#give it a rest with the ominous love interests please

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi,it's nice to find your page! Especially someone who also adores and admires the Weasley twins (together or not together stories)

Can you make a drabble about vulnera-sanentur,it's 19 years later. Since you were already pregnant and with only little Henry at home,while your other children were at Hogwarts. Can you do,Henry accidentally walking in on you three,making love. It was kinda you threes fault,you guys were to loud,and left the door unlock after getting too excited. And since little henry was still a kid,he didn't understand and the twins just told him to get out,give mommy and daddies some privacy. Then,while you guys "continue",Henry started writing to his siblings,saying he was scared and that daddies were hurting mommy in the bedroom.

Immediately the other children came off,ready to defend their mother.

You can twist some parts💝 please and thank you,have a nice day

Hi love! This has been an absolute pleasure to write, it’s been so nice to dive back into the Vulnera Sanentur universe. I hope it’s okay that I set it around Christmas, hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: Mentions of sex, sexual references, threats, illusions to abuse but no actual abuse takes place, nothing graphic.

Word count: 3.4k (I got carried away)

As a note this is set during the epilogue: 19 years after the Vulnera Sanentur story (here if you want to read)

Fred, George and Reader have 4 kids and another on the way. Aurora (Rory) is in her fifth year, twins Griffon and Finn are third years and Henry is 8.

Vulnera Sanguinem

"Oi Griff! Isn't that Owlbert?" Finn nods to his twin across the table in the great Hall towards the Owl approaching rapidly as a number of various others disperse mail to their recipients over breakfast.

Just a few seats up from them, their older sister Aurora cringes at the awful name of the family bird, hoping none of her friends heard and mentally regretting her youngest brother's honour of naming him.

The twins look with identical confusion as the bird comes to a close stop just before them and drops off an unfamiliar letter before nicking a piece of abandoned bread crust from Finn's plate and flying off towards the Owlery for a rest. The twins give each other a look, confused and a little concerned at the hastily scribbled writing on the front. Rory peeks over, the letter peaking her interest but she plays it down, not wanting to spook her brothers. All three of the Weasley kids know that their parents always sent Mail out on a Monday, one each for all their kids and never shared so one single letter arriving is most suspicious, especially considering it was the last Friday of school before Christmas break. They'd all be home tomorrow, why would a letter come now?

"Open it mate," Griff says, thrusting it into Finn's hands but he refuses, instead handing it back to Griffon who sighs, accepting the task.

"It's from Henry," Griffon says with a scrunched up face. He reads in silence, growing more and more confused and concerned as he tries to make out Henry's scribbled writing. Apparently all he had on hand when he wrote the letter was a red crayon, not making it easy for his brother to read.

"Common room, now," Griffin suddenly says to Finn who looks on in concern as his twins suddenly seriousness, something that never happened. They rise quickly from the table and Finn nods to Rory who's watching closely, urging her to follow them.

Once they are back in the deserted common room, they huddle in a corner and take turns passing around the letter, each observing the ominous words. Rory's hand shoots to her mouth in disbelief, tears already welling in her eyes as DH reads her youngest brother's words over and over again.

"Surely not," Finn says, in complete denial, his face stricken. "You really think dad would hurt mum?"

"Which dad though?" Griff says, hunched over as he sits on the arm of one of the sofas.

"Does it matter?" Rory bursts angrily, "none of our daddies would do this!"

"Not what it says there," Griff defends, feeling sickened he'd even have to say those words.

"Then Henry's wrong!" Finn stands, his arms dramatically rising as he makes his point, the usually quieter twin standing his ground and making his point clear. It falls silent between the three siblings for a moment as they consider the options, Finn's outburst making them pause.

"But what if he's not?" Rory says quietly, her eyes rising to the two boys who look nearly identical to her dad's, causing another painful stab to her heart as she's reminded once again of the situation.

——

There's a spring in your step as you bounce around the kitchen, listening to Christmas music and preparing the twins' favourite chocolate cake ready for your oldest three coming back home tomorrow, ready for Christmas break. You were planning on making a selection of everyone's favourite food, double chocolate cake for the twins, a mini apple crumble for Rory and a big roast dinner for everyone with Henry's favourite crispy roast potatoes. You'd even nipped to got some knotgrass mead for your husbands especially and had cooked a batch of Christmas cookies ready for everyone to share. You knew you wouldn't have a lot of time to prepare everything tomorrow, having to pick the kids up just after midday as they arrived back to King's Cross.

"Oooh something smells good in here," you hear George say, stepping into the kitchen. You try to turn towards him but he's behind you in moments, hips pressing into your behind as his lips ghost over the skin of your neck, your hair having been thrust up into a bun when you started baking. Your eyes close with the sensation, already worked up just at the feel of your husband behind you, his semi-excited crotch rubbing against the curve of your bum as his left hand cups your prominent bump, taking a little bit of weight off of it. His right finger drags through a bit of the extra icing, scooping it onto his finger tip as he brings it to his mouth, tasting the chocolaty sweetness with a little moan of satisfaction. You reach to turn off the radio, not wanting anything to spoil this moment, your full attention on George.

"Want to take this into the bedroom?" He says quietly, leaning down to seductively whisper into your ear as he taps the metal mixing bowl. "I could cover you in this delicious icing and lick every single bit off, your choice of where."

You struggle to remain composed at the idea, very invested in the idea of George's tongue on your heated skin.

"Didn't you get enough last night Mr Weasley?" You purr, reaching your hand up to stroke his hand as it rested on your bump. Your body was throbbing already for this, the wonderful surprise of George turning up feeling like the most fortunate timing.

"Never enough Mrs Weasley," George counters in a deep voice, thrusting his crotch into your bum so you could feel the hardness of him against you, hoping he'd be able to tempt you.

You spin around in his arms, a considerably difficult feat thanks to your large bump but George doesn't care, his arms staying firmly around you as his gaze travels to your cleavage where your shirt is considerably stretched across your growing breasts.

"Merlin you look so fucking good pregnant," he growls before capturing your lips in a blazing kiss that forces you to reach out for the counter to stabilise yourself.

You break apart in shock when you hear the front door open, both of you looking towards each other in concern as you scramble to look for the time.

"Mummy?" You hear Henry shout and even more confused, you check the clock on the wall and see that it's only half 2, definitely not when you were expecting him.

"Hi sweetheart, what are you doing home so early?" You call out, waiting for him to appear as you trying to fix yourself to look like you weren't just fooling around with George, who tries equally hard to adjust himself. You walk to the fridge to get him a drink ready and wait for him to appear, inevitably wanting a drink and a snack.

"Last hour was just watching films, we've got films at home why would I stay there when there's," Henry calls out and you can hear him moving through the house, his voice moving closer until he makes an abrupt stop upon seeing you and George in the kitchen. He freezes upon seeing George and quickly looks to you before running up and giving you a tight hug, which is not entirely out of character but something didn't seem right with you.

"Hey watch the baby bud," George says, his face scrunched up at seeing his son be a bit rough.

Henry doesn't let go as you expected and you look down at him, trying to see if there was something wrong.

"Errr I need you, my room, something to show you," he simply says, dragging you along by the hand as you protest, knowing you need to finish the cake but he seems so upset that you couldn't deny him.

He seemed off for the rest of the evening, keeping a watchful eye on you when he thought you weren't looking and almost entirely keeping away from George who was as bewildered as you at your son's strange behaviour. Usually he was all George, much to Fred's displeasure, but it seemed today that he was mummy's best friend. Naturally you assumed it was because of the baby, the youngest struggling to cope with the idea of not being the baby of the family anymore and having to share his parent's attention but when you'd say him down to talk, he'd dismissed it entirely.

Fred tried when he got back from work but nothing seemed to work and he seemed as distressed by Fred as he did George.

You were back in the kitchen again, starting to prepare dinner for the four of you and still hoping for the last night of relative peace before the others get back tomorrow when you heard a deep rumble from behind you, your heart racing as you investigate.

"Fred!" You scream out, not knowing who to call out for first in your panic when you see the mostly unused fireplace knocking from the living room knocking about from the inside, rumbling and groaning. Fred's by your side in mere seconds with George following only moments later, half undressed in only his shirt, tie and boxers getting ready for a shower, sporting a very concerned expression. Fred ushers you gently to the side, with George instinctively placing his hand around your waist in protection as you all pull out your wands and raise them towards the fireplace. You think of Henry alone upstairs and your stomach lurches, not knowing what to expect.

Faint voices appear like an ominous whisper and you hold your breath as they become louder and clearer. The fireplace suddenly illuminates in vibrant green, flames erupting from the base and you jump back in surprise, the floo network having always been temperamental in this fireplace. Who would come here at this time, especially unannounced?

"I told you it wasn't this one!" You heard a somewhat familiar voice say in a clear but irritated voice.

"Well we're here aren't we? Technically." A second but equally as familiar voice counters.

You all seem to lower your wands in sync, letting out long sighs of relief as the situation becomes less ominous with every passing second, realisation settling across all three of you who the voices belonged to.

"You two are the stupidest sodding-." A girls voice cuts out as all three figures appear in the fireplace, suddenly finding their way out of the apparently convoluted floo.

"Mum!"

Rory runs to you, hugging you closely and avoiding your bump as the boys move quickly over to you aswell, flanking each side and nearly towering over you already.

"We're here as well you know!" Fred calls out from the side, the three kids apparently forgetting their two dads were standing in the same room, completely overlooked.

"What are you doing here?" You beam, trying to touch and hug all of your kids individually whilst still being wrapped around all three. "What a surprise!" You couldn't believe they were here, that they'd come to surprise you early. You weren't prepared for them but it didn't matter, too happy in the moment that all your kids were back under one roof.

"Griff! Finn! Rory!" Henry squeals in delight as he runs straight past his daddies to join the cuddle pile, with Finn enthusiastically scooping him up in his arms.

"You do realise you all have two other parents right?" George says jokingly from beside Fred, though their amusement is slowly fading as time passes, their children not acknowledging them at all. The complete joy in your being also begins to fade as the tone suddenly shifts to a much darker, uncomfortable one.

"Okay what's going on?" Fred says suddenly, moving over to you, catching on to the children's weird behaviour. As he moves closer, the twins pull away from you, as does Rory and then Henry who all face their dads with matching looks of hurt and anger.

"Griffon Frederick Weasley!" You scold with fearful surprise as Griff pulls out his wand, pointing it directly at Fred, whilst Aurora does the same to George.

"Aurora Rose, put that wand down this instant!"

You watch in complete astonishment as Finn also pulls out his wand from beside you, pointing it in the vague direction of his dads, whilst Henry pulls out his own faux-wand made from a carved twig that he now wields in an almost threatening motion.

"Woah!" Fred says with complete dread in his eyes as he watched each of his beloved children pointing their wands at him, whilst George looks on in anguish, hurt by very notion.

"Move away from mummy!" Henry shouts, tears welling in his eyes as he looks at his daddies, his twig still pointed at them.

"Guys," he tries to argue but complies, never even thinking about pulling out his own wand on his own children. Both him and George move away with evident pain in their eyes as they comply, hoping all this is just a skit. Griff doesn't relent even for a minute and begins shouting at George and Fred as they still naturally protest what's happening.

"That's enough!" You shout, pulling out your wand to extinguishing the still roaring fire behind you. With another flick of your wand, you magically close the blinds, turn off the radio and suddenly create an harmless explosion above which catches all of them all off guard. You take the opportunity to leap forward and snatch their wands out of their hands, not having the conscience to magically expel their wands from their hands and march over to where Fred and George stand shell-shocked. The kids cry out for both their wands being taken and in protest of you moving forward but you silence them with a simple harsh stare.

"Sit down," you say calmly but forcefully, though you are fuming underneath the surface at their foolishness. "If you all have an issue, we're going to talk about it like civilised humans not brainless creatures." Your harsh glare softens as they do as they are told, even Griffon who is always the most resistant.

"Who wants to go first?"

Silence follows as you look between your kids, all of them looking sheepish but not forthcoming.

"We don't want you to get hurt again," Finn mumbles, averting his eyes and sounding so much like George in that moment that it makes you pause, your mind whirlingnwith his words.

"Me get hurt?" You ask in bewilderment, more confused than ever. "I'm not hurt darling."

"You were," Rory says quietly, tears beginning to build in her eyes, the anger fading from her beautiful face and the emotions now coming out.

You walk over to where they sit, bending down in front of them, hiding the slight sense of your aching hips and burdening bump as you do so. You shoot a glance towards your husbands, telling them to stay there which they surprisingly complying with.

"What's really going on here? I'm fine, I've been fine, no one's hurt."

"But Henry said!" Griff says, still a little more wound up than his siblings, the only one without the sad, forlorn expression on his face.

"Henry?" You ask, turning to your youngest, imploring him with a look of openness. "When? How did you? That's not important," you say with a shake of your head, realising there's a much bigger picture here.

"Henry, sweetheart please tell me everything."

He takes a long shaky breath and looks up at you, trying to judge if you were mad but finds nothing in your face to assume. "I heard daddy and dad hurting you last night."

Your face scrunches up in confusion, brown knitting tightly together as you search through your kind to figure out how in the world he could come to that conclusion.

"Hurting me? Sweetheart your dads have never hurt me and they never ever would," you say gently, your heart breaking at the thought. You can't even look at your husbands, knowing they would look distraught by Henry's words.

"But you were crying, it was loud," he mumbles, picking at the thread of his jumper.

"Honey I," you begin to say only to stop yourself abruptly when you realise exactly what he's talking about.

