#WHATTA TIME TO BE ALIVE
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coldblooded-angel · 9 months ago
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O hmy god am i still dreaming??? IS THIS REAL??? HAVE MY PRAYERS TRULY BEEN ANSWERED?????
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Almost The Same - A03
Dympna Devers x Felix Catton
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Dympna Devers x Felix Catton
Explicit - 18+
5.5k words
There was that violent confidence that oozed from the stranger making its emergence again for the night. Felix couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath when he remembered again just how calmly the guy above him had snapped some guy’s finger only an hour ago. Acting like he had done nothing and just continued on with his night, chatting Felix up and now they were here, naked and laying on the bed, Felix getting covered in vicious painful little bite marks. His cock sensitive from the rough fabric constantly stretched and rubbing against him. His nipples felt like they’d turned a shade of deep purple with the incessant teasing. “As pretty as you look in these darlin’ , I think it’s time we move this along” he sat back on his thighs, finger’s roughly pulling the panties down Felix’s legs. Then he was naked, bare except the black mesh top, laid out, vulnerable to the stranger above him. “Even prettier now” he rumbled in that thick Irish accent.  Felix only squeaked in embarrassment the flush in his cheeks growing a deeper shade of red, cock twitching at the words before it was engulfed by the warm wet heat of the blonde’s mouth. Felix groaned, it was sloppy, messy, wet heat, spit dripping down his crotch settling in his pubes. God it felt so good, almost too good. The tight heat of the blondes throat constricting around the head of his cock as he swallowed him down.  He reached over to the bedside table, a bottle of lube sitting there from earlier, he shoved it down next to his hip, pushing it into the other man's hand. 
A03 Link - for more
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bluetimeombre · 3 months ago
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・❥ 'Are you Hugh down under?' p2
You and Hugh were the stars of the biggest movie, Wolverine and Ladypool, and fans love the two of you.
[Here's p2, thank you for loving the last one and being as obsessed as I am. I hope i got everyone on the tag list and the second part to Ladypool and Wolverine is on its way. Again this isn't proof read, this is just vibes. There's some sexual innuendos and sexist comments that Hugh is at the rescue for. Also, i'm British so half of these interviews just end up being British icons]
part one
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You and Hugh being in love for twenty-five minutes (part two)
2017, Y/N heart monitor
You were doing an interview for your latest movie with Nick Grimshaw on BBC radio one. It was a new thing he'd come up with, trying it with you for the first time as you were hooked up to a heart rate monitor.
'Is it working?' asked Nick. 'Is she alive?'
You help him put the stickers onto you. 'It's like, there's nothing there,' you joke with them.
'She's a robot.'
The beeping began and it found your heart beating at a steady pace, a good start.
'So, I'm going to show you a series of images and we're just gonna see how you react to these images, ok?' he asked.
You grin, nerves kicking in. 'Ok.' It could have been anything. And boy were you right.
Some of them were fine, easy, normal. A picture of a co-star the heart rate was fine, a pair of shoes that you wore a lot, a picture of cash and an ex that had it risen but not alarmingly.
'And finally,' Nick picked up an image. 'Hugh Jackman! How does he make you feel?'
Your cheeks go red and you laugh. 'I hate you all so much, um, Hugh Jackman?' you were too busy laughing. Once you had made a joke about Wolverine and how good looking he was, now it was following you everywhere.
'Heartbeats rising!' Nick cheered as you covered your face. 'Heartbeats the highest it's ever been, eighty-five, up to ninety! One hundred!' he claps.
You bang your head on the table, finally finding control over yourself. 'I can't believe you all.'
Nick slid the picture over to you. 'Here, you can take that one home with you.'
'Thanks. He looks great there, doesn't he?' you say. 'A classic, Hugh Jackman picture.'
'Yeah, you like it?' he teased.
You grinned. 'That's going on my wall when I get home.'
The Graham Norton show
You and Hugh had walked out, waving at the adorning crowd that cheered as you took the sofa.
‘Hello! Hello!’ Graham called.
The two of you looked the pair as you smiled and sat next to each other in spite of the space on the sofa.
‘Sofa to ourselves, i like that,’ you say, lying back.
‘The other guests were too intimidated,’ said Graham. ‘Now, was the walk out ok for you guys, Hugh, are you happy?’ He asked.
Hugh frowned. The crowd laughed. ‘It was very good, thank you.’
‘Because, is it true- and Y/N correct me if I’m wrong, you had a specific song you walked out onto set with?’ He asked.
Immediately knowing what he was talking about, you laugh while Hugh hangs his head and sighs.
You sat straight and took to explaining while patting his back. ‘You see, it’s very tough for Hugh to get into character as Wolverine sometimes. So the only way was to get him out the trailer was to play a specific song.’
‘Ok, ok so shall we do it again, this time with the song?’ Graham proposed. He ushered you both backstage, Hugh squeezing your shoulders as you went.
‘Whatta a man’ by salt and pepper started playing and you led the way out for Hugh who danced his way out. The crowd clapped along as Hugh shows his moves and ended with dipping.
‘Oh wonderful!’ Graham called as the two of you took your seats again.
For the rest of the interview thing went very smoothly.
‘Now is is true that the first time you met, Hugh, you didn’t actually meet Y/N?’
Hugh again huffed and shook his head. ‘This show is all to embarrass me, isn’t it?’
‘Makes a change honestly,’ you say.
Hugh looked back to you and started to tell the story. Through out, his body had moved toward you, his entire presence facing you despite talking out to everyone. ‘When I first walked on set, you know, at the ready, I was very excited to be there and even more excited to meet this wonderful lady here. And I got suited up, you know, went to hair and makeup and one of our first shots was quite a challenging one, a big stunt.’
‘Big,’ you agreed, taking a sip of your drink. You knew where the story was going.
‘Yea, so anyway, I walk over to Y/N whose already in her suit. Looks great by the way. Anyway so I start introducing myself and saying hello and how thankful I am for being here, a real heart to heart you know-‘ he says, ‘and then Y/N walked in and i realized I’d been speaking to her stunt double the whole time- whole time!’
The crowd laugh as do you, almost choking on your drink.
Wolverine and Ladypool press:
You and Hugh sat with each other all day doing press. You kept it light with jokes between the two of you, working through the people and questions.
One particular interviewer just had to get his answers though. ‘So your suit,’ he starts, looking to you. ‘It’s very tight and eventuated several parts of you, did you find that hard to manoeuvre around?’
Hugh answered before you had the chance to open your mouth. ‘I found it very easy to move around in. You know, first x-men movie, not so much but these suits, are perfect.’
The guy chuckled, it was clearly forced but you thanked Hugh for taking the question, patting his knee. ‘Can you wear like panties with them or thongs, cause they are skin tight.’
‘I’ll take this one!’ Said Hugh again. ‘I go commando, but that’s just because I like it.’
‘He does, he does like it,’ you nod, grinning. ‘He’s going commando right now actually.’
The guy tried one more time to ask you a question about the suit. At this rate, your entire body turned to face Hugh. ‘Do you feel sexy in the suit?’ He asked you.
‘Very,’ said Hugh.
After that, Hugh made several vulgar comments when you were alone, but luckily for you, Hugh was your own superhero.
Buzzfeed quiz
'Hello!' you greet the camera, holding your phone to your chest. 'I'm something-something Jackman.'
'And i'm the greatest actress of all time,' said Hugh.
You deflated, looking at him. 'Oh, well now I just look like a dick.'
'No, it's ok,' he shrugged. 'One of us has to look like a dick.'
The two of you were doing quizzes for Buzzfeed, answering if you're more Ladypool or Wolverine. Although you were sat next to each other, you'd both craned your bodies back so the other couldn't see what you were putting in, like it was a test.
'We're really competitive with each other,' Hugh told the crew.
'Yeah, not with anybody else, but I have to- I just have to prove i'm better than Hugh Jackman at something,' you said.
'Who are you hoping to get?' asked the lady behind the camera.
'Oh, Ladypool, obviously,' you said.
Hugh nodded along, watching you. (Did this man ever not look at you?) 'I wouldn't be angry about getting Ladypool either.'
You tut. 'So quick to betray yourself.'
If you could have a super power, what would you chose?
You read through the options. 'I think telekinesis,' you said. 'Mainly just because I'm lazy and it would be so easy to pick up the tv remote or close the curtains. Very practical.'
'Yeah, that's a good one,' Hugh hummed about it for longer. 'Maybe healing ability.'
