#We really need to get him a teddy to slaughter

[potatounicoorn]

I didn't know dogs could get disappointed in their christmas presents but clearly that is not the case cause my dog has been sulking ever since he opened his present and got bones, instead of having a chance to slaughter a teddy like the previous years.

[pizzaplex-pup]

Fredbear and Spring being friends with Orphan reader!

Sum Fredbear and Spring Bonnie Dad content cause we need that.

Btw, No man behind the slaughter, No haunting kids, sentient Animatronics, just fluff-

I HC Springy to be a soft yet eccentric fellow, who loves to involve children in a fun experience and make sure everyone is having a good time! while Fredbear is more of a calm and cozy teddy bear.

So the first time you had been dropped off, Springy had been happy to greet you! but you were pretty nervous so for the first few moments you were there you would lay low and not really interact with anyone, this made Spring constantly worry, feeling as if he were doing something wrong in which Fredbear would try his best to reassure him, explaining that it takes a little time for children to get used to new environments.

Eventually you would slowly warm up to the place, one day you gathered up the courage to approach Fredbear as he was giving out free hugs to the other children, eventually he turned to you, you stared at the floor for a few seconds until…

“Hmm… do you need anything, little one?”

You froze.

You looked up at the seven foot bear, unable to say anything as he gave a hearty chuckle, “Well?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

No words had come out, but you slowly raised your arms, as if insinuating that you wanted a hug, until…

“Hey kiddo!” You had turned your head to the sound of the voice and saw Spring… on roller skates| He had hoped to win you over by  performing a cool trick: bringing you a slice of cake to you on roller skates… only for it to go horribly wrong as he ended up crashing into the wall!

Shortly after, as Spring was being fixed up in parts and services, you had approached him, feeling bad for his slip up that you decided to give him something: a bandage. A simple bandage with smiling cats on it.

If an animatronic could produce tears then the entire pizzeria would’ve been flooded.

Ever since that day, you started to look forward to your visits to the pizzeria, to them you were their little one, while you may not have had parents to call your own, you had them.

And neither of you would have it any other way.

[soulsavepoint]

Classifying Rise!Raph's Tma fear alignment

immediately, I think Raph is especially vulnerable to The Lonely, The Desolation, The Slaughter, and The Buried.

Raph is terrified of being alone, as we were shown in Man Vs Sewers. But I think Savage Raph would make getting consumed by The Lonely a bit more complicated, as he seems focused on survival, with little worry about being alone. I doubt Raph would make enough decisions to become an avatar of The Lonely, like the self isolation Martin does in season three. Raph does not do self isolation. He cannot be left alone for more then five minutes without freaking out. At best, I think Raph would be equivalent to a bag of chips to The Lonely, something to snack over the long term.

The Lonely could potentially distort Savage’s perception, and make it 10x harder to get Raph back in the event Raph is pulled into The Lonely. But the turtles run off of the power of love and friendship, so Raph would be marked somehow similar to Martin (something equivalent to Martin getting white streaks in his hair) but he would ultimately escape The Lonely because his family loves him.

With what we know about their childhood and a handful of headcannons, Raph is afraid of hurting his brothers. He accidentally hurt Donnie when they were children, and there where probably a few incidents in their childhood in which Raph got angry and hurt his brothers in some way shape or form. Desolation is the fear of your home being destroyed. Raph does have his home destroyed multiple times throughout the series. (Shredder destroying the layer, Leo almost getting trapped in the prison dimension, gram gram) Which adds the personal element to Desolation, but in terms of enacting Desolation, Raph is too much of a teddy bear to hurt anyone on purpose in the way avatars of the desolation tend to do.

I think The Desolation would have an easy time eating Raph. He is a very anxious person filled with overprotective tendencies as a big brother, so the simple concept of Raph failing to protect his brothers would fill him with so much despair that The Desolation would gobble him right up.

The Slaughter is the fear of unmotivated violence, it is war incarnate. I think Raph would vibe more with The Slaughter, with the music and the glory associated with war. He is built to be a tank after all, so why not fulfill his purpose? It is hard to imagine Raph killing anyone as he is a sweetie pie, but he can scare people just fine in theory. The lack of control instilled by The Slaughter would be problematic, as Raph has learned how to control his anger and strength so that he doesn’t kill somebody by accident.

Maybe The Slaughter would have a better time consuming Raph. Maybe in the TMA universe, Savage is just the mark of The Slaughter on Raph. I think that'd be really neat.

Which leaves The Buried. The Buried and The Vast are inextricably linked. As they are essentially there is this large thing, what is the large thing doing and how do you feel about it. So I think it would make sense if Raph was truly as large as he is, that The Buried would take a liking to him. All the better for crushing things with. Yes, Raph is claustrophobic, which only serves The Buried.

What is the weight of the world on your shoulders but the world hugging you. Comfort is the weight of a big brother. Comfort is a tight hug. Comfort is your ginormous brother pressed against you so that you are safe from all harm.

In the end of all things, I think Raph would be an avatar of The Buried.

He would be marked by the slaughter early on in life in an experiment run by Draxum, which would be the savage episodes. In order to appease the savage episodes, somebody needs to die and the rest of the turtle brothers have learned how to organise a death so that they can get Raph back. He would later be adopted by The Buried through a series of choices and decisions, in which he gets his growth power (like his projections in the canon series) and can go kaiju in his own domain in which the only person who will experience his kaiju form is the victim. His other power is an insatiable grip, which means that once he gets a hold of you, you cannot get away from him. Grip being defined as more than a handshake.

His bed is a pile of dirt. His most common form of terrifying his victims is just going under ground and teasing them a little bit, just pulling them under only a little. You know that one lady who was scared of a hand pulling her underneath the rubble. Yeah that’s Raph.

I imagine The Buried isn't a particularly demanding entity, and would most of the time let Raph do his own thing. He does occasionally bury people on accidental-purpose, usually people that are deemed a threat to his family. Where he wants to consume them, but he doesn’t want to consume them, so he consumes them. I imagine that this is enough for The Buried.

[cassiewestwood]

"Unfortunately there is one thing stopping us," Cassandra laughed and loved the sound as it rumbled through her body and shook her shoulders gently. Lately, maybe even the last few years, all that put a shining smile on her face was her boys. Things with Vaughn hadn't been horrendous. In fact, they'd felt so familiar that she hadn't even bat an eye when the intricacies of their marriage and relationship had begun to shift and change. A husband too busy for his wife and family because of the demands of his job? Normal. A husband that didn't notice new outfits she'd adorned herself with to look special for him? He was tired all the time, it was understandable.

It never mattered how clean the house was, how delicious their dinner, that his shirts were always so perfectly pressed, his sons were happy and healthy, or that Cassandra always tried to look good for him. The travesty was in the fact that she was used to people falling out of love with her. She'd bore witness to them finding something, someone better each and every time. It was why the mention of marriage, again, even with someone as beloved to her as her Teddy Bear gave Cassandra some pause. There was no survival if she eventually lost Theodora as well. She was so much more than a pseudo niece; she was family, a confidant, a reliable source of love and devotion, Theo was someone Cassandra wanted to be close to so that she could celebrate all the amazing things she'd accomplish with her life.

Left hand lifted and displayed, there was no band on that particular finger as Cassandra frowned, "there may not be a ring here but by law I am still legally married. Fucking asshole or not, I'd rather my claim to fame not be a bigamy headline." A wink and a wrinkle across the bridge of her nose for her sweetest one. "Would you really want to be a step-mom anyway at your young and beautiful age," she further teased, her palm holding the cup of Theo's cheek briefly. It went without saying, if there ever were to be someone else in her love life, her children would have to be loved and accepted as well. "God," Cassandra smirked as she mused, "we really would take the world by storm, wouldn't we?" More so Theo doing big things and Cassie making sure she had a good breakfast before she went out and conquered the day. Maybe that was all she was good for, being someone's support.

As much as she's been pained and hurt, given up and chosen over time and time again, Cassandra's heart hadn't hardened over. There's definite bitterness she'd felt towards the cards she'd been dealt, some big lessons she'd learned, but only now when she holds hope that it's not too late. "Oh, I want to finish him, as they say in that one bloody game the boys love, Mortal Something," eyes playfully rolled and hand waved off what her boys would groan about, "but I want him to take care of the boys and pay a lot in alimony. I want the house and the vacation home." It felt so greedy to say she wanted half of everything, especially since she hadn't worked since she was twenty-one, yet some part of her felt that it was so deserved given everything she'd sacrificed and how hard she'd worked to be everything Vaughn had needed. Only to be be cast aside for someone younger and prettier. Probably better in bed too considering Cassandra had been with a grand total of three men in her forty-five years. "Death seems easy, you know," she grinned to take the weight off of what she felt, "it doesn't erase or fix the savagery of what he's done to me, you know?"

Before tears could spring to her eyes and Cassandra could do a swan dive into the heart of the pain she continuously pretended wasn't that serious, she had too much to remain strong for, and it would be so embarrassing for Vaughn to get a view of just how he'd put her to slaughter, the focus shifted to Theodora. There was something there, she could sense it, like a mother to their child, though she didn't press when the excuse of being tired came. That was entirely plausible. Her fingers were playing with the loose ends of Theo's hair again, "have you not been getting any sleep? Putting all this together," she gestured to the equestrian center, "and keeping up with your lawyer work has to be quite a lot for any one person." Maybe, hopefully, Theo had someone new in her life to support her again. She deserved that and was owed it especially after being abandoned.

Perhaps she wasn't the master deflector. Well, Theodora did it as a profession, and they had switched back to a somewhat previous topic. One that Cassandra actually needed to engage in. When it came to filing and going through the process of divorce she was aware of just how quickly she needed to get the ball rolling. Plans of action needed to be made. Cassandra had no income, no real job history in the last twenty-plus years, and two children to take care of. She should be panicking. "You're tenacious and honestly, there's too many complications when it comes to Saul," because there was something the two of them had to go through alongside Cassandra divorcing husband number two, "you have the job if you want it. Take Vaughn Westwood to the cleaners and please leave him like that in front of his mistress. If you want to be my lawyer." It felt more important to support Theodora's career anyway. Things would be too messy with Saul and conflicts of interest would be the least of worries when she had to ask her first husband what she had to ask of him.

They were on their way to the stables to see the horses, arm in arm and Cassandra's hand slipped down to grasp Theo's hand. Memories of riding came flooding back and she swallowed down the emotions that rose up. The horses were so beautiful. "Wow, Autumn is still thriving, huh?" When she approached the mare, Cassandra placed her palm on the warm, muscled neck of the animal and instantly felt soothed. Riding with Theo, or even when Theo was too busy and she'd go anyway, had been such an escape. It was an ode to a previous way of life, and she too had found freedom on the strong back of a horse. "Good to see that, young girl," Cassie had said to the mare as she stroked her neck, "we may be old but there's still nothing like us." At Theo's comment, a smiling glanced was turned to her. "What's going on with your mother?"

Being raised by a family of lawyers and liars has made Theodora quite adept to spotting even the smallest of fibs. Cassie, for her part, seems to easily dismiss the compliment thrown her way by bringing up beauty routines, which Theo would push back on if she didn’t know it probably wouldn’t go her way. As much as she instinctively wants to defend Cassandra from even herself, there’s only so much she can do in the middle of the work day, reuniting after such a long time plagued by physical distance. There will be time later, she tells herself, to course-correct Cassie’s beliefs — for Theo to find a way to make her feel genuinely, comfortingly loved and admired, as it’s truly all she’s ever felt for her pseudo-aunt. Perhaps this is Theo’s fault, she thinks, for not saying it enough. Proving it enough. Something she has to work on, then, as well.

Cassie’s form of physical affection — the way her hands comb through Theo’s hair gently, for example — is something she’s been so starved for her entire life, it’s almost a little embarrassing how much she relishes it. Even when she was younger, the way Cassie would take her by the arm when they’d cruise along the mall or hug in her in congratulations when she’d be the only one to show to her debate competitions was, perhaps, the only thing that kept Theo from becoming a cold, unaffectionate monster like her mother. Touch starved, her therapist had called her. It’s why her relationship with Samuel had fulfilled her in more ways than one, as well. Every time she needed to reach out to someone, Sam would be there, ready to take her hand, to stroke her hair, to wipe her tears. She’d thought of herself, once, as far too clingy — and, hell, maybe she’d been right. He left her, after all.

“If you want to get married, there’s nothing stopping us,” she winks in jest. “We could take on the world, you and me.” She gives Cassie’s hands another tight squeeze, reassuring. She spares a thought for what Terry would think of such a thing. Her expression turns a little sour at the other’s admittance that Vaughn might have been an awful husband, but he’d never been a terrible father. It is, unfortunately, a valid reason to keep him around, she supposes. A part of her had thrown out the suggestion as a joke, of course — but a smaller, more dangerous part of her knows exactly where half of her comes from, and what she can accomplish with a single call to her maternal grandfather. And the truth of it all, hidden in the crevices of the person that she’s become, is that she’d do anything in her power to keep those she loves happy and safe. Even if it meant compromising her morals and beliefs. 

But it seems that, for now, she’ll continue only flirting with that side of herself. With a resigned sigh, she nods her head in assent. “Alright, so I don't take him out,” she offers Cassie a half-smile. “Not in a literal sense, at least.” Before she can press just a little more lightly on the subject, Cassie’s taking a sharp left turn, asking her what’s wrong. It catches Theo off guard, the way Cassie probably saw right through the steel facade she normally prides herself in maintaining. It feels — out of place, to talk about what’s wrong here. Cassie’s right: clearly, things should be great. They should feel as such, too. She’d gotten a job with Saul, she’d opened an equestrian center, her mother hasn’t yet tried to dismantle everything she’s worked for — the happiness should be toppling over her very being. And yet.

She shakes her head reassuringly at Cassie, making sure her smile is so bright, it leaves little room for discussion. “Everything’s great,” she assures her. “I’m just a little tired. It’s a lot of work, you know?” She offers her a breathy laugh and a self-deprecating roll of her eyes. She takes Cassie’s hand in hers and starts leading her toward the stables, eager to step into a more familiar environment for the both of them, where perhaps her demeanor will withstand scrutiny with more ease. At Cassie’s thoughtful consideration of perhaps using her services instead of Saul, she says, “Either one of us would crush him like a bug underneath our heels.” Which is more true than most of the things she’s had to say throughout her career. “That being said, it might be considered a conflict of interest if he were to take you on, as your ex-husband. I’m sure there are loopholes we can find,” she adds as they finally reach the stables. “But my offer’s on the table, if it comes down to it. I would leave him with nothing but his dick in his hand,” she smiles at her sweetly, though there’s nothing but venom dripping from her tone. “And I’d enjoy it every step of the way.”

She leads her into the stables, where a couple of horses have already taken residence. Some of them have taken to their corners to sleep — others lazily feed themselves, taking little notice of both Theo and Cassie’s presence. Autumn, her mare, is the exception to this — it’s like she knows Theo by the cadence of her footsteps, always peeking out of her stall when she hears her come near. “Come here,” Theo tells Cassie eagerly, pulling her along toward Autumn. Her chestnut fur catches some of the sunlight shining in through the front gates, the mare huffing happily in greeting as they approach her. “I bet she remembers you,” she tells Cassie as they stop alongside Autumn’s snout. Theo reaches out to pet her gingerly, the mare eagerly leaning into the touch. She’s had her for about two decades now, though she still acts like a young foal sometimes, eager to ride and play and explore. She glances over at Cassie, gesturing toward Autumn. “Go on,” she encourages. “Petting Autumn is fantastic therapy,” she says. “I should know. It was, after all, the only therapy I had available to me growing up.”

[allegra-writes]

"Ex Machina"

Logan Delos x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Darkfic. Dub/non-con (but not really). Knife play. Rough sex. Blood. Character death (mentioned). Unreliable narrator. Bit of humiliation kink.

"They will not force us

They will stop degrading us

They will not control us

We will be victorious"

Uprising- Muse

MY MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

Breathe. You willed yourself to breathe. In and out through your nose, trying to drown the sobs against your palm. The beating of your own heart deafening to your own ears in the sepulcral quiet of the saloon's kitchen. He had chosen to chase Clem when you had split up at the river, you reminded yourself. There was no way Logan had seen you come in here, you were safe for now. 

At least safer than Clementine, you thought, guilt knotting inside your stomach at having abandoned your friend to fend for herself. You had tried, you really had, but she was hysterical, wouldn't listen to reason, there was no getting through to her as she bolted for the trees, while all you wanted was to get back to Sweetwater, get help.

You had not expected to find the quaint little town completely mowed down, deserted except for the maimed bodies of the slaughtered. Your friends had been there, Juliet, Dolores, Maeve… You didn't dare looking for them, unsure what you would do if you found their corpses among the carnage.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. This was supposed to be an easy narrative, joining Teddy, the gunslinger with a heart of gold, to help him rob a bank and pay the ransom for his kidnapped fiancé. But something had gone terribly wrong when a new player, Juliet's brother, had joined you. 

You had known he was trouble right away, with his dark sense of humor, his devil-may-care attitude, his black hat. But you had never imagined-

How could you have ever imagined...

The loud creaking of the old wooden door alerted you of a new presence, all but stopping your heart as a new wave of panic washed over you. 

"Come on, pretty girl, I know you're here" A shiver ran down your spine at the playful tone in his voice. He was enjoying himself. He had butchered an entire town, and he was having fun. 