"Oh no, no no no no," you say, the shocking and quite frankly mortifying realisation hitting you as it all becomes clear. You slowly stand, reaching for the sofa arm as you do so to help you up until you can turn around to Fred and George with wide eyes. They look completely heartbroken, sorrowful looks in their eyes and shoulders slumped. You slowly walk over to your husbands, silencing Rory's protests with a single held up finger as you try to very quickly explain what Henry had actually heard. George looks utterly mortified and Fred doesn't look much better, both of them horrified at your conclusion

"Honey, what you heard last night," you begin to say, turning back and addressing Henry specifically.

"Your daddies weren't hurting mummy."

"We would never ever hurt your mummy," George interjects, voice breaking slightly with the emotion filled vow.

"What you heard," you pause, trying to find the right words in your embarrassed state, suddenly finding your mind void of any comprehension.

"What your mum is trying to say," Fred steps in, finding your lost words. "Remember when we had that little chat about the birds and the bees? About where babies come from." He leaves a moment of silence after his words, waiting for Henry to nod slightly in acknowledgement.

Rory suddenly gasps, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth as she realises quickly what her dad is trying to say. Henry's gaze shoots towards her, unnerved by her loud gasp, not quite clicking on to what Fred was trying to explain.

"Oh no," Finn suddenly says, mind whirling as he fills in his twin brother with a whisper, who instantly pales and looks sickened.

"What? That's disgusting! Henry!"

You wish right then that a portkey could carry you away anywhere but here, wishing for the ground to swallow you up.

"I don't get it!" Henry says, lip wobbling as he realises he's the last one to know.

"Darling, you remember how babies are made right? A mummy and a daddy," you try to calm him, watching him nod. "Special cuddles and all that? That's what you heard last night darling, they weren't hurting me at all."

It suddenly dawns on him and he looks between his three parents to get confirmation as the three other kids look positively ill at the conversation happening in front of them.

"But you've already made a baby," he suddenly says, eyeing your bulging stomach with suspicion. You hear Fred snicker from behind you and fight to hold back your own chuckle at his straightforward thinking.

"Yes darling that's right, but sometimes it's just what mummies and daddies do."

"This is awful, I'm going to my room," Rory says suddenly, almost looking queasy as she stands and attempts to walk off.

"You will do no such thing," you command, face suddenly hardening as you look between your children and raising an eyebrow. "Forgotten about the wand pointing have we?"

It's late now and with a hardly contained sigh, you place the last plate down onto the coffee table and walk back to the kitchen to retrieve some napkins for everyone. After your little chat, everyone had seemed to calm down and you'd watched with rapt anticipation as each of your kids apologised to their dads, giving them tight hugs filled with regretful tears. It had been an eventful and exhausting night, much different to what you had originally planned but you wanted to end it on a high, finding that original joy of your kids arriving home. You'd ordered Chinese takeaway for tea, void of all further energy and had put on a Christmas film for everyone to watch together.

You paused for a moment and looked at the living room in front of you, smiling as you do so at the scene before you. Henry is cuddled up next to George on one sofa, returning to his usual spot and Aurora is nestled into his other side. Griffon and Finn are on the floor by Fred’s feet, whispering and giggling in their own way. Fred’s arms are outstretched on the back of the sofa with an empty spot waiting for you. They tuck eagerly into the food and you watch with abundant fondness at the life you’d created around you, one hand on your bump as you feel the littlest Weasley rolling and kicking inside of you.

Maybe not right now, but you knew that someday you’d laugh about all of this- and remember to use a silencing charm in the bedroom next time.

[myfeelisfunny]

this season is so all over the place...it feels really rushed but also stretches unnecessary things for far too long...i hope they're going somewhere with this but honestly, pacing who???

[bunnygirllover45]

— VIVISECTION IS ANOTHER WAY OF SPELLING LOVE. ﹑◌﹒WARNINGS﹕Graphical descriptions of the body, Seth wants to study you like you're a computer or something, MC has few to no dialogue, gender neutral MC. Very bizarre at certain points. Medical bullshit and philosophical stuff. Bad English.

♱ ✧ ⤷ Word count: 1,6k words. (This one is a long mf)

The nights always brought the same dream with them; four walls and a room that belonged to an old movie, the walls were decorated with shelves filled with pots, pots with colorful flowers on them, some of them were carelessly placed on top of each other, pressing on top of the poor flower that was under the crushing weight of the other.

This room only had two big windows that illuminated the whole room, illuminating it in a red hue, no matter how much you tried to stare out the window nothing but red was visible. It seemed like if you stared too much into that void for a second, it would swallow you whole, making you part of the bloody landscape.

The furniture was scarce. A table, something that resembled a bookshelf that contained a few books, but the letters were illegible to you since you couldn’t move from your assigned seat; a chair by the aforementioned table. In the center of the table, was a small vase filled with fresh poppies.

The ambiance was a little theatrical, to be honest, you couldn’t even imagine someone living in a place like this, it didn’t look like a place where you could have plants either, most of them were placed against a wall all the way in the back of the room, shrouded by darkness. Not even the crimson light from the window could reach them.

“The light of this place isn’t good for them, I have checked it countless times. Instead of giving them life, it kills them.” You heard the voice of your companion seated in front of you, and when you turned your face to look at him you found the crimson again, but it wasn’t from the window this time, it was from his eyes.

Red. Red. It looked like it wanted to swallow you whole. Those spirals were like the circles of hell, one by one looking at your movements with caution. You tried to answer his words, maybe with a question, maybe with an affirmation, but it was always complicated talking when you entered this ‘dream’ and Seth knew it.

“You know.” he started. 

Standing up from his seat and dragging his fingers across the wood of the table he began to circle it, never breaking eye contact for a second. “I have been reading some very interesting books lately.” he continued, his voice dragging across the whole place with an ominous echo to it, which was impossible due to the small size of the place. “They're medicine books, vivisections, that’s what they call it.” a small smile formed on his lips.

“Vivisections?” you managed to ask, your voice merely a whisper. Seth sharpened his gaze, pleased with the sweet sound of your voice, and then he nodded. 

“Yes, vivisection. It’s like… taking an organism that’s still alive and opening it, to learn how they function on the inside.” 

Seth continued, his leather gloves dragging across the table from side to side while he continued to circle the table, like a vulture, though it looked like a mere distraction, a small gesture he did while talking. It didn’t stop it from being spine-chilling though, the elegance in his movements wasn’t natural. “It seemed interesting to me, sounds nasty, it probably is.” he laughed.

One blink was enough to make him disappear from your sight, but when you felt two hands resting on top of your shoulders you knew he was still there. “Seth?” you called out his name, and he responded with a gentle squeeze against your frame, then you felt his hot breathing against your ear, it made you shiver.

“I’m here,” he reassured, you couldn’t see his expression but you were pretty sure he was still smiling, it was rare to see him without that grin on his face. “Can you close your eyes for a second?”

His petition made you nervous, the fact you couldn’t even turn to look at him worsened the uneasy feeling, your survival instinct screaming for you to not close your eyes, to not give in. But Seth was always good with you every time you came here, so why not? “Please.” Seth whispered against your ear when he noticed you still didn’t close your eyes, the sound of his voice so close it made you tremble.

Going against all common sense you closed your eyes. Feeling Seth’s hands pulling away from your shoulders you almost opened them again unconsciously, but for some reason, it was like they were closed shut by an invisible force, heavy like lead.

“How obedient. How precious. This is one of the many reasons why I like you.” 

First, you felt his gloved hands on your face, the sensation now multiplied thanks to one of your senses being removed, the leather felt softer, the sounds louder, and Seth’s breathing hotter. “The brain is like the body’s computer, an insistent and adaptive little thing, it’s truly fascinating.” 

“I think your mind is the thing I like the most about you. From the small unconscious movements you make while you’re asleep to the most trivial conversations are born in this beautiful place. It never stops to amaze me.” 

Now his voice came from the right, his fingers slipping from your face to your back, your breathing quickening as soon as you felt his hands slipping under your clothes, Seth traced invisible circles on the now exposed skin. “From here I can feel your breathing, you moved a little, do my gloves feel cold?” 

Seth removed his hands and the next second you could feel the touch of his fingertips on top of your skin, it seemed like he had taken off his gloves. “Better~?”

His voice sounded a little playful. “Skin-to-skin contact is even more pleasurable, no? I imagine having your eyes closed makes the experience even more intense.” 

“I can hear your breathing more clearly. Your lungs are closer to my hands.” And you could feel his breathing, even hearing how we swallowed heavily, like trying to hold back any unwanted sounds from escaping. “What a celestial sound.”

“If I put my mouth on top of you right now I could kiss you until you ran out of air. Then you wouldn’t have any other option than breathing the air I give you, that way each particle of oxygen that enters your system would have my name written on it.”

You tried to move, expecting your legs to crash against the table in front of you, but again. you couldn’t move, but you could feel like… everything around you disappeared for a second.

“You like that? You want that?” And when you heard Seth’s voice coming from in front of you it was unmistakable, everything felt like a small space where only you and Seth existed. “Ask me. Ask me and I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you everything.” 

Then everything fell silent, eerily silent. Then his hands felt like they were back again in all the places he previously touched at the same time, your face, your back, your shoulders, his touch was hot, enveloping you like he wanted to swallow you, like the red color outside the window, like the red in his eyes.

“Here.” His fingers moved like snakes against the skin in your chest, you took a deep breath unconsciously, and Seth laughed. “Here’s your heart.” 

“Sometimes I want to push my fingers under your skin, I don’t want to hurt you, of course I don’t, but I would love to see how beautiful you’re from the inside.”

“Like a computer with all its parts exposed, I would like to grab them and build you again like a puzzle, no — like a beautiful statue.” 

Now his fingers moved up and down across your skin, just like the way he had touched the table before, it seemed like he had anticipated this moment from much before, what a macabre little thing his brain was. “Mhm…” you felt Seth’s soft hair against your chest, he was drinking the sound of your heart beating like he was in the middle of the desert and you were the most beautiful oasis. “This sound is even more beautiful.” 

“It’s beating fast, the little thing, how adorable. Is it fear? Is it love? What kind of feeling is accelerating your beautiful core? Is it me? It must be me, there’s no one else here.” 

“Hey, do you love me?” You couldn’t answer, Seth knew that. “I love you too, I love you too much.” 

“I want to grab you in between my arms and squeeze you so hard you’d break, I’ll kiss each piece while I put you back together. I would call you my most beautiful creation, there’s nothing more charming than being God’s favorite creation, no?” 

Now his voice didn’t come from the left nor the right, it felt like you were being enveloped by him, all your senses, your body, Seth wanted to kill you with soft caresses and sweet whispers of eternal devotion. He wanted to swallow you. He wanted to vivisection you.

“When you wake up from this, please remember my touch, remember these sensations, remember our vivisection. You’ll give me that, right?” 

“When you come back I’ll be waiting, I promise I’ll hug you so sweetly you’ll never want to wake up again. I’ll give you a paradise so sweet you’ll want to poison yourself in it.” 

Finally, you opened your eyes, but you weren’t in that eerie room, nor was Seth there anymore. You stared at the sheets of your bed, everything looked too white, it made your eyes hurt. Taking a deep breath you held your hand against your chest.

You could still feel him there. His touch was still present, tingling against your skin.

And when your eyes fell to the skin of your chest you could see it better, the red marks, like the light coming from the light from that room, like the color of the blood flowing through your veins.

The marks of Seth’s fingers were still there, in your skin.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hello, love your work. I would like to humbly request a Yan! Fremi with a reader who has cute aggression, saying how they'd blow up a forest or something idk. And maybe even Zhongli when in Dragon form if possible. Hopefully this makes sense and you have a great rest of the day.

I completely missed zhongli when reading this ask so i apologize but i did do freminet! uh feel free to request zhongli with this prompt again if you'd like, i wrote this while trying not to fall asleep so hopefully it's good <3

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, delusional behaviors, vague threats of violence/destruction, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Freminet at first takes a bit to understand that you don’t literally mean you want to do all those things, and that it’s just an exaggerated means of expression. He’s never had someone talk to him like that before so it confuses him. What does starting a forest fire have to do with how much you love him?

Once he comes to understand that it’s simply how you are, he tries to do his best to respond similarly, to show you how much he loves you. Freminet is all about mirroring your behaviors and interacting with your interests to show that he cares. Sometimes it comes off as a little strange though, because he doesn’t have cute aggression in the same way you do, so his declarations of love sound more like ominous threats. They’re still very sweet though.

“I love you so much I would sink all of Fontaine into the darkest depths of the ocean.” Freminet’s resting neutral face almost makes this seem like a promise, the way his eyes stare unblinkingly at yours like he expects you to be pleased to hear that. It’s charming in a way, knowing he’d be willing to go so far for you, but it’s also unsettling because there’s a part of you that almost believes him. Freminet has shown little restraint when it comes to expressing his love in other ways, people have gone missing, places have been burnt down, and he truly doesn’t seem to hold back.

He’s trying his best here, but his love language is gift-giving. Freminet will try to be cute aggressive back to you, but making and giving you little gifts, cool trinkets he finds underwater, or things he spotted in the shops in Fontaine, this is where he excels.

He does try to incorporate the things you say into your gifts though, to add a more personal touch. It’s just the type of person he is, Freminet loves you dearly and wants nothing but the best for you, even if that means bringing truth to his imitation cuteness aggression.

[unhappy-last-resort]

Golem's Treasure

Fandom: Morimens

Genre: Yandere

Main Characters: Uvhash, GN Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Stalking, erotic descriptions of blood-sucking, vaguely vampiric, implied nsfw, prob ooc, most definitely has some grammar or spelling mistakes because it's almost 2AM

A/N: So, Sensabo got me into Morimens and we both love Uvhash. He's kinda neat.

