I’ll tell you how high or low to wear your guitar, I’ll tell you how you should dress, I’ll tell you what you should drink…” and Callum was like, “I’ll tell you what hitting your mark is, I’ll tell you why they pull out fucking tape measures, I’ll tell you why you have to do it again, I’ll tell you about not overlapping dialogue..” and you know they clung to each other, like the other one was gonna fucking save them.

And:

A final gathering at the back of the tour bus with Bruce, Callum, Hugh, Bernie. We listen to the tape of HCL songs, all the way through, one last time. And we belt the words out. Bernie sings loudest, performing for Salerno's camera. Hugh and Callum sit back, looks of sadness. I get the sense that if they could do it, they'd chuck their lives and be Joe Dick and Billy Tallent forever. Callum leans to Bruce and says exactly what everyone else is thinking: "I don't want it to end."

There's much more to both texts than *gestures* the whatever those two had, but it certainly doesn't hurt.

And Xeriscape is the best HCL fic I've read. Granted, I read very few because it's not a source that creates in me a craving for fic. But this one perfectly matches the film's fucked up beauty with its language while also adding a quieter, more fraught layer of humanity that we only get glimpses of in canon and that perfectly fits John. 10/10, would recommend.

Anyway. Watch it. Read it. If you haven't. Otherwise, come scream with meeee! And go reblog my gifs or something. Idk.

Letters From Home (1996)

Mike Hoolboom strikes again, with another short. This goes into the "don't watch it for CKR, watch it because it's great" box. Yes, you will cry.

For Those Who Hunt The Wounded Down (1996)

Another bleak one! It sucked to watch, I mean, on purpose. There were a couple of very effective scenes. I really enjoyed the opening. They say the book is decent too, I haven't checked that out.

Actually, let's just switch back from coherent thought to undignified staring at his mouth with this one. What the fuck is that cigarette thing. I couldn't help myself.

Last Night (1998)

These gifs are not representative of the whole movie. There is more happening than CKR kissing or hugging people. He's also doing more than just kissing and hugging. It's all very... impressive.

Guess who's also here again? Sandra Oh! And say hi to Don McKellar, who is an absolute champion for writing/directing/starring. You'll be seeing more of him.

Another one for the "watch it for its own sake" box. Seriously, that late 90s indie stuff is banger after banger. It's so beautiful! Look at those colours! Look at those shots! It's very uneasy and charming and melanchioly and itself in the best way.

Twitch City (1998 – 2000)

Don McKellar is back to murder you with discomfort! Bruce McDonald lends a hand. Molly Parker is also here. And Daniel McIvor, who'd go on to direct, for example, Wilby Wonderful. It's a party. If you watched some stuff from above (or below) on this list, most faces and names will be familiar to you, tbh (another Hugh Dillon double-take happens).

If you liked Spaced, you'll love this. You might also love it because it commits to its weirdness with an admirable resolve and is genuinely hilarious. (Honestly, CKR's outfits alone warrant a watch.) The idiosyncrasy is definitely Don McKellar's doing 200%. It couldn't be more different from Last Night, but if you've seen one, you'll recognise the other.

Battlestar Galactica (2003 – 2009)

I don't think a person should be allowed to look this pretty in the sweaty-and-dying makeup in that light (this sentence probably looks very weird to those not under the CKR magic spell).

I don't know what to say about BSG because I really, really enjoyed early it initially, but by the middle of S2 it got... well, whatever that was. If you know you know, if you don't, still give it a go. You might get invested enough to suffer through it all, as I have been, slowly.

The unfortunate thing is that CKR got to be there mostly in the "what the fuck" years and not the "wow that's so cool" years. That, as you might be aware, is a pattern with him. But! When he was here, he was so genuinely, wonderfully creepy not in the typecast-baddy way, but in this slow, half-absent way, which really worked. You can also see him tortured a little, as a treat!! <3

Also, a wild John Pyper-Ferguson appears! If you're looking at him thinking you know him from somewhere but not immediately remembering, you'll figure it out, I believe in you. I was very happy to see him.

Wilby Wonderful (2004)

Another win for the put CKR in more good shit team!!! Guess who's here again? Sandra Oh! Also, Paul Gross. Don't watch it for him either though haha.

Another one for whoever wants to look at pushing against the weight of others' (or your own) expectations and growing into who you are or reconsidering who you are or finding meaningful connections with others even when you're kind of a mess and they are too.

Not nearly the first time CKR's gotten to play a queer character, but man, this one really is the heart of the in-universe community, and, through that, of the film. A rare chance to see him so far out of the prickly persona! He's just so solid and calm and there for others in this one and, and soft, ough. It's awesome.

By the way, if any of you have the commentary track or know someone who has, please drop me a line here or on discord (emotionalrisotto), I really wanna hear that.