You roll your eyes, throwing your head back. 'That's such a Wolverine answer!'
'I know, but I'm getting old, be nice for things to not hurt a lot,' he said.
Who's your favourite MCU character?
Hugh scanned the options. 'I er, don't see Wolverine on here?' he looked around at the crew behind the camera's shaking his head.
'Can't get the staff these days- oh my god Spider-Man's on here!' you cheered, distracted.
'She loves Spider-Man,' Hugh told the camera.
'I do. I really do,' you agreed. 'If it wasn't gonna be Wolvie, it was gonna be Spidey,' you look into the camera, holding your phone to your ear, mimicking for Andrew Garfield to call you.
Hugh dragged his finger of his neck in a cutting off motion if he ever did.
Who do you pick to be your road-trip buddy?
'You have to pick the Wolverine, c'mon,' Hugh nudged you.
You looked through the options which all considered x-men. You hesitated, humming. 'I dunno.'
'We had great fun in the car!'
A red blush took over your cheeks as you re-called the multiple, multiple takes you and Hugh had to do. Hugh saw this and draped his arm over the back of your chair.
'Yeah, but that was- that was different, this is a roadtrip not a porn video in a car,' you joked. 'And Wolverine's like so serious, Rogue, she's so fun.'
'Woah, woah,' Hugh paused everything. 'Rogue is great, don't get me wrong. But who's better!' he pointed at himself. 'Wolverine's not grumpy with you, he loves you!'
You look over at him, grinning sweetly. 'No, you love me and it's judging your character.' For five minutes, the two of you argued over who you'd rather have as a road-trip buddy. Most of it got sped up during the video. 'Ok, fine, I pick Wolverine. Who are you picking?'
'Charles,' said Hugh even though Ladypool was on the list.
You faced the camera, mouth hung open as Hugh laughed loudly and gave you a side hug, assuring you it was a joke but he still clicked on Charles!
Which musical number would you want to perform with your 'Wolverine and Ladypool' cast mate?
'Oh, some great choices!' boasted Hugh as he read through them all.
You smile at him, eyes softening. 'You've awakened the musical theatre beast.'
'Y/n, there's so many good choices! What do we pick?!' he grabbed your hand and squeezed as you watched him with joy.
There was a few choices: 'Love is an Open Door,' from Frozen, 'The other side,' which Hugh obviously did for The Greatest showman. But there was also 'The Love Melody' from Moulin Rouge and 'You're the one that I want,' from Grease and when you both saw that you gave each other a look and knew which one you were picking.
By the end when your results came up you cheered and punched the air, practically jumping out you seat. 'Ladypool! God, this felt like my audition for the character all over again,' you wipe pretend sweat from your brows. 'What did you get?'
Hugh showed you his phone. 'Ladypool! I got Ladypool!'
'We're so alike!' you entwined your fingers. Slowly and dramatically the two of you leant in, pretending you were going in for what would have been a very wet kiss before you both pulled back and explained your answers.
You and Hugh with Alison Hammond again!
The interview with the two of you and Alison Hammond was pretty much the two of you flirting and Alison fangirling. Fans couldn't stop editing it together.
'Ok so obviously there's been a lot of competition between the two of you, so we need to settle who's better once and for all,' said Alison. 'So i've got a series of challenges for the two of you to complete but there's a twist.'
'We're naked!' said Hugh causing you to laugh. 'No, sorry.'
Alison handed you both each a boxing glove. 'I want you to put one on each and sign your autographs, which ever is close wins the point.'
'You're on, Jackman,' you said, already sliding your hand into the boxing glove.
Hugh gave you a cocky smile. 'I am so gonna win this, you know why? Cause you've given me a right boxing glove, but i'm left-handed!' he quickly got to scribbling his autograph.
'Fuck!' you cursed, struggling with your own. (It was bleeped out on this morning).
When you handed them both back to Alison it was obvious who the winner was. 'Thanks for this guys, it'll do numbers on Ebay.'
The two of you practically topple on each other with how hard you laugh.
Next you had to try to open a bottle of water with your gloves on and pour it into glasses and try drinking from it, both of which you failed at. Then the two of you just started fighting each other so Alison called it off like she was your teacher in a rowdy class.
'So, as I am a morning presenter, I thought I'd see how good the two of you would be if you had your own Hugh and Y/N morning show- so here's some guards, scoot closer, scoot closer,' said Alison.
The two of you took the cards and moved your chairs together until your thighs were pressed together. You waited for your cue before the two of you began your audition for your own morning show.
Hugh threw his arm around your shoulder, drawing you in.
'No, Hugh,' you denied, 'we must be professional on tv!'
Alison cackled. 'Yeah, you wouldn't do that on tv.'
Hugh looked offended at the both of you. 'We're re-defining what it means!'
You push him off you and hit him with your cards.
Hugh assesses the camera. 'Where's the shot? Above our chests, perfect, so I can do this.' And he puts his hand on your thigh, sprawling it out as you bite your lip to stop the grin.
'I'm taking this audition seriously, Hugh!'
Finally, the two of you start, acting as if it was a real morning show while Alison gave you pointers.
'Did you have a good weekend?' Hugh asked you (in reality all your weekends had been spent in his company) 'What did you get up to?'
You shrug. 'Nothing much.'
'No,' he interrupted causing you and Alison to laugh. 'When I ask a generic how was your weekend, you have to tell me a great funny story that we've set up before. So, Y/N, what did you do on your weekend?'
'I went fishing,' you said the first thing that popped into your head.
'Did you fall in?' he asked.
'I fell in.'
'That's hilarious!' the way he said it and the way he looked into the camera, caring about it just made you laugh so bad. 'Don't go anywhere, we'll see you after the break!' you were still laughing when Hugh wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck, making kissing noises and hiding behind the cards.
Even more at the premier
You and Hugh stood next to each other, him keeping an arm around your waist as you both listened to the interviewer ask you questions.
'So, Y/N, we found this interview from 2017 and we thought Hugh might like to take a look at it,' they said, pulling out their phone and clicking on a video.
As soon as it started playing, you knew what it was. 'Oh god.' you hid yourself, turning to Hugh as he watched.
It was the famous heart-rate monitor interview, where, when you saw a picture of a shirtless Hugh Jackman, your heart-rate spiked higher than any other picture.
Hugh was smiling the whole time and beamed at you when the video finished. 'You have that effect on me,' he assured you, leaning his head on top of yours and smiling at the interviewer.
'Y/N, do you still feel that way when you look at him now?' they asked.
'More,' you said, speaking loudly over all the noise. 'I feel it ten times more.'
And fans, anyone, could see how much the two of you were in love. Whether it was just flirting or if it was real, it was there and everyone was happy for you.
As the two of you walked off, the camera followed you. Hugh's head was bowed low, seemingly taking low to you as his arm remained around your waist and yours came up to rub his back up and down. He laughed loudly at something you had said before dropping a kiss to the top of your head and continuing on the journey.
(there probably won't be part three but I'm working on another compilation with you and Hugh)
taglist (thank you all!): @geeksareunique, @angstdaddy, @tranquilty, @gotta-go-now, @pear-1206, @chronicallybubbly
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sophiefatale · 1 month ago
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oh dear lord baby jesus nicholas alexander chavez is so hot…. whatta time to be alive god bless
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lemotmo · 6 months ago
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What are your top 5 favorite Buddie moments?
Gosh Nonny, that is a tough question. There are so many to choose from. 6 seasons in fact.
Let's start at the bottom of the list:
5. Buck coming out to Eddie as a bisexual man. I loved all of it. It shows just how much they care for each other and accept each other. It shows us an ever loving Eddie giving Buck the space to be himself.
4. The Poker date. Everything about that date was heightened in intensity. The way Eddie kept on gazing at Buck with this adoring look in his eyes, like he couldn't believe that Buck was actually here and alive and 'Thank God' and 'I love him so much'.
3. The 'You can have my back' scene from the very beginning. That is where it truly all began for me. The way Buck turned into a blushing idiot the moment Eddie complimented him was soooo good.
2. The kitchen scene. I truly believe that they would have started making out if Chris hadn't been there. It was so charged with sexual energy. Insanity!
The shooting scene. The way they gazed at each other when Eddie got shot. The way Eddie reached out to Buck and how Buck reacted. Buck saving Eddie and Eddie's 'Are you hurt?' It killed me. I remember watching that scene for the first time and crying my eyes out. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Perfection.