Hot water trickles down your skin, washing off the last of the soap and stress from the day and you breath in the humid air of your shower, a rare moment of warmth and peace in your dangerous day to day life but, time doesn't stand still for you, not even in the shower. With a sigh you shut off the water and pull open the curtain with a high-pitched screech of the metal hooks sliding over the pole, ready to dry yourself off and get ready for bed. Your favorite towel sits neatly folded right where you left it, and the steam floats in the air making the rest of the bathroom much less cold than you feared, along with the man crouched in the corner, watching you.

Unsurprisingly, you shriek and haphazardly yank the shower curtain forward, fumbling loudly much to the amusement of your intruder- whose cackles are bouncing off the walls and hurting your ears.

“Your frightened expressions are my favorite! I should do this more often- By the way, you make a lot of interesting noises in there, I was tempted to go and see what you were doing.”

You clenched the curtain so tight your knuckles were white and mustered all your rage into what you hoped was the angriest glare he’d ever seen in his life and thrust your head out from behind the curtain. “Uvhash! What the fuck are you doing?!”

The creature in question stretched his long arms, his joints moving against each other, pulled by invisble muscle and you absently wondered if he was like one of those deep sea fish that have see through organs- or if he even has other organs beyond that ominous heart. “I just wanted to spend time with you.” He shrugged, as if this was normal and an invasive and terrifying progression of his behavior.

“You- “spend time” with me by stalking me while I shower?”

“Is that wrong?”

Strangling, murder, disembowelment, decapitation, throwing a shower brush at him...Yeah, none of those will work. He would find all of those equally amusing and would leave you a bloody mess and still living Uvhash on your bathroom floor. Why do you have to deal with this again? What did you to deserve this? Whatever, take a deep breath and get him out.

“Uvhash.” You say in your sweetest voice straining with rage. “Please leave the bathroom.”

The corners of lips sink from a contented smile into a scowl, his eyes sharpening in protest at your apparently unreasonable request. “Wh-”

“Now.”

His shoulders heave in a sigh before he gathers his limbs and stands up, reluctantly turning to the door and giving you one last look- which you return with a glare and an aggressive point at the door- before exiting. Leaving in you privacy, finally. Hopefully.

You rush to dry yourself off, praying that he’s taken a hint and left your dorm entirely, and tightly wrap your towel around yourself. You wipe the steam off your mirror and stare at yourself. You thought back to your graduation; your tombstone sitting quietly, waiting patiently for your coffin to one day come be buried and stand as testament to your fight- one that would join thousands of others in the past and future in your sacrafice to try and erradicate the Dissolution that threatened to devour humanity.

Then, you thought of Uvhash; a golem created thousands of years ago for the purpose of bloodshed, never before having experienced human joys and whims- his memories only contain of boring days and nights spent in an arena, chained to his master where his happiest memories were ripping someone apart. You thought of his yellow eyes and the gaping hole in his chest that proudly displayed his heart, one of the most vital organs for a human, out in the open with seemingly no protection. He'd let you get close enough you could reach out and grab it, feel it beat in your palm, but maybe you shouldn't have even stood within arms reah of him, because he seemed to take it as invitation of sorts.

You didn't blame him, per se- not after having seen the moments before his first death- but still, the "gifts" he left at your window and doorstep have become increasingly concerning. At first it was little things like mice and birds, you didn't appreciate them and you told him that many times, but he never seemed to understand, or ignored you entirely. Then, it started being things like finger bones and teeth, at first they were old an ancient, and then they started having bits of rotted flesh and blood still on them.

You started wondering if he would ever leave a body at your door, or maybe you're just crazy. That would make you two a perfect pair, wouldn't it? A thousand year old, blood-loving golem and his human companion who has long since lost their mind due to his antics.

You really wish he would take to human courting customs.

Enough of that, you still have the issue of changing. If only you hadn't left your PJ's out in your room. Why didn’t you bring your pajamas in here with you? Why did you have to leave them out in your room? Then again, you weren’t expecting someone to break in. Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your hand around the cold, metal door knob and opened it.

For a moment, you didn’t notice anything. There was the one lamp you had turned on by the door, illuminating part of your room with warm, yellow light, fending off the shadows that lurked in the corners of your mind, and providing some much needed comfort. Your pajamas were resting on the otomen just a few steps away and Uvhash was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe he really did leave. You turn off the bathroom light and delicately step onto the plush carpet to your pajamas, one step, two steps, three steps and your pajamas are right in front of you.

“Are you changing?” Long, white hair falls into your vision as he reaches over to thumb the thin fabric. “It’s soft.” He says curiosuly and picks up the pajama shirt like he's going to inspect it further.

You shudder and snatch the shirt out of his hand, just barely keeping yourself from screaming again. “Can you please-”

“Fine, fine, I’ll turn around. You humans are always so sensitive.”

You bite your lip, some unspeakable emotion roiling in your stomach. You glance behind you, his long white hair covering his back and pooling around his feet like snow. You know Uvhash isn't stupid, despite the opinions others may have because of his more animalistic behavior, and you also know he isn't very familiar with modern human customs- or, human anything beyond what their bodies are made of- but something about this, about what he just said, about his sudden understanding of your want of privacy rubbed you the wrong way. Like maybe he was perfectly aware that hiding in your room like this wasn't acceptable.

"Could you…" He perks up slightly at your voice, invisble muscle shifting benath his transluscent skin. "Could you leave, actually?"

You eye your desk where the case of your key sits quietly, awaiting to be take n on a mission again and a reminder of every Awakener you've met and connected with.

"Going to use that thing again?" There's another shift, one you can't see, but you can feel. The air feels dense, it sits on your skin like a weight, there's a warning in the slight turn of his head, in the stillness of figure.

You bit your lip and slowly, silently, and uncomfortably slip the towel off and put on the silky pajamas. The cool fabric providing little comfort to you as you were accutely reminded of the being behind you.

“Okay.” You mumble, picking up the towel. You toss the towel into the hamper and hesitate for a moment before you reluctantly turn to the golem who is, predictably, watching you again.

"Um," You gesture at nothing, to his indifference. "Do you need something?"

He does nothing for a moment, and then his lips curl into a smile. "No."

You take a breath and nod, not sure what to do or what he wants. You could maybe call Ramona, or Doll, but you'd need to get the communicator first, and then you'd need to turn it on, and then one of them would need to actually pick up at this hour.

You scratch your head roughly. "So, why are you here?"

"I want to spend time with you."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Will you leave once you've done that?"

He considers for a moment, his eyes still never leaving your figure. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" You groan and rub your face before deciding to give up and walk over to your vanity to start your skin care routine and hopefully by then, he'd leave and if not, there is the emergency rope by your bed.

You watch Uvhash come up behind you as you shuffle in your seat, his golden eyes meeting yours in the mirror before moving down to your hands with mild interest. “Lotion?” He scrunches up his nose.

“Yes, Uvhash, do you have opinions on it?” You shoot a glare at him through the mirror, which he misses by a fraction of a second.

“You don’t need that stuff.” He blows a puff of air through his nose.

You ignore him and gather some of it on your fingers and bring it up to your face, but before it could touch your skin, his long, sharp fingers wrap around your wrist and pull it away as he leans in, his voice rumbling against your neck. “I said you don’t need it, it ruins your scent.”

You yank at your hand, trying to pry it out of his iron clad grip. "My scent? I don't care about that! That's not what it's for!"

Maybe he pulled you, or maybe you lost your balance, but either way your back hit his chest and his face was in full view. He doesn't have whites in his eyes, he has red, and sometimes it truly gives him the appearence of a demon. He stares at you for a long, long moment before you feel a finger trace over your jaw and his thumbs absently brush your lips and his voice came in a whisper. "I prefer you like this."

You stare at him in a stupor as his other hand slowly wraps around your throat, tilting your jaw up just enough for his lips to brush over your neck, his hot breath burning your skin as he licks a strip on your skin. He watches you in the mirror as he pushes you forward and your palms press flat against the vanity and he opens his mouth, unusually sharp canines pushing against your skin.

Every other sense seems to dull as more pressure coalesces into two points on your neck, the skin stretching, unwilling to break beneath his teeth and then, with one, small push, the tension breaks and his teeth sink into your flesh and you ease a sigh, relaxing into his grip as his teeth disappear in a budding stream of red that flows down your neck and chest, blossoming on your silken pajamas like spider lilies.

His white hair falls over your shoulders and cloaks over the two of you as your knees tremble and he curls over your slowly sinking figure, letting go of your wrist to instead hold your waist. You can feel his grin against your skin and see the glint in his eye as he watches you in the mirror, like a hunter watching the fawn he’s been wanting finally caught in his trap.

You can feel the heart in his chest beat against you as he pushes his teeth in deeper, drawing more streams of blood as his hand slips under your shirt and cradles a breast, his sharp nails digging in your skin, his hips pressed flush against your ass as a low groan reverberates in his throat.

He'd always said how much he wanted to taste your blood, but in a way it felt too ridiculous to take seriously in spite of his history. After all, this was the campus of Mythag University, plenty of Keepers and Awakeners were here- aside from your graduation day- this place was safe.

Now, as you watch him lick and suck at the freshly made puncture wounds and how you inexpicably find yourself leaning into it, beckoning him to continue with soft sighs and barely concealed little moans, you know you were wrong.

This place isn't a safe haven from harm, and it's not free from beastly whims, but maybe- you shudder as he leaves your neck and his hands slide down- maybe that's alright.

Just for one night.

[rapha-reads]

IWTV rewatch

(from paper to screen, the comparative study continues... Back at it again)

Season 1 episode 4 [The Ruthless Pursuit of Blood With All a Child's Demanding] - part 1/2

- Oh, the sun! Hello, the sun. You're not a familiar presence here.

- Eyyy, we're opening with another Armandaniel scene. I mean, that Rashid guy and our Danny boy. "Mr de Pointe du Lac will be resting today" - Armand what does that meaaaaan. Armand giving Daniel Claudia's diaries. Oof. Are we ready for the paiiiiin.

- Shout out to the props department because those diaries are so pretty.

- Shout out to Bailey, I adore her voice.

- [Lestat] "'You were ready to abandon our home, and now you want a third.' [Louis] 'I just need her not to die. Please.'" - you know, there are hospitals. Yeah, skin grafts are not a thing in 1917, but the hospitals can still help her... She is not your penance.

Fascinating the way the scene completely changes tone and atmosphere in Lestat's recollection. Though, which one is the most real... Memory is a beast. But Louis remembers it as something quite romantic in a way, life blossoming out of darkness. Meanwhile, for Lestat, Claudia's rebirth is mired in desperation, anguish and Louis' loss of control. And the way Claudia writes it, well, she never had a say in it, didn't she? She was ready to die, she welcomed death. And then she was pulled back from it and thrust into a new life, and like she says, "I decided to make the best of it".

- [Louis] "'It's a special trick only folks like us have, like the nails and the teeth.' [Claudia] 'So you can hear me, but he can't? That make him the dumb one?'" - oooh, ouch. Right from the beginning, it's Louis and Claudia, and then Lestat left behind. You can hear the abandonment issues making themselves louder.

[Lestat] "'I'll teach you, just like I taught Louis here. But not if we're going to have family secrets.' [Claudia] 'We're a family?' [Louis] 'Yeah, but with no secrets.'" - points afforded for trying. Also, the different roles are already made: Lestat teaches how to be a vampire, Louis upholds humanity and family values. And Claudia is an excellent student...

Love how she immediately calls them "Daddy Lou" and "Uncle Les".

- [Louis] "Looks like she take after me" - aw, Lou, baby. You couldn't be more wrong.

That first hunt is interesting. First the way they talk about Claudia's outfit - she's a doll to them. It's all about how they can mold her, how they can make her into a reflection of themselves, and which one will have more influence, will be more represented in her. What she wants, who she is, barely even enters into consideration.

Secondly, there's the speed with which Claudia adapts to hunting. The way she lures the policeman by humming, playing the lost little girl, that's not something she was taught, that's something she's learned to do herself, naturally, instinctively.

- [Lestat] "An ominous observation, her young lady metabolism is permanent now" - nooo, you don't say? At least Lestat is aware. Welcome to eternal teenagehood. What a hell.

[Lestat] "'Histrionics.' [Louis] 'Some sleep is what she needs.' [Lestat] 'Sedation is what she needs.' [Louis] 'She'll settle.'"

Let me die of laughter first, that banter is perfect. Total old married couple vibes. Now. Looove how they're here talking about Claudia while not even paying attention to her. They're in their bubble, remodelling their family life as if their third member didn't have their own agency and free will, as if they could control and predict how she'll act, and meanwhile Claudia's like "sayonara dummies, I'm starving and I've got all the power to help myself, don't need you". And ain't that gonna be the heart of the matter, control versus freedom, life as a unit versus individual agency.

- Really love the way they show Claudia's... Is it madness? Is it the chaos of teenage hormones being brought to a hundred by vampirism? In any case, she is all over the place at the beginning. Eating human food and repainting the walls with it, playing with the sun's fire...

- [Louis] "'The sun comes up, we go down. That's never gonna change. We've got rules, Lil Miss.' [Claudia] 'Rules are for fools, Daddy Lou.' [Louis] 'Keeping you safe, little waif.'" - excellent back and forth, top notch, rhymes comprised. Nothing to say.

- [Lestat] "'She talked to the book again. Why do you talk to the book?' [Claudia] 'The book is my friend!' [Louis] 'The book is her friend.' [Lestat] 'The book is a book.'" - parent 1 being completely befuddled by their child, parent 2 being overly indulgent with that same befuddling child and patiently telling their partner "there there. She'll make sense to you one day".