Supernatural (2005)

I love Supernatural a lot. It was a formative experiences (albeit a very late one) and I owe a lot of my favourite stuff about fandom-ing to the buddies I met through it. I can't believe I'm telling you this (because who hasn't seen it, not because I'm reccing it), but you should really try it if you haven't. It's pretty rad.

I had no idea who this guy was when I saw that episode (the second ever one!), though. I simply cannot fathom what @nigeltde-fic felt when she first saw it. I think I personally got very lucky she didn't combust on the spot. It would've been unfortunate.

On a sillier note, CKR's character has weird tension with both Sam and Dean in this episode, which is par for the course. I personally think they should've... no, I shan't say it. You can probably imagine.

Californication (2008 – 2013)

I haven't actually seen it, lol (and I suspect I won't enjoy it, but I'm very curious and also CKR looks really really good).

The real reason for this one on the list is to share a fic rec. Really, it's a due South F/K fic featuring Lew Ashby. It's ridiculously hot and very satisfying in its romantic resolution, too (but then, I'm kind of big on selfcest. And consensual voyeurism. And pretend relationships when done like this. And sublimated yearning. Erm.)

Shattered (2010 – 2011)

I wish this never happened. I badly, badly wish this never happened. I can't turn back time, but I can warn those luckier than me: do not go there. Yes, even for this dude. You'll sleep better not knowing just what it is he was the EP on. And the only important part — the mascara — can be seen above (yes, the show does look that bad, it's not just the gifs).

Just kidding — I watched it, didn't I? You'll have fun hating it! Just prepare for industrial grade cringe, lower your expectations (No, lower. No, still lower than that. And just a bit more.) and you'll have a great time!

Star trek: Discovery (2024)

Or, as I call it, Star Trek: The Mediocre Show. Discovery S5 was... what it was, but it was a wonderful viewing experience — mostly thanks to the gang (@kittkatk and @feroxargentea especially!)

What a joy it is, to follow a show week by week, yelling and laughing and discussing the whole time. And giffing, too. I was very happy to contribute to the Disco fandom from my own little obsessive corner, and I was glad to see people adoring Rayner, haha.

He's a pretty neat character — very much a stereotype, yes, but with CKR's usual twist of odd vulnerability and weirdness. Also, I loved the ears. I miss the ears. The ears were great.

I even wrote a fic! Although it's not within my usual range to write for canons and universes I don't know well — and back then, I'd only seen S5 of Disco. It was a lot of suffering, and a lot of fun.

Closing thoughts

I'd really love the dude to get a better agent. And possibly better taste, but I realise that's a tougher ask. Seriously, it's been too long since he was in something majorly cool. I'm grateful to him, at least, for not making terrible music on the side. And I still have a lot of his back catalogue to get through, some of it even good, so there will be more insanity. Until then!

[k-s-morgan]

Why did Will reject Hannibal after Muskrat farm? I see a few justifications saying that Will was tired after Hannibal almost eats his brain and is fucked up by Mason, but that doesn’t seem reason enough.

Will also talks about the rejection when he visits Hannibal in TWOTL, saying Hannibal would only turn himself in if Will rejected him. What was Will’s intent here?

Hi! So, this is a very complex arc that has many interpretations. This is how I see it - and I'll start from the start of S3 because it's important to keep track of the change of Will's attitudes.

In the first several episodes, Will is operating under the knowledge that Hannibal loves him, and his emotions come to the surface more openly. He can't and doesn't want to move on: the first thing he does upon waking up is voicing his pain at Hannibal leaving him to die, then berating himself for lying to him, then realizing Hannibal left him alive deliberately and that he wants to be found. Will begins to analyze their conversations and quickly figures out where he should go to look for him. After being released from the hospital, he starts building a boat to travel to Hannibal by sea. The nature of this action is romantic by itself - also, this scene is intercut with his Mizumono memories, namely, with Hannibal's face that emerges every time he moves yet another part of the engine. This is a vivid demonstration of Will trying to repair what is now broken. He openly admits to Jack that he wanted to run away with Hannibal.

Similarly, Will spends some time sitting in Hannibal's empty house. He is pining hard, his feelings are so intense that he no longer even bothers to hide them from Alana and Jack. The whole E2 is Will's love letter to Hannibal - he's reverent about him, he thinks about him non-stop, and he tries to find him very hard, even literally chasing him down. He even lies at the place where Hannibal left him his "broken heart," as if needing closer physical contact.