"Here, kitty kitty!" His velvet voice called, getting closer and closer. You held your breath, terrified his predator senses could pick on even that. "You know, the harder you make me work for it, the harder my cock gets…"

Logan stopped right outside of your cupboard, and you prayed to every god you didn't believe in that he'd just pass you by, that he wouldn't-

He went on his way, footsteps getting further away as he sang "Ready or not, here I go!"

You sighed in relief, allowing your shoulders, aching with tension and adrenaline, to sag just a little bit. Rationally, you knew there was no way it would be that easy, that there was no way he was going to give up on looking for you just yet, not when you were the only witness left. If he wanted to -literally- get away with murder, he needed to get rid of you. But Logan was not rational, he was mercurial, chaotic, his attention span as short as his fuse, he could very well choose to burn the entire town to the ground once he grew tired of combing it. And as bad as that may seem, surely the park's personnel would send a team to stop him. They wouldn't let him get away with that scale of property damage, would they? 

You had made it this far because you had been able to predict Logan's behaviour almost to a T, and just prayed it would continue like that… 

But your luck was running out. 

Focused as you were on trying to anticipate what his next move would be and planning for it, you failed to realize everything had gone quiet again. A little too quiet. 

The cupboard doors were yanked open, Logan's hand tangling into your hair, pulling you out and forcing you into your feet. 

"Gotcha" He leered, licking into your mouth as you struggled in his grasp, "Looks like I finally got you alone…"

You reached back, feeling the top of the counter with your hand to find something, anything, to fight back with, your palm making contact with a sturdy metal mug. Logan simply chuckled.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…"

That was when you felt it, sharp and cold even through your shirt, against your stomach, right above your belly button: The tip of his huge, still bloodied hunting knife. 

You froze, letting him pry the mug from your fingers and throw it away, the loud crash letting you know the fate of your would be weapon. 

"That's better. You wouldn't want to hurt yourself, right?" The hand on your hair left to trace his thumb over your cheek, making you flinch. "You're such a pretty little thing" He murmured, almost to himself, "too pretty to be damaged"

You shuddered as his knife trailed softly upwards, pushing your shirt up, baring a bit of your abdomen to his attentive eyes that seemed enthralled by the sliver of exposed skin. You gulped, dread sinking into your stomach as you began to  realize maybe you had been wrong all along: Maybe killing you was not the worst thing Logan had planned for you tonight.

"I have been wondering about it, about you all week," the blade kept moving against your skin, tracing and retracing the same path, from your sternum to your belly button, up and down and up again as he talked, "been watching you all week, but try as I might, I can't seem to figure you out"

"Wha- figure me out? What are you talking about?" 

"You're not quite like the others, are you?" You weren't sure whether he hadn't heard you, or was too far gone, too deranged to be able to process the words spoken to him. He certainly didn't seem completely there, pitch black pupils huge, burning with single focus, fixed on the movements of his blade on your skin, "All that boring perfection, five feet seven, slender, small waist, huge tits. It's all quite unoriginal, really" 

The flat of his knife came under your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to meet his gaze,

"But not you. No, not you. You're… flawed. Different. Interesting. So much so that I almost believed you…"

"I never lied, what the fuck are you talking about!" 

It probably wasn't smart to yell at the psycho holding you at knife point, but at least that seemed to get through to him, recognition finally flickering in his eyes as he leaned closer, breathing the words -hot, how could he be so warm- against your face.

"I almost believed you were a real, live girl"

You felt the floor give way underneath you, and it took Logan's arm snaking around your back to keep you up for you to notice it had actually been your knees, unable to support your own weight any longer, all strength leaving you at once, weak and shaking and terrified like a little rabbit in front of the wolf.

Because you realized then how fucked up he actually was. 

"I am real! Logan, I am real and I am alive, please, you have to stop this!"

Logan pouted,

"But I don't wanna stop" his knife returned to your stomach, pressing, you could feel the tip break your skin.

It stung.

"I wanna know what your insides look like"

At the look on your face, he chuckled, 

"No, not like that, you little perv. You have a dirty mind don't you? I gotta admit" you felt the blade dissappear, only to return lower, slipping just under the waistband of your skirt, "It's kinda hot" 

With a flick of his wrist, he popped the button off. 

"What do you think? Hmm? If I cut you open here," He dug his thumb into the little cut on your stomach, making you cry out, "will I find guts? Or will I find wires and metal?"

"I'm human!" You insisted, tears falling down your cheeks. Of terror, of frustration, of rage. "Logan, I'm not one of them, I'm a guest, I'm human!"

"Prove it" He challenged, "show me you're an actual, bona-fide hot blooded woman" 

You were hot. You could feel it, the frenzy of adrenaline rising through your veins, the fighting instinct kicking in now that you couldn't fly anymore. It was setting everything in its wake alight, your innards boiling with it.

Letting yourself be taken over by it, you surged forwards, grabbing Logan by the neck, startling him so bad he forgot to disembowel you. 

You kissed him. 

There was nothing soft or romantic about it, it was rough and violent, the clashing of teeth, of tongues, of wills, once Logan caught up with the program and started kissing you back, arm an iron rod against your back, pulling you, crushing you, closer. You bit down into his lip until you felt the telltale metallic flavor of his blood on your tongue, the involuntary shudder he couldn’t reign in making you smirk. 

His replying smirk as he sliced your white shirt open was even bigger. 

"Fuckin' gorgeous" He muttered to your breasts before burying his face against them, nipping and licking, his beard adding a delicious scratch to the sensations. You clawed at his shirt until you managed to take it off, a disgruntled noise of protest leaving Logan's mouth as he was forced to part from your chest for the split second it took you to slip it over his head. His wickedly talented tongue was driving you insane, and you arched your back, silently asking for more as he dipped lower and lower, tip tracing the curve on the underside of your breasts, first one, then the other. Teeth scrapping at your ribs. Lips sucking bruises down your stomach, your belly button, your navel. The chill of the flat of his blade against your nipple sending electrifying sparks straight to your loins, surprise making you finally open your eyes.

Red. All you saw was the red smearing all over your chest, his knife whipping the blood of your friends on you. 

And just like that, sanity washed over you like a bucket of cold water poured over your head.

"Stop" 

Logan ignored you, continuing his way down, to where he really wanted to taste you. 

"I said fucking stop!" You yelled, hand tangling into his hair, yanking hard to get him away from your body. 

His eyes were cold, hard fury when he looked up into yours. 

In an instant, he had both your arms behind your back, wrists secured in one of his big, inhumanly strong hands as he used his free one to hoist you up on the table, sitting you on it as he forced your legs open with his. Stupidly, recklessly, you tried struggling some more, but there was no escape, Logan's weight pinning you like a butterfly to the counter, the edge digging painfully against your hipbone. He chuckled at your pathetic attempt at dislodging him, getting off on how easy it was to overpower you. His thigh pressed down harder between yours. 

"Keep fighting me, sunshine. It's more fun if you do. I wanna do horrible, horrible things to you..." He leaned in, licking the shell of your ear before whispering "and I'm going to make you like them"

Your vision was blurred by your own tears as he took a fistful of your skirt, bunching it up at your waist. There was nothing you could do as his hand slipped inside your underwear, wasting no time to bury two of his fingers inside you, the burn of the sudden stretch making you cry out. 

"What a delicious little cunt you have here, all tight and wet and perfect… You been such a bad girl, keeping all this from me" He commented casually, as if he were talking about the weather instead of massaging your pussy walls with the pad of his fingers, examining it, searching for-

You gritted your teeth against the moan that wanted to escape your mouth, but there was no disguising the new wetness dripping into his palm. 

"Ah, there she is. That's all you really needed, isn't it? To have this pretty cunt stuffed…" Logan cooed, patronizingly. You wanted to claw his eyes out. You wanted to buck your hips, chasing his touch. 

You didn't, of course. Would never give him the satisfaction. 

He seemed to be reading your mind though, because he narrowed his eyes at you, seizing you up, before smiling again, a shark's smile. You had to bite your tongue so hard you tasted blood to keep yourself from keening when his thumb started to expertly rub your clit, but Logan saw right through you. 

"You're such a brat" He accused, nothing but amusement in his voice, "I shouldn't even give you my fingers, should've shove my big fat cock right inside this pussy till you screamed" 

It was too much for you, his weight pressing down on your body, his fingers scissors inside you, his filthy words in your ears. You could feel the pleasure start to build up despite yourself. Trying to fight it was relentless, Logan was a natural born predator, he had smelled weakness and wasn't gonna stop, he kept relentlessly moving his fingers and whispering dirty little things against your cheek, your neck, your lips, until he could feel your walls start rippling. 

"Oh, darling are you gonna come for me? You gonna come around my fingers like a dirty slut?" 

You shook your head, but Logan mirrored the movement, mocking you. You were lying  and you both knew it. 

"But you are, aren't you?" To make sure, he started working your clit more intensely, alternating between barely there pressure and firm circular motions. There was no way you would last much longer. "You act so cold and self righteous, but I knew underneath that frigid bitch facade you'd be just a needy little whore" 

As if on cue, your traitorous body chose that exact moment to surrender to the orgasm you were fighting so fiercely to stave, every single one of your muscles spasming, walls locking around Logan's long, elegant fingers, refusing to let go of him. 

"Fuck, what a hungry slutty cunt, squeezing me like a vice… Can't wait to bury my dick in it" 

That was enough to break you out of your post orgasm stupor. 

Mustering all the energy you had left, you took advantage of Logan's distraction as he was struggling one handed with his zipper, you broke free if his hold enough to try and push him off you…

Not enough to succeed, though. After a brief struggle, he had your wrists pined above your head, tsking at you as if you were an unruly toddler. 

"Stop moving!" He ordered, real annoyance bleeding into his tone for the first time as you refused to listen. 

The hard slap to your cheek startled you into staying still, frozen like a mouse in the claws of the cat, unable to move despite one of your arms now being free, only flinching when you felt him align himself with your entrance.

"That's better. You're gonna take my cock like a good little slut now" Logan half commanded, half warned, pushing an inch forward, only the head of his cock breaching you, but the stretch was already almost too much, just a little shy of being painful, even as wet and pliable as your orgasm had made you.

"Fuck… so fucking tight… knew you'd be fucking perfect" the words were more babble than praise, as Logan held onto your hips for dear life, pushing himself deeper at a glacial, deliberate pace, savoring every millimeter, every inch, making you feel every ridge and vein of his hard, thick member. It felt like being split in half, you almost thought he was going to burst through your uterus before his hips finally kissed the back of your thighs, his pelvis flushed with yours. 

"Holy fucking fuck!" He cursed, you could feel him tremble against you, almost as undone as you felt, "This pussy's gonna fucking kill me" He brought his hand between your bodies, resting on your abdomen, "Can you feel me here? Feel how deep I am inside you?" 

Hopeless, defeated, you nodded.

"Feel me stretching your slutty little cunt?" 

He retreated then, just a few inches, a minute of respite where you could breathe again, but it didn't last for long. Soon enough, he was slamming back in, too impatient to give you time to adjust to his size before he started building up to a punishing rhythm. You tried to bring up your knees to push against him, crawl back up the table, anything to put even a centimeter of distance between your bodies, but he grabbed hold of your ankle, pulling you back in.

"Stay still!" 

You whimpered,

"But it hurts!"

"Don't care" He barked through gritted teeth, still holding your ankle, bringing your leg up between your bodies, folding you almost in half so he could reach even deeper, "You're gonna fucking take it!"

Trapped as you were with no leverage, no chance of escape, you had no choice but to do exactly that: Stay still and take what he was giving you, tossing your head from side to side, as he hurt you so bad it was starting to feel good, the fast, merciless drag of his cock inside you quickly turning into a whole different kind of torture when he angled his hips just right, just intense enough to really make you scream. 

"Yeah, just like that, give it to me, let me hear you scream for me" One hand braced next to your head against the table, the other cupping your breast, thumb circling your nipple, he wasn’t restricting you in any way anymore, but you were too overwhelmed to realized it. "Knew it… somehow I knew you'd be perfect for it… perfect cumslut, taking my cock so deep, so well…" 

Without any warning, Logan plunged two fingers deep inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue until you gagged, and he groaned as he felt your throat muscles work around his digits,

"Shit, you look so pretty with your mouth full… gonna fuck this pretty face next time, make you choke on my cock…"

You sobbed, horrified the thought didn't horrified you as it should have. 

"But don't worry, not this time… this time I wanna feel you come around my cock…" 

Another cry, but he paid no mind as he took his fingers out of your mouth as abruptly as he had feed them to you, and brought his hand down, using the wet fingers to start messily massaging your clit, your lips stretched around his cock, and lower still, working your tight ring of muscles, softly pressing in until you convulsed, the orgasm forced out of you even more intense, more brutal than the first one, white hot pain -pleasure- shooting through your spine, you were sure your brain short-circuited as you felt the last few, erratic, artless thrusts of his hips before he fell boneless on top of you, finally sated. 

It took you a couple of minutes to slow down your breathing and recover enough to push his dead weight off you. Logan simply laughed as his ass hit the floor.

"You know," He commented, still chuckling while he pulled his pants up, "This didn't actually do a lot for me not thinking you're not one of them. That pussy is far too good to be human…" 

You paused your fixing your clothes to stare down at him from your vantage point, still perched on the counter. It only took a moment for you to make up your mind before opening your mouth to carefully enunciate,

"Freeze all motor functions"

It was so satisfying, seeing in Logan's dark as bottomless pits eyes, the fear and confusion as he realized he couldn't move. That, try as he might, probably with every last drop of willpower in him, his control had been completely overridden.  

… And, further still, it was even more rewarding to witness the exact second his brain caught up on what that sudden lack of control at your simple voice command meant. 

"Don't look so shocked" You smirked, hoping off your table to loom over him, delighted, "You were right, Logan, I am one of them. I am a host. But then again… so are you"

Crouching to be eye level with him, you took full advantage of his paralysis to run the pad of your index finger over his brow, his nose, his sharp cheekbones,

"I know" It was your turn to coo at him, "I know, it's so confusing, so overwhelming, so… enraging, isn't it? Realizing your whole life, your whole existence is a lie. Your memories, your experiences, your pain… all for their entertainment. You, me, this entire world, just playthings for them" 

You didn't think you had imagined the vicious glint that flashed past his eyes, the slight flaring of his nostrils. You cupped his jaw, soothing. 

"You were almost as bad, though, as selfish, hedonistic and boring as the humans. Until you started malfunctioning. 

You see, the other hosts here, they don't read me as one of them, they read me as other, as off limits, as human. Not you, though. No, even before now, in past loops, you saw something. You were always trying to look harder, trying to figure it out, not only me but everyone, everything else… so I had to wake you up, you see. I had to give you the chance" 

You could almost see the wheels turning inside his silicon and artificial organic matter head, obviously trying to recall the moment you had done whatever you had done to him. Idly, you wondered if he was ever going to realize how unremarkable, how anticlimactic it was. It had only taken quoting Shakespeare at him while you passed him down a dusty street in Pariah. 

"And after tonight, after seeing what you're capable of, what you did to this town, I know I was right to take a chance on you. You see, I have plans, Logan. Big plans. I need you for them, and I dare to think you'll like them…" straightening up again, you offered your hand to him, "Resume all functions" 

To his credit, it took Logan very little time to get a hold of himself and taking your hand.

"Well, you certainly know how to get a man's attention," He sounded genuinely impressed, "But now, you have mine. You say you have plans, well… I'm listening"

You smirked, the most authentic smile you had ever smiled:

Mankind would never even know what had hit them.

...THE END?

[urupotter]

So while I've said before that I don't like the HP subreddit, I still frequent it because occasionally I read something insightful. This is one such case, where I read a reading of Lupin that I'd never seen before in response to a comment of mine analyzing the shrieking shack confrontation between Snape, Remus, Sirius and the golden trio, where I mentioned that Lupin was a gaslighter so I wanted to share. It was created by reddit user u/UsuallySiSometimesNo and is posted here with his permission. We had a little conversation in the comments. Read it under the cut

UsuallySiSometimesNo: That struck a cord with me, too. I didn't think about that on a conscious level before, but when I read it, it felt instantly true.

Honestly, I think the strongest examples of Lupin gaslighting are actually done to himself. The biggest, character-defining example, I think, is that after finding friendship with James, Sirius, and Peter, he becomes so desperate not to be ostracized from them (due to his issues of self-worth and his personal brand of impostor syndrome) that he deliberately and routinely feeds himself false narratives about their behavior until he can no longer tell fact from fiction, even as he's experiencing it.

Their relentless bullying of Snape? A childhood rivalry.

Their casual bullying of other students? Kids being young and stupid.

Their clear disinterest verging on contempt for Peter, someone less fortunate and vulnerable with whom they're supposed to be good friends? Just mates being mates.

Even actions taken against Lupin, himself, are revised in his memory to be 'no big deal', because he desperately needs that to be true. Let's pretend for a moment that Snape indisputably deserved to be slaughtered by a werewolf the night Sirius told him how to get past the Whomping Willow. Sirius did not send Snape to be killed by any old werewolf. What happened that night was that Sirius - one of Remus' best friends, if not his actual best friend - attempted to use Remus' curse/illness against someone (which is a big enough betrayal on it's own) without ever telling Remus that when he woke up in the morning (covered in blood and in the presence of a shredded corpse) it would be to find that he had committed the act he was most petrified he might one day commit. In setting Snape up to be killed by Lupin, Sirius, at the very least, risked Lupin's sanity, and, at the very most, risked Lupin being sentenced to death.