- The fight in French, lmao, I'm wheezing. But aside from the humor of the scene, there's the important, deeper part too: Claudia asking questions, as all teenagers do, and Lestat refusing to answer. Lestat's refusal to tell either Louis or Claudia his history is another one of those extremely crucial point at the centre of the conflict.

- The coffin scene, how Louis gets seriously into the roleplay (I see your kinks, Lou), and when Claudia doesn't play along and the guy gets suspicious, how he knows immediately what Lestat's about to do, without even looking at him.

- "A girl vampire needs her own space if she's gonna find herself in this no-day world. And diary, you can already tell, the words come easier when you're locked in tight, wrapped in pink satin and Daddy Lou's feet ain't in your face. It's just me, my pen, my brain, my heart and the blood of the street car conductor I drained after he got off work. Thank you, street car driver. I hope they got more of you at your company to fill in for you. It's never great waiting for the car, especially when the weather gets hot."

She's just like me fr fr. Joke aside, round of applause for Bailey's narration, and another for the writers. There's something so innocent still in this Claudia, something pure and untouched - despite the great ease and joy she has in killing and feeding. Like a baby bird...

And then spying on her parents getting it on, but also, aaaaw, soft Loustat scene. What halcyon days.

- [Louis] "Sometimes, old people don't like talkin' much about the past. Sometimes, you gotta be careful where you dig, you understand." - what kills me here is Louis' understanding. He's fine with Lestat not telling him where he's from or who turned him. He's aware Lestat's already old, and may not want to revisit painful memories, just like he himself doesn't want to revisit Paul's death or his human family rejecting him.

Now the thing is, in the book, Lestat arrives in NOLA barely 30 human years old and 11 in the Blood, with his very human and very old and very sick biological father. So this Lestat and this Louis are starting more or less from an equal point, both starting this journey as vampires more or less together - yes, Lestat has 10 more years of being a vampire plus old secrets that are not his to divulge, and two other fledglings, one who goes insane and dies, the other one who wants nothing to do with humanity and prefer the wilderness. Louis is his first real companion, in a sense. The first who chose to come with him - Gabrielle he brought because she was dying, Nicki because it was the only way to protect him from Armand's coven. Louis, he brought him in because he chose him and Louis said yes, and Louis does stay with him willingly and lovingly - at least for a while. While they were both still regaining some equilibrium. Before the lack of answers, the lack of total trust, and their respective issues and trauma reared their heads, and then Claudia happened.

But here, Lestat has a century of advance on Louis. He has a whole history. And Louis is aware of this history, even if he doesn't know the details, and he doesn't feel like pushing. He wants to keep the peace. Alas they still have the same lack of trust, communication and the same issues to deal with.

- [Claudia] "'How does it work, love between two men?' [Louis] 'I don't know. Works like... It works like love.'" - I need an edit of s1 Claudia asking that and s2 Claudia going "now I know what two fat cocks etc". And character development! Louis is fully alright with his sexuality now. AND it is love, that's literally him admitting it.

- MUSLIM ARMAND YES PLEASE. Hi Rolin Jones please, pleaaaaase confirm Muslim Armand in season 3 pleaaaaaase I'm begging on my knees.

[Rashid/Armand] "'Do you have what you need, Mr Molloy?' [Daniel] 'A cure for Parkinson's?'" - careful what you wish for, Danny. He might take you up on that a bit too literally.

[Daniel] "For a killing machine, I kinda like her." - yeah, me too.

[Rashid/Armand] "Dubai is a child, Mr Molloy. No one's a native." - little nod to book Armand, that, Daniel pinpointing Kazakhstan or Crimea as his origins. And interesting little insight into the mind of a 500yo guy. He's seen empires rise and fall, ancient cities levelled down... What is Dubai for him but a mere second of existence?

- "Daddy Lou, when am I gonna grow into this? [...] Kill, spend. Kill, spend. Then the next thing you know, the leaves are turnin'." - that scene is fascinating. Not just Claudia starting to realise she'll never change and also be a little girl, but also, the visual itself. Lestat and Louis sharing a dance, lost in each other, in their own little world, and Claudia standing in the corner, isolated, alone, lost staring in the fire. That speaks for itself.

And the Lioncourt domestic family life carries on undisturbed... For now.

episode 1 | episode 2 | episode 3 | part 2 | episode 5 | episode 6 | episode 7

[ladystarksneedle]

Of ladies and birds

(Helaena’s pov)

A/N: For @starstrucksnowing thank you so much for reaching out to me with this idea💞 I hope you like what I've done with it.

Thank you all for reading! Please do refer to this post as this little drabble is connected to it.

Word count: 712

It is a cloudy day when they're informed, at breakfast. Mother sits with her hands still clasped in prayer, telling them how their father wishes to see them. It is more of a summon than a request. It is no secret that he isn't well. She doesn't remember a time when he's ever been healthy, but his ailments have worsened considerably over the past few years. He's lost an eye now with half of his face covered in salves and bandages. She'd been to see him once before, when the loss was fresh. Her mother had applauded her for her kindness and the care she'd shown him, however it was mere curiosity and partial spite that had led her to his chambers. Covered in a fog of incense and dust, with his model of Old Valyria looming ominously, she'd glanced upon his face trying to hide her shock. He looked pitiful, a man on the precipice of death. Skin blackened, with protruding bones and labored grunts of pain interrupting the hollow heaves of his chest. She'd held his hand for a moment, only to get closer before leaving just as swiftly.

"Rhaenyra?"

Her sister had found her way to him even near death. Perhaps memories lingered in places even the gods couldn't reach. 

She finds herself at his doorstep again now, her brothers in tow. She's decided to leave the children behind, despite mother's insistence, his face will only serve to scare them. The royal apartments are the same as before, with the curtains pulled shut and a flurry of maesters at work. They bow as they reach him with Ser Criston closing the door behind. He's opted to stay indoors, she notices, looking back. Her mother's hands on the King's face give her reason enough. Fresh blood coats her fingers as she speaks to him in hushed tones informing him of their presence, wiping and adjusting his bandages. He grunts audibly and raises a bony finger beckoning them. Aegon bows his head looking anywhere but him. Aemond is the first to approach. He kneels beside her, enquiring about his health, monotonously reciting pleasantries, exactly as is expected of him. Mother tenses nearby as he speaks, yet smiles at him nevertheless. It is their turn to go next. Aegon shuffles behind her as she goes to sit beside him, gazing at him with pity and distaste. He yearns for him still, yet his presence only serves to deepen the wound he's inflicted upon them all. 

"Helaena", he croaks surprisingly. "How are you my butterfly?"

"I am well, father. As are the children."

"That is good. Very good. Your mother tells me they are growing well, yes."

"They are, father. They've begun to babble now."

"That is good. Good."

She looks at her mother imploringly, wishing to leave.

"And what have they said, hmm. A child's first words are a true delight."

"Lady and bird "

He looks at her now, his eye widening a fraction. 

"Those are, interesting words to use"

"They're very attentive. They've been watching me embroider a ladybird for a while, a present rather. Perhaps that they caught on to it out of curiosity."

"How curious indeed, and who" he stutters, "Who was the recipient of this delightful present "

"Ser Criston of course."

She hears shuffling behind her followed by an urgent cough. Her mother wrings her hands anxiously. Aemond and Aegon look at her wide eyed, suppressing their smirks.

"Indeed" her father croaks pitifully, extending his hand towards her. "You are very kind, my child, a most comely princess, caring for all our subjects."

"Ser Criston is hardly a subject father" she says tilting her head towards him.

"I think it is best we let the King rest my loves, we have kept him long enough." 

"That would be wise your grace," Maester Orwyle chimes in hurriedly, behind her.

As they rise together to leave, she glances back at him being tucked in apprehensively by their mother. Ser Criston gives her a subtle nod as she crosses the threshold.

"Perhaps you'd like to take that walk in the gardens today princess, I've heard it's a good day to spot a ladybird."

She beams up at him and nods. The incense lingers on.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond

[reallyromealone]

Uncanny Valley reader 5

Warning

Violence, nsfw, male reader, gang shit, fluff

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

After that date, (name) let Ran get closer.

Accepting lunch dates and dinner dates, Bonten grew envious of the interactions with (name).

"Go out with me" Koko said coolly to (name) who just looked bored at the interaction "I'm not interested" (name) said bluntly, walking past the white haired man to get to his meeting with Sanzu who requested information on the Triad.

"I will pay for the entire date, anything you want"

"I'm not some cheap whore you can woo with your riches Mr. Kokonoi" (name) was annoyed but kept walking as the Executive silently seethed.

(Name) knocked on the door to Sanzus office, entering when he heard a faint "enter", eyes locking with Sanzus intense mint eyes "hello Mr. Sanzu, shall we get to business?"

Sanzu kept things professional but did sneak a few glances at the man.

Mid meeting Mikey decided he wanted to watch, the blond sitting on the couch as the two went about business.

When the meeting ended (name) politely bowed to both with a smile only to be pinned to the door by Mikey who stared at him intensely, looking for any reaction only to receive that ominous smile in return.

The two kept eye contact as mikeys face was breaths away, both waiting for something to happen.

"Is everything alright Mr. Sano?" (Name) asked calmly and Mikey looked annoyed but just let him leave, the two men staring at (name) intensely as he left.

Ran was at (name)s apartment again, the cats now claiming him as their heater and Ran had learned all their names.

"Oh why hello you lot" Ran said to the cats, Sprinkles trying to get under his shirt as he liked sleeping under blankets and such "you're gonna stretch my shirt Sprinkles"

He got an annoyed meow in return but perked up when ran lifted the throw blanket for him, the small cat darting under the blanket happily.

"Your coworkers are being weird" (name) stated as he set down two drinks and some snacks, investing in more snacks for his now boyfriend.

"Hm? How so?" Ran asked as he watched (name) eat a snack "Koko tried to bribe me into going to dinner and Mikey pinned me to a wall while Sanzu watched" (name) was so casual about it and Ran had to do a double take at what he just heard.

He was aware that the other Bonten men had shown interest but this... Now Ran was annoyed.

"What did you do?"

"I rejected them and I stared back at Mikey, he's very strange"

That was ironic coming from (name) but Ran was pleased at his words, if his co-workers wanted (name), they would have to actually talk instead of this childish shit they were doing.

But he was pleased with how committed (name) was, not even giving it a passing thought.

"Would you be apposed to having almost a group like relationship?" Ran asked (name) who genuinely gave it some thought "I wouldn't hold my breath, I'm still confused on why you're interested in me" (name) said and ran pouted before pulling (name) closer, the broker wide eyed as he was put into Rans lap "yes?"

"Why must you question everything?" Ran asked as he gently manhandled (name) into straddling him "it's my job" (name) said passively as he rested his hands on Rans shoulders "well maybe think less in work mode and more off work mode"

"I...I don't understand"

"Have you ever relaxed? Just turned off your brain?"

"No?"

Ran knew (name) wouldn't be the easiest to have a relationship with but he was up for the challenge and besides;

Ran loved the fact that he was the first one to see these reactions.

To unlock more and more of him.

"Can I focus your brain to something I enjoy doing?"

(Name) looked confused but nodded, ran gently pulling his face closer and kissing (name) who reciprocated shyly, still new to kissing.

But ran could feel his eagerness in the kisses, obviously enjoying kissing the elder Haitani.

Ran gave the go ahead to play with his hair a while ago, (name) didn't think he would until now as his hands subconsciously began getting lost in his hair the deeper the kiss got, Ran slowly introducing his tongue.

His brain short circuited at the softest moan that escaped (name)s lips.

Ran pulled away to look at (name) who was slightly red faced but kept a pretty maintained expression "you look so cute" ran mumbled before going to kiss the brokers neck, determined to get more sounds from him.

His efforts weren't in vain as he nipped at a soft spot in his neck and (name) slightly jolted and moaned, covering his mouth in confusion.

Ran manhandled him to lay on his back and ran caged him with his own body "can I fuck you baby?" He asked gently rubbing his half hard cock against (name)s, (name)s eyebrows furrowing slightly before nodding, softly rubbing back much to Rans eager joy.

Ran lifted (name)s shirt over his head and gently began touching his waist, ready to devour.

Bzzzt

Bzzzt

Bzzzt

Ran sighed as his phone went off, leaning over to grab it as he freed (name)s cock from the others pants.

Ruin his sexy time?

Well prepare to hear (name) moan.

Today ran learned (name) was vocal as he stroked the brokers cock.

"W-wait!" This was most expression Ran thinks he will ever see, eyebrows furrowed as his hips buckled up into his hand as Ran answered the phone annoyed "where the fuck are you?!" Sanzu hissed out and Ran rolled his eyes "I'm busy" Ran said simply as he gave a particularly harsh tug and (name) gripped his wrist unsure what to do "you're fucking kidding me" Sanzu hissed and Ran grinned "yup, now what do you want? Or do you want a show?"

"You're late to a meeting"

"Shit"

Sanzu hung up and ran felt (name) cum in his hand "good boy" Ran chuckled before getting up "I gotta catch a meeting, be good yeah?"

"I-I must attend work as well" (name) was shaking slightly as he got up, the two sorting themselves out before exiting the apartment.

(Name) went back to deadpan but Ran had those cute expressions burned into his brain, maybe after the meeting he could continue.

Ran walked into the building casually, knowing the rest of Bonten were practically foaming from the mouth.

He avoiding a knife thrown at him from Kakucho "pleasure to see you men as well" Ran said cooly and the others glared (save for Rindō who didn't particularly care) "you fucker"

"What? I can't play with my b-o-y-f-r-i-e-n-d~" ran sang out boyfriend and the others glared "why does he choose you?!"

"I asked him out, why do you guys even care? Thought you guys thought he was unsettling" Ran said taking his seat "things changed" takeomi said, Mikey was annoyed that he didn't have the broker but was silent, staring off into nothing.