Things begin to shift as Will meets Chiyoh. I feel like Will starts drawing comparisons between them and comes to a conclusion that Hannibal doesn't love him after all. That if he abandoned Chiyoh, whom he was supposed to love, so easily, for so many years, without bothering to return to her, then maybe he's just not capable of love. Will's torn now, wondering if he was mistaken about Hannibal's feelings as well as about his and Abigail's importance because if Hannibal left his family so easily once, who’s to say he wouldn’t do it again? Will is insecure by nature, he often doubts himself, and textually, that's the first time when he starts considering killing Hannibal again. Seeing Bedelia as his replacement just reinforced this idea, so Will returned to his bitter and vengeful state, hence his half-attempt with a knife in Dolce.

After Hannibal reacts to this attempt by trying to (half-heartedly) saw Will's head open, and then the whole disaster with Mason happens, it all becomes a breaking point for Will. The initial excitement and determination he felt have passed. He has grown disillusioned, bitter, hurt and hurtful once again. He's tired, he's no longer certain of anything, and he needs to re-retreat. It's similar to how people often feel a boost of energy to do something daring, but at some point, they lose this spark. They stop feeling like they could move the mountains, and Will feels it, too.

He rejects Hannibal because of this, as I see it. He doesn't know what he wants again, he isn't sure Hannibal loves him, and he's no longer willing to break the fragile, shattered semblance of normalcy he has been cultivating for decades. He's clinging to what he's used to instead of jumping head on into something new and mysterious, even if it's much more exciting. Will has no strength for excitement and passion right now.

I never quite bought that Will knew for sure that Hannibal would give himself up if he rejected him. Yes, Will was probably lying when saying he wanted everything to be over, and maybe on a subconscious level, he hoped for some grand proof of love, but I don't think he could be actually sure that something like this would happen. For one thing, Hannibal's response is genuinely unexpected - just in Mizumono, he gutted Will after his betrayal; in Dolce, he attempted to kill him after Will betrayed him again. Giving himself up is something new - Hannibal has grown a lot during these months and days, but Will doesn't know it. Also, I don't think Will is nearly confident enough about his place in Hannibal's life to predict that Hannibal would give up his freedom for him. In addition, he just strikes me as surprised and pained when he sees Hannibal's surrender.

So, maybe Will was thinking about it a lot afterward, and during that moment in prison, he wanted to hurt Hannibal, so he exaggerated the depth of his manipulation.

If this is the case, then why did Will want to hurt Hannibal at all later? In my opinion, it's for several reasons. Will is feeling extremely petty. He's hurting Hannibal just because he can - he now fully realized the power he holds over him, and he's enjoying it. He's paying him back for everything he's still angry and hurt over. It's possible that he's also playing it up for the cameras, making Jack and Alana believe that he's leaving for good and wants nothing to do with Hannibal. That would make his break out plan easier. He lies not just to Hannibal here, he lies to everyone who's watching. He claims he had nothing to do with setting up Chilton, even though he took the responsibility for him with Bedelia; he claims he's going back to Molly, even though they broke up.

[awhumpityblog]

So I have the flu, and naturally I have thoughts because I have experienced many new things today.

Mandatory warning for flu related topics. I am tHINKING. I'll put the contents beneath a read more thing.

So for starters, I threw up for the first time in over a decade. There are things that I don't see writers think about in sickfics; throwing up makes your ribs hurt so much! Like, that's the main sensation I noticed. Beyond releasing my freshly consumed ibuprofen back out of my stomach, that is. That part also sucks.

And then there's fainting. I have fainted twice this evening, with two very different experiences. The first time, I felt it coming on (different people experience it differently to my knowledge, but for me, I sort of feel almost nauseous but with a certainty it's not gonna be throw up, and my vision sort of unfocusses. Not blurs exactly; I just can't comprehend what I'm looking at beyond what is or is not a suitable object to collapse onto)

So tangent aside, the first time, I got the feeling, immediately declared "TO THE COUCH" because I am the sort to notice sometimes so late I don't have time to warn anyone. I get to the couch which was fortunately just a quick walk away, flop face-first, and promptly black out. That one wasn't so bad. Even managed to start sitting up and having some bland bland pasta a few minutes after.

The second time though. Fainted in the toilet room. Barely had time to move to the floor, just started going and woke up halfway collapsed on the floor, face pressed into the tile with all the weight of my head (and consequently upper body, with how I collapsed and how small that room is) concentrated on my eyebrow piercing. I love that thing, but let me tell you, half your weight balancing on a pair of metal studs being squished against the tile floor, is not exactly comfy.

So now I am sleeping on the couch tonight because you faint twice in one evening, dragging yourself to bed isn't the smartest course of action. Not if you don't want to faint a third time, that is.

Also, this note may be more specific to glasses using whumpees but a surefire way to tell if you really just fainted, is check the lenses. One doesn't tend to faint gracefully, and you tend to end up with massive smudges across, especially on the side of your face that hit the floor or the table or whatever.