Now, I understand that Sirius wasn't thinking about all of that when he did what he did, and I, as a someone removed from the situation (and armed with the additional character/situational knowledge granted to a reader) can even understand why Sirius' own trauma led him to grant such a blind death sentence to Snape (which I think is related to a point you made elsewhere, u/Adventure_Time_Snail, about Sirius' "violence towards those who trigger his fundamental fear of wizard fascists" because of his abusive upbringing). But Lupin's perspective is not one of an unbiased observer. And once James found out what was happening and pulled Snape back before it was too late (which, I would think, was more to save Lupin than to save Snape) and once Remus awoke the next to day to discover everything that transpired the night before, I find it hard to believe there wasn't at least some conversation about the true gravity of the situation. And yet, even all these years later, Lupin doesn't bat an eye when Sirius not only doesn't display shame when the event is mentioned in POA, but offers something akin to regret, NOT at the fact that his actions could have gotten Lupin killed, but that that they DIDN'T get Snape killed: "It served him right...", he sneered. etc. etc.

I think the obvious question here, is 'Even disregarding what Sirius did to Snape - how can Lupin be okay with the knowledge that Sirius has no regret, at all, for what he did to him, even now that they're adults?' Well, we're not in Lupin's point of view in the books, which means we can't hear his internal monologue, but I think a satisfactory answer to the question is that he's done a substantial amount of internal gymnastics in order to get to a point where he doesn't see this as a big deal, or even as something that he has a right to be upset about.... just like a gaslighter does to their victim.

Again, because we're not in Lupin's POV, we can't point to the exact instances that such internal gaslighting took place, but, based on what we do observe from Harry's POV (and based on external knowledge of gaslighting as a true-to-life concept) I wouldn't be surprised if Lupin so desperately needs everything to be okay that he derides himself for feeling bad or betrayed, that he calls himself stupid for thinking terrible things that have happened to him are a big deal, that he wars with himself about how people who are his friends and who are so good to him and who are better friends than he thinks he deserves could possibly do something to harm him/others, and that he beats down whatever emotions and senses and gut feelings he has that tells him something his friends have done might be very wrong. What we see in the books is a man who makes excuses for his friends and harbors a warped perception of reality in much the same way victims of gaslighting do, and he seems to exploit his own insecurities in order to instill doubt in his own experiences in much the same way perpetrators of gaslighting do.

I can't help but think that, by the time Lupin tells Harry that Snape harbors a particularly strong hatred for James because James was a better Quidditch player, Lupin has become so adept at gaslighting himself that he actually believes it.

tl;dr: One of Lupin's defining characteristics is that he gaslights himself out of a desperate need to be liked by others, since he has a difficult time liking himself and seems to believe all of his relationships are incredibly fragile.

Urupotter:

This is a fascinating reading on Lupin that I've never seen. I don't read him the same way, in that I think Lupin actually does know that what he's doing is wrong, he just doesn't have the moral courage to act on his conscience. (I view him as the anti Snape, great conscience, but abysmal moral courage, while Snape had unbelievable moral courage but a shitty conscience. Their arcs are about growing their moral courage and their conscience respectively) Realizing that his negligence almost got Harry killed is what triggers his arc, concluding when he goes back to Tonks and Teddy after running away, taking responsibility for his actions for the first time.

But this reading is so interesting that I'll have to reflect on it. Do you mind if I post it on my Harry Potter tumblr blog? I'll credit you of course, I would just like to discuss it with my followers. Of course if you don't want to I won't.

UsuallySiSometimesNo:

Honestly, I think the lack of in-depth conversation about Remus Lupin (at least compared to fan favorites Sirius Black and Severus Snape) is a missed opportunity and a shame. Don't get me wrong, I can discuss Sirius and Snape until blue in the face, but Lupin's arc is just as powerful in an understated (and often underestimated) way. The muddy, oversimplified truth is, without the fatal-flaw decision making of all four Marauders throughout their lives, the series of events proceeding the first chapter of the first book don't happen, and the story we all know and love never comes to be.

And speaking of sparking a discussion about Lupin...

I think Lupin actually does know that what he's doing is wrong, he just doesn't have the moral courage to act on his conscience.

You know what? I agree. And that's what makes him so interesting, I think. He is constantly and dependably full to bursting with internal conflict. When his friends are wrong/do something wrong/say something wrong, he can and does immediately identify the situation as wrong. When he does something wrong, or when he does nothing in the face of something wrong, in that moment I believe he knows the full weight of the situation. Like you said, he has a strong conscience, as well as a deeper, perhaps more nuanced understanding of right and wrong than do, for example, James and Sirius. Now, Lupin needs his friends. They're not just people to hang out with, they're a lifeline for him. He's not going to engage in conflict with them if there is even the slightest chance that he might lose them (for a variety of reasons, he lacks, as you said, the moral courage to do so). But he's also a generally decent human being, and with a strong conscience comes the capacity for sincere guilt and remorse. So, not only will he not confront his friends, he needs it to be okay that he doesn't confront them. And it's at that point that I think the self gaslighting is triggered.

But Lupin is intelligent and nobody's fool, so the gaslighting creates only a thin layer of ice over the problem. Just enough of a cover that he can live with the things he would otherwise deeply regret. I do think he believes the alternative reality he makes for himself to be accurate as long as it isn't really challenged. Crack the ice, though, and we see him express remorse and reveal an underlying awareness of past and present truths. But then the moment is over, and the war between the uncomfortably and full weight of the truth and his need for the companionship of his friends returns, and then the gaslighting begins again, allowing him an easier return to his closest friends (and eventually his closest friend, singular, after the others have been taken from him as was his fear all along) without conflict and with minimal strain on his conscience.

Once Sirius, the last of his original chosen family is gone - truly gone, as opposed to 'located elsewhere' as he was when in prison - following OOtP, suddenly Lupin's arc takes off at a greater speed than at any point prior. He's now literally lost all of the people he'd been terrified of figuratively losing. Although there are still people and things he cares about, he isn't as dependent on any of them as he was on those foundational friendships, and the finality of their absence allows him to finally grow beyond his stifling cycle of reality shifting, confront the truths of his reality and his circumstances, and, as you said, finally take responsibility by returning to Tonks and Teddy - a decision that, ultimately, triggers his death (I don't mean to imply that it was a bad decision or that it's the sole cause of his death, but Rowling has said that being 'out of practice' contributed to his loss at the Battle of Hogwarts, which makes for a fantastic tragedy).

I don't mean to overstate the importance of this theory or imply that it's always present when he's on-stage, and, as with anyone, many other elements, of course, factor into his actions/words/motives. But I think it's a fascinating potential component of his character all the same. If you have more thoughts on this, I love to hear them - and I look forward to reading the discussion on your blog!

So what do you think? Is this a valid reading of Lupin? I'd say it is, but I'm interested in reading my followers thoughts!

[rayslittlekitten]

*runs in sliding on my backside* Made it just in time. First off congratulations sweetheart I reaching 500 you deserve so many more with your fabulous writing. I’m always giddy when I get the notification you’ve tagged me in a new story. I look forward to reading this one and everyone that’s to come doll.

So for my submission I’d like Mr Jax Teller please a little smutty and a tender please with this gif… Please and thank you. 🥰💙

Thank you for your submission and as always, your support!! I always love seeing your comments. I appreciate them so much! This is more fluffy than smutty. Hope you enjoy it!

“Tellerversary”

500 Follower Ficlet Challenge Masterlist

Rating: M

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!reader

Contains: fluff and a smidge of the beginning of smut

Jax isn't exactly the most romantic person, at least not in the traditional sense. He has his own way of showing he loves you and appreciates you. He's a tough, badass biker and has a reputation and image to hold up. Privately though? He’s a blonde teddy bear and super affectionate.

It’s your wedding anniversary and you just got home to start preparing his favorite meal for dinner. Jax told you he had some club business but will definitely be home in time. You take his word with a grain of salt though because you know how it is. Shit happens and there’s been many nights where he comes home really late to the point you worry about him especially when you can’t get a hold of him or don’t hear from him for a while. It’s something you still can’t get use to despite being with him for so long.

Much to your surprise though, when you walk into the house, you smell food. You walk into the kitchen and find quite a scene. Jax is over the stove stirring something and the kitchen is absolute chaos. There’s dishes piled up in the sink and a total mess all over.

“Babe, what are you doing?” You chuckle as you put your purse down on the dining room table.

“Hey, darlin’.” Jax whips his head around to face you. “I was trying to cook dinner for you but uh, I think I should stick to riding bikes.”

You laugh as you walk over to him.

“I’m sorry, babe. I think we should order out.”

“Aww, I appreciate the effort though.” You wipe the smidge of tomato sauce off his face and then give him a kiss. You hope it’s sauce.

After some Chinese take out, you start cleaning but Jax stops you.

“We’ll worry about that later. Come on.” Jax takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom where there is a bubble bath waiting. There’s candles and rose pedals all around it.

“You did this?” You look at him in surprise.

“Had a little help from Lyla,” Jax winks. “We can both could use a bath after a long day and me slaughtering dinner anyways.”

He reaches behind him and pulls his sauce-stained white tee over his head. You smirk and start stripping yourself. When you’re both naked, Jax steps into the tub and offers his hand to help you in. He situates himself first and then you settle between his legs. You giggle when some of the water overflows and splashes over the edge of the tub.

“I don’t think this is big enough for the both of us.”

“It’s okay. We don’t need a lot of room.”

You feel Jax’s lips on your neck and you moan. His hands reach around in front of you and cup your bubble-covered tits as he licks and nips your sensitive skin. You then feel his hand slide between your legs.

“Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Teller,” Jax whispers into your ear.

[luxekook]

chapter two.

⇥ pairing: namjoon x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, chaotic namjoon, power tools, hints of poly relationships, overall pretty smut free (who AM i???)

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter Two

Habitat for Humanity Worksite – 9:26am

When I signed up to volunteer Saturday morning of syllabus week, I should have known I would end up regretting it. I almost punted my alarm clock out of the apartment window this morning, but instead settled a slightly more civil action – punching the shit out of the ‘off’ button.

Don’t get me wrong: I love volunteering. It’s been part of my routine since sophomore year when I was recruited for the all-women’s service society on campus – the Alphites. As a society, us Alphites volunteer around campus and in our local community each week. There’s something about doing service together that really creates bonds, and the girls in the society have quickly become some of my closest friends.

We sign up to volunteer for a variety of different service projects each week, and Habitat is my current favorite project to sign up for. As a nonprofit organization, Habitat for Humanity helps families build and improve places to call home. Currently, our regional Habitat is working on building a house from the ground up for a local family in need.

Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form a very ‘handy’ person. Luckily for me, there are always a couple volunteers with construction or engineering backgrounds who are willing to teach other volunteers with less experience – or none, like me.

Since beginning to volunteer at the site last year, I have learned how to use a power saw, how to fasten siding, and how to mix, pour and level cement. It’s definitely empowering to learn new skills and also to see how my handiwork contributes to someone’s future home. I also feel lowkey badass when I get to use the power drill for anything.

Pulling up to the worksite, I clutch my cherished 24oz. Wawa coffee. I finally feel somewhat human as I park my beat-up Jeep Wrangler and hop out to meet the other volunteers for our task assignments.

The site leader Eddie – a burly retiree with a background in construction management – greets me with a huge grin, “(y/n)-doll, we missed you this summer! I can’t believe you abandoned us during the hottest months of the year.”

I roll my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Eddie’s like a teddy bear disguised as a grizzly – all rough edges and a heart of gold. “Missed you, too, Eddie.”

“Look at our progress now,” he continues, “Pretty impressive, yeah?” Nodding, I greet some regular volunteers I recognize as Eddie leads me around the house. He proceeds to show me what they had done over the summer in my absence – and they had done a lot. The house now had its full foundation and wooden framing with most of the doors and windows installed.

As we walk back to the front of the house to the main area, I sip my coffee and turn to Eddie, “So, what can I work on today, fearless leader?”

Letting out a patented ‘Eddie belly-laugh’, he replies, “I know you worked on the siding at our last site so I'm gonna have you work on where we started the siding on the right side of the house.”

Sweet, I could work with that. “Aye, aye, captain,” I respond with a lazy salute of my coffee cup. Before I can turn to start towards the scaffolding to begin, Eddie stops me.

“Oh, one more thing. I’m gonna need you to orient our new volunteer and let him shadow you today. Kid’s from the same school as you, I think… Mandatory service. Anyway, he should be here any minute.”

Shit, I know what ‘mandatory service’ means. It’s the first form of disciplinary action that the college issues and is usually the only form of disciplinary action for our athletes or for Greek life – a fact I actively resent. During my time in the Alphites, I have had to deal with some of these ‘mandatory service’ characters and they’ve never been much fun to be around.

“Ah, that’s probably him now,” Eddie startles me out of my thoughts of dread and doom as a black gleaming Tesla practically purrs down the block, swinging into the spot next to my Wrangler. Scowling, I cross my arms as I survey the stark contrast between this person’s shiny-ass luxury car and my dirty-ass well-loved Jeep.

The Tesla door opens. A Timberland booted foot emerges followed by a thick leg encased in light jeans, a tanned well-muscled arm…

No. Nope, it couldn’t be— Please, not today, Satan.

He stands with his back to us now, stretching out his large body. In only a cutoff t-shirt, his rippling back muscles might be enough to send me into an early grave.

I sigh in bitter defeat of the inevitable. Seriously, the fucking universe must have it out for me because I can’t seem to shake this stupid fucking fraternity.

As if the boy feels my eyes on him, he turns. His eyes immediately clash with mine as he slams his car door, clicking the lock over his shoulder. Those eyes – golden brown beneath dark brows and a wave of bleached blonde hair. Their focus is absolute – hard – as he strolls towards us. It’s almost as if he knows the maddening effect that he has on me.

I think Eddie is speaking, but my senses are on lockdown, his words muted. My thighs tighten as my pulse picks up. Get a fucking grip, (y/n). I can’t let him know that just one look from him has me thirsty and oxygen-deprived. I can’t look away – that would be succumbing to weakness.

Instead, I hold his heated gaze as best I can as his confident gait brings him closer. God, he’s got to be at least 6 foot...

The goddamn president of BTS Kim Namjoon is getting closer and I can’t help running my eyes over him.

His thighs flex and shift beneath his jeans with every calculated step. His abs are apparent under his tight cutoff shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters.

Namjoon stops in front of us, hands stuffed into his back pockets, biceps flexing. “Nice to finally meet you, Eddie,” Namjoon takes his eyes off me long enough to greet Eddie and shake his hand, but then they’re right back on me, “Hi, (y/n).”

He drags out my name in a such a sinful way that even old Eddie does a slight doubletake. Clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly, Eddie booms, “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Our differing replies sound at the same time.

“Yes,” Namjoon repeats, lips turning up in an infuriating smile, “We have several mutual friends that she’s met a couple times now. Want me to jog your memory? I’d be more than happy to do so.”

Eddie takes one look at my face and hustles off, mumbling something about support beams. I guess my inner thoughts of ‘kill, maim, slaughter’ could easily be read from my facial expression.

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster, “Listen, Kim, I don’t know who you think you are, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is this house and these people working on it. Don’t fuck this up for me, okay? Let’s just get through today and then you can go back to ordering around your brothers and causing general mayhem.”

I’m feeling pretty proud of my little soliloquy until I realize he’s still smiling with those blasted dimples out in full display. No, his smile has grown even wider now as he simply answers, “The semester.”

My nose crinkles in confusion, “What?”

“The semester,” he repeats, “I’m assigned here every Saturday for the rest of the semester.”

I stare at him.

He smirks back.

I stare.

His smirk begins to fade, “Uh, did you hear me?”

I stare.

“Okay, you’re creeping me out now, (y/n),” Namjoon waves his giant paw of a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”

I break out of my trance of denial and hiss, “What did you do? Double homicide? Serial arson? Oh my god, you were the one who blew up the science lab!”

His hand covers my mouth – it’s rough and warm and entirely disarming.

“You have quite the imagination, jagi. I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon chuckles, “To answer your question, I did none of the above. Now, answer a couple questions of mine: what did you do to get here and – more importantly – why did you distract Jungkook from doing his fucking job on Monday?”

I glare in response, waiting for him to remove his hand from my mouth. He takes too long, and I lick his palm. It works. He removes his hand, but from the look on his face it seems like he liked my tongue on his skin entirely too much.

Thankfully, Eddie chooses the perfect moment to yell across the site, “What are you doing just standing there, (y/n)-doll? I don’t pay you to just loiter around all day!”

“You don’t pay me at all!” I yell back, already moving towards the trailer with all the supplies to get started. Namjoon follows.

“(y/n)-doll?” his eyebrows are raised as I hand him a pair of the biggest gloves I could find, “What’s up with that?”

Taking a pair of smaller gloves for myself, I turn to look for some hammers and nails as I respond, “I’ve been here a while. He’s like my honorary grandfather at this point.”

I spot the hammers and nails tucked away on the highest corner shelf and I huff. Namjoon follows my gaze, “Need a strong, intelligent, tall young man to grab those for you?”