(Name) was walking down the street when he noticed in the reflection of a window, someone following him roughly ten feet away.

(Name) took sharp turns and went into crowds but the man still follower him, but he knew his city like the back of his hand and slipped into an alleyway and waited.

It didn't take long for the man to walk in, (name) crouching behind a trash can before popping behind him with a switchblade to his throat "you're a rookie" (name) said grabbing his head and bashing it into it into a wall, throwing him to the ground and beating the ever living shit out of him.

(Name) avoided any punches the other threw, the man holding a knife and swiping, slicing (name)s suit and managing to Knick his cheek before (name) kicked him in the head, hard enough to make him drop to the floor.

(Name) kicked him in the head hard enough to knock him out.

(Name) was a classy man, keeping himself clean as he kept a foot on the unconscious man's back as he pulled out his phone "hello? Yes I would like to file in that IOU" (name) said calmly, pulling his handkerchief to clean the blood.

(Name) hung up and dragged the man to the back of the alleyway.

Ran came as soon as he could, startled by the sight as Rindō drove the car in reverse so they could put the man in the trunk "stop fretting, I'm a grown man who can care for himself"

"Not gonna stop me princess" Ran teased and (name) dead stared him "I am cashing in my IOU, He was following me home, I don't know how much information he has but I don't want any risks"

"Want me to help you pack?"

"I will need to find a new apartment promptly"

"You can stay with me"

"I wouldn't want to inconvenience"

"It's no problem "

"Only till I get an apartment "

"Of course"

"Can you guys stop flirting before we attract attention"

[yanban-san]

The whack a mile analogy got me thinking, the twins go on a date at a carnival and for whatever reason the two get highly competitive. First as a friendly joke but then they get serious serious. Darling is just “Wow Ingo great aim!!!” and Ingo turns to Emmet with a smirk and Emmets smile tightens. When darling applauds because emmet is faster at whack a mole his smile is blindingly bright and smug and Ingos pulls his hat down “Because his light was leaking too much for their dearest, not because he didn’t want to see that smug face.”

The carnival was certainly amusing, they supposed. The twin demons didn't seem to be particularly interested in any one thing- The rides were, they supposed, enjoyable- To humans. Roller coasters and the strange rides that gently spun you in the air- Only served to give them future ideas. The entire time the three of you rode the roller coaster, Ingo's mind was consumed with thoughts of taking you through the air so gently in his claws- Resting you on clouds, perhaps- tumbling through the air with you in his embrace-! And although you did enjoy the rides, you were more enamored with the adorable mareeps and wooloos and furfrows at the petting zoo that had set up alongside the fair. Strangely most of the adorable pokemon grew tense when you approached- With your darling boyfriends on either side of you. "Isn't she adorable? Her wool is so soft!" You asked, gently squishing the soft, soft fur of the wooloo as it bleated happily in your embrace- It's eyes darted between the two imposing figures hovering over your shoulders.

"Yes. I suppose it is." Emmet bent down and reached his hand out to stroke the little creature- And the Wooloo snuggled into your embrace, away from the Station Master- Before realizing there was another Station Master who looked far more intimidating on the other side of you as well. Emmet's eyes fell in frustration, his smile betraying his annoyance and his- slight sadness. The majority of pokemon were skittish around them, for some reason. The wooloo didn't feel anything particularly bad from your beloved boyfriends, just- something wrong- Ominous. Ingo moved silently closer to you. Crouching down alongside you, hand on your back while you balanced yourself precariously on the balls of your feet. Emmet sighed, watching the interaction unfold.

You were no stranger to frightened pokemon- And you knew how intimidating the Subway Bosses could be! That was all. The pokemon were simply scared of them, that was all.

"Here, Emmet! Offer her some corn instead. She's probably frightened of you a little bit..." You turned to Ingo. "You too, Ingo- She's just a little intimidated, is all."

Emmet and Ingo both took small cups of the grain- And knew what the reaction of such a cute, small, and pathetically weak pokemon would be. It ran from the three of you, to the far side of the pen, where it stayed.

"She's probably just... jittery?" You sighed in frustration, pouting. Your poor boyfriends- Why were all the cute pokemon so terrified of them?

Ingo stared down at the lambs running around their pen. "Probably. Do not fret, Love. Most pokemon do not like our company."

Emmet leaned over your shoulder, a soft smile on his face. "Yes, do not worry, Darling. We are used to it. Please- Pet the sheep to your heart's content. Brother and I are just happy to watch you- To be with you."

You blushed at his sweet remark, Ingo suddenly bending over to place a kiss on your forehead in an unusual gesture- "Yes, dear. Please, enjoy yourself."

You bent down closer and gave another sheep a hug and smooch, eliciting a cute baa from it. Emmet's eyes didn't leave you- Studying the cute face you made. "She's so soft-!" You remarked, squishing the wool on the sheep- Certainly, Emmet thought, though not softer than him. Ingo kept his eyes over the crowd. He disliked large gatherings like this, out in broad daylight- Too many things prowling about, the heat too intense for your head- The way several humans had looked at you lecherously- It set off his possessiveness, tinged with nerves, and he caught himself several times trying to shield you, hide you away in the shadows of his coat- And perhaps a few degenerate people simply disappeared, like soap bubbles caught on the wind.

You continued to pet the sheep, unaware of your boyfriend's growing- and to them, at least slightly justified- paranoia. The soft expression you adopted, the smile you wore on your face- It stirred their hearts possessively. Ingo watched raptly as he leaned over to look at you- No, the wooloo, of course-!

Though, despite his best efforts... He couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"Daarling, I want to hug you." Emmet whined, his expression softening. You turned to face him, having let go of the sheep. "Of course,-" And before you could even finish the sentence or stand up, you were swept up in the arms of the Station Master- His teeth barred together in an aggressive smile as he pulled you into his embrace.

"Em-Emmet," You spoke, muffled into his chest-

"Emmet," Ingo began, giving his brother a glare- A warning glare, at that- Emmet's smile held too many teeth, his eyes flickering with the faintest glimmer of a light in his eyes-

Emmet smiled turned sheepish, letting you go with a hint of a mischievous laugh- And took your right hand in his, leaving your left free for his brother.

Hands locked with hands, your dear twin beloveds guided you through the rest of the petting zoo and back to the rest of the Castelian Carnival; Enjoying rides and eating delicious sweets- Emmet somehow devoured a massive, deluxe sized cotton candy on his own, and Ingo tried to only pick at yours- looking at it longingly from time to time as the sugar dissolved in his mouth.

It was strange, you noted- When they took your hands, how no one seemed to notice you or them, or commented on the fact that the legendary Bosses of the Unovan Transit System were glued to your sides, holding your hands and watching you intently- Stealing every sort of little kiss and touch they could from you, their darling little sweetheart! It was enough to make you blush that they were so forward in public, but they assuaged you- Promising you, strangely, that not to worry- No one would notice you with them, so please- Just let them hold you, let them touch you-! It barely registered to you that such a thing should not have been promisable in the first place; Or would it? You'd stop to think about it only for Ingo to suddenly pull you in for a light kiss, or Emmet would squeeze you against him tightly- And what else was there to think about aside from the sudden thudding of your heart and the warmth spreading across your whole form as you blushed at their ministrations?

And then came games. You were, at first, not terribly interested in them- You knew how carny games were so often rigged against the player, seeming so easy yet in actuality, much of it came down to luck and chance, rather than any sort of skill.

This, of course, naturally infuriated your darling boyfriends when you informed them of why you weren't particularly eager to play- So they asked you, please, to try one- A cute Gible plushie would be your reward for a simple ball toss game-! If you could win. Finally, you relented.

You chucked a ball half-heartedly towards the center goal-

Only for it to bounce perfectly into your chosen target.

You blinked in amazement. Ingo clapped behind you. "Bravo! If you can do that just a few more times, Love- The little Dragon fluff will be yours!"

You smiled at your love's enthusiasm, though certainly- this was just another one of your strange bouts of good luck you had, right?

And the next ball hit the target.

And the next one did.

The carney watched wide-eyed and amazed that you managed to get four of the five balls dead center- Surely the fifth one would miss...? That Gible plushie was expensive.

The carney gave you your fifth ball- Rough and knicked up and springy and sure to fall far off course and leave you with the taste of a victory-turned-defeat in your mouth- At the very least, he could probably drag a few more games out of you and your companions. You would get so close, why not try again-?

You turned the ball round in your hand, Emmet and Ingo eying it with a glint- Such a vile way of tricking you, they felt. Trickery was only for making your life easier- Not for making it more difficult. And the two watched it as you went to pitch it- Actually putting effort into it, your face contorted in concentration and betraying just how much effort you were putting into acquiring the prize.

And you threw it, watching it fly-

On course! Landing firmly in the center target, making a loud clop as the target spot lit up in congratulations. The carney's smile was strained in annoyance- You didn't have any pokemon with you, so he couldn't even blame it on a psychic type intervening...

Emmet and Ingo both clapped behind you. "Verry good, Darling!" "Bravo!" You smiled at them bashfully, the carney's expression turning to annoyance as the three of you walked off with his best top-shelf prize.

You were a little more than amazed yourself- Walking away proudly with the life-size plushie of the Sinnohin Dragon under your arm- Your two boyfriends asking over and over if you did not need them to carry it for you? You cuddled it annoyingly, and it occupied both of your arms.

Maybe they should not have let you won it so easily-

"Is there anything else that catches your interest, Darling?" Emmet asked, leaning over your shoulder-

You looked over several of the other game stands. Most offered plushes, toys- Nothing too fancy, but entertaining for children, at least.

Until-

You saw the Whack-a-Patrat stand had an absolutely gorgeous Gracidea pin on display in a glass case- On the top prize shelf-

For a dual contest. Both contestants had to score a certain amount of points, and then it would go to whoever got more points.

You stared at the beautiful flower pin- Even if flowers weren't normally your thing, this was beautiful. Crafted from fine cut glass, elegant barely began to describe it. "Crafted by an artisan from the Lostlorn forest, dontcha know." The carney drawled in some heavy accent- Solaceon, perhaps?

Emmet and Ingo exchanged glances; A shared glint between their silver eyes. Ingo paid for the round, chucking a mallet at Emmet, who caught it forcefully. "Shall we, brother?" He asked, maintaining his perfect-as-ever posture. His eyes settled on you for a moment as he adjusted his hat. "Do not worry, Love. If that pin is what you want, then you will have it."

You blushed at your boyfriends endearing proclamation- Not that you expected them to win, or anything-

Until the round started.

Emmet moved first, smacking down patrat after patrat with marked aggression and speed-

"Wow, you're really fast, Emmet!"

Ingo's frown stiffened as Emmet smiled with swelling pride at your praise- All of the patrats had already been knocked down on his side.

"Ingo-wait, did you- Did you already... knock down them all?" You asked, waiting for the count-down timer to start the next round...

"Er, Yes-" He returned, fidgeting with the edge of his hat over his eyes-

"That's incredible!" You cheered- Staring up at him with your oh so beautiful eyes, sparkling so prettily in the sunlight-

"You two do your best!" You cheered to your boyfriends. The demons immediately took your words to heart. Which one of them could- Would be- The one to present you with that pretty gem that caught your eye?

Between the two of them it was difficult for you to keep up with their movements- Emmet moved so blindingly fast, his arms appearing like a white blur over the table- Ingo, on the other hand, moved just as fast but far more gracefully. The patrats descending as quickly as they arose on his side of the table, and the points counter steadily rose on both sides- Emmet's over Ingo's score, Ingo overtaking Emmet... A few people gathered to watch as the patrat whacking game increased in intensity- The Subway Bosses moving deftly and powerfully as they bashed in the heads of the squeaky toys quicker than they seemed to be capable of rising. The Carney was even scratching his head at one point, the score having risen to one of the highest he'd ever seen- Near a thousand points. Even competitive whack-a-patrat players- Would usually score around 800-900 points- And the pin's prize limit was somewhere between 600 and 700.

Their intensity only increased. Emmet's smile split aggressively, His jagged teeth digging into his lower set as he turned his eyes away for a brief second to glare at his brother- Why couldn't he just let him have this-! And-

Ding!

The timer went off, the patrats descended from being brutally thrashed, and Emmet and Ingo both looked up-

985 on Emmet's side, and-

984 on Ingo's.

"Of course I would beat you, brother- Hey, Ow!" You looked over to see Ingo had pulled Emmet's hat down over his brow- bopping him lightly on the head.

"It's not good to gloat after winning, brother." Ingo stated- The carney of course, offered him the pretty glass Gracidea pin- Which was presented to you happily as Emmet delicately placed it in your hair, gently running his hand through your hair.

"Verrrrrry pretty, Love. It looks verry nice in your hair."

You smiled happily, turning to flash the pin. "Thank you, Emmet," You squeaked in surprise as he pulled you close, planting a kiss on your head as his fingers combed through your hair obsessively. "Mm. You are verrry welcome, little Love."

Emmet stared happily- It certainly wasn't as pretty as his feather in your hair... and it didn't glitter like one of the jeweled gifts he'd gotten you before...

But you liked it. That was what was important- And you looked so bashful, letting him seat it in your hair.

You all headed away, leaving the crowd and carney still slightly amazed and confused at the sheer speed of the game that had just transpired. Though as you went to inspect a map, trying to determine where to go next- Ingo trailed behind you, and Emmet suddenly fell back as well- With you still engrossed in the map.

Emmet looked at his brother, his smile shortening on his face, becoming a tense, angry frown.

"Why did you do that?" He hissed.

Ingo looked over at his brother, still maintaining his perfect pose. "Why did I do what?"