I may elaborate on things, I may not, once I'm a little less sickly, and if y'alls have thoughts or notes you want to share when it comes to sickfics or the flu, feel free to add on :)

[ineffabildaddy]

i know this may be obvious to a lot of people, but i thought it was worth saying anyway: i love the good omens fandom because it encourages contribution more than any other popular fandom i've been in.

i'm incapable of being a casual fan of anything. it's just not in my nature. i've been in fandom spaces just over a decade - fandoms related to musicians, books, films and tv shows - and yet i've never been in a fandom that captures, creates, analyses, jokes, and just talks more than this one.

in most of the fandoms i've been in, there's a lot of passive consumption of fan content, which is obviously great and we all do it, but in the good omens fandom, that doesn't seem to make up the majority of our behaviour. in fact, when i got back on tumblr for the first time in 7 years after watching season 2, i had a look around at what the fandom was doing for a day or two and my first thought was: oh god, what if i've got nothing to say? what if i've got nothing to add that hasn't already been added? i immediately felt that i wouldn't truly be part of things if i didn't get stuck in.

if i'm fixated on something or particularly enjoying it at one time, i might wake up in the morning or pick up my phone/laptop thinking, i want to see more, hear more, learn more about this thing. that's still the case with good omens, but with the addition of, how can i contribute today? how can i bring something to the fandom, how can i connect with it, how can i consistently encourage and support the people in it? and that's all because of how artistic, analytical, poetic, humorous but above all enthusiastic all of you are.

the truth is, i'm not at all a confident person. i've got a film degree, i've done stand-up comedy and i've written comedy sketches, i was a popular fanfiction writer for years (hi supernatural fans), and i've shared poetry, too. so, i have got experience in things that could make my contributions to fandom spaces worthwhile (not that you need any particular achievements under your belt). yet usually, the fact that people are doing things that i'm doing infinitely better than me puts me off the idea of doing them at all. so, oftentimes i don't do them, or if i do i put them down immediately and keep them private.

i'm still very much experiencing that feeling since becoming active in the good omens fandom, precisely because there's so much talent and dedication here, but i'm trying to ignore it because it feels like everyone who wants to say something is genuinely valued - especially since people who think differently about aspects of the book and show aren't actually fighting with each other or obsessed with proving they're right, which is quite rare in my experiences of fandoms.

it's been really really refreshing to become an active part of this fandom and i do hope it remains that way as more time elapses since season 2 was released. i have a feeling it will because we've all chosen one of the most wonderful stories of our time to engage with, and the fans' love for it was and is taken more seriously by terry, neil, david and michael than we ever could've hoped for.<3

[ifuckinglovedinosaurssomuchjesus]

On the subject of Dinosaur Documentaries...

So Life On Our Planet dropped a few days ago, another installment of this seeming boom of these kind of shows since Prehistoric Planet last year, and it got me thinking about this whole little niche genre.

The very first "Paleodoc" was released in 1922, made by the Carnegie Museum of Natural History to educate museum goers on how the fossils they saw were collected and prepared. This began the format I like to call the "Talking Heads" Paleodoc which is mainly in the form of interviews or narration over actual footage of Paleontologists at work with the occasional "Live" Dinosaur for visual aid. These are by far the most common form of dinosaur documentary you'll find, even today, mainly because they're cheap to produce and fit in the general style of most science documentaries.

For many decades throughout the 20th century, Paleodocs were pretty rare. They would pop up time to time, and with the sudden influx of attention they got after Jurassic Park, we got some really good ones. Yet they were all the same Talking Head types. What really changed the game was the good ol Magnum Opus of the field: Walking With Dinosaurs.

WWD pioneered the second type of Paleodoc I believe to exist, which are the "In Their World" Paleodocs. These are different in the fact they focus almost entirely on the live visual aids, with the human presence being limited to narration or brief pauses for context. They're meant to simulate the modern nature documentary, like Planet Earth, that focus more on showcasing animal behavior with state of the art filming techniques than being a source of in-depth science.

The success of WWD cannot be overstated, and I have to say I do find the In Their World format a lot more engaging and easier to connect with. They portray the wonder of prehistory spectacularly, letting audiences get emotionally connected in the animal characters the story creates, even if this has lead to criticisms of anthropomorphism. These programs also almost always use real footage of modern day earth for their prehistoric creatures to roam on, which I'm sure is very sad for the people who want to see their favorite dead plants on screen.

The Walking With... series would expand into sequels and spin-offs and Nigel Marven, and other companies like Discovery would jump on the bandwagon and release their own takes on the concept, but by the mid 2010s the format had basically died out. We'd get one or In Their World style doc every few years until we just didn't get anything. Outside of the occasional TV special that reused When Dinosaurs Roamed America footage, it was empty.