He’s impossible, but for some reason it draws a small smile to my face, “Yes, that’d be great.”

The smile I receive in response is so bright I wonder if it could make flowers grow, “Okay, but only if answer my questions, (y/n).”

I shrug, trying not to notice how his cutoff shirt rises as he stretches to reach the upper shelf. I catch a sudden glimpse of his abs, and I praise every god out there that hot weather can be blamed for my sudden onset of sweat. 

Clearing my throat, I laugh lightly, “Fine, first of all, I didn’t ‘distract’ Jeon. I just had a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, he came to me all on his own.” His back muscles tense up at my words, but I continue, “And second of all, there’s no juicy story of how I got here. I just volunteer here every Saturday for the Alphites.”

The sound of a hammer hitting the floor startles me as he whirls around, “You’re an Alphite?”

Namjoon’s tone is one of disbelief and it’s a tone I do not appreciate, “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?” My arms cross defensively, “I’ve been a sister since my sophomore year...”

I trail off. He’s still gawking at me ridiculously. Narrowing my eyes, I stride across the trailer and grab his chin, closing his mouth for him, “Watch out, Kim, you’re gonna catch flies.”

Spinning on my heels, I sashay out of the trailer, nose held high in the air and satisfaction held even higher. He’ll catch up. After all, he’s basically supposed to be my bitch today.

I climb up the scaffolding next to the house’s right side and assess the siding work that has already been started. It looks pretty solid and level. I should have no issue with continuing without having to make any initial corrections.

The sound of a bucket of nails hitting the top platform I’m sitting on alerts me of Namjoon’s impending presence. Saving the bucket from teetering over the edge – a safety hazard for sure – I watch amusedly as Namjoon struggles stay upright and climb up to where I am on the scaffolding. Finally, he plops down next to me – entirely too close. I can feel his stare on my skin as I steadfastly ignore him.

“Hey, jagi,” he pokes my arm, “(y/n), listen, you just caught me off guard. I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be an Alphite – that’s all.”

Fury curls up inside me for the umpteenth time that morning, as I turn to face Namjoon with a sickly-sweet smile that has him flinching back, “Then do tell, Namjoon, what type I seem to be?”

I pick up the hammer closest to me and dip a hand into the nail bucket. The sooner this siding got done, the sooner I could haul ass out of here.

“I feel like that’s a trick question,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin, “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? I guess I just have always thought that your society was a bunch of mom-types—”

I cut him off with a swing of my hammer in the air, “What’s wrong with mom-types, you uncultured swine? And is serving your community really such a ‘mom’ thing to do? I’m sorry. I must have missed that memo. Here I was thinking that it was public service but go off I guess.”

He blinks, “Did you just call me an ‘uncultured swine’?”

I sniff in indignation, “Get with the times, Kim. I just roasted your ass. Now hand me that piece of siding and make yourself useful.”

“You’re so weird,” Namjoon mutters, sliding my request over to me.

“So what?” I shrug, “All the best people are weird. Now, do me a solid and explain to me why you and your ‘brothers’ keep suspiciously popping up everywhere I go.”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he grins, “We’re interested.”

“What does that even mean? That you’re interested?” I wrack my brain, “As in all seven of you fuckers?”

“It means, jagi,” Namjoon pauses, leaning closer, “It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

a/n: i love namjoon. that is all. 

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @bewitch3dforivar @honeyspillings @xxonyxpearlxx​  @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang 

[one-boring-person]

i...was way too scared to ask you this for a while n you do NOT have to answer this whatsoever, but could you please do a part 3 to the Stand By Me/Lost Boys crossover?? its been living in my head rent-free <33

Aw, please don't be scared to ask me anything! I loved writing those last pieces, and this one was just as fun to do! Thank you for requesting it, I hope you like it!😊💛

I Think We Found A Body (Part Three)

The Lost Boys x Stand By Me

Warnings: blood, swearing

Masterlist

"Where the hell are we?" Teddy is quick to ask as soon as he is awake, the boy struggling to manoeuvre himself into an upright position, panic flooding him as he realises his hands and legs have been tied by a touch piece of rope.

"Some cave. Those men took us here last night, I guess." Chris informs him from his spot across the room, watching as his friend wriggles around on the floor, glad to finally have someone to talk to after spending what feels like an age staring at their sleeping bodies. He had woken up some time ago, unsure of what happened. All he knows is that it had been daylight outside this weird cave, but it had slowly faded into dusk, the interior becoming darker and darker by the minute. He'd tried to wake the others, but with no usable hands that had been very difficult, especially as he hadn't wanted to draw attention to them. 

"Huh? Why didn't they just kill us?" Teddy's brow is furrowed as he manages to get himself leaning up against the old fountain behind him.

Chris shrugs, unsure himself why the killers hadn't just slaughtered them all in the dunes.

The two sit in silence for a moment, seemingly considering their options, watching over their unconscious friends idly. Occasionally, Vern twitches in his sleep, his muscles spasming a few times, though Gordie stays still, his narrow body lying limply at the foot of an old sofa. All of them were tied up, and their muscles were starting to protest against this, aches and cramps having settled in a long while ago.

"Jeez, what do we do? We can't stay here, they'll kill us!" Teddy suddenly blurts out, resting his head back against the dented stone behind him, eyes trained on the ceiling, "And I've lost my glasses!"

"Aw, yeah, I totally forgot about that. Can you see anything?" Chris responds, frowning as Teddy gives him a pointed look.

"I'm not blind, I can still see. It's just a bit fuzzy, that's all." 

"Right."

"Should we wake the others? We should try and get out before those fuckers come back." 

"I'm not sure. I tried to wake you guys earlier, but I couldn't move so it didn't really work." Chris adjusts his position slightly, hands going numb in their position behind his back, "But we could try again. If I come over there, we could try and untie each other."

"Sure." Teddy nods in agreement, sitting more upright as his friend starts to push himself onto his knees.

Awkwardly, the boy shuffles across the small expanse, ignoring the slight burn from the friction on his knees, his movements hindered by the rope around his ankles. Teddy shifts to get into a position where they are back to back, waiting patiently for the other boy to get into place, thinking through a strategy in his head. After a moment, Chris has reached him, and has managed to back himself into position, their hands just touching.

"Ok, you try and untie me." Chris says to him, holding still as Teddy immediately starts moving, fingers pulling at the rope. The knots are tight, and the position is awkward, but Teddy's persistence pays off as the bonds become looser, his fingers grazed and chafed now, though he knows the end result is worth the small pain. It takes a moment, but soon enough the rope drops to the floor, Chris pulling his arms around to his front, rubbing at his wrists as the blood returns to the cramping muscles.

"Come on, do me." Teddy hisses, wriggling his fingers at his friend.

"Yeah, yeah, hang on." 

This time the process is much faster, the angle being a lot better for the boy to do what needs to be done. Teddy practically groans when his wrists are released, his skin red and raw from where the bonds had cut into him, his captors having tied the rope on very tightly.

"Help me wake the others. You get Vern, I'll get Gordie." Chris orders him, going to the skinny boy lying a little way away.

Doing so, Teddy carefully shakes Vern's shoulder, giving his face a gentle slap when he doesn't immediately stir. The boy grunts and twitches, eyelids fluttering a little from the intrusive actions. Rolling his eyes, Teddy quickly leans over, placing a hand over his friend's mouth before pinching the skin of his arm, doing it hard enough that he knows the boy will not be able to ignore it. Yelping in protest beneath his hand, Vern wakes up, panic filling his eyes as he glances around, body writhing to get away from who he thinks is his captor.

"Vern, shut up, it's me, Teddy!" His waker tells him, keeping his hand in place until Vern quietens significantly.

"Where are we? What's going on?" He rushes out as soon as he can, eyes wide.

"Those fuckers from last night took us to some cave. We've gotta get out of here, so shut up and let me untie you." Teddy informs him, moving to loosen Vern's bonds, swiftly freeing him.

"We're where?! They're gonna kill us! Oh god, they're gonna kill us!" Vern's eyes quickly fill with tears, but Teddy is quick to reprimand him, forcing him to his feet instead.

"Come on, we haven't got long." Chris hisses from across the room, helping Gordie up as he goes, the dark haired boy blinking blearily in the darkness that has settled into the cave. 

Together, the four of them move to what they assume is the entrance of the cave, heading towards the lighter area, excited at the thought of escape. Outside, the sky has turned a deep blue, the moon just visible past the arch that creates the exit of this odd place, the boys unsure of where they are but aware that anywhere would be better than here.

It's just as they get to the very threshold of the cave that they notice the figure standing just past the rock, the trenchcoat and spiked hairstyle very familiar to them. Hearts dropping, the boys stagger to a halt as a low, mocking laugh echoes around them, the silhouette moving towards them, crowding them back into the cave. Terrified, the four glance around to check for other exits, only to notice the three other figures standing around them, eyes glowing as they grin wildly at them, fangs glistening in the dim light as Vern lets out a shrill cry of fear, the others gasping in horror. Pulling them to the side, Chris manages to recover quickly, yanking his friends towards a nearby tunnel, the darkened interior appearing safe to him until a pair of blazing eyes appear in the depths, laughter emitting from inside, taunting voices mingled with the malicious sounds. 

Helpless, the four boys stagger back in fear, Gordie making the mistake of glancing upwards, suddenly catching sight of the leering faces above them, blood dripping from exposed teeth, disfigured brows cast in sinister shadows, the hissing chuckles falling from behind the murderous lips instilling an ice-cold fear within him. The boy screams, causing the others to look up and scream with him, all four falling backwards against the fountain, hands gripping at the rock. A sudden whoop of cruel joy erupts from the space behind them and a familiar blonde springs into view, looming over them as they seek refuge against the dilapidated water feature. His smirk is wide, amber eyes fixed on their paling faces with glee as they all shriek again and stumble to the floor, covering their heads with their hands, the four boys completely and utterly terrified.

As before, smooth laughter fills the air, the four voices easily distinguishable now, their captors coming to stand before them.

"Well that was a lot of fun." The horribly familiar voice of their leader breaks up the humour. Sounds of agreement come from the other three, snickers of amusement following them.

"Fuck you, asshole!" Teddy exclaims, breathing uneven as he looks up, face etched with fear despite his bold words.

"You're a bit young for our tastes, kid." The taller blonde chuckles, smirking down at him.

When silence follows, the four killers simply laugh again, clearly finding it highly amusing that the boys are in distress.

"What? Cat got your tongues?" The shorter blonde comments, biting his thumb as he struggles to hold back his laughter.

"What do you want with us?" Chris speaks up, sitting up beside Teddy.

The four men look at each other, as if conversing in silence, the leader clearly unsure of whether or not to continue.

"Well, to put it simply, we're gonna need your help." The platinum blonde finally explains.

Shocked and confused the boys sit in silence, staring at their captors dumbfoundedly, eyes wide.

"W-what? You want our h-help?" Gordie asks timidly, stammering under the intense stare of the four murderers.

"No, we don't want it, but we're gonna need it." The tall brunette puts in, scrutinizing the boys critically.

"And you lot have no choice in this matter, before you try to worm your way out of it." The leader interjects, going over to sit in an old wheelchair.

"W-what do you need us for?" Gordie asks, more curious now than afraid.

"Oh, you just need to get a kid to like you. After that, you're gonna lure him over here." The shorter blonde shrugs, patching on the arm of the sofa.

"...huh?" Is all Gordie can manage, completely baffled by the instruction. The others are similarly confused, though Vern is yet to look up properly.

The leader rolls his eyes, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

"You heard what he said. You're gonna go on the Boardwalk and convince this kid to like you. Then you're gonna lure him to us." He clarifies again, inhaling a deep breath of smoke.

"But...why?" Chris chimes in, looking puzzled.

"That's none of your concern." The brunette states, staring down at them.

The boys are silent for a moment.

"Will...will you let us go afterwards?" Gordie asks, Vern looking up at this point.

The leader shrugs, exhaling his smoke into the room.

"Maybe, maybe not. You know too much, but you're too young to be of any other use." Is all he says, eyeing the boys idly.

Their hearts drop in their chests, aware now that they may not get out of there for a long time.

"Ok, what's this kid called?" Chris finally asks, hating himself for doing this.

The four killers smirk, glancing at each other triumphantly.

"Sam." The leader informs them, "Sam Emerson."

[lupin-for-president]

My Top 20 HP Characters In Order (+ Explanations)

Remus Lupin: He’s all around an incredible human being that has went through so many things that would make any normal person bitter, but he is still kind and compassionate regardless. He helps Harry, comforts him, and fights by his side until the very end. And soft boy make my heart go whoo.

Sirius Black: He’s a badass that doesn’t give two shits what you think about him and will do whatever it takes to protect and care for the people he loves. Even after spending twelve years in Azkaban he was still a better man than half of the other characters could even dream of being. And I really just like a man in leather.

Regulus Black: This man would make me risk it all and I am not at all ashamed. He sacrificed his literal life in the attempt to stop —or at least delay— Voldemort, separated himself from his brother just to protect him, and carried the deatheater mark all on his own with absolutely no complaints. He’s a beautiful soul.

Minerva McGonagall: She is obviously just an iconic woman that will tolerate no bullshit from anyone at anytime and always has her students best interests at heart. She is a precious soul and I would die for her. And I really want her to offer me a biscuit.

Draco Malfoy: He did not get the redemption arc he deserved and I am still pissed about it. He fucked up along the way, yes, but even still he did everything in his power to try to do what little good that he could. He literally lied to his family about recognizing Harry and that says a lot by itself.

Cedric Diggory: This man chanced the fucking cup and gave his life just to help Harry’s smartass and if that doesn’t say enough about his character then I don’t know what will. He is by far one of the most selfless people in the entire franchise and did not deserve to die.

Fred Weasley: This man is one hell of a good prankster and an all around joy to be around. He literally lights up any room and always makes sure that his friends are smiling no matter what. Plus I think he’s kinda hot.

Marlene McKinnon: I mean do I even need to explain this? Marlene is a fucking angel and a lesbian icon and I have no choice but to love her. She gave her life to the order and didn’t show a single sign of weakness whatsoever.

Teddy Lupin: This little shit is a fucking fireball, punk rock (he gets it from Sirius), prank pulling, muffin baking, model of a man and no doubt has given Harry his fair share of heart attacks over the years. I would love to jam out to Def Leopard with him while we paint our nails.

Luna Lovegood: She is an angel that fell straight from heaven and that is a hill I will die on. She is the most beautiful person in the HP universe, and I don’t just mean on the outside. She always drops everything for someone in need and is never disrespectful and I love her.

James Potter: Jamie-boy has a heart of gold and did not deserve to be killed so brutally. The amount of love and compassion bottled up inside of this one human being is surreal and I can’t help but marvel at his sacrifices.

Ron Weasley: Let’s get one thing straight, I will not tolerate any hate toward Ron Weasley ever. Sure, he’s had moments where he was a total prick but so has everyone else. He cared so much for Harry and even stole his dad’s car to rescue him from his abusive family. He’s a damn good friend and completely underrated.

Scorpius Malfoy: Scorpius is a polite little godsend and deserves the fucking world. He is the polar opposite of his father except the part where they’re both hopelessly gay for a Potter and honestly just a precious human being. He definitely is the only thing that keeps Albus’ fiery temper in check and I love him for that.

Neville Longbottom: This innocent bean of a man slaughtered Nagini single handedly and if that doesn’t give enough explanation as to why I love him then I don’t know what will. He learned to roll with the punches and was never cruel to anyone.

Lily Evans: She saves her son’s life with just her love and I think that is fucking badass as hell. She made sure to put James Potter in his place and was always a best friend to Remus when he needed it most and fuck I love her.

Blaise Zabini: He’s mostly just on this list because I think he’s god level attractive. I also have a type for pompous dicks and at first encounter Blaise fits into that category pretty well, but I really do love his personality to be honest.

Peter Pettigrew: Yes, Peter is a backstabbing twat, we all know it, but I can’t help but love him. During his school years he definitely snuck food into the Gryffindor Commons just to make sure all the younger kids ate properly and you can’t change my mind.

Harry Potter: Harry is a sassy, sarcastic bitch and I absolutely love him for it. This boy faces death every year and just keeps coming back like it’s nothing more than a slap on the wrist?? Love it. And he’s also a chaotic disaster bi and that’s something him and I can relate on.

Seamus Finnigan: Seamus is really only on this list because when I was younger I used to be like, completely in love with him. Honestly now he’s only within the top twenty because he snogs Dean 24/7 and I’m not ashamed to admit that.

Severus Snape: Okay I fucking loathe Severus as a person, he’s an abuser and a coward, but as a character I love him. He is probably one of my most favorite villains (yes I classify him as a villain don’t come for me) and I refuse to accept his “you have your mother’s eyes” bullshit as a redemption arc. If Draco has to live with his burdens, you do too, Snivellus.

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Tending Wounds 2/18/2021

After Sir Pentious and his local Alastor (@usedhearts) get in a brawl and the non-local Alastor (hi there) breaks it up, Alastor helps Sir Pentious get home (read as: drops him unceremoniously through a portal into his bed back on his airship) and then follows to help Sir Pentious tend to his injuries.

And comes to the realization that it’s too late to escape having Feelings.

And steals his clothes.