Emmet pouted. "Oh, don't play such a game with me, Brother."

Ingo coughed into his hand. "Shiny things like that are better suited for you to give to her, brother."

"You let me win for that?"

"Is that a problem...?"

"You should show her more affection, Brother. You are too reserved."

Emmet continued on, stepping closer to his brother. "Pleeease, Brother? It would be good if you, as Miss Elesa has said, "loosened up" a little bit. Darling would be verrry happy if you did so."

Ingo blushed, looking over at you. Still staring at the map...

"It's- difficult, Emmet. I don't want-"

"You won't hurt her like this, Brother." Emmet smiled knowingly at Ingo. "I am scared too. I can tell you are as well. We watch out for each other, no? But even Darling could tell- That you let me win on purpose. I do not like a victory ill-gained."

Ingo scoffed. "So? You would never have beat me otherwise."

"Excuuse you, Brother. I could verrry much beat you anytime I want." "Oh please, you absolutely could not,"

"Yes I could."

"In what manner? You're far weaker than I am,"

"Am not. I would win in a brightness competition."

"That's completely different!"

"I'm also fluffier-"

"What's fluffy?"

The twins' bickering ceased immediately as they turned their attention to you, having walked back towards them after you'd noticed they weren't beside you anymore. You tilted your head quizzically.

"Ah- Eh-" Emmet stuttered-

"Er, ah- The Wooloos! That we- er- You, pet earlier. Those were quite fluffy." Ingo interjected.

"Ahhh, yes, they were, weren't they?"

You took a sip from your water bottle. "D'you guys want to go see them again? It's getting late, it might be a nice thing to do before we have to head back to Nimbasa..."

"Of course!" They answered in unison, and fell in step behind you.'

They could settle their argument later- For now, you all had some Wooloos to terrorize- Or well, for you to pet.

[carryingthebannershitposts]

Ride The Cyclone AU is winning so here's my old sketches :)

(I'm not giving up on Nightmare Before Newsies or anything, this is literally just for fun. In fact, go check the Nightmare Before Newsies blog because I posted some fun things)

The plot for the AU went something like this: during a fight for the strike, Jack David, Spot, Race, Crutchie and Les get crushed to death under a newspaper cart that was purposefully pushed on top of them by Oscar and Morris. They are then brought to some strange place, where an ominous robotic voice, who calls itself "The Amazing Karnak", begins telling them that they're gonna play a game- the group has to vote one person to come back to life, and the rest will perish.

Jack, being Jack, sings about Santa Fe for all of 30 seconds and proceeds to immediately concede. Racetrack sings a very depressing reprise of King Of New York and concedes soon after Jack. Neither David nor Spot are happy about this.

Spot's song would be a very interesting song set to the tune of Brooklyn's Here, but with the wit and pure ego that What The World Needs has. David's song would be a reprise of Truth Of The Moon, and afterwards he'd try to beg Jack to un-concede, which unsurprisingly doesn't work.

Les gets to sing a very cursed and surprisingly menacing crossover of the Watch What Happens Reprise and The Ballad Of Jane Doe, the first half of the song lamenting over 1. the loss of his fucking head and 2. how young he died, and the second half of the song swearing vengeance on the Delancey Brothers and The World as a whole for killing him and all the people he loves. (Seriously, imagine the second half of the Ballad Of Jane Doe but it's a child screaming "Watch What HAPPENS, LORD! THE WORLD WILL BURN TONIGHT, LORD! THEY'VE LEFT ME WITH NO FAMILY AND NO FRIENDS!") David is understandably horrified by this. Jack hypes Les up and encourages him to go back and murder people.

The vote comes down to David. David votes Les back after a very long speech, on the condition that he does NOT murder people.

Les may or may not keep that promise.

-

ON TO DA DRAWINGS

*Blinks at you with my tired ass I-stayed-up-all-night-to-draw-this eyes and hands you these*

A recent sketch of Les having his Jane Doe moment and shit because he was the one who got decapitated

(WARNING. BODY HORROR AND GLITCHING AND THINGS. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED)

.

.

.

David's long ass speech that he ripped off from Ocean O'Connell Rosenburg

Jack encouraging child murder and telling Les to scream insults at people

That's it :)

(PLEASE SOMEONE ASK ME FOR THE BALLAD OF JANE DOE / WATCH WHAT HAPPENS SONG MERGER THINGY CREATION'S LYRICS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-)

[littleclownopinions]

Why the Funtime Animatronics are terrifying

Content Warning: Mentions of child murder

My last post was a design analysis of Ballora in which I talked about all the reasons I find her so haunting. I had a lot of fun writing it and so I thought, why not do it for the rest of the Funtimes? Although I will be mentioning her, I wont be going into much detail, so if you want to check out the full post you can do so here. Otherwise, I want to take a look at each animatronic, going over their aesthetic design as well as their blueprints, voice lines and gameplay mechanics to explain why I love them and maybe share some theories too. I will be annotating the blueprints as I understand the small text could be hard to read. So, without further ado, let's get into it!

Funtime Foxy

"A performance was demanded of me, and now I have delivered! Encore!"

Keeping in mind the whole Circus theme, I think Foxy most closely resembles a Ringmaster. The shape of his torso, the red in his bowtie and the loud booming voice we hear in UCN sells that for me. I think my favourite thing about this iteration of Foxy is how alive he looks. It's not everyday we get a Foxy that is so shiny and new! Now, Funtime Foxy's blueprints are pretty easy to understand but there are two interesting things to note. The first is that section D directs the reader to "Circus Baby dir07" meaning the remote activation of his floor anchor is controlled by her. The second is his size, he is the shortest and the lightest of the four. All in all, Funtime Foxy isn't the most intimidating of the bunch, I'd say despite the sharp teeth he actually looks quite cute and friendly. However, there's a reason for that. Funtime Foxy wasn't made to kill, he was made to lure. He, like Ballora, was created to help keep guests entertained to distract them away from Funtime Freddy and/or Circus Baby, the two animatronics big enough to store the bodies of the victims, the two designed to kill. Although Funtime Foxy doesn't speak in SL, his UCN voice lines all relate to him performing. His UCN gameplay also sees the player keeping track of showtime, the player being jump scared if they aren't watching his stage once the time ticks over. Again, Funtime Foxy is an entertainer, luring guests to his stage to keep attention away from Circus Baby and Funtime Freddy when their.. other services are needed.

Funtime Freddy

"Bon-Bon, Say hi to our friends!"

Again with the Circus theme, I think Funtime Freddy resembles a Magician. He has the black bowtie, the top hat and he even has a little bunny friend, Bon-Bon! Although, I don't think Freddy can pull him out of his hat.. Honestly, I think he is kind of adorable, especially with his little hand puppet Bon-Bon at his side, but his blueprints are where things start to get more ominous. Ignoring the glaringly obvious child body inside Freddy's stomach, each section gives us something pretty intriguing. Bon-Bon allows him to essentially have eyes on the back of his head, while he himself can mimic voices and keep track of how close his victim is. As mentioned above, I think Funtime Freddy is one of the two killer animatronics, alongside Circus Baby. However, Funtime Freddy raises some questions. Why is he significantly smaller than Circus Baby? Does he have the same claw inside his stomach? Well, I believe that he probably does have the same claw, but because he doesn't need space for the internal ice cream dispenser or the air hose attachment like Circus Baby has, he has no need to be as big. Afterall, he has Bon-Bon and his voice mimicking feature to lure kids in! If you yourself have a different theory, please feel free to let me know!

Circus Baby

"You won't die, but you'll wish you could."

Everybody's favourite little (huge) Jester, Circus Baby, isn't really one that needs much explanation from me. We all know what she looks like and we all know what she's capable of. Despite her blueprints wanting you to believe she is totally innocent, her voice lines and minigame tell us a different story. What I want to explore is why she was designed to look like a Jester. For those who aren't aware, Jester's privilege is the ability and right of a Jester to talk and mock freely without being punished. In a way, Jesters were free to question and mock the King because of this privilege. We know Circus Baby was modelled after Elizabeth Afton, but maybe she was also designed as a Jester to signify Elizabeth's place beside her father, William Afton, and how she would often disobey (question/mock) her father's orders, the way she did when Circus Baby killed her. Her being the tallest, most powerful animatronic and having remote control over functions inside Funtime Foxy and Ballora also serves to remind us how important she is. Just food for thought. Anyway, I love Circus Baby because I think her lore is incredibly interesting, but I also simply love her design. She was so unlike anything we'd ever seen before in the franchise and she really breathed new life into the story.

Overall, I think the Funtimes are really fascinating because they were so unlike anything that came before them. The idea of Circus Baby's Pizza World was so different and this was the first time we saw animatronics that were undeniably created for the purpose of killing. By the time of Pizzeria Simulator we also found out about the scooper being used to experiment with Remnant. Sister Location is, to this day, one of my favourite FNAF games and I will never forget the feeling I got watching the opening cutscene, seeing the secret ending to Circus Baby's minigame or even seeing Ennard through the Scooping Room window. I am really excited to see what comes from the upcoming release of Five Nights at Freddy's: Help Wanted 2 and I can't wait to write more design analysis posts and theories of some of my other favourites from across the franchise!

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Monsters - Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

...................................

Author's Note

The small group goes on a trip and finds something completely different from what they expected.

Hello!

I'm back with Chapter 13! Now I have a couple of Trigger Warnings: Death, corpses (and their detailed description), blood, gore, and violence.

Have fun! :D

I.M.L. – Infected Mammal Lifeform I.H.L. – Infected Humanoid Lifeform

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Thirteen

..........................................

The wild, overgrown abundance of the forest glides by like blurred spots next to the car, and although I haven't had a positive experience with nature until now, for once it's not the potential danger behind the trees and bushes that occupies my mind the most. The wind blows in my face through the rolled-down window, and as the characteristic smell of wet plants fills my nose, the apparent calmness of the situation lulls me into a false sense of security. The orange zone is a bag full of risks in itself, but Alejandro's predictions seem to have come true so far, because not a single mutant bastard has attempted to divert our small team, which is moving unstoppably towards its destination. But the deeper we venture on the broken concrete road into the heart of the wilderness, the more convinced I am that this eerie peace and uneventfulness will eventually backfire. And it's true that I was always cautious, and I believed that it was better to be paranoid than to get my ass kicked, but the sinister suspicion that had nestled itself deep inside of me is much more than that. Because it makes me feel like we're heading toward certain chaos, even though our plan seems bulletproof and ridiculously simple. I've already seen how life can wreck a detailed, masterful concept, and I can't get rid of the thought that fucking karma would love to show me again what tricks it can do if it wants to surprise me.

And it seems that I'm not the only one who racks their brains on this ominous intuition, because my two companions traveling with me exude everything other than casual calmness. From the rear-view mirror of the car, I can clearly see the unflinching expression on MacTavish's face, and only the line of his jaw tensing for a moment tells me that he would like to get right into the thick of it and show off his unique interrogation techniques. And although Riley, sharing the back seat with me, has assumed his usual steely confidence, his dark eyes scan every square centimeter of the landscape that appears through the windshield with such intensity, as if he would expect something absolutely terrible to appear in every second. His fear is well-founded, because we could easily come into close physical contact with a mutant here, but I suspect he isn't distressed by the forest and the beasts hidden in it, but rather by the research institute resting on the mountainside. And probably the concerns I expressed during our little moment on the roof last night also helped him to become so tense now. I should be happy that my opinion has such a big influence on him, now that we have finally overcome the differences between the two of us, if possible permanently, but his grim aura only gives my nerves one more reason to strain towards snapping.

"Five minutes and we'll reach the gate." Alejandro's voice filters through the radio and I automatically turn my gaze to the vehicle in front of us, where he and his faithful right-hand man are travelling, leading the way through the maze of nature like the real hosts they are. He nobly undertook this task without allowing any objections, and although I originally had no desire to argue with him being our tour guide, but in the last hour that we have spent here in the jungle  behind god's back, I already know that we wouldn't have had a chance to reach our goal in any other line-up. Because even though the road, which has been damaged over the years and is full of potholes, indeed leads somewhere, it splits into side roads in such a confusing way that it is quite amazing. And this, as well as the fact that the environment exudes a progressively unfriendly atmosphere with each passing meter, only confirms the fact that Alviar is truly stirring up the kind of shit, that needs a dozen life-threatening and cunning diversions to cover its smell.

My two companions only acknowledge the information with a wordless nod, our driver is the one who mumbles a quick "Copy" and then fixes his eyes on our battered path with unbroken attention. And the fact that MacTavish, who is always up for a clever comment, is also silenced by the operation before us, could even be disturbing, if the seriousness that possessed him wouldn't be fully justified. Perhaps the rather complicated chain of developments and the promise of an increasingly worse outcome has entered into the mind of a man as well, therefore it's not surprising that he is buzzing with tense energy ready to jump into action, so that he can finally relieve the helpless tension that has accumulated in him until now. This pressure has been building up in him since our nice adventure in the city, and I have a feeling that he won't try to moderate his temper if he has even the smallest chance to unleash it on the modest person of the doc. And that bastard will undoubtedly deserve it if even one of my hypotheses is confirmed.

Suddenly, the car in front of us begins to slow down, and as we adjust to this, we reduce our already cautious speed, and I raise my curious eyes towards the gate slowly emerging through the windshield. And the closer we get, the clearer it becomes that the doc didn't leave the guarding of his threshold to chance, because although the wild greenery skillfully hides the line of the several-meter-high fence stretching between the trees, it would be impossible not to notice the behemoth made of solid metal that rises towards the sky at the end of the worn road. Although a venturous mutant would have no problem climbing over it based on its height alone, even though the whole shebang seems to be at least five meters high, the barbed wire on top of the monstrosity would certainly discourage the hungry beasts from being nosy. And when our vehiches halts at the end of our nice little journey, my nose is hit by the characteristic burnt metallic smell, which makes it quite obvious that my colleague really wanted to show off his sophistication with the first line of his defense, and he made sure to give a shocking experience to those who stray too close to the barrier infused with high-voltage that disappears between the trees. So fucking sly.