It took until Disney's Live Action remake of The Lion King of all things for that pendulum to start swinging again. Seeing those expressionless CGI cats got Jon Favreau thinking about how he could use this technology and the talented people behind it to make something really cool, and we got Prehistoric Planet.

And, in a repeat of Walking With Dinosaurs, we're seeing more of these In Their World type shows. The original guys behind WWD are even making a comeback with their own series, Surviving Earth. Plus even more little hints and rumors of massive incoming projects from overexcited paleontologists trying not to break their embargo.

It looks like the 2020s will be another resurgence in these types of spectacle Paleodocs, and while a good ol Talking Head will always be there, I can't help but get excited for these animated spectacles and all the weird and wonderful ways they flash those visual aids across our TV screens.

[avengerscompound]

Shared Experience - Chapter 3

Shared Experience - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings:  lots of blood talk, i dunno, you’re reading a vampire fic, you should probably expect that.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Rose Astor

Word Count: 2162

Summary:  Rose Astor met her end in 1920, joining the ranks of the living dead two years after the birth of Steve Rogers.  A century later the two meet in battle - a beacon of light clashing with a creature of the night.  Despite their differences, the two bond over their shared life experiences.  Can a vampire become an Avenger?  Can two such different beings create a life together?

Chapter 3

Rose was beginning to feel like a science experiment.

After agreeing to Steve Rogers’ conditions of release - she’d prove to him that she wasn’t a danger to society by joining the Avengers - she was taken to see Bruce Banner and Tony Stark.

They had been poking and prodding at her ever since.

It had started with them taking her blood.  It was always so strange to Rose how slow it flowed when people tried to draw it with a needle.  If she opened her wrist, it gushed from her like a fountain.  She’d seen a vampire beheaded once, and he’d exploded blood on everything within a ten-foot radius.  There had been more blood than vampire or so she had thought at the time.  Yet the few times someone had tried drawing her blood with a needle it had oozed out like molasses.

After they’d taken blood, they’d done a full body scan and then made her run on a treadmill at different speeds and inclinations.  Then they’d tested how long she could hold her breath.  When the time seemed to be infinite, they assumed she must have been cheating somehow and had her stand at the bottom of a tank of water.  When it was clear she didn’t need to breathe, they let her out and allowed her to dry off and change.

They’d given her a bag of blood after that, and she sat sipping it through a straw like it was some kind of macabre Capris Sun, while Bruce and Tony ran some further tests.

“You don't have a blood pressure,” Tony said, looking over the readings as his fingers worried at his beard.  “How can you not have a blood pressure?”

“I'm the living dead?” Rose replied.  “I thought we'd already established that.”

“But you have blood, and your heart does beat.  The blood pumps through your system.  Therefore, you should have a blood pressure.  Even if it was low, it should exist.”

“You’re friends with a god, correct?” Rose said.  “That is to say, you personally know a Norse deity and you're questioning why the vampire doesn't have blood pressure.”

“Thor is a man who owns a hammer that conducts electricity,” Tony argued. “You were born a human and now you don’t have blood pressure.”

“Just like all humans eventually,” she said, taking a sip from the blood bag.

Bruce approached her and began to look at the burn marks on her collarbone and hand.  “You healed from the broken spine.  Why not from these?”

Rose sighed.  It went against every ounce of her nature to tell someone her weaknesses.  But most were out there in the mythos.  It was likely whether she told them or not, they’d try them against her if they ever felt threatened.  Maybe telling them what they were would help build the trust she needed to earn to gain her freedom.  “There are a few things that vampires have trouble recovering from.  Just like everyone else if you cut off our heads, or ram a stake through our hearts it will kill us.  Fire and sunlight will turn us to ash if exposed for too long.  But we heal quickly from most things.  Even from being burned by the sun if we can quickly get to cover.  The exceptions are silver and symbols of faith will burn us, and those scars stick around for decades.”

Both Bruce and Tony were taking notes.  Rose assumed they were keeping track of the things that would hurt or kill her if they needed it.  She had to fight the urge to take them both out now to show them that knowing her weaknesses didn’t make her weak.

When Bruce turned back to her, he took a closer look at the mark on her collarbone.  “So this one was the crucifix Steve used on you,” Bruce said.  “But what about this one?”  He turned her hand over, exposing her blistered palm.

“That was where I caught the shield,” she said.

“But that’s not Christian Iconography,” Bruce said.

“No,” she said with a small shake of her head. “It’s not about Christianity.  It’s about faith.  Crucifixes.  Stars of David.  Those little necklaces in the shape of Thor’s hammer.  Symbols that people believe in.”