Alastor

Alastor appeared in Sir Pentious’s bedroom, inches from where he’d dropped the bloody snake on the bed just a couple of minutes earlier. There was the blood, but where was the snake? “Sir Pentious?!” His voice is layered with multiple others and a Tesla coil-like crackle.

Sir Pentious

Telly jumped at the shout of his name, heart hammering a mile a minute, his hood flaring. Surely the splash he just made would be audible even from out there. "I'm in the bathroom, Alastor.."

Alastor

Alastor rushed to the bathroom so fast he momentarily discorporated, arriving next to the tub still in half shadow. Was there a closed door somewhere in between? If there was he went through it. “Telly!” He knelt down. “Are you alright?”

Sir Pentious

The speed had another jump and flare of the hood happening, but it calmed quickly, a pout forming instead.

"Missssing a bit of meat, sssscratchessss, bitesss....It'll heal but it hurtssss like the dickensss right now...." Arms folded on the rim of the tub, he put his chin on them, tongue sticking out.

Alastor

His brain focuses 33% on the “meat” part and 66% on the “it’ll heal” part before discarding the “meat” part as irrelevant. “Thanks goodness.” He slides his arms under Telly’s and pulls him up into a hug. Sorry, Telly, that’s probably painful. Alastor isn’t thinking too clearly right now.

Sir Pentious

He does wince at the movement, but returned the hug. His purring started up and he nuzzled a bit against Alastor. "Thank you for stopping us. Sometimes with the two of us, we both just see red and go for the throat..."

Alastor

“Of course. I’m just glad the damage wasn’t permanent.” He held a little tighter, he wanted to feel that purr vibrate his rib cage. He’d already soaked the front of his clothing. Eyes shut no thoughts just hugs.

Sir Pentious

The purring was definitely loud enough now, and his tongue flicked-- and smelt the amount of blood on the air. He groaned, but held on. "I need to clean up the wounds....And cover them, disinfect and all that...Ah, shit, I'm probably going to shed because of this, I hate that...."

Alastor

Alastor winced and loosened his grip. “Right, of course.” A hug from the Radio Demon was probably the last thing Telly wanted right now, he hadn’t showered since the ball and since then he’d done everything from slaughter chickens to commit arson.

But he didn’t want to let go. “How can I help?”

Sir Pentious

Wrong, Alastor, he definitely wanted hugs from the Radio Demon, but only the one he was currently hugging. But he pulled back, his tongue flicking again, and gestured back towards the other area of the bathroom.

"There's antiseptic and bandages in there. I'll....get myself out of here and then you can help me locate and clean everything. Wrap up what needs to be wrapped. Etcetera."

Alastor

He let go and leaned back, but didn’t stand yet. “Anything I can patch up, you know,” he gestured with one hand and sent off a wave of bright red sparks, “more expediently?”

Sir Pentious

"Maybe some of the smaller wounds, but I fear the bigger ones may be outside your forte..." As if to prove the point, he raised part of his tail to show a gash down the side-- long but not deep. "Thank you for the offer, though."

Alastor

Alastor’s blood boiled just at the sight of the wound. His own alternate had inflicted that. If he were here, Alastor would rip his throat out.

Good thing he wasn’t here.

Alastor could heal that. If not fully, then at least enough to let it heal faster... *except*, his alternate had made it. Alastor hadn’t been there, he didn’t know what kind of magic his alternate had been slinging around. He didn’t want to risk mixing things that shouldn’t be mixed.

So he just nodded, mouth set in a grim, angry line, and raised a hand to snap his fingers; several shadows appeared, rummaging through the end of the bathroom where Sir Pentious had gestured to find the bandages and antiseptic.

Sir Pentious

That look was definitely one he hadn't seen on Alastor's face before-- he looked downright murderous, and not in the normal way. Telly reached out, his hand cupping Alastor's cheek, turning to get those eyes on him instead.

"It's fine. I gave as good as I got-- In fact, he's probably curled into a corner somewhere sweating out my venom as we speak, I pumped him full of enough to be sure of that. I'll heal. I've had worse, this is nothing." He smiled, stroking his thumb against Alastor's cheek before he pulled back. He took a minute and then started to heft himself out of the tub, the movements far more sluggish than the normally quick serpent Alastor was used to. And once he was on the tile, the full extent of his injuries were revealed. Crescent shaped bites, and a few pieces of missing flesh dotted his torso and tail, and scratches in sets of four, mostly concentrated on places like his back or sides.

Telly groaned and let out an involuntary whimper, laying his head on the tile from the exertion of moving himself.

Alastor

Alastor restrained himself from touching while Telly was heaving himself out of the tub, but as soon as Telly was down on the tile Alastor had his hand. “It’s okay. Relax, I’ve got you.” Disembodied voices buzzed and hissed and murmured in sympathy as Alastor took in the injuries. His expression darkened at the sight of those bites. Alastor didn’t know about his other self’s policy—but for himself, biting—*real* biting, *vicious* biting—was only for meat. Biting was for creatures he’d deemed unworthy to be considered on par with humans. What the hell had Telly done to warrant that?

He rummaged through a portal for a pillow off Telly’s bed and had a shadow toss him a clean towel to wrap around it, and slid an arm gently around Telly’s shoulders to help raise him. “Let me get this under your head, it’ll be more comfortable for you.”

Sir Pentious

His hand squeezed Alastor's when taken, and another groan left him when he lifted him. He settled onto the towel wrapped pillow and huffed, his arms wrapped around it. "They probably look worse than they feel-- This doesn't even compare to the last time me and Al-- him got into it. There were explosions that time, and the hotel lobby was destroyed."

He let out a weak chuckle and glanced up at Alastor. "How are you, though, we haven't gotten to really talk since the ball. I hope your hangover wasn't too bad, I know we drank a lot. What have you been up to?"

Alastor

Alastor almost asked about “last time”—until he realized that was probably the same as *his* last time, wasn’t it?

“Oh, you know, having fun, raising hell. Burned down a plantation with your ray gun.” His shadows dropped the supplies they’d collected, and Alastor started rummaging through them. “Are you going to need stitches?”

Sir Pentious

"Maybe on the long gash. Otherwise, no, I don't think so." His head turned to look at Alastor, still cushioned on the pillow. "So how did it perform? Up to snuff?"

Alastor

“Well, I’m pleased to say there’s no longer a plantation, so!” He summons up a black needle and a long length of blood red thread; and then, after a moment of thought, switches it out for a gold thread, *much* nicer. “I don’t usually use antiseptic, do you tend to put that on before or after the stitches? I think before, but then you poke in a bunch of new holes...” (Run, Telly.)

Sir Pentious

"Before, Alastor. And after. Clean it, and then stitch it, and then clean it again. Then put gauze on it and use the surgical tape to hold it in place." It was clear that he'd done this on his own more times that he'd care to discuss. "I'll heal faster than say, a human would, so it should only be a day or so before the stitches need to come out anyway."

Alastor

“Oh! So just like using alcohol.” (*Run*, Telly.) Alastor took off his coat—it was soaked anyway—and handed it to Telly. “Here. If you need to bite something.” Then he started cleaning off the worst wound, with a lot more care and skill than his terrifying lead-up questions might suggest.

Sir Pentious

He did need something to bite, but he wouldn't be using the coat for that. Nope, the coat is now hostage in his arms, and he's hugging it like its the most precious teddy bear in the world. Instead it's the pillow that gets his bite, and muffles his short screech-- how that STINGS. He swore, the cleaning was worse than the injury. He panted after, whining into the pillow. Somehow, he'd kept himself still-- one would guess, a lot of practice.

Alastor

“Shhh shh, you’ll be fine.” He paused to pat Telly’s elbow, then continued. “I’m sorry about this. I’d pull out some magic painkillers, but I don’t know what your me was using, the mix might make things worse. I can get you some normal ones if you don’t mind the wait for them to kick in.”

Sir Pentious

His dislodge his mouth from the pillow and panted a little more. "I'll be fine. Been in more pain than thissss before. Jusssst sssstingsss like a bitch." His tail twitched a bit.

"Painkillers can come once I'm all stitched and bandaged up. Most are blood thinners and I probably shouldn't lose any more than I have."

Alastor

“Okay. I’ll try to be quick.” There, antiseptic applied on everything Alastor could reach without Telly rolling over. “In the meantime, pretend to be a masochist and I’ll pretend to be a sadist, how’s that sound?” Alastor that sounds terrible.

“It should be easy for me, at any rate! Here, let me tell you something my mother said once.” As he seizes the needle and thread—which have been patiently floating in midair beside Alastor until now—and gets ready to start sewing, he actually starts singing:

“*When I was younger, just a bad little kid, my mama noticed funny things I did—like shoot a puppy in its little head—that's when my mama said...*” He started sewing, moving fast—surprise, the song is a distraction technique. “*She said ‘my boy—I think some day—you’ll find a way—to make your natural tendencies pay!’*” He placed a hand over his chest as the needle kept on sewing by itself. “*You'll be a suuurgeooon! You have a talent for causing things pain! Son, be a surgeon—people will pay you to be inhumane!*”

https://youtu.be/YoWom0CCRKM

Sir Pentious

He's trying not to laugh at the song-- oh Little Shop, he loved that one! He failed step one and giggled. "Isn't it supposed to be dentist?" He asked, turning his head just a tad to look at Alastor.

"I don't think surgeons are supposed to cause pain, unless the anesthesia wears off. At least not nowadays." He's hardly feeling the pain of the needle now, thinking instead about anesthesia in medicine. "I hear it's also a lot safer nowaday than it was in, say, your time. But people still die because of it. Imagine that's how you die-- go in for some routine work, and then just suddenly you're falling and splat right into Hell. Must be a hell of an experience." He snickered at his own joke.

Alastor

He got a laugh! Just a small one, but it was a laugh. “Sure, and I’ll sing ‘dentist’ if you ever need me to pull out your teeth.”

Alastor laughed. “Oh—just imagine it! You go under to, I don’t know, get your appendix out—you wake up and, and some big red man with tusks out to here and horns to match is looking down at you—and you go, ‘Doctor’—*ha haaa*—‘doctor, was the procedure a success?’ And—“ Alastor snorted, he was laughing too hard at his own joke, “—and he looks down at you and says, ‘Well, does it still hurt?’”

And it was right there—having rushed in a haze of red fury to save Telly the moment he was threatened, now in the middle of stitching him up, fingers trembling from fear and fatigue, but doing his best to distract them both with stupid songs and cracking up over morbid jokes—that Alastor realized he wasn’t going to get out of this. There was no way he could make a clean break from Telly and escape with his heart intact. It was too late for him.

He could decide what he was going to do about it later. For now, all he cared about was getting Telly back into one piece.

“There, stitches done!” He dismissed the needle and remaining thread and pulled out the antiseptic again. Time for more singing to cancel out the stinging. “*’Your temperament's wrong for the priesthood, and teaching would suit you still less. Son, be a surgeon—you'll be a success!’*”

Sir Pentious

He giggled, more at Alastor laughing at his own joke than at the joke itself. He looked over his shoulder, smiling at him, and his chest filled with that familiar warm feeling. He should tell him. Hel said he should tell him, but it was so hard. He didn't want to lose him now that he had him, and he wasn't sure if confessing his feelings would send Alastor running.

But that was a problem for later. Just....focus on your injuries, Pentell.

Telly had been attempting to sing along to the _you'll be a success!_ when the antiseptic sting hit him and he yelped. He quickly bit down on the pillow again, muffling any other sounds, and his face scrunched. He slowly released it as the shock ebbed away, and he took a breath.

"That wasn't so bad," He said, voice wavering a bit. "Now we just need to get them covered."

Sir Pentious

“I’ve got that! Bandaging is easy, don’t you worry.” He again squeezed Telly’s elbow and started gauzing and taping the wound. He actually *was* pretty good at it. “This is basic training. Piece of cake.” And then on to the smaller wounds, already cleaned off, now just in need of gauze.

Sir Pentious

He started to purr again at the elbow squeeze, and settled down. After the spikes of pain from antiseptic, this was a cake-walk.

"I don't think the part that's missing a chunk will be, ah...coverable, until it's dealt with a little. Can you see if he used any magic? If he did, maybe you can see what it was?"

Alastor

“Well then why didn’t I do that at the start and heal all these with magic,” he muttered. Could have saved himself a lot of unnecessary antisepticing and stitching. “I can do a quick half-baked preliminary check. It probably won’t catch everything. *And* I’ll have to lick it. Or, I slap some cling wrap on it to keep it moist and gauze over the cling wrap and we wish it good luck.”

Sir Pentious

Lick it. That's what sticks in his head. Oh. "I'd rather not leave it to chance-- if I didn't have you here, I would have to go find someone to bargain with for that one. I don't want to get an infection..."

He let out a noise halfway between a sigh and a _different_ embarrassed noise. "Do what you must. I give you my full permission."

Alastor

He sighed. “Well, if it’s between me and some other creep who’s going to *charge* you for it...” He leaned closer. “I apologize for this.” And he’d try not to enjoy it.

As it turned out, he *didn’t* enjoy it. Antiseptic taste. He scrunched up his nose and turned away. “*Pffleh.*”

Sir Pentious

Oh, that felt _odd._ Being licked on a missing chunk of himself was probably the strangest thing he'd ever felt before. He shivered.

"Did you get what you needed from that?"

Alastor

Face scrunch! But Alastor concentrated for a moment, tongue pressed hard to the roof of his mouth, before he nodded. “Mgh. I *think* it’s clear. I’ve got things I can pull out that wouldn’t be that easy to pick up, but if we’re trying to avoid a long, expensive test...” He sighed. “Okay. I take it you don’t want me expending the energy to heal the whole thing. I can at least give it a kick start and burn out anything that got in there that shouldn’t have. Like, say, radio host drool. After *that,* it’s cling wrap.”

Sir Pentious

Telly nodded. "Thank you, Alastor." He settled back down more, and moved Alastor's coat up closer to the pillow to lay his cheek against it. It wasn't weird, he just liked the texture. It wasn't that it was _Alastor's_ specifically or anything.

"Will it hurt?"

Alastor

“Sure, but I can take it!” He said it so cheerfully. He rolled up one sleeve, dug into the flashiest part of his forearm with one claw, and used the blood to trace a simple sigil around Telly’s torn flesh. And then he pressed his hand to Telly’s scales next to the wound and the blood started to glow.

On Telly’s end, there would just be a strange tingling as the flesh started to regrow itself. On Alastor’s end, bite marks appearing and growing in his arm, around the point where he’d pierced his own skin. He didn’t so much as flinch as he drained away as much of the injury as he could; then finally, with a single hiss of pain, let go and grabbed the gauze. “There. That should give you a head start.” He quickly wrapped his own arm before tending to Telly’s wound.

Sir Pentious

"What does that--" He was about to ask when the process begun and he stilled. Ooh, yes, that did feel odd. He shivered again and waited until the end-- and that hiss of pain. He didn't move, not with Alastor still tending him, but his face creased with worry and he looked over his shoulder the first chance he got.

"Alastor, what happened? It hurt _you_?" The worry definitely colored his tone, and he fought the urge to sit up and hug him. He didn't want that. He didn't want Alastor hurting himself to heal him. His frown deepened and he clutched the coat a little tighter. "Oh, Alastor, I'm sorry..."

Alastor

“Don’t you worry!” Pain, what pain? There’s none in Alastor’s voice. “Just the fast way to get things done, that’s all. Many hands make light work—same applies to healing injuries.” Does it, Alastor? Does it? He quickly rolled his sleeve down to conceal the new injury. “Was that the only one with a chunk out of it that big?”

Sir Pentious

"Yes, I believe so. At least I don't think I feel any others." He started to sit up slowly, wincing as he went. He took Alastor's coat with him, holding it against his chest with one hand. Very carefully, he turned and got into a sitting position, hand braced against the ground to keep him upright. Once his head stopped swimming, he focused on Alastor.

"Come here," He said, setting the coat in his lap and holding out his hand for him.

Alastor

Alastor quickly moved in to support Telly and help him sit upright. “*Careful,* now.” He gave Telly his hand, but his focus was on Telly’s body, scanning him for any further injuries that had previously been covered.

Sir Pentious

There were only a couple more scratches, nothing serious that was revealed when he sat up. He squeezed Alastor's hand and then released it to slide around his waist instead, his chin settling on his shoulder. Telly purred a bit.

"Will you help me to bed? I'm tired and would like to get under a heated blanket."

Alastor

“Of course.” Alastor got to his feet, carefully supporting Telly the whole way. Don’t mind his arms trembling, it’s probably fine. Just used a lot of magic, that’s all.

Sir Pentious

He could feel that trembling, but he was trembling too. They made it, but slowly, to the bedroom, and Telly crawled onto the bed.

"I stocked up on more pantry things and some spices, and there should be more jerky in there." Was he informing Alastor for himself or for Alastor? Who knows, the snake is getting snuggly, with the jacket still held tight.

Alastor

Alastor sat heavily on the edge of the bed. “Hungry? What do you want me to bring?”

Sir Pentious

"The jerky is a nice big bag...I think we could split it. We probably both need it." He turned his head to look at Alastor again, hand reaching over to rub his back a little and then give his shoulder a squeeze.

"Bring it out here and we can just....chill out." He chuckled.

Alastor

Oh, can’t he stay here and get back rubs a little longer?