The movement coming from the vehicle in front of us disturbs me from my observations, and only a hand appears from behind the rolled-down window to firmly hold up the hologram of the verification document emerging from the communicator towards the camera cleverly hidden on the top of the gate. However, it seems that there may have been an error in the calculation, because when after a few minutes there is no reaction to the introduction, the car door bursts open with angry vehemence, and Alejandro jumps out, stomping closer with visible irritation to signal with his whole being that an important visitor has ventured to the doorstep of this godforsaken hole. He waves his hand towards the wretched camera with growing annoyence, but despite all his efforts and fervor, the gate remains closed with immovable calm, which makes my confusion grow stronger with ever-increasing enthusiasm. It's one thing that the doctor doesn't want to have unexpected and especially unwanted guests, but he must also know that if he doesn't work together with us, my Hunter friends have a couple of brutal ideas on how to convince him to be more cooperative. Not to mention that the head of an institution must be familiar with the intricate maze of the current regulations, especially if he wants to avoid them, so he must also know that if he doesn't let in our small team that came here because of the violation of said rules, then the law and fate will catch up with such force that he will never have a chance to get himself out from that sea of shit.

"What's the problem?" The masked Hunter sitting next to me finally gets bored with the wait, and calls out through the rolled-down window to the man who is slowly engaging in an elaborate pantomime show. And it's enough for me to take a quick glance at Riley to assess how every fiber of his being fills with the first wave of impatient temper, and how his body moves forward, like a big cat who at this very moment has lost its patience with its naughty little prey that constantly slips away. And there is no doubt that he also starts to lose his cool at the finishline, when in addition to all the infuriating details of the events so far, the unsuspecting fool now wants to stretch his self-restraint to infinity.

"Something is not right! The guards should've been here by now!" Comes the irritated reply from the unit's leader, and as he turns back, every single wrinkle of the ire on his face becomes visible. Based on the deep furrows gathering on his forehead, it becomes completely clear that although he harbors hostile feelings towards Alviar, and he is sure that the asshole wants to block our entry, he also knows that the doc is not so stupid as to oppose him so openly. Because by doing so, the good doctor would risk a much greater retort, and then he would have to say goodbye to his peaceful solitude, which he had been enjoying until now in the soft lap of undisturbed nature.

It seems that Riley doesn't need any more motivation to take action, because without any further explanation, he opens the door and gets out of our little vehicle to walk closer to his comrade with heavy steps. Every cell of his tall frame fills with the pulsation of his restrained fury, which inevitably makes my stomach flutter with excitement, for there is something unbelievably compelling about the way he charges forward with the unstoppable determination of a tank. He stops for just a moment next to Alejandro, who, although I can't hear the fierce words coming out of his mouth, I know that he is explaining in, presumably very colorful language, why this unfortunate turn of events is bad news for us. And this gives the masked Hunter enough reason to take the solution of the problem into his own hands, and I lean forward to follow what kind of tactics the man chooses to eliminate this obstacle that cannot be called small even the slightest.

When he arrives in front of the metal monstrosity, which towers above him with unbroken dignity, he lets his weapon attached to its sling fall beside him, and raises his hand in the air with such noble simplicity, as if he wasn't about to slam down on a solid steel door. When one of his huge fists strikes, the metal shakes wildly from the impact, and the peace of the forest is disturbed by a thunderous crash, causing the birds resting on the trees to fly out of the foliage in alarm. And although the gate doesn't yield from this terrible force, the deep indentation created at the contact of the two-winged entrance already provides enough grip for Riley's hands to worm their way into the gap. A shudder runs along my spine reflexively, causing the little hairs to rise up, and suddenly I don't feel like fighting the feeling that overwhelms me, when I realize that he is trying to pull open the walls of the gate with his bare hands. And my mind tries to scold my body, since in the midst of a vital mission it's not the time for these dubious feelings to appear, but I can't tear my eyes away from the sight. He grounds his booted legs to exert as much force as possible, and despite the looseness of his uniform, I can see how the material strains by the work of the bulging muscles on his arms and back, and goosebumps prickle on every inch of my body, because I can almost feel the angry vibrations of his power on my skin. With a deafening screech, the metal surrenders to the Hunter's attack, and as the heavy walls slowly but surely move, the empty concrete road becomes visible. And just as Riley forces a passage wide enough for a person to pass through, he steps away and turns back to us, looking pleased with his work.

"It's open now." He announces to our small group, raising his deep voice, and I can see even from a distance, as the red glow in his eyes slowly fades, when he once again hides all the destructive power of his little Hunter abilities. Based on his makeshift weapon made from a traffic sign in the previous mission, I had no doubt that he could enhance his physical strength when he activates his skills, but this is a feat I didn't know a human could do, no matter how superhuman they are. And the fact that it awakened that fucking warm tremble in me is another proof that my sanity has completely gone.

"Steamin’ Jesus..." MacTavish's utters his rather apt reaction, and the excitement mixed with admiration creeping into his voice tells me that even though it's not the first time he's seen his partner use similar effective methods, he's still sufficiently impressed by the masked man's wide repertoire of pure power. And although I share his amazement, I quickly realize that Riley has even more self-control than I thought, because, under the influence of my little provocations, he could have messed me up even worse than I had originally assumed. And the knowledge that up until now he has held the reins of his aggression with a steady hand whenever I have directed my sly little words at him or tried to shake him up with my cunning tactics, and I'm still alive, for some reason fills me with sick joy. Now I'm pretty sure I'm not right in the head.

It seems that everyone was enchanted for a moment by the show the masked man unexpectedly put on, because it takes a few stunned seconds before Alejandro at least pulls himself together, and when he does, only a broad, proud grin spreads across his face. It's clear that he also liked this impromptu performance, and this gives him the impetus to return to the mission and wave to his men, coaxing them out of the cars in Spanish. This is the point where MacTavish also decides that he has spent just enough time in our vehicle, and opens the door of the car to jump out of it with such enthusiasm, as if someone had shown a spring up in his ass.

"Come on, lassie, let's not make our guests wait!" He turns back to me, gesturing towards the worn gate, giving a clear signal that after the impressive entrance, it's time to surprise the doc with our pleasant company, if he tried to avoid it so enthusiastically. The glint that settles in the man's blue eyes promises violence, and the wicked curve of his mouth lets me know that my Scottish friend, who has been on pins and needles since the beginning of our journey, has already formulated at least dozens of ideas in his head to welcome Alviar properly. And there is no doubt that each of his ideas is full of delicacies, each more painful than the other, with which he can make my unknown colleague sing a song where the doc will spill even his mother's name just to end the fun. And who am I to deprive him of the fun?

With a quiet, amused sigh, I pull myself together, so that I, too, can peel myself out of the comfortable tranquility of the back seat and drag my pretty little ass out into the humid embrace of the forest. And the Hunter with the mohawk, after checking that I'm ready for the excitement ahead of us, sets off with urgent steps towards the damaged gate, driven by his renewed vigor, and I follow him with similar enthusiasm, so that we can gallop towards the small group in deep discussion.

And as soon as we get closer, I have the opportunity to admire the communicator, which is still resting happily in Alejandro's hand, on which, instead of the faint blue hologram of his ID, something completely different is flashing with a bright yellow color. I don't need to know Spanish to recognize from the aggressively flashing text that we've managed to generate a neat little warning with our not-so-gentle knock. And based on this, it’s easy to assess that the institution's security system automatically signals the colony and thus probably the liquidation unit as well, if something or someone is reckless enough to venture in without authorization. Of course, this begs the question, if Alviar surrounds himself with such a line of defense to keep us out, shouldn't there be someone here to prevent us from continuing our little incursion?

"What's the matter?" MacTavish inquires, and he directs his eyes to the message flashing with increasing enthusiasm in the hands of the leader of the unit, where on the map a vivid red circle marks with definite outlines the exact location of the intrusion into the facility. And from the way the Scottish Hunter carefully peeks through the opened gap and scans the suspicious immobility waiting for us on the other side, it becomes quite obvious that I'm not the only one who finds the absence of the reception committee unusual.

"The security system is still active because we received the alarm about the intrusion." Rodolfo points to the hologram, and the deep furrows between his eyebrows reveal that there is no scenario in which this could be considered a good or lucky development. Because it might even make our job easier if we don't have to immediately fight with a couple of soldiers armed to the chin in order to get into the hospitable confines of the establishment, but silence and desolation are never a good sign if you expect to be welcomed. And we anticipated unfriendliness at least, if not outright resistance, but the fact that we are now greeted by none other but the big, stinking pile of nothing is more than strange. It's Alejandro who has enough of this hesitancy and, after pressing a few buttons, he makes the notification disappear to sink his communicator back into the deep recesses of his pocket, overcoming the unusual turn of events with the ease of a true leader, only to raise his dark eyes meaningfully at our small group and return to the execution of the mission, taking his weapon in his hand.

"We continue on foot! Don't let your guard down, we can expect that bastard to be up to something!" Alejandro gives out his orders and admonitions, and there is an undisguised hostility and anger in his tone, which leads me to conclude that, based on the events of the last few minutes, he has a strong suspicion that this won't be the only obstacle and interesting thing that we will encounter thanks to the doc. "After me!" He shouts, then pushes himself through the gap in the gate with purposeful movements, being the first to take on the noble task of checking out what awaits us on the other side. And when he has squeezed through, he points his weapon forward with lightning speed so that he can pump a bullet into anyone who feels like ambushing him. But, when the brave volunteer doesn't show up and nothing happens, he lowers the assault rifle and lets us know with just a wave that we are safe to proceed, and this gives enough motivation for his men to move behind each other in single file to follow their leader through the gaping crevice.

When the last soldier makes his way through the opening forced into the gate, my Scottish friend steps to the side, maintaining the principle of "ladies first", and with outstretched arms offers me the opportunity to be the first of our little trio to step onto the riddle-filled grounds of the facility. And I only raise one of my eyebrows and fix my eyes on the man, wondering when had he become such a gentleman, but finally accepting his sudden chivalry, I walk past him to slide through our entrance. When I cross the threshold, I'm greeted only by the emptiness, which for some reason seems even more peculiar now that I have the opportunity to take a closer look at the place. And as I divert my bright eyes, I see a small cabin resting peacefully next to the gate, where our cars waiting on the broken road greet me through a very well-functioning screen, and I immediately feel that something is very wrong. There is a single plastic bottle on the table, its wall thickly painted by the vapor of the water inside it, and I suspect that it must have been there for a long time if its contents could turn opalescent. That bottle must have been sitting in the stuffy booth for at least days, not an hour or two, to look like this. And I highly doubt that it's lying there forgotten only because of the carelessness of its owner.

But soon I'm jolted out of my contemplation, because I hear the two remaining Hunters arrive behind me, and as I break away from the strange view, I turn back and catch Riley, who, after MacTavish, is the last to press himself through the crack made by his busy hands. When he straightens up upon arrival, he checks the landscape shrouded in immobility around us with the momentum of his routine, to his eyes to then stop on the same small hole, the mystery of which I analyzed so enthusiastically not long ago. Despite the mask, it's easy to recognize the suspicious expression that appears on his face, although I only see thin but grim lines around the skin covered in black paint, as his eyes slowly narrow when he takes in the details of the scene left behind in a haste. And the fact that it also fills him with a sufficient amount of foreboding to dwell on it, only reinforces the whispering of the ominous voices in my head, warning that it's better to be careful, because this could be something other than just the doc trying to hide his ass.

"Let's go! The building is not far!" Alejandro calls out suddenly, drawing everyone's undivided attention to him again, motioning towards the road, which is hidden from prying eyes by lush green plants swaying lazily in the wind, as it meanders peacefully into the unknown. And in other cases, this sight could even be idyllic, but now it only awakens the unease that grows stronger in my skull with every passing minute. Because there is nothing normal in the fact that such a mysterious institution doesn't react to the intrusion of the official bodies into their harmonious little living space, which they have tried to protect with all their slyness until now. And I catch the worried furrows frozen on our leader's forehead and the dour downward curve of his mouth just in time, before he sets off followed by his loyal companion and his men, but even this fleeting moment is enough for me to deduce from his expression that we are walking into a party that I'm not sure we are prepared for.

"Let's not fall behind." Riley steps next to me, and although there is nothing in his voice apart from the usual deep hoarseness and his confidence, my keen senses quickly recognize the tension pulsing from him. It's no wonder that his mood is slowly becoming more and more gloomy, because anyone with a little sense knows how abnormal the suspicious smoothness of the mission so far is. But this is probably not the first time the masked man has encountered a mystery like this, because although he doesn't lose his caution, he quickly steels himself, and with only one last glance at me, he rushes forward with his friend close at his heels, so that they, too, could start sneaking carefully behind Alejandro's small team, picking up the pace dictated by the leading Hunter with the experience of the professionals. And I hesitate for just a moment to take one last peek at the cubicle frozen in unsettling silence, to then turn my back on the stillness that prevails in it, to catch up with my little buddies who are already moving forward with hasty steps. After all, no matter how fast the questions multiply in my brain, I won't find the answers here.