Honourary mentions: the will scene (iconic), the Whatta man scene, the post tsunami scene where Eddie followed Buck's eyes to get him to look at him (guh, so good), the construction at Sunset scene (that was so heavily husband coded)...
I could mention a dozen more and still not be done if I'm honest.
All of these scenes are the reason I ship Buddie so hard. They are the only way to go. The only couple who have the history, chemistry and love to become iconic. No other relationships they have will ever compare to all of the above. This is why I will never give up on them.
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mondverde · 9 months ago
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P3 and driver of the day ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 whatta time to be alive 🥰
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chained-sweater · 22 days ago
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୨୧ passionate poets
— a/n : prompt two for day two of @outsidersweek. the poems used in this story are not mine. they belong to their rightful owners.
— characters : ponyboy "pony" curtis, dallas "dally" winston
— timeline : one year post-canon (my au)
— warnings !! : none
— chapters : 2/7
— word count : 800
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it was a cool august evening. i sat on the front porch smoking a cigarette, watching as the sun began to set. it was hard to believe a year had already gone by since the windrixville incident. johnny'd been discharged from the hospital a while back and his hands had healed enough that he could walk with his crutches. my hair had started growing back, the ends still bleached. i didn't want to cut them off. they reminded me of how i went through so much trauma and still made it out alive. besides, i liked them. they made me look cool.
i blew out a smoke ring just as i heard a whistle. it started low and long and ended on a high note. i blinked, and saw dally walking over.
"hey, kiddo," he said, sitting down next to me. "whatta ya doin'?"
i handed him a weed. "jus' watchin' the sun," i answered, looking back over at the sunset. the sky had turned a pretty pink, with gold glittering on the horizon. it made me smile.
dally blew out a plume of smoke. "why d'ya watch these things, anyway?" he asked, cocking up an eyebrow. "they're nuthin' special."
"they're special to me," i said, taking a long drag of my weed.
"mmhmmm," dally said, gazing at the sunset. "that's a lotta gold there, huh? gold and red."
i remembered a conversation i had with johnny in the church. i smiled. "nature's first green is gold," i said softly.
dally turned to me. "what?" he asked gruffly.
"nature's first green is gold,
her hardest hue to hold.
her early leaf's a flower;
but only so an hour.
then leaf subsides to leaf.
so eden sank to grief.
so dawn goes down to day.
nothing gold can stay."
dally stared at me. "what?" he asked dumbly after a long pause.
"it's a robert frost poem," i explained, tossing my cigarette snub at the ground and stepping on it. "i told johnny about it while we was at the church. he liked it." the memory made me smile.
dally blinked. "uh huh," he said. he flicked his ashes away and his eyes returned to the sunset. "you read poetry?"
i shrugged. "sometimes," i said.
dally nodded.
we were quiet for a while, watching the sun as it melted away into the horizon, until dally said, "i shall not live in vain."
it was my turn to be confused. "huh? i said.
"if i can stop one heart from breaking,
i shall not live in vain;
if i can ease one life the aching,
or cool one pain,
or help one fainting robin
unto his nest again,
i shall not live in vain."
i gaped at him. "you know emily dickinson?" i asked breathlessly.
dally chuckled under his breath. "yeah," he said. something in his eyes turned soft. "my da loved her poetry," he said quietly. he blinked rapidly, drawing in a deep breath.
i tilted my head, staring at him curiously. "really?" i asked, voice soft. "did he read her stuff to ya?"
dally nodded. "yeah," he mumbled, voice wavering slightly. "he...he did. he'd read her poems to me every night before bed." he tossed his weed away; i noticed his hand was shaking. "he'd go to our neighbor across the hall where we lived and ask her to translate the poems so he could understand 'em." he was talking way too fast and his voice was shaking. "our neighbor was one of his friends he'd known back in russia and she knew english, so she'd translate them for him so he could read 'em to me. sometimes mama'd come in and listen. she liked hearing him read; helped calm her down." he stopped, staring blankly down at the ground. he was trembling, and his eyes were wide and his face was real white. (well, whiter than usual. dally was real pale.)
suddenly he jumped to his feet. "i'll see you later," he said hastily, swiftly walking away from me. he tripped over his feet a couple times before he got himself under control, and kept on jogging away. i watched him until he was gone.
the sun had gone down and the air was chilly. i got up and went inside, sitting on the sofa, my mind reeling. dally never talked about his parents; his real parents, that is. he never said why. i always thought it's because something bad happened to them, or they abandoned him. that last one didn't seem real probable to me anymore. from what dally said, it sounded like his parents cared about him. or his dad did, anyway. i was still unsure about his mom. but i suppose i could find out about her another day.
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୨୧ end of prompt two
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whumpbug · 5 months ago
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whumperless whump event day 12: it's going down (i'm yelling timber) @whumperless-whump-event
building collapse / trapped under rubble / “i can't move my legs.”
see this post for character information!
caretaker: Cassidy
whumpee: Gene
THIS FIC IS NOT CANON! I REPEAT, THIS FIC IS NOT CANON! i just wanted to try my hand at something very whumpy and angsty but for all intents and purposes, this is simply a dream cassidy had or something like that. GENE IS ALIVE AND WELL.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
There was a fire in the schoolhouse. And it was spreading.
At the rate it was going, it'd reach just about all the buildings on the west side of town. One of those buildings happened to be the town jail.
Gene gritted his teeth and let his gaze flicker to the cell. Of course, there just had to be a certain outlaw locked up at the most inconvinient time.
Good ‘ol Silver.
As soon as Gene heard the crackling and screaming coming from outside, he knew he had to make a decision quick. If he left Silver in the cell, he would surely burn to death. 
On the other hand, releasing him could prove more dangerous if he decided to use the chaos as a distraction for his gang to come in and pick the place clean.
In the end, it was an easy decision.
Gene tossed his key ring to Silver, who blinked at him owlishly.
“You’re.. settin’ me free?”
“Yes. Now don’t just sit there lookin’ stupid, run,” Gene growled, stripping of his coat.
"Well, whatta 'bout you?" Cassidy's voice was small.
"Get outta here 'fore I change my mind."
He had more urgent matters to attend to.
He dashed over to the schoolhouse, where a frenzy of crying children crowded around their teacher, Miss Lowry. She looked positively panicked, looking around erratically. Her eyes finally landed on Gene and she all but collapsed at his feet in relief.
“Oh thank goodness you’re here! It’s Annie, she’s still trapped up there in the building! She was in the hall when it started-- oh lord mister, please help her!” She cried, clutching at Gene’s vest.
Gene steeled his resolve and nodded. "I'll get her, miss. Don't you worry."
He didn't look back as he headed straight for the flames.
The first thing he noticed when he entered the rickety doorway was how hard it was to breathe. He felt the familiar sense that his lungs were seizing up, but he could deal with it later. He had to focus.
“Annie! Where're you!” He shouted out, erupting into coughs.
“Hello?! I’m r-right here, mister!” A small voice responded, coughing through sobs.
Gene hacked even harder as he followed the voice. He ducked under charred wood and pushed school desks out of the way before eventually meeting the face of a terrified little girl, surrounded by burning rubble.
She let out a blubbering cry and launched herself forward into Gene’s arms. 
Gene let out a soft oof before hoisting her up over his shoulder. "S'all gonna be alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna get you out."
Once Gene actually finds a way out.
He held Annie close as he scanned for an escape route. The smoke was stinging his eyes, and his breaths were quickly becoming slow wheezes. One look at Annie and he saw she was dealing with the same thing. Her coughs were becoming louder-- more desperate. He needed to be fast if he wanted to save this girl.
Finally, he saw a sliver of hope. There were two beams resting against eachother, creating a pocket free of debris. It looked stable too, so long as it wasn't jostled too much. The only trouble was that it was entirely too small for Gene himself to fit through.
Oh well. I’ll figure something out.
He made a beeline for the exit, cradling the back of Annie’s head. His eyes were watering now. The air scorched his throat on the way down, and he looked down for a brief moment to see he was absolutely covered in soot.
As he finally reached the beams, he set Annie down very gently.
His voice was gravelling when he spoke.
“Alright darlin’, you have to head through this hole very carefully, okay? Don't touch the sides. I ain’t gonna be able to follow, but I’ll be right behind you. You hafta be brave, okay?” 
Annie’s eyes widened in pure panic.
“N-No! You have to come with me, mister! I’m too scared! Please!” She cried, clinging to Gene’s leg.
There was a sudden snap, and Gene saw a beam in the distance go down. Christ. They didn't have time for this.