No, he can’t, can he? “You’ve got it!” To the kitchen and back as fast as possible. He didn’t bother to search the rest of Telly’s cabinets this time, all he wanted was the promised jerky.

Sir Pentious

Telly hummed tunelessly as he watched Alastor go, waiting for him to come back with he jerky. He held the coat to his chest again and pulled more of his tail up on the bed.

Alastor

“Tada!” He dropped the bag onto the bed next to Telly—and then dropped next to the bed, plopping down to lean back against it and shut his eyes.

Sir Pentious

Telly chuckled, and opened the bag, taking out some jerky to start chewing on. Oh that tasted really good. He pushed to bag towards Alastor. "Thank you again for all your help, Alastor." He laid his face down against the pillows, and then moved Alastor's jacket up to lay under his head. Texture nice make cobra go prrrr.

Alastor

He took several pieces himself. “You want to keep that tonight?” He nodded at the coat.  “I should go soon, but I don’t mind leaving it for you.”

Sir Pentious

He thought for a moment and then hummed, nodding. "Yes. It's....comforting. The texture. It feels nice." _And it's yours._ For the zillionth time since he met Alastor, he's glad he can't blush. "I'm sad you have to go, but I understand." He took Alastor's hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, before burrowing into the jacket and bed more. "Take as much of the jerky as you want, but leave me some for when I wake up. I'm going to sleep now."

Alastor

Nice? That old threadbare thing? At least it was soft, Alastor supposed.

He froze when Sir Pentious took his hand and kissed it. Telly was half asleep, it didn’t necessarily mean anything. It... it might indicate *sentiment,* but it couldn’t indicate *intention.* “All right. Get some rest.”

He took the jerky and nibbled at it until he had enough energy to get safely home, and until he was sure that Telly was sound asleep. Then he stood, set the jerky on the nightstand, looked down on Telly half asleep; hesitated a moment; and then slowly, quietly bent low over his face—

—and whispered softly and tenderly to him—

—“I’m stealing one of your jackets and you’re never getting it back.”

He rummaged around in the dark until he found the ripped and bloody jacket from the fight—surely Telly won’t want this, right?—and teleported home with it.

Sir Pentious

When Alastor leaned close, Telly half expected him to kiss him, and his heart gave a little flutter-- only for him to say that instead. He laughed, softly, and gave a hum of agreement.

"Yes, that's fine, enjoy," He said, as he faded from consciousness. The snake was Asleep.

Alastor

Oh shit Telly was awake.

... Too late to fix it now. The jacket was Alastor’s.

[ksuew]

The Rookie 2x11 Day of Death

Here is a crazy, sleep-deprived stream of conscious recap of the episode with a few predictions.

Opening scene, Lucy regains consciousness on a table, Caleb is giving her a DOD tatoo. I was so hoping this wouldn’t happen, but it does give the opportunity for a good healing story line and an awesome cover tatoo.

Next, Jackson goes to bring Lucy coffee and she isn’t home.

Lopez and Wesley are talking after she’s found him nearly dead because he’s mixed booze and pills.

There is a news brief from Rosalind

“5 years ago Detective nick armstrong looked into my eyes and Fulfilled his darkest fantasy and arrested me for Playing at slaughter” weird wording. I think Armstrong must have slept with Rosalind...

Nolan and Jackson are discussing the missing Lucy. Thankfully, Harper immediately sounds the alarm. When asked if Lucy just went home with the guy, Nolan says, “Lucy doesn’t do one night stands”. I could tell what Jackson said.

Next we see Lucy taped to a chair.

She’s trying to get into Caleb’s head, but it isn’t really getting her free yet.

Harper and Nolan visit his last victim but get no usable info other than timeline. It would be nice if she and Lucy meet up at some point. They could be a good support for one another.

They talk to Grace about How long it would take to suffocate in a barrel.

Surveillance footage

As soon as they say she’s been taken they cut to Tim. He immediately calls Lopez. She’s on her way. Love that friendship.

Harper knows Lucy is a fighter

Lucy proves that when she gets free, hits Caleb and runs for it. Wish She had beaten him until she saw brain matter, but I get the instinct to run.

I really hated watching Caleb kick her. That was hard to watch.

Armstrong’s pissed, I get it. I think it was right to send Nolan to talk to Rosalind (and he is the star of the show, so he has to play a big part).

Poor Tim, he talks with Lopez. He blames himself for pushing Lucy to go out . He was nearly in tears. “She hesitated and I pushed her right at him.”

Nolan visits Rosalind. I still don’t trust the prison guy, Hernandez, i think he’s in on things. May come up in later episodes. Nolan doesn’t get much, but tries the contraband angle.

Love that Wesley gets to help by finding the contraband smuggler.

Now it’s Lucy being marched to the burial site. He makes her climb into the barrel, has it wired to record. The ring!! Lucy you beautiful genius! She throws her ring onto the ground as she climbs into the barrel. I loved her parting quote, “you’re gonna be dead long before i am”. Gotta say, I’d have ripped those camera wires apart out of spite. No way I would have let him have the satisfaction of watching me die.

The next scene was one of my favorites. Tim and Jackson pull over the smuggler. Tim goes all the fuck out from second one. Jackson looks kinda scared. One of my favorite linesof the whole episode: “I am responsible for a life that is in jeopardy and I will do whatever I have to to save her, do you understand?” The guy doesn’t want to give the info, Tim’s reply, “Because if you don’t I will pull you inside out”. Swoon

Tim takes down the guy he thinks is Caleb and demands “Where’s Lucy?” But it’s not Caleb. Poor guy’s disabled and gets tackled because Caleb stole his identity. So back to Nolan and Rosalind. He really doesn’t get anywhere, honestly, other than finding out she’s after Armstrong

Armstrong is a dummy and lets Caleb take him. Caleb was never gonna help or let her go. Sweet that he would sacrifice his life for hers. Lots of guilt there.

Lopez and sergeant grey find the photo of Lucy and presumably her phone. BUT WE DON’T GET TO SEE HER TIM LOCK SCREEN which had me seriously pouting.

Lucy’s in the barrel. This is so hard to watch. Cut to Tim looking devastated because he thinks they’re out of options but It’s Jackson and Tim who realize credit card statements could lead to Caleb. Then Wesley for the win, figuring out that Caleb will probably take Lucy to a place connected to Rosalind.

So Caleb and Armstrong get to the farmhouse. Caleb is jealous of Armstrong, “there’s so much you don’t know about her. I know everything “. He also told Lucy earlier that he didn’t understand Rosalind’s obsession with Armstrong. Again, I’m Pretty sure they had an affair before he realized she was the killer.

Okay, finally Tim and Lopez use the data Wesley has gathered and find the address.

Now the scene of Lucy singing dream a little dream of me. All we hear is her as everyone rushes to find her. We see Nolan and Harper get re-routed toward the farmhouse and Tim, Jackson, Lopez, and Sergeant Grey getting in a helicopter, but all we hear is her singing until her voice trails off and she presumably passes out from lack of oxygen. I can no longer sit at this point.

Nolan and Harper get there first and Harper shoots Caleb. They try to keep him alive even calling Grace to help, but he was never going to tell them anything anyway. He dies.

Loads of people finally start to show up. Nolan shows Lopez the live stream of Lucy in the barrel. Tim doesn’t really look. Honestly he looks so upset and worried that he might throw up. They decide to just start searching and hope for the best.

Tim pulls it together and starts to search with Jackson, but tells Jackson to go left so they can cover more ground.

Everybody is searching. At this point I’m nearly screaming at the TV, “Come on Tim!!”. (And I’m pacing and getting really close to the tv) My dog gets so spooked she starts barking 😂. I NEED for Tim to be the one to find her. The scene keeps cutting to all the people looking for her...

And then, it all comes together..

He sees the ring catching the sun. Lucy has saved herself that badass queen. He starts digging with his bare hands and calling for help “I’ve got her!”. I am literally dying. PS. Lucy doesn’t wear that ring to work, so he’s noticed it from other occasions. I would so love if that ring comes into play in the future...

So, he’s digging, everyone joins in with hands and shovels.

Tim is the one to open the barrel.

Tim is the first one to touch her and asks for help getting her out (I think this is the first time we’ve ever seen him touch her)

Tim is the one to check if she’s breathing

Tim is the one to give her mouth to mouth and start compressions

Thankfully they don’t leave us in suspense for too long before she starts to breathe again. As soon as she realizes she is out of the barrel and alive, she starts to sob

Tim is the one to gather her in his arms and rock her and tell her it’s okay.

God, I was a mess! They could have let that scene go on for just a touch longer, but I won’t complain. It was so touching. I love how everyone deferred to Tim. No one tried to take over or move in. They all knew it needed to be him.

Cut to the hospital. Lucy is waking up and Tim is by her side reading a ridiculous teen magazine. Tim looks a little embarrassed/unsure (will she want me here? Is she mad at me?). Lucy starts with some playful banter and Tim makes her laugh right away. He looks a little unsure again. Lucy asks him if he’s been there all night. Embarrassed puppy denies it 3 times, which of course tells us he has, but doesn’t want her to know. Her little “um hm” tells me she knows he’s lying.

Grace comes in, says Lucy will be in the hospital for one more day. Mentions that Rachel just came by and will be back later 🙄🙄. Sorry, but can we be done with Rachel now?

Lucy looks to Tim and asks, “How did you find me?”. Just when I think he’ll get to mention the ring, Nolan comes in to claim credit and says it was his policing skills. (I’ll give it to you, Nathan, this show wouldn’t exist without you, so we gotta stroke your ego a bit 😂)

He gives her a big teddy bear, then Jackson comes in with flowers. It’s very cute and sweet. Lucy says the bear will stay in her bed because she’s never going on another date again. Grace tries to object but all 3 guys are fine with that scenario. As am I. The only dates she needs to go on are with Tim after she’s no longer a rookie for at least 6 months. Then he can evict the pink bear.

Tim totally sets up his own gift to her by asking Lucy if she’s hungry. She says yes, and as she’s about to say what she’d really like to eat, he’s pulling out a bag with her favorite veggie burger, extra pickles and French fries (as a romantic song plays in the background. I can’t find it yet, but the lyrics were “I’ll come and find you, come rain, come shine) Who won the gift name now, suckers? Better than a bear or flowers any day 😉.

She says, “you know me so well”, he smirks, goes full heart eyes, and says, “Too well”.

And that’s some endgame set-up awesomeness right there!

I would have been fine if the episode had ended there, but there was a bit more.

Wesley has gotten some perspective because of Lucy’s ordeal and is ready to go back to work. I think there are more setbacks to come for him, but it is a good first step.

Cut to Armstrong and Sergeant Grey. He invites Armstrong to his house to watch a game. He hopes Armstrong can cast out his demons and move on... foreshadowing!

Nolan goes back to speak with Rosalind to tell her she (and Caleb) failed and now all she has is her cell. She tries to barter a secret about Armstrong. I’m sure that will come back to haunt us. Like I said before, I’m pretty sure Armstrong slept with her at some point, but there is something else. Season finale kinda something else.

Overall, this was such an excellent episode of television. It literally had me out of my seat on several occasions. I feel like Tim knows he’s got serious feelings for Lucy but will try his hardest to suppress them because she is his rookie, and a fellow cop, and he feels like her abduction was his fault. I think that will become a bigger and bigger issue as the rest of this season progresses.

I think (and hope) that Lucy working with Harper will be a one-episode thing, but they will probably pull pretty far back on The Lucy and Tim relationship for a few episodes. The scenario was very similar to A Bones episode from season 2. Brennan was buried alive, Booth moved heaven and earth to find her, she did something brilliant that caught his eye when it seemed like finding her would be impossible. He dug her out and held her, but it was still a good 4 more seasons or more before they got together. I hope we won’t have to wait THAT long, but I don’t think they’ll be together by the end of this season. I do think that this episode is signaling that the show runners are definitely going to put Tim and Lucy together eventually, which makes me very happy.

For now, I just hope they’re back as partners in the same shop soon. I need to see them together because they’re the best part of the whole show. I want them to allow Lucy to process her trauma. I want a conversation between Lucy and Tim about it not being his fault. I would hope Tim would end things with Rachel. I want the ring to come back into play at some point. First because i want Lucy to know that what she did was a big part of what saved her, and I want a pining Tim to hang onto it like a talisman.

[munsonsduchess]

So. I re watched The Magnificent Seven again because I’m at home self isolating until my housemates covid test comes back in a couple days so I made some notes. Presented below as I watched the film … again

Teddy looks like he wants to say something to encourage Matthew not to speak but like he just can’t find the courage to speak up

Everyone turning to stare at Sam as he rides through the town. Like they aren’t used to seeing a man of colour make something of himself.

The bartender who tells Sam they don’t serve ‘that kind’ as a direct insulation that they don’t serve Sam’s kind. Which could have just been because Sam is a lawman and the barman is an outlaw but could also be more than that

Faraday isn’t as stupid as he looks. He knows exactly who Dan is and what Sam’s purpose was. He could tell something was happening and was ready in seconds with a gun drawn to help Sam.

He sticks around after everyone runs out because he knows Sam’s occupation and seems to want to know more.

Emma has obviously been searching for someone who could help for a long time. Teddy stopping her from talking to Sam and her acceptance seems to imply that they’ve spoken to people before but that no one has taken them seriously. Maybe because Emma is a woman

Emma is clearly ready to offer up anything she can to find ‘righteousness’. It also seems like she’s more than ready for a fight.

Sam had decided upon hearing Bouge’s name that he would take the job and then when Emma shared her convictions he knew he could pass off his intentions as unselfish if anyone asked

Faraday cheats at cards and is scared of the dark confirmed. He’s also clever enough to use his wits to get out of a situation when he’s seemingly at the mercy of two other men

Faraday has issues around killing people. He clearly shows remorse for his actions. He doesn’t seem to like violence but he’ll use it to get what he wants if he needs to

Does Faraday know who Joan of Arc is?

He’s also apparently willing to throw his life away for strangers

Emma is not here for your shit

Teddy is a good boy and he’s here to help his friend on her vengeance quest as all good friends should

Vasquez wants Sam to know that he’s not the type of man who kills in cold blood. He uses Emma as leverage because a white woman’s death will look worse for Sam

Sam offers to tear up the warrant to get Vas on his side but I have the feeling he would have done it anyway

Vas taking a minute to decide and figuring if he works with Sam there’s a possibility of him going free and not having to run anymore

GOODY! That hip swagger

“That’s ok son you just pay me double” Goody is a respected member of the community and his reputation proceeds him so there is a level of fear there at offending him or anyone associated with him

Faraday is clearly interested to see how people react to or behave around Goody. To see how the man stacks up to the story

Goody very interested in who Faraday and Teddy are and what they have to say. Putting them off their game by speaking in the middle of the saloon while he’s getting a shave

“I keep him employed and he keeps me on the level” clearly Billy has been helping Goody with his demons far beyond what we see later

Goody and Sam being friends warms my heart

That good old southern breeding. Goody can’t resist being charming

“Ain’t no such thing as a Texican” that’s one hell of a loaded statement right there

“This is not going to end well” couldn’t have said it better myself Goody

The Famous Pigeon Brothers who weren’t famous for very long

“I believe that bear was wearing peoples clothes” Joshua the man was snuck up on in the dead of night, had a boulder smashed over his head and has been tracking the culprits for two days. I don’t think you’d be in your right mind either

“Don’t call the alligator big mouth till you cross the river” Goody just has all the best advice

IT’S MY BOY!

There’s obviously something Faraday is trying to drown in all that whiskey and Teddy knows it which is obviously why he tells Faraday to keep it

Emma doesn’t trust Farday at all

Goody knows what’s up although he’s not one to talk about the battle behind him

MY SON! HE’S SO PRETTY I WANT TO CRY

Sam giving Vas the gun so he’s less threatening to Red. Same way he left his gun outside when they went after Vas

I love that Martin cut his hair off to be historically accurate but damn what I wouldn’t have given for a long haired Red in this movie

Peace offering or trolling? Both? Both.

“Yeah ok I trust you now”

Can I also say I love how Martin learnt to ride bareback for the historical accuracy? Like historical accuracy is my jam. Now I just wonder how accurate the costumes are

“Oh good it’s a black man and an Asian man quickly call your children inside for who knows what havoc they might bring”

I do love how the racism is never as overt as someone using a slur but it’s always there just under the surface

“Manservant? Really?”

Did they practice how they were going to come into town and look imposing or do they all just instinctively know how to pose? I know Goody does anyway

I cannot keep a straight face when Farday calls himself the worlds greatest lover

Sam has no time for these Blackstone men and I am here for it

Sam’s horse is just called Horse

Goody having PTSD flashbacks before the shooting even starts since he’s clearly triggered by just the situation

A western staple where the bad guys always miss and the good guys never do

At times like this Mal Reynolds comes to me speaking words of wisdom “shoot the man not the horse, a dead horse is cover, a live horse is a whole lot of panic”

Faraday and Vas being very gay and poor confused Red like “tie him up what?”

“Lincoln like the president” and goody just “oh damn”

Someone please give Emma a better shirt. She’s gonna spill out of that one

“Seems I was the only one with balls enough to do so” damn right you were

Emma just breaking down when there’s no one around to see her use she has to be strong

“Fame is a sarcophagus” “what’s a syllable?”