“And Cap’s shield falls into that category?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It shocked me too,” she said.  “But it seems that way.”

“Weird,” Tony said.

“Is there anything that will help it heal faster?  Would treating it the way we do burns help?” Bruce asked.

“You could try cutting my hand off, but regrowing bones is a bitch.  Maybe if you took the skin right off?”  she said.  “But I don’t want to go through the pain of that either.  If I eat properly for the next couple of weeks there will be a scar but it will be essentially healed.”  She took a long drink from the bag and held it up, swishing it from side to side.  “This is disgusting, by the way.  It’s like a can of boiled mutton, only it lacks the salt.”

“Well, I’m very sorry our blood isn’t up to your standards,” Tony snarked.  “I’m sure you’re used to the rare AB negative or the blood of virgin royalty.”

“To quote What We Do in the Shadows; ‘If you are going to eat a sandwich, you would just enjoy it more if you knew no one had fucked it.’   But it’s not that,” Rose said.  “Do you know what they do to blood when you donate it?  They pull out all the white blood cells.  Then they separate the plasma from the red blood cells.  Then they wash it.  By the time it’s in here, half of the stuff I need has been taken out.  This is like eating white bread.  It’ll fill me up, but it’s not going to keep me alive.  You do want to keep me alive right?  You don’t want me going feral and draining everyone?  What do you think will happen to me if I drink your blood, Doctor Banner?”

Bruce frowned and his jaw twitched as he tensed up.  “It’s not smart to threaten me like that,” Bruce said. “I don’t always have control of what the Hulk decides is a real threat or not.”

“It’s not a threat, Doctor Banner,” she said.  “The longer I go without eating, the less control I have.  Starve me and I become more and more feral.  A blood lust comes over me and you all just start looking like big juice boxes.  Maybe the Hulk would smash me before I got a taste of your blood, or maybe I’d get a bite in and that bite would be enough to affect me.  Who knows, all that Gamma might be the equivalent of me stepping into sunlight.  Maybe it’ll turn me into a vampire hulk.  Do we want to risk it to find out?”

He sighed and nodded. “I’ll have someone send up some untreated blood.”

“Good news,” she said.  “It doesn’t have to be human”

“Can you die if you’re starved?” Bruce asked.

She shook her head.  “No, we go dormant.  But our bodies will react to things on their own.  If you were to lock me up away from people until I’m dormant, assuming that I can’t beat my way out of it.  If anyone or anything alive gets close enough to me to eat, they’re getting eaten and I won’t be able to do anything to stop myself.”

“All this talk about going feral and blood lust isn’t exactly ingratiating you to us,” Tony said as he started taking some of the wires and probes off her.  “I thought you were supposed to be proving that you weren’t a danger to society.”

“I don’t starve myself in society,” she said.  “Besides, I’m being held here for a potential crime and you’ve been running tests on me against my will.  And you’re starving me.  I’m pretty sure that’s against the Geneva Convention.”

“Lucky for us, the Geneva Convention covers humans,” Tony said.  “And not mythical monsters.”

Rose’s fingers tightened on the metal arms of her chair.  Small dents formed under her grip.

Bruce seemed to pick up on the danger and quickly tried to diffuse the tension.  “You’ve seen What We Do in the Shadows?  Do you watch a lot of vampire movies?”

Rose’s eyes snapped to Bruce, and she let the chair go as she forced herself to relax.  “Yes.  I watch all of them.  And I read books.  I didn’t choose to be what I am.  These stories come from myth and myth comes from reality.  It’s like a game of broken telephone.  I’ve been trying to find if there’s a cure that there’s some truth to.”

“Have you had any luck with that?” Bruce asked.

She shook her head.  “Not really.  There aren’t a lot of movies that talk about curing vampires.  When they do half the time it’s with a magical artifact, and I wouldn’t even know where to start looking for something like that.  Do you assume Dracula is the first Vampire and go to Romania or do you assume Anne Rice knew some shit and try Egypt or France?  The other option stories say is killing your progenitor and trust me, I’ve tried.  I don’t even know where he is now, and even going off those stories, I think I’m too far gone for it to work.”

“That might be something we can help you with,” Bruce said, as he turned to the screen and began typing something in.  “We have a lot of resources, and a god, maybe we can find the things you couldn’t.”

“I’d appreciate the help,” she said, deciding not to mention that they didn’t even know there were vampires until she showed up.

“Is that why you sound like a snarky teenager?  Movies?” Tony asked.

That made Rose snort.   “What did you want me to sound like?” she asked and altered the pitch and inflection in her voice.  “An old-timey radio news reader, talkin’ about the war?”

“I mean, now you’re doing it, yes,” Tony joked.  “Kind of weird that you call it old-timey when it’s from your time period.”