“Alright! Alright. I’ll go with you. Promise. Just start walking, alright?” He reassured quickly, leaning away to cough.
She whimpered and nodded, holding Gene’s hands behind her as she inched her way through the beams.
Gene crouched, following her the farthest he could without disturbing the way the beams were balanced together.
She was about a foot from being out, when there was another sickening crack-- this time right above them.
“Shit!” Gene barked, and before he had time to think, he was shoving Annie as far forward as he could right as the beams gave way.
Right on top of him. 
All he felt was white-hot pain before everything went black.
••••
Cassidy watched from behind a tree as the bucket brigade finally started making a damn dent in the flames.
It had been nearly 7 minutes since Gene went in after that little girl, and there was no sign of either of them.
Cassidy was just about ready to head into the building himself. He was expendable. Deptuty Eugene Delaney was not. He rolled up his sleeves and took a step forward before--
He saw a soot-covered figure fall onto the grass, sobbing as hard as she could. That must be Annie, then.
So where the hell was the deputy. 
Cassidy took another experimental step forward, straining to look for any sign of a taller figure emerging.
All he was met with was the sickening sound of wood splitting, and a choked out scream as the building collapsed.
His legs were moving before he had time to think.
The bucket brigade, seeing the situation at hand, focused their efforts where the deputy presumably was. The worst of the flames had been snuffed out by some miracle, but the rubble was still creaking and falling all around. No one dared to get too close.
No one but Cassidy.
He crashed to his knees in front of where Annie escaped, ripping apart the rubble piece by piece, searching for any sign of life.
“Goddamn you, Delaney, always trying to be a goddamn hero,” He muttered, tearing away another plank of wood. The terror in his voice came out before he had a chance to surpress it.
His heart stopped when he heard a soft groan coming from below.
He wasted no time carefully, slowly lifting up a large scrap to reveal a soot-covered cotton vest, and just above it, a tuft of dirty blonde hair.
Cassidy felt his breath hitch as he lifted all the rubble he could hold in one go and.. Christ, it wasn’t good.
Gene was lying face down on the dirt, gasping for air. The entire left side of his face was blood-soaked, and more blood poured from his nose, seeping into his teeth. His lower half was obstructed by heavier rubble that Cassidy couldn’t lift on his own, and he wasn’t sure he liked what that meant for Gene. 
Still, he crouched towards the deputy, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder blade.
“Delaney? Delaney, you with me?” He questioned, voice tight with worry.
Gene made a pathetic attempt to nod, before erupting into a wheezing coughing fit again. 
“S-Still.. alive,” He rasped, gasping for air that would not come.
Cassidy urged his voice to be something gentle, despite his racing heart. “Alright cowboy, you gotta help me by wigglin’ out when I get this damn wood off’ya.”
Cassidy stood and got behind Gene, fingers hooking underneath part of the beam. Finally, some of the bystanders gained some sense and a few men stepped forward to help Cassidy lift.
They finally cleared out the crumbling beam, leaving Gene’s lower half lying limp against the dirt.
Gene blanched, sputtering out a cough as he tried to push himself up with his arms.
“C-Can’t.. can’t feel my legs..” He choked out, voice thick with panic. He clawed at the dirt in front of him. “Silver..”
Cassidy felt his heart sink.
“Sure you can. Don’t be stupid, Delaney, sure you can.” He knelt beside Gene. “It’s just the shock. Nothin’ more.”
Gene shut his eyes tight and shook his head. Tears were spilling freely now. It was the first time Cassidy had ever seen the other man cry.
“N-No.. s’like they’re not even there.” He wheezed, lowering his face to hide it from the onlookers’ staring.
Cassidy felt something akin to sorrow bubble up inside of him. He turned frustratedly to the group of bystanders. 
“Would someone please go get a doctor? Any time today?” He shouted, shooing off the crowd.
He turned back to Gene and ran a shaking hand through the singed hair on the back of his neck.
“You’re gonna be alright. We’ll fix this. I swear it.”
All Gene could do was sob.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
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littleperilstories · 2 years ago
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The Prince of Thieves: If It's Not Right, You Have to Put It Right
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Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03!
Warnings: Fantasy-esque prison setting, painful wound cleaning, restraints (shackles), severe power imbalance, nasty law enforcement/abuse of power, aftermath of flogging, mention of wound infection, lady whump
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Word count: 3917 || Approx reading time: 16 mins
If It's Not Right, You Have to Put It Right
Teaser: Is there no one around here with any kindness in their heart? Or any goddamn sense in their head? “But…no one’s looked at his back since yesterday.”  I point at Fox, letting my voice quaver. “Those cuts will get infected if they don’t get cleaned.”
Bree
The night passes in unsettling quiet. There are no howls of despair from other cells, no angry bellows from the constables. In fact, little noise at all breaks through the darkness, save for the scraping of hobnailed boots when the patrolling guards stalk through the halls.
Fox, too, is quiet—no moans or whimpers from pain-induced dreams. He sleeps, silent enough that I catch myself hoping he’s not dead.
Sleeping, when  it’s my turn to sink into its elusive mists, brings no rest. Waking, which happens enough that I’m not sure I slept at all, brings only grief and uncertainty.
Hatchett first said I would hang, then changed to not necessarily. Was that part of the game? Was he simply trying to confuse me? If I am not taken to the gallows, but left here to rot instead, what then? Or perhaps…perhaps that’s it? Maybe it’s enough for him to watch me suffer? He’ll get his long-awaited vengeance for running away from him  four years ago, and I’ll get to die cold and alone.
A hoarse moan from the other cell jars me from my thoughts. “Am I still alive?”
I don’t know whether to muster up tears or laughter. Pressing as close to the bars as I can, I squint through the dark. “Seems you are.”
“Shame.” He draws a slow breath, punctuated by a wince.
“Does it hurt?”
“Like hell.”
He hasn’t moved much from where he fell asleep last night—probably couldn’t. His wince echoes through the darkness as he slowly starts to rise.
“No one’s come to take a look at those yet.” I can’t see his lash-wounds, not while his face is turned toward me, but I was awake for enough of the night that I’d have noticed if someone visited.
“That asshole medic will come around when he wants to,” Fox mutters. “Or maybe never. He hates my guts.” After he’s pulled himself upright, panting slightly, he adds with a dark laugh and a vague gesture around us, “Like everyone else.”
I don’t understand. Why take care of the shoulder wound, but not these ones? “But they might get infected—”
“So? What do they care?” His words run together, so it sounds like, Whatta they care? “Aren’t I gonna die anyway? May as well make the lead-up painful.”
I can’t think of anything to say to that, so I say the first—and most inane—thing that comes to mind. “I don’t hate you.”
Something flashes across his face. Amusement? Gratitude? Confusion and discomfort he’s too polite to acknowledge? “Uh. Thanks.”
I don’t respond. I’m too busy wishing I could die right about now.
Long, dragging minutes prompt the realization that I haven’t eaten since my last meal at the Smith house, nor have I had any water since my interrogation.
Tell me what you know about IA. Its leaders. Its methods. Everything.
With the sound of the whip still ringing in my ears, I was not inclined to give Baden Hatchett a single word, let alone any goddamn details about running for IA.
Speak, Miss Cooper, or you will find your stay in this prison less than hospitable.
You realize it is in your best interests to cooperate, do you not?
You think I won’t go to any lengths imaginable to take them down? Do you really want to be on the wrong side of that battle?
You’re a fool, I finally told him. I already am.
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“Please, sir. When is the medic coming?” The constable who delivers water and bread appears genuinely surprised when I scramble to my feet and address him. “Will it be soon?”
He gives me a look one might give a worm, squashed and bloody beneath their shoe. “You sick?”
“W-well, no, but—”
“Then sit down, girl. Mind your own business.”
Is there no one around here with any kindness in their heart? Or any goddamn sense in their head? “But…no one’s looked at his back since yesterday.”  I point at Fox, letting my voice quaver. “Those cuts will get infected if they don’t get cleaned.”
Scoffing, he asks, “Is that supposed to be my problem? Take your fucking meal and worry about yourself.”
This time, when I answer, impatience slips through, and I press myself against the metal. “I’m telling you, he needs to come look at—”
“‘I’m telling you’?” Reaching through the bars, the constable shoves me back. My stocking feet and tired limbs struggle to keep balance, and I sink to the floor. “Who do you think you are? Mind your goddamn tongue, you hear? He’ll come when he’s available.”
Fox lurches forward when the guard shoves me, spitting venom—the only weapon he can wield. “Look what we got here. Another big man who likes pushing people around.”