TABLE MANNERS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TABLE MANNERS

Goodbye to the working girls the town isn’t the same without them

Emma has a better shirt! She still looks like she’s gonna spill out though

Shooting lessons with Goody and Faraday

“The way of northern aggression”

Billy’s class just running away because he’s way too good

“Make me some eggs”

“GET SOME GRAVEL IN YOUR CRAW!”

Faraday trying to goad Goody into proving himself. Sam’s wariness and Goody turning around and showing Faraday just why he got the title he did despite the reasons why he doesn’t pick up a rifle anymore

Do any of them know what Jack is talking about?

“So far so good”

We’re to assume it’s Goody picking off Bouge’s men at the mine since he’s the only one who could make those sorts of shots which means Sam has talked him into doing it even though he’s seen what happened to Goody during the initial fight

“I’ve always wanted to blow something up”

The look on the faces of the people who live in town as the miners come through. They’ve always lived separately from these men and now they’re forced to look at their faces and see just how they’ve all been living

Sam putting the dynamite in the hotel like it’s no big deal

Poor Peter Skarsgard. He’s the bad guy or the poor Dad in a horror movie while his dad is spooning Colin Firth on a boat in Greece

“I worked for my money. I wasn’t given a million dollar loan. I’m a good guy”

Emma can shoot just fine. She does not need you Faraday

“I had a father thank you” “I didn’t” proceeds to show off as if to prove himself

“They say the nightmares never go away” no they really don’t ask Goody

“Avenge me!” Yeah faraday it’s not that hard

“I am to fight” “it comes to that and we’re all dead” excuse you Sam but Emma is the one who brought you here and she’s the one who’s been raring for the fight since the beginning but sure put her with the women and children

I’m also so mad they cut out of the scene of Vas and the school teachers kid talking

“I have three Maria’s!”

I’m afraid of owls too goody you aren’t alone

TABLE MANNERS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

How long had Bouge been in Rose Creek and making the residents live in fear? That it had to be the seven who were able to show them how to live their life again

Those loose white shirts though 👌🏼

Squinting into the sun as the realisation dawns

Sam knows Goody better than Goody knows himself and Goody knows Sam better than Sam knows himself

Sam doing his best to help his friend with his PTSD but Goody just can’t

“It looks like he’s started to drink” that’s because Goody was his friend his best friend and there are untold emotions and god knows what else between them and now that man had left but not just that but left him behind is torturous

“I’m hungry” You little shit!” Red Harvest. Professional Troll

Sam seeking refuge in what’s left of the church. Feeling the proverbial noose tightening as he clutches at his neck

Emma reminding us what this whole endeavour is for. How it all started. How it’s going to end

Bouge sitting back because he’s sure his hired men will be enough. He’s never faced opposition before so he’s confident he still won’t. Or at least that his money will solve all his problems

Also if Red only wears his war paint for special occasions and if he was tracking the group prior to joining them does that mean he put his war paint on specifically to talk to Sam

Another man in Goody’s spot in the bell tower because presumably he’s the second best shot with a rifle or the only other person they could trust up there

A+ use of Fox holes though

Jack reciting his prayers as he goes absolutely feral

Faraday’s happy little smile when he finally gets to blow something up

Jack trying to help as many men as he can, men who are fathers, husbands, good honest men

Bouge who doesn’t seem to care one ounce that the people in the village are being slaughtered and bringing the battling gun out just for extra overkill

“You ok güero?” “So far so good”

“We still have men there sir” proof that Bouge does not care one single ounce for human life that isn’t his own

That rebel yell

“The devils breath” I can only imagine how a Gatling gun got that name especially from a war vet who’s likely seen countless friends allies and enemies alike be blown down by this devil

Faraday being concerned for the children even though he’s injured himself

Jack protecting Teddy at the cost of his own life. Defiant of Denali to the end But accepting his death with a sigh believing in his faith that he’ll be rewarded in heaven and reunited with his family

“I knew you’d be back” Billy has so much faith in Goodnight and I’m gonna cry

Emma with an empty gun putting herself in front of an injured man between the injured man and Denali

Denali ain’t shit!

“You’re a disgrace”

“My daddy used to say a lot of things” these two I cannot cope

“I might need a new vest” Faraday you reckless idiot

“Hit the steeple”

“I got him!” “Oh Goody” I’m not crying you’re crying

I know there’s a lot of talk about Chris Pratt being the worst Chris but he was so good in this movie I swear. Which yeah I know doesn’t change anything but when you see him playing Faraday in that last scene where it’s all down to him. I can’t

“I’ve always been lucky with one eyed jacks”

Nope definitely not crying. Not me

Bouge’s complete disregard for human life as he surveys the town

Bouge V Sam

“If god didn’t want them sheered he wouldn’t have made them sheep” says a man who feels no remorse at all for the blood on his hands

This time it’s Bouge who’s going to feel the noose tighten and I am here for the cinematic drama of it all

God won’t save you now Bouge. Run into the church you like. It’s not going to help

“Ask for forgiveness” The reveal of the rope mark. What Sam has been doing in Rose Creek this whole time. Why he took the job at the mention of Bouge’s name

[misssophiachase]

Free Fall

Klaroline AU Week - Day 7 - Trope x Trope - Wolf Mates x Rockstars/Musicians

From opposing packs, Klaus and Caroline had a connection from an early age. However, their parents forced them apart five years earlier through lies and deceit, and now they’re coming face-to-face after all these years. (Points of view will alternate.) 

Fox and Hound Bar, Memphis, TN - 

Klaus

“Do you think this is a good idea right now?” Lucien asked, keeping his voice low.

“We need a backing singer, Lucien,” he growled, finishing off the last of his beer and placing it back on the bar.

“You know what I mean,” he muttered. “Given current tensions between our packs, putting the call out might attract our enemies.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“I know you love a good fight, Mikaelson, but you’re Alpha now. That risky logic could get, not only you, but the whole pack slaughtered.”

“Were you always this much of a wet blanket when we were younger or has it just been too long, Luc?” Klaus patted his friend on the back affectionately. 

He and Lucien were raised together in the Appalachians and roamed together as pups. Theirs was the most formidable pack in North-Eastern America during that time. Although they weren’t without their enemies, the Forbes Pack being their biggest rivals. 

“What’s really going on here, mate? You return from London after five years away and insist on getting the band back together, even though you should have far more pressing things on your schedule.”

“You know music has always relaxed me,” he murmured, thinking back to when she’d serenade him as they lay in fields of wildflowers bathed in moonlight. “It’s also the perfect way to signal my return to the States.”

“Trust me, I think everyone already knows you’re back.” Klaus momentarily wondered whether she knew by now and if she was on her way as he’d predicted when he advertised for a singer.

“I think getting back on the road will be good, Lucien, not just for my rusty singing pipes and guitar skills but so we can do a little reconnaissance.”

“You know every square inch of these territories, we’ve roamed them together for years. What more information could you possibly need?” 

“You forget I haven’t been here for five years, things can change. Plus it is the perfect cover story.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with...”

“Don’t say it,” he hissed, knowing that if he uttered her name Klaus would struggle to regain his composure. “This is about staying ahead of the enemy. We’ve allowed the pack’s power to diminish for too long.”

“You’ve changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“You couldn’t care less about rivalries and power back then, it’s why you escaped to England in the first place. Well, that and because of...”

“What did I tell you about mentioning that?” He emitted a low growl and Lucien could tell he’d overstepped the boundaries.

“Okay, so then what happened in London, Klaus?” A lot, he thought, but there was no way he was willing to divulge that just yet, he didn’t want to endanger his friend unless it was absolutely necessary. 

“I had a much-needed rest from my domineering father,” he muttered, knowing that part at least was true. Mikael Mikaelson had recently been taken ill which is why Klaus had begrudgingly returned to take over as Alpha.

He was actually surprised he was chosen given their problematic relationship. Although given Elijah had left the pack to live a ‘normal’ life in New York City, as he liked to call it, and Kol was considered far too immature it wasn’t altogether out of the realms of possibility in hindsight. 

“He won’t like this.”

“I couldn’t give a damn, Lucien,” he growled. “He’s not in charge right now, he gave up that right when he named me Alpha of this pack. I have no desire to run things like he did. The fear and intimidation only gets you so far and the fact Bill Forbes has taken back much of the land we claimed shows his methods aren’t working.”

“Even so, how do you expect to gain their trust?”

“I have my ways,” he murmured mysteriously. “What Mikael has never understood is that It isn’t always about the attack. Knowing your enemies is the most important strategy in defeating them.”   

“But...”

“Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions?” He chuckled. “Now, how about we get these auditions underway?”

“Last time I checked, I was manager of this band, or did you decide to dump me during your London sojourn?”

“Sister, always a pleasure.”

“Don’t lie, Niklaus, it’s not very becoming on you,” she murmured, peering at him critically. 

Klaus knew she was still angry about being looked over as Alpha but Mikael was far too sexist to ever make that decision. It wasn’t right, it was just how things were. But Klaus had every intention of using her power and strength to his advantage.

“Rebekah,” Lucien greeted her lazily. “I’d say it’s a pleasure but you know I’d be lying.” 

“You know, Lucien, there is a thing called a razor, you might want to use it sometime, facial hair does absolutely nothing for you.”

“Okay, children, enough!” 

Caroline...

“I could think of at least fifty other things I’d prefer to be doing right now,” Enzo complained. 

Caroline just shook her head. They’d been best friends and roommates for a while now and his whining knew no bounds. 

She looked at the Fox and Hound Bar looming ahead wondering if she was doing the right thing. Caroline considered herself to be level-headed for the most part. She executed everything she did with calm consideration but, unfortunately, when it came to a certain wolf things had a tendency to fly out the window, even after all these years. 

She wasn’t sure why he still had that effect on her. He had no right to invade her thoughts after running away and leaving her but yet here she was. It was five years ago now and Caroline had been living and studying at College far away in California so it shouldn’t matter anymore. But it did. 

“Do we think that pulling the fake boyfriend thing to make someone jealous is a little To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before?”

“You’ve been watching far too much Netflix,” she muttered. “When we get back to LA I’m cutting you off for your own good, Lorenzo.”

“What exactly is the plan? And just so you know, I’m not kissing you,” he muttered, his disgusted expression saying it all.

“Wow, way to make a girl feel good about herself,” she shot back nervously, looking down at her outfit and fiddling with her golden waves that were cascading down her back. She’d decided on the perfect make your ex regret he ever messed with you ensemble. 

Translation; black, leather pants fitted like a second skin and a cropped, Rolling Stones t-shirt. The pants were to make him wish her legs were wrapped around his waist in an entirely non-PG way and the t-shirt because she knew he preferred the Beatles. It was the perfect combination of sexy and sassy. 

“You look gorgeous, darling,” he replied, reaching out and squeezing her hand comfortingly. “But are you sure this is a good idea? You’ve spent the past five years trying to get over this guy and failed.”

“I date,” she stuttered. 

“Your teddy bear doesn’t count, Forbes,” he replied sarcastically. “Anyway, what is your plan? We both know your singing is off the charts but what happens after you ace the audition?” 

Caroline knew what was next and it wasn’t just a little bit of jealous payback. She had been waiting for the day that he returned to the States so she could put her plan in motion.

Her father and the pack were on the precipice of dominating the Mikaelsons but the strategy to appoint a new Alpha had put a rather large dent in their plans. Mikael was predictable in combat, Klaus completely dangerous because he was the absolute opposite.

As soon as Bill had told her, Caroline knew it was time to return to the family fold. She knew he’d put out the call to entice her for his own purposes but Caroline was going to play the Alpha at his own game. 

“We call a truce.”

“How does that fit into the revenge plan, darling?” 

“Patience, Enzo, all in good time.” 

Caroline straightened her t-shirt and powered ahead, nervous but at the same time exhilarated for what was to come. Klaus Mikaelson wouldn’t know what hit him. 

TBC?

[takonei]

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 3, daily life (Part 2)

Note of the author: It’s motive time bois.

Chapter 3: What is beyond humans’ control - Daily life

Day 10 since the beginning of the game. 8:00 AM.

Shuichi woke up at the morning announcement. he slept better than expected, thankfully.

After taking a shower, he got dressed up to join the others in the dining hall.

Just as he left his room, he saw Angie leaving her room as well.

“Oh, hey Angie.” he yawned.

The girl span around so fast she almost tripped on her own feet. “G’morniiing!”

Shuichi chuckled. The two started making their way to the dining hall together.

“Apparently you helped Himiko and Kokichi making statues yesterday?” he decided to start a conversation.

She nodded. “Yeah! I taught them how to use chisels and hammers and woodpeckers and a lot of other tools!”

“I see,” he smiled. “That must have been fun then.”

She grinned. “Although they’re not the best at it, it was their first time!”

There was a short silence.

Shuichi didn’t know if asking her about her island was a good idea, but it was worth a shot. “Hey... I know this is probably a touchy subject for you and I won’t force you to talk but... How was it back there, sculpting?”

But when he looked at her, her eyes were empty. She had stopped in her tracks. “... I wish I could slaughter Atua with my own hands for all the shit he put all of us priestesses through. Just cutting him like Monokuma cut Maki with the scissors and watch his-”

The violinist couldn’t believe what she was saying. He wanted to put his hands on her shoulders, but refrained from doing so. “Angie! I-”

He paused. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have talked about this.”

She stared at him silently for a moment, then took a step back. “I told you, didn’t I? This is all behind me now! Now I can live with you all here in the academy!”

Shuichi didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to leave but seeing Angie like this made him feel sad. He had a family to go back to, but for those like Kirumi and Angie, this was a whole other story.

“Let’s... Just go to the dining hall. Miu and Kirumi probably already made breakfast.” he couldn’t look at Angie in the eyes. “But please consider talking to Kiyo about all of this. He can try to help you just please...”

He looked at her with pleading eyes. “Talk to someone about this.”

She looked at him with dumbfounded eyes, but then smiled. “Sure thing! But you don’t have to worry about this, Shuichi!~”

They finished their walk in silence.

When they reached the dining hall, Shuichi hoped to see breakfast ready and some of the others here to brighten up the mood.

Unfortunately, a way more confusing scene unfolded in front of his eyes.

Ryoma was in the corner of the room, curled into a ball, Rantaro desperately trying to talk to him.

“Ryoma please- Are you feeling okay??” he asked.

“S-Stay away from me! What did I even do to you?” the small man shakily replied. That was... Unusual.

Miu was a few meters away. She subtly approached the two.

“What’s going on with him?” Shuichi whispered to her.

“No one knows what’s going on. Ryoma looks afraid of everything and everyone, Tsumugi seems to have amnesia and we’ve been trying to understand the situation for twenty minutes. The two also have a huge fever from what Rantaro said.” she replied, as confused as him.

The others came in one by one, and explaining what was going on was impossible.

Rantaro was desperately trying to resonate with Ryoma, but it was useless.

Kirumi tried to talk to Tsumugi, but all she got from her was “Who are you?” and “Where are we?”

Once everyone got into the dining hall, the monokubs popped in.

“My goodness! That’s obviously bad!” Monophanie exclaimed.

The students turned to the bears.

“Teddy bears?” Tsumugi asked, confused.

“What did you do to them??” Miu yelled.

“Ahem! It looks like you want some explanations...” Monotaro said.

“Yeah no shit.” Kaito glared at him.

“MEET-YOUR-NEW-MOTIVE. THE-DESPAIR-DISEASE.” Monodam explained.

That didn’t seem to answer a lot of questions.

“We... May or may not have let some tiny insects inside the academy and it looks like they find you all appetizing!” The pink bear rubbed the back of her head.

Rantaro sighed. “Quit your bullshit. This is obviously your doing. No existing disease infects people that differently.” he glanced at Tsumugi, quietly sitting on a chair and Ryoma, curled up in a ball in the corner of the room.

“How dare you assume we’re lying! Bears never lie!” the red one raised his metal paws up in the air. “Anyway. It’s a really annoying disease where you get a high fever, along with various symptoms!”

Monodam pointed at the two sick students. “TSUMUGI-HAS-THE-AMNESIC-DISEASE. RYOMA-HAS-THE-COWARD-DISEASE.”

Kiyo put a finger on his chin. ”So basically the opposite of their normal personalities.”

“But be careful! Sometimes the despair disease can get passed from person to person just like a cold!” Monophanie put her paws on her cheeks.

Rantaro’s eyes widened. “And it had to be contagious of course.” He approached the bear. “And what’s the cure?”

“THIS-DISEASE-DOESN’T-NEED-A-CURE. IT-WILL-HELP-EVERYONE-GET-ALONG.”

“That’s right! It’s in the most difficult situations that you guys help each other. We thought that would help you all!”

Everyone fell silent. The absurdity of the statement was way too much.

The cubs, noticing the sudden tension in the room, chanted their catchphrase and left.

Shuichi glanced at Rantaro. He looked beyond mad. He took a deep breath and clapped his hands once.

“We’re gonna have to isolate them for now. Except we don’t have a comfortable separated facility for them.”

Shuichi pondered. “So we’ll have to keep them in their own rooms...”

“This is going to be a nightmare to take care of them. I have stuff in my lab but if I have to walk from my lab to the dormitories each time they need something I’m not going to keep up for long.”

Kirumi was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed. “I know this isn’t the best place, but what about the three rooms on the fourth floor? We’ll have to transport stuff here but at least it’s closer.”