“This is also my time period,” she said.  “And that was a long time ago.  Vampires wouldn’t be particularly successful at staying under the radar if we all went about speaking in dead dialects and using slang nobody’s familiar with.  We have to keep up with dialects.  It’s a survival skill.”

Tony nodded and sat back in his chair, spun around.  “Bruce, you remember when you were at school and there were no vampires or gods and the only monsters were just stories.”

“I do,” Bruce said.  “And then a guy perfected cold fusion in a cave and used it to power a mech.”

Tony laughed.  “Oh, so this is all my fault?”

“I’m not sure,” Bruce teased.  “But I don’t know that it helped.”

As the two men teased each other, Rose began to feel that itch to go to ground again.  She shifted in the chair and rubbed her arms.  “So - I know I haven’t been the best test subject a couple of scientists could want.  But the sun is coming up and if I’m not somewhere enclosed by the time it starts going up, I’m going to start trying to dig a hole through the floor.”

“Really?” Tony asked, sitting up and looking at her.  “I kind of want to see that.”

She raised her eyebrow at him.  “You really don’t give a shit about my well-being do you?”

Bruce got up and gestured to her to follow.  “Come with me.  I’ll take you to your room.”

She followed along after Bruce, holding her arms wrapped around her middle. “I’m sorry we’re keeping you here,” he said.  “And for all the tests.  I know what it’s like to have people look at you like an uncontrollable monster.  And to lose your free will because of it.”

“So let me go,” she said.  “Wouldn’t you have wanted that for yourself?”

Bruce sighed.  “I’ll talk to them.  You need to sleep now, right?  I’ll work on them and we’ll talk tomorrow night.”

“Fine,” she huffed.  “Where are we going?”

Bruce led her to the room.  It was a cell really, but better than the last one.  It was still very bare, but there was a bathroom attached and an actual bed and shelves.  Beside the bed was a long metal box that had been lined with fabric and pillows.  She was grateful they hadn’t just dragged up a coffin.

“Will this do?” Bruce asked.

She nodded.  “Yeah.  That’ll work well.  Thank you.”

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Bruce said.

She nodded and waited for him to leave her alone.  When the door hissed closed behind him she climbed into the box and pulled on the lid.  The itch disappeared and as the sun crept up on the horizon, she lost consciousness.

// NEXT

[winged-wheel]

Undertale's First Hint at Self Denial

Spoilers for Undertale, I guess, but surely if you're reading this you don't need a spoiler warning for this game...

Howdy!

A simple look at my reblogs will indicate that I'm a big fan of Undertale Yellow, at least currently moreso than Undertale itself. But that doesn't mean I don't think about Undertale a good deal too. And while I'm not exactly an extreme lorehead or Chara superfan like some others are (god knows how many blogs there are out there who have THAT covered) I do like to think, sometimes, about the exact nature of Undertale's metanarrative, the themes the game intends for you to take away from it (and the ones that fans have read into it that may not have been intended but which serve as interesting and thought-provoking alternative interpretations), and my own stance on things. Chara/the first fallen human, both who they are (were) and what they represent, makes up a lot of that.

So, context out of the way, I realized something that maybe other people have as well but that I've never actually seen anyone put into words (though it's entirely possible if not probable that I've just missed it before lol).

If Chara, on a metanarrative level, represents you--both through the game's expectation of you to use your own name to "Name the fallen child", but also in a less literal sense your inner desire for completionism, addiction to increasing numbers, disregard for video games as anything more than short-time entertainment to be moved on from, etc--then the image of their final resting place, the patch of golden flowers that grows at the bottom of the fissure outside the Ruins, the very first room in the game, takes on especial meaning with regard to the metanarrative itself.

Undertale's metanarrative choice that it gives you, to either treat the game and its characters as real, deserving of respect, and worth being let go of to allow them continued freedom after completing a true pacifist route, or to lean into what Chara embodies and treat it as "just another RPG game", grinding for levels as would be "normal" in so many other worlds until you reach the Absolute, is a well understood one more than 9 years on from the game's release. None of that is probably news to anyone (or at least anyone who's cared to try and understand the game lol).

But it never quite struck me until now that the former--the choice to treat Undertale as "real"--is symbolized by Chara's grave. In order to do that, to care about and respect Undertale's characters so much that you're willing to forego almost all the concessions of a normal RPG, and ultimately content yourself with refusing to True Reset after the credits roll, you have to bury that part of yourself. You have to kill the desire within you to see what happens if you level up. To get stronger. Those learned traits and tendencies which have been established as the expectation by decades of video games past, even if you didn't grow up playing them yourself, have to be interred in the very first room of the game.