I cringe. It’s nice of him to speak up, but he’s already saved me once. I don’t need him to do it again, certainly not now. For once, even if neither of them realize it, I’m the one in control of the conversation. Keeping my eyes on the constable, I reapproach. “What the hell’s the matter with you? Infected wounds kill people all the time. Don’t you care?”
The constable glances at Fox and guffaws. “About him? Not particularly.” He tugs out his baton. “Seems you still need a lesson in respect.”
Although I step back as if cowed by the implicit threat, I say, “I give respect to those who earn it.”
His eyes narrow. “Is that so?  Rest assured… I will let Constable Hatchett know.”
Fox leaps back into the conversation, contempt upon his face. “Going to run right to mommy and tell her, are you?”
The constable slams his baton against the bars of Fox’s cell hard enough to echo. I barely suppress a startled squeak. “You and your mouth. You just don’t learn, do you, you stupid fucker?”
Based on the look on Fox’s face, I can only imagine what he’s thinking: Well, you better come in here and teach me a lesson, then, or something equally ill-advised. But he grits his teeth and says nothing.
“Huh. That’s what I thought,” the officer says, and he stalks away.
Fox turns his glare on me. Once the constable’s footsteps have faded, he says, “So much for not doing that anymore. Didn’t you promise just last night you wouldn’t try to piss them off for my sake?”
Irritation flares inside me. “I promised I wouldn’t put myself in harm’s way. There were bars between us, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Didn’t stop him from trying, though, did it?” Fox gestures toward the door. “And you do realize, right, that he could have come in if he wanted to? That’s how jail works. They’re the ones with the keys.”
“Sure. But I’m the one with this.” I brandish the flask I unlatched from the constable’s belt while I was distracting him with my complaints. “Let’s hope it’s just water.”
How satisfying it is  to watch his eyes widen. Ha. Weren’t expecting that, were you? “When’d you pinch that?”
“There’s a reason Spider recruited me.” I unscrew the top and inhale, praying the pungent smell of alcohol doesn’t assault my senses. “I’m not half bad.” With a sigh of relief, I return the cap. Just water. Exactly what I wanted.
“All right, well, good job, but…why do you need that?”
“I don’t need it.” I drop the flask and scan my clothes, seeking the least soiled stretch of fabric before I tear a strip from the skirt. It’s far from sterile, but it’ll have to do. “You do.”
He frowns. “What?”
“If that dumb fucking medic,” I say, “isn’t going to do his job, then I’ll have to do it for him.” Waving the torn cloth, I gesture toward the water flask. “Come closer.”
He’s staring at me with a mix of astonishment and something I can’t place. Suspicion? Confusion? “Why?”
“Because just hurry up.” I beckon him with my hand. “Before he figures out his flask is missing and comes back. I’m going to clean your cuts.”
He blinks. Flinches. Is he…embarrassed? Is the prospect of me touching him more horrible than being whipped in front of the entire prison? “Bree, you don’t need to—”
Bitterly, I say, “I do if he’s not coming.”
He barely moves a muscle. “We just met.” His good hand rubs anxiously at the nape of his neck. “You shouldn’t have to…”
We just met. His words sting more than they should. “We’ve met before.”
“That night doesn’t count.” For the first time, he looks at me with something akin to pity. “It was awful. For both of us.”
“You saved my life.” No point in bringing up the first time we crossed paths. Why would he remember? He’s probably helped Spider recruit dozens of runners.
“Right, but…” Wide and uncertain, his eyes are still fixed on mine. “I don’t expect nothing from—” A pause. “You…you don’t owe me anything.”
I huff out an annoyed sigh. “Will you just get over here? Or was st—taking this a complete waste of time?”
For a moment, he remains a statue—then hauls himself across the floor, stopping with his back to me. “This…good?”
I reach through the bars to test the distance between us. “Yes.” Hovering my fingers over his back, terrified to touch him until we’re both ready, I scan for any inch of skin that isn’t pocked with lash-marks. “I’m…I’m sorry again. He wouldn’t have flogged you if not for me.”
“Not your fault.” Fox’s voice is bitter, but I believe him. “For a miserable bastard, he’s fucking creative when he wants to be.” He puts on his best mimicry of Hatchett’s low voice. “Consequences.”
Surely he’s trying to be funny, but a shiver runs down my spine. Father was cruel and quick to use his fists, but dumb as a rock. Baden Hatchett is cruel but sharp—clever and quick to use his wits. Had I gone through with the marriage, what awful consequences might I have met when my actions brought him displeasure? “Yes.” You will call the count. “He is.”
Banishing Hatchett from my mind—as much as I can when I’m staring directly at his handiwork, embroidered in blood across Fox’s back—I reach for the flask. “I’m going to run water down your back first. I imagine it will hurt.”
“I expect so, yeah.”
“Are you ready?”
“Do I got a choice?”
I pause, not sure what to do. “I mean… You do, but…”
He snorts. “Just say no.”
Swallowing an uncomfortable laugh, I open the flask.
At first, the water runs rust-coloured to the floor, pooling between us and mingling with the filth crusted there. Fox hisses.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “Just breathe.” What did Mother used to do, when I was young and Father got carried away? Tell me about the story you read today. How were your lessons this morning? Let’s go through some arithmetic facts. “What’s two times two?”
He jerks his head back to look at me, brows pinched in confusion. “What?”
“My mother used to try and distract me,” I say, “when she had to, um… When I was hurt and she didn’t want me to cry.” Didn’t want me to cry too loudly and bring him storming back. “Stories, arithmetics, and such.”
“Listen. I’m not doing any maths right now. This fucking hurts enough as it is.” He winces again as another flood of water drips down his back. “No need to bring school into it.”
“All right. That’s fine.”  Inexplicably, my heart is pounding as I lift my makeshift washing cloth. “I’m going to start, um, cleaning.” Why are my hands shaking? “May I…?”
If he was embarrassed before, he’s gotten over it. “You’ve already started. Might as well finish it, yeah?”
I grit my teeth as if I’m the one who’s bracing myself for pain. “Tell me a story, then. Something about you.”
He barks out a laugh.“You think that’s a good idea? Who knows who’s listening in?” After a pause, he adds, muttering into the darkness, “Fuck you, whoever you are.”
“You needn’t tell me your life story,” I say, chuckling, though my stomach twists. “A happy memory or something.”
He gives a soft yelp. I’m doing my best to be gentle, but the wounds are still raw, and my dress isn’t made from the softest material. “About. What?”
“Anything.” Reaching through the bars is awkward, and my back and arms already ache from the awkward position. Perhaps his story will distract me, too.
To my relief, he acquiesces. “I…used to have…this dog.”
The cloth is already stained pink. “How sweet.”
“She w—” He breaks off, choking back a gasp. I’ve reached one of the deeper cuts. “She really was. And my br—”
His words halt so abruptly, I wonder if I’ve somehow killed him.
“Fox?” I murmur. “Your…?”
“Nothing.”
He is quiet, his breath stuttering as I wash the dried blood from his back. Some of the wounds have already scabbed overnight; I pray there’s no grime trapped inside.
“I was a little shit in school.” I’m puzzled by the change in subject, but I don’t pursue the dog story. “The schoolmaster hated me. He loved to give me the strap.”
Perhaps Fox and I differ in our understanding of something happy. “This doesn’t sound like a good memory.”
“Well, every time I put crickets in his desk, it felt pretty good.”
I bite back a laugh.
“Once, I put a baby snake in his hat.”
“You didn’t.”
“And I broke—ah—” The cry only deters him for a moment. “—into the schoolhouse one night and wrote a rude story on all the slates, pieces of it on every single one. It took hours.”
I’m giggling now, helpless as I imagine the look his shenanigans must have brought to the schoolmaster’s face. “You were a wicked little boy.”
“Yes. Very.” He pauses to wince and jerk away from me as one of his cuts splits open at my touch.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m trying—”
“I didn’t make it easy for myself.” He’s rushing now, shoving his words together as if that will somehow keep the pain at bay. I di’n make it easy f’r m’self. “I could never sit still, and listening to him droning on and on was so boring. All I ever wanted was to go out and play. I’d get in trouble for talking to the other children, daydreaming, fidgeting, talking out of turn, generally being insolent…” He laughs. “Once, I just ran outside because I decided I wanted to go for a walk.”
“How old were you?”
“I dunno. Young.” There’s a wistfulness to his voice now that makes my heart ache. “Ma almost killed me when she found out.”