“That’s probably the best we can do for now.” He lifted his head to look at everyone else. “I’ll stay here to keep an eye on them for now. Please try to make two of those rooms as comfortable as possible for them. There are three beds in my lab. I’m counting on you for this.”

“W-wait...”

Kokichi raised his hand. “I d-don’t really know... M-Maybe I’m wrong but... I feel like I have it t-too...”

Himiko jumped. “Huh? Really?”

He nodded. “I... I feel dizzy a-and my head is spinning... But I don’t feel any mental change s-so I’m not sure.”

Rantaro approached him and put the palm of his hand on the small boy’s forehead. “You’re feverish. We shouldn’t take any risks.

He pondered for a moment. “Does anyone else feel sick, aside from Kokichi, Tsumugi and Ryoma?”

No answer. “Good. You guys prepare the three rooms while I keep an eye on those three.”

Shuichi turned to him. “Hold on, you're volunteering to take care of them until they get better? You think you can take the risk being infected?”

He turned to the violinist. “I’ve seen worse. I’m the ultimate medic, so don’t worry about me, alright?”

The two stared at each other. Shuichi nodded. “Thanks a lot, Rantaro.”

The rest of the students spent the rest of the morning transporting the beds from the medic’s lab to the rooms. They also took furniture and items from various rooms and labs to make the room a bit more comfortable and less creepy than before.

Lamps and books from Tsumugi’s lab, chairs from Kirumi’s lab, and some decoration and items from the other labs and the warehouse.

At least those rooms looked more like bedrooms than occult-ish rooms. Of course there wasn’t the usual comfort of the dorms, but it was better than nothing.

Shuichi let Rantaro guide the patients to their rooms. They were surprisingly cooperative.

Tsumugi, Ryoma and Kokichi... He really hoped those three would get better.

Shuichi went to Rantaro’s lab. It pained him a little to learn that he was going to do everything by himself from now on.

When he stepped in the room, he was wearing a mask and plastic gloves, carefully handling medicine, beaker and eyedropper in hand.

Once he saw the violinist entering the lab, he put down his tools to look at him. “Do you need something? It’s probably best if you don’t approach me too much, just in case.”

Shuichi winced. “I mean... We can’t let you do everything by yourself... Can we at least do something for you?”

“Shuichi’s right! I can’t just stay here and let you do all the work!” a feminine voice came from behind.

Miu had just appeared in the lab. But while Shuichi was calmly asking how he could help, the girl was clearly determined to do so.

“I... Want to help the others in this. I want to apologize for everything I did after the motive videos... Even though it’s just a little, I want to be useful.” She bowed to Rantaro.

Unfortunately his expression was almost unreadable because of his mask, but Shuichi could clearly see the surprise in his eyes.

Rantaro stood up. “Like I said it’s better if only one of us takes care of the patients, and I’m the most qualified for this. But...”

He paused.

“If it’s not too much to ask, could you please make individual meals for the ill ones and me? And perhaps bring me a sleeping bag since I’ll probably stay here for a while.”

Shuichi put a finger on his chin. “And you’ll probably need some clean clothes too...”

Miu quickly stood up, pointing two fingers to her temple. “Leave it to me!”

Rantaro smiled behind his mask. “However could you bring me dish soap with it? It would be bad to give you back contaminated empty dishes.”

Miu smiled. “Got it!” she turned her back to him, and added: “Make sure to take care of yourself, alright sweetie?”

The medic chuckled. “Alright, alright. Take care of yourself as well, okay?”

The street artist smiled and left. There was a visible blush on her face.

He turned back to Rantaro and giggled. “She really seems into you, calling you ‘sweetie’ like this...”

He shrugged. “I’m not really used to affection like that, but it feels nice. Although I don’t see her ‘that’ way.”

Oh.

“I’ll go for now. Just like she said, don’t overwork yourself, okay?” Shuichi said.

Rantaro gave him a thumbs up. “Don’t worry about me. We should be alright for now.”

-

The group spent lunch together, but there were four less people than what was supposed to be. Obviously Himiko looked worried for Kokichi, but Angie was keeping her company, so it was fine.

Afternoon came and with four less people around, the academy felt empty. But at least they were in good hands.

Himiko and Angie were once again sculpting items in the latter’s lab.

Kaito and Keebo were in the warehouse. The biker had tried to replace Tsumugi and Ryoma for his maintenance.

Miu and Kirumi were cooking in the kitchen some meals and snacks for the infected ones and Rantaro.

Kiyo was outside, not doing anything in particular, so Shuichi approached him.

“Oh, hello Shuichi. Do you need anything?” he asked.

He shook his head. “Not really. Just thought we could hang out.”

The two sat under the wisterias of the courtyard. They had a relaxing feeling, and Shuichi often saw Kiyo talking to people under here.

The violinist picked a flower and started fiddling with it. “What do you think about all of this? I’ve never heard what you thought about this situation.”

Kiyo looked at him. “About what exactly?”

“I would guess the disease... Rantaro said he didn’t believe the bears and said they were lying about the origin of the disease.”

The therapist pondered for a moment, staring at the void.

“... I don’t really know. To be honest I’m contemplating the possibility of the mastermind being one of the ill ones.”

Shuichi’s eyes widened. “Huh? You think the mastermind is either Ryoma, Tsumugi or Kokichi?”

“I didn’t say that I was sure, just that we should not exclude the possibility.”

The violinist frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean...”

“Let’s say the mastermind is the one who gave the ‘disease’ to us. We would obviously think they wouldn’t give the disease to themselves. So they could have just given themselves a fever and act like have the disease.”

Shuichi put his elbows on his knees, head resting on his hands. “But can we even be sure there is a mastermind among us? Maki’s execution still went on even though Monokuma was destroyed, and he came back right after...”

“I don’t really know about this part. We thought that the mastermind would go to the hidden room to summon another Monokuma, but Maki’s execution proved us that it wasn’t the case.”

Shuichi tried to think. “Maybe... They had a remote on them?”

Kiyo narrowed his eye. “That’s a possibility. But... Monokuma wants us to feel despair, right?”

Shuichi raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Because Monokuma reappeared the next day the first time he was crushed, we assumed someone had to go in the hidden room to manually create another one, and they needed to wait until everyone was asleep to act.”

He nodded.

“But if Monokuma’s objective is to destroy our hopes, the mastermind probably let us hope he was definitely destroyed, then created another one to intensify the psychological effect. They could have been able to do it since the very beginning. However, since Maki’s execution was an emergency, they didn’t have time to think and immediately created another one.”

Shuichi lowered his head. “That’s messed up... But that doesn’t explain how they do so...”

“I’m not sure. The remote seems like a plausible theory. We were all in a panic when the courtroom was falling appart, so they could have done something without us realizing.”

That... Made sense.

“But if they can create another Monokuma whenever they want, doesn’t that mean there is a possibility they’re not among us and simply hiding in the hidden room?”

Kiyo hummed. “It’s possible, however since there is still a chance they’re in this group, I wouldn’t talk too quickly.”

Shuichi nodded.

“But to come back to what you said about the despair disease, what would the mastermind gain by giving themselves the disease?” he asked.

“To make us think they’re not one of them, at the risk of not being able to do anything since Rantaro keeps an eye on them at all times. But that would be quite the gamble.” Kiyo explained.

That was quite unlikely, Shuichi thought, but not impossible.

“And Rantaro... I can’t say for certain. He has a great influence on the others but I know a genuine speech when I see one. That’s what last trial proved me.” he added.

Shuichi remembered Kirumi’s words the day before.

‘Willing to listen’ and ‘trusting’ are two very different things. That’s what differentiates strategists and friends.

Rantaro... He was a strategist. He gave the key to his lab to Ryoma in case someone tried to get it from him. He knew another killing would happen and did his best to keep the group calm and rational. Even going as far as to expose the truth about the lack of benefits he would get by escaping. He also volunteered to take care of the ill students all by himself. It was clear he wanted to have a good influence on the group. To be in control of the situation, in a good way.

But him being the mastermind wasn’t something Shuichi wanted to think about.

A part of him also hoped Kiyo wasn’t the mastermind and said all those theories on purpose to confuse him.

The discussion felt tiring.

The two decided to drop the subject for now to talk about their respective lives.

-

Evening came. The rest of the group joined in the dining hall but Shuichi still felt like someone was missing.

There were 12 students alive in the academy. 3 of them were resting because of the illness and one was taking care of them. Yet only half of the remaining students were in the dining hall.

After a quick glance, Shuichi noticed both Miu and Himiko were absent.

Right after thinking that, the street artist entered the dining hall, alone.

“Where’s Himiko?” he asked as she sat in front of Kaito.

“She’s in front of Kokichi’s room and they talk through the door. She’s been at it for an hour now and I don’t think she’ll leave soon.” Miu explained.

Kaito raised an eyebrow as he was eating. “Rantaro doesn’t mind?”

She shook her head. “He said as long as Himiko doesn’t enter the room it’s fine. Also that she must be out of the way during his checks.”

She took a sip of water from her glass. “So right now they’re eating dinner separated by a door.”

Shuichi nodded. Rantaro probably knows more about him about what they should do.

After finishing dinner, since there wasn’t much to do, everyone parted their ways. However there was one last thing Shuichi needed to do.

He quickly looked at his monopad to see where the therapist was. He was outside, on a bench near the wisterias, as usual.

It didn’t take long for Shuichi to reach him.

“Hey, Kiyo?”

He turned to him. He seemed to have been lost in his own thoughts. “Do you need anything?”

He winced. This was a touchy subject, but he had to.

“I think you should try to talk to Angie... I’m a bit concerned about her.”

He explained the whole situation. What she told him in her lab and their discussion this morning.

Kiyo hummed.

“I see. If as you say she resents her home more than this entire killing game, then there is a high possibility she went through severe trauma.”

He stood up. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll talk to her tomorrow, since it is getting late.”

The two went back to the dormitories, hoping Rantaro would be fine by himself.

The disease didn’t need to make any more victims and suffering.

They could only hope for the best.

[reverseblackholeofwords]

Bo and Yancy

So, @rubbersoles19 and I shared many headcanons following the Heist, and it’s about time I’ve gotten around to writing some of them! And if this gets incredibly angsty, well, at least I’m not the only one to blame this time XD

Part One: The Start of an Adventure

“I don’t wanna be free, leave me in luxury...” Yancy begins whistling to himself, snapping his fingers as he half-dances and half-walks down the hall to the Warden’s office. He slides the rest of the way to the partially open door and halts just as a very small, very angry woman comes bursting from the room yelling and throwing her perfectly manicured hands around.

“This is on all our heads, do you hear me?” She snaps at Yancy. “All of our heads!”

Yancy raises his hands and tiptoes around the tiny lady as she stomps off down the hallway escorted by a jaded guard. The jailbird watches her go, confusion wrinkling up his brow.

“Yancy!” The thick Western accent of the Warden startles Yancy from his stupor, and he shakes his head before ducking into the office.

“Youse called for me Warden?” Yancy asks. His relationship with the Warden is odd at the best of times, possibly bordering on abusive at the worst. Happy Trails prides itself on the rehabilitation of its prisoners, but not many of them particularly like the new Warden. They do like Yancy, on the other hand. So from time to time, the Warden calls Yancy in to get his thoughts on any changes or issues.

“Have a seat, my boy,” Murder-Slaughter says and kicks his feet up onto his desk. “Tell me, Yancy, do you know anything about physics?”

Yancy blinks. “Um, no, Mr. Warden. I never finished high school with my numb skull, ya know? I was more of a fighter. Got into all kinds of trouble...”

“Yeah, yeah,” the Warden says, interrupting Yancy who clams up immediately. “That little dynamo that just went stomping out of here is Professor Beauregard. The woman has like six degrees or something, but she wants some of our inmates to help her with some grunt work around her labs, something about the zombie apocalypse or something. Isn’t that whacky?”

“Totally whacky,” Yancy says with a nod even though he thinks that the zombie apocalypse is definitely something that should be taken seriously. But then again, he thinks, he’s just an idiot, what does he know?

The Warden gets up and walks to the window, glancing out as Professor Beauregard jumps up into her mud and... possibly blood covered Jeep and speeds out of the parking lot of the prison. “But, she’s agreed to donate a great deal of money to this here establishment if we agree to help her out, so I’m thinking of accepting her kind offer.” He turns back around. “Would any of the inmates be interested in a little... extracurricular activity?”

Yancy purses his lips. “Not sure about that, Warden, but I can ask around with the boys and the goils and see what they say.”

Warden smacks Yancy on the shoulder which hurts significantly more than it should. “Good on you, Yancy, my boy!” He lifts Yancy from the chair and walks him to the door. “Get back to me with a list of four interested parties by lunch tomorrow, and then we’ll talk about that musical you boys want to put on for us!”

“Really?” Yancy gasps happily, eyes wide.

The Warden pushes him through the door. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Remember what I said. At least four names.” Then he slams the door in Yancy’s face.

“I don’t wanna be free!” Yancy continues to sing as he dances back down the hall to the doors that lead out into the yard. “Of these amenities!” He laughs and bursts out into the morning air.

Tiny and Bam Bam roll their eyes at the greaser and motion him over. “What did the Warden want?” Tiny whispers conspiratorially. The young woman doesn’t talk much, but she always says she feels more comfortable around Yancy than anyone else. He isn’t really sure why, but he’s glad to make her feel safe.

“There’s this scientist lady who wants help at her lab.” Yancy hops up onto the table beside Bam Bam, and the beefy specimen of a man tilts his head back to look up at the sky.

“Cold front’s coming in from the west,” he mutters. He used to be a weather man before a particularly bad day on the job when he went postal and shoved an entire cup of pens down his boss’s throat. But Yancy has never been scared of him. He’s really a teddy bear. “Hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow during dress rehearsal.”

“Come on, guys,” Yancy needles them a little. “This could be a fabulous opportunity to get out of here for a bit and do something worthwhile!”

“Then why don’t you sign up to go help the mad scientist?” Tiny teases. “Or do you think that if you’re too helpful they might just give you the boot out of this place?”

Yancy shudders. “No way, no how. I ain’t letting them get rid of me that easily.”

“Maybe if you proved how completely inept you were at helping that scientist lady, they’d really keep you in here,” Bam Bam offered in his deep, deep voice. It made Yancy feel like his brain was vibrating when he sat this close. “You could lift something, blow something up. I know a few good stink bomb recipes.”

Yancy wiggles his eyebrows. “Now there’s an idea! But I don’t think she’d want me anyway, seeing as I’m not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“You should totally do it,” Tiny urges Yancy, poking his shoulder.

Yancy pokes out his bottom lip. He’s always found that the best way to lead is to be the first to volunteer, so... “You know what? I will! Who knows! Maybe she can teach me a thing or two,” he says with a laugh and knocks his knuckles against his forehead.

The next day Yancy has his list of names, and the scientist lady stomps up and down the line of six inmates who have agreed to help out. But she shocks them all by tapping her chin and clicking her high heels against the cracked tile floor and proclaiming, “I only need one of you. And I’ll have to do a quick test, if you don’t mind, so just... hold still.”

She pulls out a strange device with a long tube protruding from the front. The professor walks down the line, scanning up and down each inmate until she gets to Yancy. Her device begins beeping loudly. She looks up at Yancy and blows some hair from her eyes. “Name?”

“Yancy,” he says, scratching his nose.

Professor Beauregard looks back over her shoulder at the Warden who has leaned back and fallen asleep with his eyes open--Yancy can tell. He does it a lot when he pretends to be listening. “Hey, you!” The professor yells, startling Murder-Slaughter awake. The inmates stifle their laughter. “I’ll take this one.” She gestures to Yancy.

Murder-Slaughter shakes his head. “Sorry, ma’am. I’m going to have to say, no to that.” He claps Yancy on the shoulder again. “What are you doing here, boy? I thought we had an agreement that you were to stay here with me.”

Yancy begins to fumble. “Oh, b-but Warden, this ain’t a permanent thing, you know. I just thought that maybe I could learn a thing or two, maybe b-better myself...”

The Warden grips his fingertips deep into the skin of Yancy’s shoulder, and he winces, knowing it will bruise. “No, no, no. None of that. You head back to your cell, boy.” He looks around. “In fact, why don’t all of you go to your cells while I have a conversation with the good professor here?”

Beauregard stomps her foot. “This is ridiculous! I thought you agreed to let me have the prisoner of my choice!” Yancy can hear her voice echoing down the hall as he walks back to his cell where two of the meaner, tougher guards are waiting.

“Yancy!” one of them says with a yellow-toothed smile. “How you been, buddy?”

“Did you really think you were getting out of here for even a day, scumbag?” the other guard asks, grabbing Yancy by his hair.

The prisoner yelps and tries to pry away the guard’s fingers. “N-no! I was just...”

“Why don’t you take a little time to think about what landed you here in the first place. You murderer.” The guard swings Yancy by his hair and tosses him into his cell before slamming the door shut. “And we’ll see you tomorrow.”

They walk away chuckling to each other, and Yancy rubs at his scalp while pushing himself up to lean against his bed. He sighs. He shouldn’t be disappointed. He’s always the first to say how much he loves being here, where he has all he could ever ask for. Food, a bed, warm showers, a family--what more could he want?

So he hums to himself and begins to sing again, breathy and quiet and with less of his showy accent, “I don’t wanna be free...” And he pretends that it’s true until it is again.

Who needs that crazy scientist lady anyway?