I'll draw no ultimate conclusions as to what that means literally with regards to Toriel and Asriel's attachment to tending the flowers there, and certainly none in relation to the direct characterization of Chara as a character within the story itself, as details are notoriously vague, few in number, and tend to produce interpretations that vary wildly from one another and, from some, have the potential to engender feelings of distaste or assumptions about others' "understanding" of characters (or perceived lack thereof). But the metaphorical significance of Undertale's first room being a burial site was something I hadn't quite considered on a conscious level until recently, and I feel like it might at least be an interesting thought to share.

'Til next time...

[black-arcana]

EPICA Releases New Single 'Arcana'

Dutch symphonic metal titans EPICA have released a brand new single, "Arcana". The track heralds a new chapter in EPICA's two-decade-long history and marks the band's first new release since the group's chart-topping 2021 album "Omega" and the collaboration EP "The Alchemy Project". It offers a glimpse into the band’s future music, coming in 2025.

EPICA comments: "'Arcana' guides you through the universal stages of spiritual evolution in life. It leads the way to a higher consciousness and spiritual self-awareness.

"Writing this song was a spontaneous effort, so it came together quickly, which felt so natural that it wrote itself. The music contains classic EPICA elements but has some vibes that might remind you of '80s alternative rock or modern metal."

The single is now available on all streaming platforms. It also includes "The Ghost In Me (Danse Macabre)", EPICA's recently released collaboration with Europe's second-most visited theme park, Netherlands's magical De Efteling, and their much-anticipated new attraction, Danse Macabre.

The music video for "Arcana", directed by Remko Tielemans, can be seen below.

In a recent interview with Spain's Mariskal Rock, EPICA singer Simone Simons spoke about the progress of the recording sessions for the follow-up to "Omega" album. She said: "I think that there should be a single by the end of the summer-ish. That's that's our plan. And the album should be released [in] 2025.

"I just wrote with Mark [Jansen, guitar] and Rob [Van Der Loo, bass] also yesterday that I'm so happy with the songs, I'm so proud how everything turned out and it's gonna be another amazing EPICA album.

"We added a couple of new elements, but also went back to the roots, the old EPICA," she continued. "And yeah, I just can't wait for people to hear this.

"I loved 'Omega' and we toured so much with 'Omega' and had wonderful experiences, but then when you reach the end of a touring cycle, you start to get itchy and feel, 'Okay, now it's time to do the new album. Can we do it as good or maybe even better than the last album?' That's always the thing we strive for, ways to renew ourselves a little bit. And we feel a very strong spiritual connection also that it's our ninth album. So there's gonna be themes around the symbolic meaning of nine, the number nine."

Elaborating on the musical direction of EPICA's next album, Simone said: "The songs are heavy. There's a beautiful ballad, a very cinematic song, very uptempo, very doomy, melancholic and amazing, amazing power riffs. It's the most epic EPICA, I think, so far. Yeah, I think so. I mean, I'm feeling it. I'm very happy with it. I'm proud of it. And they are going to start recording the orchestra now next week. They're flying to Prague; that's where we record the orchestra. And I will be recording my final vocals as well."

In November 2022, EPICA released "The Alchemy Project" through Atomic Fire Records. The EP was co-written and performed with diverse guests ranging from extremists like FLESHGOD APOCALYPSE, Niilo Sevänen (INSOMNIUM) and Björn "Speed" Strid (SOILWORK) along with melodic masters like Tommy Karevik (KAMELOT),keyboard legend Phil Lanzon (URIAH HEEP) and Roel Van Helden (POWERWOLF) to a once-in-a-lifetime song with Simons, Charlotte Wessels and Myrkur.

Just one day after the release of its anniversary reissues "We Still Take You With Us" and "Live At Paradiso", EPICA celebrated 20 years of existence live in September 2022 at 013 in Tilburg, Netherlands, the same place where they played their first show (supporting ANATHEMA) back in 2002.

EPICA was formed by Jansen after leaving AFTER FOREVER in 2002, and the band quickly gained attention outside their home country, taking big steps towards becoming the leading symphonic metal superpower they have long proven to be. After their ambitious debut "The Phantom Agony" (2002) and the surprisingly eclectic sophomore work "Consign To Oblivion" (2005),the road took them to new heights via their first concept masterpiece "The Divine Conspiracy" (2007) and their global breakthrough "Design Your Universe" (2009). 2012's opus "Requiem For The Indifferent", 2014's bedazzling "The Quantum Enigma" and "The Holographic Principle" (2016),cemented their reputation as not only one of the hardest-working metal bands in the business but also as one of the best. With "Omega", the final part of the metaphysical trilogy they began with "The Quantum Enigma", they reclaimed the throne without so much as the blink of an eye, amassing three million-plus streams during the first week of the album's release.

Photo credit: Tim Tronckoe