“And you were, of course, very sorry when you got in trouble.”
“No!” His laugh wraps around me like a cloak, a snatch of childish joy that has drifted from the past to offer us comfort for these precious, fleeting moments. “I remember enjoying my stroll very much. How could I be sorry for that?”
Another cut dribbles fresh blood down his back, and the spell is broken. With a hiss of annoyance, I tear another strip from my skirt to soak it up.
“Was it a happy one, then?” I keep my voice soft. “Your childhood?”
His unkempt mop of hair bounces with his nod. “Yeah. It was.”
Why am I suddenly blinking back tears?
“All right,” I say, hoping he can’t hear the tremor in my voice.  “I think that’s the best I can do.”
A dark stain, wet and rusty, glares up at me from where bloody water dripped onto my skirt.
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
I drop my hands in my lap, trying not to dwell on how my hands, too, are stained. “It was nothing.”
“Won’t be nothing if—when—we get busted. Give me the flask.” He turns so we can face each other once again. “So they think I took it.”
“No.” I place it behind me, where he can’t reach. “You’re not taking the blame for me. I’m not afraid of them.”
The look on his face tells me he knows I’m lying. “They’re gonna figure it out.”
“No,” I repeat. “I’m the one who took it, so—”
The sound of hobnailed boots scrapes through the air, too quickly, so quickly I barely have time to think.
“Bree, please,” Fox says through gritted teeth.
I tent my legs and sweep the empty flask beneath the canopy of my skirt.
It isn’t the same officer from earlier. Rather, the junior constable from yesterday appears outside our cells. What’s his name? Michaelson.
Shit.
“Please,” he begins, his voice doused in sarcasm, “please tell me you two crooks are continuing your thieving ways in here.” The torchlight gives his eyes a maniacal gleam. “Because I would so love to find out that you’re bold enough—stupid enough—to steal from a constable.”
My earlier confidence disintegrates under Michaelson’s searing gaze.
“Where is it?” he asks softly.
How likely is it he’ll believe anything I say? “What are you talking about?”
“The flask that mysteriously disappeared from Officer Lenton’s belt. Where. Is. It.”
I frown. “Flask?”
Would it be better to confess? Give it back? His face gives no indication that either scenario would result in mercy.
Michaelson flips his attention to Fox. “Where is it?”
Fox just shrugs, silent.
The constable looks back to me, and I can tell—impossible though it should be since he wasn’t even fucking here when I took it—he knows. “Stand up.”
How foolish I was, believing I was ever in control. Sighing, I pull the flask out from underneath my skirt and toss it toward him. It clatters against the bars and hits the floor.
“Well, well.” Michaelson studies the flask for a moment. “And why did you take this, girl?”
Before I can even open my mouth, Fox speaks. “I made her do it.”
What the fuck? I shoot him a furious glare. “No, he d—”
“I…” The idiot next to me is racking his brain for a story as he speaks. “I… I wanted to see how loyal she still is to IA. To me.”
After a long pause, Michaelson pierces me with his gaze. “And? Are you?”
Great. Fox tried to help and ended up throwing me into a net. No matter how I answer, we’re in trouble—either he’s a liar or a manipulative bastard gang leader. Either I’m the thief or a stupid little girl following orders. Swallowing hard, I stare back. “What do you think?”
Michaelson smirks. “And did the fox-thief force your hand? Did he make you take it?”
“Yes, I did,” Fox says quickly. If I ever get my hands on him, I’m going to slap him for being a self-sacrificing moron.
Instead of reaching through the bars to retrieve the flask, Michaelson unlocks the door. I realize how egregiously I overestimated my abilities to run this fucking water-flask heist.
“You know what I think?” He steps inside. I scramble to my feet, unsure how that will help me—but I’ll be damned if I’m going to be sitting passively on the floor while he goes through with whatever he’s planning.
“Jesus Christ.” Fox is getting to his feet, too, pain written across his face—violent poetry inked into his skin, sweat glistening on his brow. Sit down, for fuck’s sake, I want to say. But he’s still talking, clinging now to the bars with his uninjured arm. “Leave her alone. She didn’t—”
Michaelson ignores him. “I think,” he says, grabbing my arm and yanking me toward the back wall, “that he’s as much a liar as he is a thief, and a bad one at that. And you? You’re a little bitch who was happy to let him take the fall for you, yes?”
“Get off me.” Trying to wriggle from his grip is useless. What am I supposed to say?
A bruising grip digs into my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “And not even a word of apology. Incredible.”
Is he serious? “Apology? You think I’m going to apologize?”
Michaelson smiles, as if this is the answer he was both expecting and desiring. “No.”
My back is pressed against the wall now, heart thundering in my chest. “I didn’t take it to drink, I took it to—”
Why am I even bothering? He doesn’t care. “You two want to play games?” His voice slithers into my ear. “Better understand the fucking rules.”
When he lets go of my arm, I try to jerk away, only to feel a sharp sting across my cheek.
“Don’t.” Fox’s voice cracks.
“Rule number one. Don’t forget it.” Michaelson closes a ring of cold iron over my right wrist. “It’s us who make the rules. Not you.”
I glare up at him, every thought  unintelligible except for one. “Fuck you.”
He slaps me again.
“Constable Hatchett says you two can cry in here together while you wait for your turn in the square,” he says, dropping my arm, making the chain rattle. “I don’t understand it, but fine. Try to rig the game in your favour—even think about stealing from one of us ever again—and I’ll fucking make you wish you’d never been born.” His gaze slides to Fox. “Both of you.
I can see the way Fox is shaking, and I have a feeling it isn’t from fear.
Unlike me.
I watch Michaelson stalk out of my cell, unable to follow, tethered now to the wall. The chain allows some freedom—but not enough to reach the door or the wall I share with Fox.
Michaelson doesn’t even look at me when he lets his foot, no doubt on purpose, knock over my untouched cup of water. I flinch at the tinny sound, at the sight of the liquid—that I should have gulped down while I had the chance—transforming into muddy sludge on the floor.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Fox is still clinging to the bars. “How was that necessary?”
The clang of the locking door echoes through the corridor.
“You really think you’re some kind of hero.” Michaelson pauses in front of Fox’s cell, making no effort to go inside. “You’re not. You’re nothing. The sooner you get that through your thick head, the better.”
“That’s not true.” I shuffle forward, trying to ignore the pull of the chain on my wrist. “Don’t listen to him.”
Michaelson laughs, turns on his heel, and walks away.
My knees give out on me the second he’s gone. I kneel, gasping softly, waiting for Fox to say the words I deserve to hear—I told you so.
Instead, once he, too, is on the floor, he asks quietly, “Are you all right?”
Nodding—all I can do.
“Did he hit you hard?”
I shake my head.
Surely, tears should be streaming down my face, carving ravines into my skin, burning my slapped cheek. But there’s nothing.
Once I can form words again, I ask him, “Are you all right?” He shrugs in answer. “Your back?”
“Still hurts like hell.” The tiniest flicker of a smile. “But it’s clean. Thank you.”
Maybe it’ll be enough to stave off infection. Maybe it will mean his last days here carry a smidgen less suffering.
How could I be sorry for that?
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Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .
[Banner ID: A narrow horizontal, rectangular banner featuring a barred archway. The bars and the stone walls evoke the feeling of a dungeon or prison. There are burning candles on either side of the archway. The title of the story, The Prince of Thieves, appears in white text in the centre of the image. The author's username, abbreviated to LPS from littleperilstories, appears in the bottom right corner in partially transparent text. End ID.]
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insomniamamma · 7 months ago
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🎶 What a man, what a man, what a man, what a mighty good man! 🎶
Four characters who make you yell MY MAN MY MAN
Thanks for tagging me @oonajaeadira and @jessthebaker
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This grimy, sketchy smooth talking motherfucker. I don't think I have ever been THIS abnormal about a fictional man. Like soooo many fics worth of abnormal. He's grungy, he's unghinged, he does dubious shit to keep himself alive, but in the end he does right by Cee with no expectations that she will come back for him. And the accent. Keep talking, handsome.
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Din Djarin. This man. He is so very human. Trained in combat and capable of incredible violence. Fiercely protective of his friends. But underneath all the bad-assery, all the armor he is so vulnerable. The few times we see his face, he is an open book, everything he's thinking and feeling right there in the open because he's never learned to hide. I could write paragraphs about this man.
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Two out of four are Mandalorian. I guess I have a type. I've been fascinated with Boba Fett since high school, when they re-released the original trilogy with those awkward CGI edits, but Boba got like a couple seconds more screen time and I was all about it. Specifically this scene. AND THEN THEY WENT AND DID THIS!
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Also, when he called Koska Reeves "little one" my soul left my body for several horny minutes.
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And then there's this fucking guy. Nico. He's weird. Eccentric. Big and broad and pretty but so odd. I really like your teeth. Nico, honey what the fuck are you doing? I've written several fics trying to puzzle that out. He's such a strange dude, I want him carnally.
Thank you for attending my whatta man Ted Talk!
NP Tags: @grogusmum @quicax3 @writeforfandoms @themarcusmoreno @artemiseamoon @fromthedeskoftheraven @honestly-shite and anyone else who wants to play! Show me your man candy!
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digitalbunshine · 11 months ago
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Knock knock! Here comes nurse Jax. They might as well be the heat helper, considering this wouldnt be the first time he helped someone with this sorta thing.
Jax stood with a basket of supplies, peering at the door with the yellow version of himself staring back with a big happy smile. “…Jeez, whatta door..uh, heya sunshine! You alive in there?” He knocks on the door.
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Palo didn't immediately recognize the voice that called out to him from beyond the door, but he knew just lying here in bed and willing the heat to go away wasn't working. A soft whimper escaped him before he finally managed to drag himself up out of bed and make his way to the door. "I'm alive... Feels like I'm dying, though," he mumbled as he opened his door. His legs twitched, threatening to give out underneath him.
"Please tell me you're here to help, I don't know how much longer I can stand this."
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tadhgoftheforest · 2 years ago
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Eddie shivered, goosebumps crawling up his skin. It started as a chill against the bottom of his spine, rolled up his back causing his muscles to tighten, and ended with his shoulders jerking tightly and the hairs standing up straight on the back of his neck. The melting snow on the roof had dripped down the back of his coat, sending a momentary shock to his system before the small amount of ice water had warmed to his body and absorbed into the multiple layers of clothing he'd bundled himself into. He was finishing up a smoke, standing halfway under the overhang at some guy's house party.
He'd never really been invited to many of these. Everyone had kinda always steered clear of him. First, because he had an extended weird puberty period of not quite fitting into what everyone else liked at the right period of time. Second, because he'd moved quickly from oddball weirdo to the most plain Jane, khaki colored, nondescript depiction of a humanoid, to rock'n'roll bad boy extraordinaire. He'd gone from being known and laughed at behind people's hands, to disappearing from their consciousness altogether, to making everyone wonder who the new loud and obnoxious transfer student was. No one seemed to recognize him. He didn't really think he'd changed all that much from mid middle school to freshman year, but if the way people talked about him was any indication, then he was an entirely new person.
Weighed down by all his insecurities and fears, he'd drawn a blanket of false bravado over his shoulders, attempted to mash together a witty class clown air with the skills of a charming smoothtalker. While he liked to think it worked, people seemed to take his words as sarcastic or patronizing based on the black clothes, leather, demonic imagery, and incessant use of the word 'fuck'. Then he'd had to pile 'pretender' onto the top of his insecurities he was hiding from. People had seen how he looked and immediately assumed he was up to no good and that he was involved in the darker things of life; for people his age, that meant underage access to booze and drugs—neither of which he actually had access to when he first started getting approached.
The first time it'd happened had been at a football game late in the season freshman year. He'd been standing in the bleachers, hands in his jacket pockets, watching Hawkins give a good fight against this prep school from Marion. Someone had shuffled up next to him, mirroring his stance. He thought they'd just come to watch the game.
"Hey," the guy had said towards him, nodding his head a bit, eyes looking everywhere but at Eddie.
Confused, he'd responded back with his own 'hey' before returning his gaze to the field.
"I'm lookin' for a good time," the guy had said, somewhat under his breath.
His heart had started tripping over itself in his chest. He'd felt himself tense up, terrified that he'd been found out. He'd barely come to the understanding that he liked guys and girls, so how could someone he not even know already know his most recent secret?
"Yeah?" he'd asked the guy, voice shaking, trying to find the quickest way through the crowd in front of him with his eyes so he could dodge the guy if things got messy.
"Yeah. Whatta you sellin'?"
Eddie felt relief flood through him, eyes fluttering shut as he took in a lungful of air. No one knew. He was safe. And then the words finished processing in his head. Selling? Oh God, he'd thought, the dude thought he was a drug dealer. A whole new sense of panic caused his heart rate to spike.
"Not tonight, I'm not," he'd eventually forced out. He didn't know what he wanted the guy to think. He just wanted to get the guy gone. He had no clue if saying he didn't sell was better or worse for staying alive. The guy easily had a foot and a buck twenty on him; there was no way he was going to survive a fight if he pissed this guy off.
"Bummer. You sellin' soon?" The guy didn't sound too upset, mostly just a little disappointed sounding.
"Maybe," he'd finally hedged, still trying to navigate how to best exit this alive and then to get the fuck away from the game.
"Cool. See you 'round."
=
Eddie's at some country club asshole's party and somehow finds himself sitting outside next to this guy that he quickly realizes he spent last summer crushing on—Scoops Hottie.
Find out how Eddie and Scoops Hottie meet at ao3
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askthespffcrew · 2 years ago
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made a seperate for this
so uhh....here's the rules i guess....
1. any questions are allowed
2. no cringe
3. and most importantaly have fun!
eplaination  for this au: So uh this is my second au....so uh…let's talk about something called parallel universes.
Sure, sure  parallel and alternate are basically the same thing but for my aus and such they are a bit different. I usually use parallel to describe an au that is basically close to the original but has small differences while I use alternate for aus that are completely different.
Soooo…..uh okay this is a parallel universe where durus was defeated but unfortunately some of the versions of characters from the original demonic au died.  These characters technically were Twist, Damien, Eli, Peter, Exe, and Durus
Those no worries they're alive in the original au, the au I'm talking about is this one. After what happened Kno convinced Target to leave the base in that au to make a new one in another au. He also somehow managed to convinced Target to allow him to reincarnate him. It actually took quite a bit of work since the only for Target was if Kno made him completely powerless in his new form though before working Kno decided to mostly work on his soul and mind first in order to figure out what caused him to become this monster in the first place. It actually took Kno a lot of time to do this while they were looking for a new base due to how unstable Durus's mind was. In fact Kno had to rest or restart the process several times because of how bad it was, in fact it was so bad that despite being able to fix most of the problems Kno still couldn't completely make it so that Durus was fully stable. Durus still struggles from haphephobia, anxiety disorders, and depression. After Kno was done with repairing his mind he needed to figure out what he should do for a body for Durus and had to figure it out quickly due to the fact that the soul can only last so long without a body.
. As Kno was working on the body, Target managed to find a new place. And whatta ya know it's in the gamble galaxy on the world known as popstar. After moving into a small town (this is like before Kirby comes to town.) Kno managed to finish Durus's body after gaining inspiration from meeting a member of the puffball species. Soon after they brought another house that was close next to theirs and allowed Durus to live there, they often go to check on him and also take food there since he's uncomfortable with going outside and meeting others due to a combo of his haphephobia and anxiety disorders.
He often struggles with why Kno saved him although he was the one who had the most reason why not to. During those days Kno and Target were visiting the market until they heard gossip of a monster stealing food. At first they didn't believe it until they started to see proof of what was happening. They actually saw it run into the forest after stealing food which made them curious about what it actually was. They would take a walk through the forest until they caught a glimpse of it every now. It finally came to a point that they got curious enough to a point that they would eventually try to lure whatever it is out using food in order to get a better look at it.  At first it absolutely refused to come out but slowly began to trust them since they would often leave the food behind for them, until one day they decided to show themselves.Both Kno and Target were shocked to find out that it was a puffball child and even more shocked to find out it was also an orphan and had literally been living in the forest for about 4 years. They decided to bring the puffball in and keep them until they could find an orphanage…which was the plan until they became attached and found out they had a sibling…...in fact Target was the one who got the most attached to them and literally started lovingly calling them forest gremlins. So they got two little puffballs to keep them (besides Durus) company! It was actually Kno who named them Twist and Exe (pronounced x) after his good friends little did they know they were actually the reincarnations of Twist and Exe only for Damien to soon follow after.
So thing with Damien is…..he's a demon beast. So…..yeah he was created by nightmare and stuff.(shrugs 🤷)
So technically what happened is that nightmare got the bright idea that maybe if he made a monster that looked like a star warrior maybe he could stop the other star warriors? So he made Damien who was supposed to be a copy of Meta knight. Unfortunately Damien came out too soon and didn't look like Meta knight at all but still had to suffer for about eight years due to the fact Nightmare thought that maybe he could get some use out of him. Unfortunately for him, Damien was a rebel. Meaning that he didn't want crap to do with Nightmare and his plans of dominating the universe. So technically one night he was like "screw this" and somehow managed to escape and get to popstar on a spaceship all while demon beasts were trying to capture him. (anything about this that sounds familiar? Cough 626 cough.)  Got lost in a forest and was found by the forest gremlins. (Twist and Exe) He was also adopted by Target and Kno.  Aka they all became one big weird family. Target and Kno didn't know that Damien was actually a demon beast….and didn't find out until he started hitting growth spurts…which came with wings and horns.
So fun fact it's actually natural for a puffball to get wings and horns if they got the genes. Though sometimes they'll just get wings or horns. But in order to do so they have to be a certain age (19) because of this Damien actually got them very early at about age 17. He also got his digits at an early age too ( i failed to mention that earlier didn't i? And yes, puffballs can get fingers.) This is where Reese comes in. He gets checked out…it's discovered he's actually a demon beast. A couple of panic attacks and scared outbursts later…he's still part of the fam and Reese is in on the secret and becomes his own private doctor who does regular checkups every now and then.
After that they find the twins, negato, and chronos (who miraculously somehow managed to get close enough to Durus to a point he now lives with him.)
Now it's time for …. More headcanons.
Negato can be a little bit of a jerk but means well in fact most people actually kind of consider him creepy due to his strange personality. The only one he gets along and is good friends with is Kirby despite the age difference.
Damien can still purr in this au. He's very strong and is a fire type demon beast. Unfortunately, just like the original he can't stand the cold. He is actually somewhat self conscious of his appearance and worries that he  might frighten others.
Koi and Kai are best known as the mystery twins; they both were found exactly the same way as the forest gremlins. Their genders are actually unknown though Reese has determined one is female and the other is male. These two are usually seen together.
Exe is a….let's face it….a big boy.
Exe is literally considered to be one of the biggest puffballs in a ….long time. In fact before it was discovered that they and Twist were twins it was actually thought that they were the elder sibling due to their size. They're a lot bigger than any of their siblings…heck they're even bigger than Durus and he's an adult! Like most puffballs they have a big appetite. Though as they get older this appetite usually shrinks some, but for some reason Exe's appetite has yet to shrink. The horns on Exe's mask are actually fake. Though they'll probably get wings soon unlike their siblings.
Twist is known by the others to get into trouble quite a bit, so they often have to help them out. They love to take walks every now and then and usually do so often. They unfortunately like Exe and Damien cannot grow wings or horns due to not having the right genes for it.
The group often goes to visit chronos and Durus. The reason why Kno and Target allowed Chronos to live with Durus is because Durus seems to be the most comfortable around Chronos, they're hoping that maybe with time, effort, and tlc, they can help Durus feel better. Not only but they're also hoping that maybe Durus can get used to being people again with Chronos being his roomie.
Durus usually wraps himself up in a blanket as a comfort item.
Reese and her brother Peter are actually old friends of Twist. They all met when they were kids. Reese, unlike her brother, is a doctor while Peter is a blacksmith, techian, and miner. Their brother Eli is the youngest and considers Twist a sibling since they come to visit often. He'll often come over to their house to visit and hang out with the other kids.
He wants to be a herpetologist when he grows up.
So now we're finally here……let's talk about void or I mean mukou now.
After being defeated by Kirby and the gang in the game's universe. He was sent to and reincarnated in the show's universe (and yes there's a show it's called "Kirby right back at ya")  after landing in the snow and staying there for a few hours he was found by Twist while they were out on a walk and brought home. So unlike normal puffball children he's got wings….and horns….so it's concerning so they decide to take him to Reese. The tests say he's perfectly normal and healthy if a bit aloof. So technically he gets adopted by them but due to fear for his safety and such. He pretty much hangs out with the grownups mostly Twist since he sees them as a parental figure. He sometimes hangs out with the children though Negato is creeped out by him. He pretty much does whatever a child does. He has nightmares….a lot. So he usually sleeps with Twist or Exe. And he also hangs with Kirby a lot, for some reason he looks up to him.
so uh now with new additions
shard who is crown's twin in a way and appeared out of nowhere
crown who was kidnapped from their dimension and turned into a lab rat but managed to escaped and is now trying to live a normal life and is at the same time trying to get back to their old dimension
and azul is a dark matter that crown has met along the way to dreamland. by the time this art trade has opened the trio has been in dreamland for three weeks, this is when the three start trying to find a way to get crown back home......that is if crown actually wants to go home...
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slafkovskys · 1 year ago
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Bestie Jess I just re-came across the video of nolan, redbull, and dish soap
whatta time to be alive
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singlethread · 2 years ago
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yeah ive just noticed the lesser intimacy with hen and karen as well, but it’s good to know that it was an external coincidence w michael and david. ive been watching the entire thing within this past week so i had no idea about the irl filming timeline or about the actor but that makes a lot of sense!
and i still am really liking it even with the things i’ve been cautious of! i can already tell it’s gonna end up one of my favorite shows, i’m just also extra cautious of lgbt rep, especially when they are lgbt characters of color bc poc tend to get the short end of the stick
out of curiosity (again bc i haven’t been following this show in real time), at what point did 911 fans start blowing up the eddie/buck ship? like was there a specific plot point? i checked last night and the ao3 tag is hugeeee
I understand being nervous about that stuff but I really do trust this show with my entire heart. It definitely helps things make sense when you look at the context of the timeline of filming though. Certain stories were written to accommodate actors real lives so yeah, the actors themselves definitely shape the story too. Idk how far you’ve gotten in 911 but there’s an episode in season 6 which is one of my faves ever and such a beautiful queer love story
Some of us (me) have been crazy about Buck and Eddie since the beginning when they introduced eddie to buck with the song whatta man. they just honestly have a lot of natural chemistry and it’s fun. Most of it was jokes like haha wouldn’t it be cool if they got together, not really expecting anything. Some moments where there have been shifts include the tsunami arc when Eddie said there was no one he trusted with Christopher more than Buck. Another shift for certain fans was Eddie getting buried alive in the well accident and Buck tried digging for him with his bare hands. I’d say the scene that got a lot of fandom on board with thinking canon buddie could be a possibility was the shooting arc and the will reveal. And now with the 6b of it all I really think canon buddie is the direction we’re heading. I don’t think it will happen soon, but there has definitely been a shift
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mondverde · 1 month ago
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whatta time to be alive and i need to sleep rn
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sunlitmcgee · 2 years ago
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To build upon the idea in this ask I sent @tobi-smp, I actually tried to visualize this "walking garden" take on the concept of zombie c!wilbur. I'll also ramble about it because there's a lot I was unable to draw in the limits of ms paint :"
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so whatta we got!
well
1: The majority of the decay is on his torso and lower body, making his face one of the last places left that hasn't been completely decomposed. The face is the one area that hasn't been completely by decay, leaving his left eye and part of his mouth unaffected, if a bit pale.
2: Aside from his face, much of his body has been overtaken by the effects of decomposition that comes with so much exposure after so much time. His skin is green in most places, has a saggy texture, is very fragile and starts to leak pus at the slightlest hint of damage. His hands, arms and legs are wrapped in several layers of bandages for the first few months post revival. His skin starts to dry and takes on a firmer leathery texture eventually.
3: There is a large gaping wound in his chest. It was left behind by Phil's sword where it jabbed into Wilbur's heart and broke several ribs. Those ribs are still shattered or at the very least snapped off at the ends. Looking into the gap, you can see the outlines of movement from his organs, and it is largely for this reason that he constantly has some manner of chest guard on(once Tommy can convince him to get one, anyway). The discharge from this hole's rim leaves a faint stage on his sweater. It gets better as his skin toughens and once his body adapts to the whole "being alive again" shit.
4: The flowers. Flowers everywhere. He doesn't know where the roots for all the vines start, just that wherever the rotten patches of skin are, thick vines of emerald green erupt and have spread over his limbs, chest, neck and back. In place of his missing eye is a vibrate blue that's nestled in the socket. The roots don't hurt. The vines make moving a bit annoying. He gets used to it. Tommy's always watering them, which is annoying, but eh it's better than him hating him, maybe?
he's popular with the butterflies...maybe he can get used to that.
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