As soon as I reach them I fall in line with them, and for a minute I wonder what this extra precaution is for. Unquestionably, the doc doesn't like us, but I doubt he'd be so foolish as to try to attack four Hunters and six battle-hardened soldiers in the back. Not only because the sharp senses of the Hunters would recognize the danger lurking before they have the opportunity to strike, but also because it would strengthen our assumptions about his illegal activities more than any words could. After all, someone who has nothing to hide doesn't need to aggressively defend said nothing. But as my gaze wanders, taking in all the hidden little parts of the road ahead, I quickly understand that this thoughtfulness is not for Alviar's slyness. Much more to the bleak silence that follows us the deeper we drift into the recesses of the institute's territory. It's as if the gate we fought our way through was meant to keep out not only the wild beasts hiding in the wilderness, but to restrain the heavy atmosphere that settles here, which descends on us like a suffocating blanket. Although everything seems peaceful, not a single sound filters through except for the crunch of the debris drifting under our boots and the soft rustle of our clothes, and the whole thing feel as if we have entered into a fucking ghost town. An actively functioning institution buzzing with people shouldn't be so terribly quiet, especially when the boss here has tried so hard to keep visitors away.

And with every meter I walk, the grip of restlessness inside me grows harsher, causing my limbs to fill with tension, as if I should expect an ambush from behind every blade of grass or bush swaying comfortably in the warm breeze. The fact that instead we are surrounded by the same maddeningly lifeless calm stretches the sharpened attention of my nerves even more. It seems that the two Hunters marching in front of me are not much happier with the ease with which the mission has been progressing so far, because I only have to observe the muscles dancing on my Scottish friend's forearm, as he tightens his grip on the hilt of his weapon, or to take in the stiff line of the masked man's broad back to know, that I'm not the only one who is filled with concerns by the absence of the warm welcome we had anticipated. But when MacTavish, who has been diligently observing every square centimeter of the road, turns his head toward the uphill curve of our little path with the speed of a bloodhound that has caught a scent, I feel the nervous tug of foreboding in my stomach. Because even though I can only take a look at the man's profile as he looks meaningfully at Riley, who is walking in front of him, but from the way he pulls his mouth into a disgusted frown I quickly understand, that his super senses must have detected some unusual shit from the end of the footpath leading to our destination.

"Do ya feel it too, Ghost?" The Scottish Hunter mutters grimly, and there is no trace of the fun and relaxation that he managed to bring here with him until now. He doesn't explain what he found with the help of his sharpened perception, but the troubled arch of his furrowed brows is enough evidence that it may have something to do with our disturbingly smooth break-in.

"Yeah." The masked man answers curtly, and there is something inscrutable in his voice, which only crowns the dark look with which he stares ahead, as if he would already know something that no one else has figured out yet. As my gaze wanders to our two tour guides who are walking far ahead, I can see from the unsettled look they share that they also noticed the exciting little detail that made the aura of the two Hunters so terribly sinister. And even though my sharp little eyes run over the endless green blanket of vegetation stretching around us, the same tense peace greets me, but the voice in my brain assures me that I don't need to worry, and soon I too can experience what they managed to pick up on so quickly.

And although they don't share what they found so early on with the small team, the gloom emanating from the Hunters certainly lays the foundation for the watchful tension that eats itself into everyone's consciousness with the vileness of an infectious disease. And suddenly the whole group becomes a bundle of nerves, and perhaps with even more vigilance than before, they continue their troop along the wretched path, broken by the roots. The next few minutes pass with such torturous slowness, as if we had left the walls of the gate leading to the outside world at least a thousand years ago. When we finally reach the end of our trail, the building of the rather imposing research institution is revealed, which stands out at the end of the neglected courtyard with such unusual prominence, as if its creator had intended to attract attention rather than to hide from it. One would think that a private institution of this level would be able to afford to have someone keep it in order, but the area that extends to the building gives the impression that this noble task hasn't been fulfilled by anyone for a while now. And the hurriedly parked car resting untouched in the middle of everything doesn't help either. Based on its position, my guess is that whoever forgot this vehicle here, didn't intend to stay for more than a few minutes. But judging by the undisturbed layer of leaves sitting thickly on the top of the car, and the absence of any kind of wheel tracks, I can rightly conclude that the owner didn't leave the machine here for a short time, but it was probably left behind just long enough to raise a series of suspicious questions in my brain.

But this strangeness doesn't scare away the little squad, they wade forward with unceasing enthusiasm through the blanket of branches and leaves that cover the ground, and when I diligently follow them and sneak closer, then out of nowhere, like an unexpected surprise, a strange stomach-turning smell creeps into my nose, and I suddenly understand that there may be a serious reason why no one was bothered by the abandoned car. Because although I have never felt a stench like this in whole my life, every single one of my muscles is filled with sinister energy, and the instincts in my subconscious immediately convey the message to me that this can only belong to a source that I should better stay away from. And although a repulsed grimace swims to my face, still, like a puppet being pulled on a string, my legs carry me through the desolate field, and the crunch of sun-dried plants under the soles of my shoes reaches my ears as a dull noise, as I follow Riley striding with deliberate steps in front of me, who must have felt this exact delicacy together with his Scottish bosom friend before. The closer we get, the stronger the smell becomes, as if the building were spreading like a festering wound in the middle of the undisturbed calm, just waiting for someone to unravel its mystery. And morbid curiosity awakens in me, as I fix my eyes on the double-winged metal door leading inside, because although the warning voice in my skull tries to hold me back with tooth and nail from venturing too close, the unanswered riddles prove to be a much greater temptation.

However, with Alejandro in the lead, the group suddenly stops, as if trying to muster up the strength to finally cross the threshold of the godforsaken structure. And for some reason, I get the feeling that whatever is behind the elegantly crafted entrance, it must be serious, if the unit leader must find his composure to face it. If I take into consideration the multitude of ominous signs that have accumulated so far, which we have encountered in every step we took in the short journey that led us up here, then I realize that the man's sour mood could be quite well-founded. And based on my experience so far, my intuitions are rarely wrong.

"We're going in. On me." Alejandro gives out his instructions, and even though I haven't known him for a long time, yet in the the to-the-point command, I feel the unspoken harsh edge with which he prepares his men for the worst. And when he wraps one of his gloved hands on the metal bar running along the door and opens it with a decisive movement, all the troubled wrinkles and grim looks, as well as the strange, deserted emptiness that has accompanied our journey until now, gain meaning. Because, as soon as the golden light of the sun penetrates the darkness inside, I only catch the outline of the motionless bodies spread out in the large lobby for a minute, and my brain can immediately place what it was that held back the people from showing us their hospitality.

But I don't have much time to admire the interior of the institute wallowed up by darkness, because the force of the stench, which I had only mildly felt before, reaches me in a big wave, as it fills every corner of my nose. My stomach instinctively twists and shoves its rumbling contents up my throat as the repulsive smell of rotting flesh fills every single one of my senses like an inescapable slithery parasite. And as the nausea convulses my insides, I stagger in confusion, looking for support, because I feel my mouth suddenly fill with saliva with dangerous quickness by the nauseatingly sweet aroma. When my trembling hand finds the rough surface of the wall, and I finally don't have to fear that I will end the day sprawled on the ground from the dizziness entering my head, even before we could reach its peak, then my palm almost painfully clings to my mouth to try to hold back the stomach acid, that is slowly gnawing up my esophagus, before it can spill out of me. And I feel the tears start to sting my eyes when I gag violently, and I need every single nerve to convince myself not to give in to the stimulus that twists my stomach mercilessly.

Even my fast little body needs a few nerve-wracking minutes before I manage to force the contents of my upset stomach back into place while slowly breathing through my nose, and the vehemence of the onslaught of the penetrating smell of corpses eases a little. I'm suddenly disturbed from my deep concentration by a huge hand, which settles on the back of my neck, emerging from my shirt, with surprising tenderness, squeezing it gently, thus tearing me out of the exhausting work of banishing my sickness. And even despite the nausea terrorizing my body, I have the strength to be surprised, because the sight of Riley bending over me and pulling me into the protective cover of his burly figure, as if he wanted to spare my dignity, which was quite enthusiastically triggered by the surprise of my first authentic encounter with the reek of rotting remains. But perhaps what is even more unexpected is the scarf offered to me, which rests in his gloved hand with such self-evident casualness, as if this weren't the first time he had surprised me with such a selfless gesture.

"Wrap it around your face." He suggests, and although based on the hoarse edge hidden in his accent, his message sounds more like an instruction, but as my gaze intertwines with his, the restrained soft glint in the dark eyes seems quite real, with which he slowly searches through every pitiful part of my person clinging to the wall. And I get the feeling from this small thoughtfulness, which is completely foreign to him, that the peaceful little moment we spent last night on the roof truly helped him to finally soften up to me. But before I could start thinking about this at the most inconvenient time, I accept the material offered without any arguments or questions instead, to gather my composure and straighten myself up. As the comforting warmth of his palm leaves my neck, for a moment the feeling of absence hits me with a painful force, but I follow his advice and wrap my face up to the middle of my nose in the thick textile before my consciousness has time to process how ridiculously good the weight of his touch felt on my goosebump-flecked skin.

"Thank you." I squeeze the words out of myself, and I need all my will to bring determination back into my voice. Because even though at the first stray inhale, that hideous stench finally disappears from my nose, it's replaced by the man's characteristic scent, and this helps drive the nausea aways from my stomach with completely unreasonable speed, so that something entirely different moves in its place. And it's almost ridiculous how quickly my body manages to calm down from the sickness that has been tearing at me until now, as Riley's essence snakes into every cell of my being, in which I discover traces of the bitter smoke of tobacco and the spicy, salty aroma of his skin.

When he sees that I've managed to regain my presence again, and that the ash-gray color of my face has probably become several shades healthier, he gives me one last fleeting glance and wordlessly joins MacTavis, who is waiting in front of the entrance. And on the face of my Scottish friend, the curve of his lips pressed together with worry softens, as soon as he realizes that I will no longer pass out from the phenomenally nice gift that welcomed us in this miserable shithole. And my soul is completely warmed by the way, despite the not-so-bright developments so far, an encouraging half-smile appears on his stubble-framed mouth, before he disappears with his masked friend behind the open metal door, leaving me alone a little longer in my solitude. And after I finally regained control over my body, I realize that several questions that had tormented us so enthusiastically until now found a fairly simple answer. After all, why would the reception committee have rushed to meet us if every single one of its members was dead?

And from this, the confidence finds its way back into my limbs, and my feet guide me with a sense of purpose to the mouth of the building stinking of decay, and the demanding desire for knowledge igniting in my head helps to make my steps so urgent. I only hesitate for a minute, until I get used to the dull darkness that settles in after the blinding sunlight, and when my vision finally sharpens, I enter into the next scene of our investigation. My gaze glides over each and every piece of the unfolding murder, and as I cautiously wander in, the more details I manage to notice. Even though I have Riley's scarf over my face, even through the cloth the smell of death lingers in the dark foyer, which has soaked itself into every pore of the place as if the once luxurious room had turned into a gangrenous ulcer. Even before the chaos swept through here, the consequences of which we are now forced to tiptoe around, this could certainly have been a room imbued with professionalism, which would have impressed anyone who set eyes on it. Now, however, this decorative interior is disfigured by the decomposing bodies of the slain victims on the ground, around whom, mixed with dirt, the dry, dark brown stains of the liquids from their slaughtered flesh and decay have soaked into the floor's pale cream tiles. Only a female figure in a lab coat lying in the middle of the hall, dirty with coagulated blood, reveals that whoever broke in here didn't spare the unarmed researchers either. From the white of the documents spread around the remains of the woman's head, the small, torn pieces of flesh and bone fragments stand out unnaturally, bearing witness to the brutality with which the damn scums who wrecked this establishment were able to execute the staff who, even though were dealing with some illegal business, were perfectly defenseless.

"So that's why they kept quiet." Alejandro states glumily, muttering a Spanish swear word under his breath, fiercely scanning the walls, which in some places have been painted with abstract patterns by the dark drops of blood splattered on them, standing out from the pale blue plaster intended for comfort, like some grotesque frescoes. And the man's statement cleverly points out the now rather obvious reason, which can justify why Alviar and his employees turned away from their duties and the outside world in the last two weeks. There could have been a thousand and one reasons why the institution went into voluntary exile, but the fact that such a ruthless but rather simple explanation lies behind the events is not good news at all. In fact. It's downright disastrous. Because it means that whatever was hidden here was valuable enough that the senseless massacre of dozens of people was considered a fair price.

"From the condition of the corpses, their death may coincide with radio silence." Riley crouches down to one of the bodies covered in a dark uniform, around whose mouth opened to a silent scream, flies circle merrily, as if they had arrived at a real buffet reception. From the point of view of these bugs, this could be true, and based on the discovery of the masked Hunter, they have been enjoying this celebratory lunch spread with bloodshed for two weeks at least. And this complication that has arisen is the exact reason that makes it so dangerous for a private institution to stray far from the protective proximity of the colonies, because if such bad luck befalls the unsuspecting victims, the authorities will only be informed of the trouble when even its memory begins to fade.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" MacTavish asks the most important question, and his voice is filled with the hot edge of the raging fury inside him, and this is the poison that helps his facial muscles turn into a frown full of anger, and which echoes with a wild gleam in his slowly narrowing blue eyes. It's clear that although he wanted revenge on the doc for the adventure in which he got to watch his comrades being eaten alive by the wretched mutants, I don't think he had this kind of justice in his mind. And as he moves his gaze over the same female figure on whom I had previously lingered, his jaw clenches with such force that I can almost hear his teeth grind from afar.

"These are members of the security staff." Rodolfo points to another corpse wrapped in a black uniform with the barrel of his machine gun, whose ID card resting on its chest clearly testifies to the truth of the Hunter's claim. "But there are also researchers among the dead." He adds, gesturing with his hand towards one of the figures who once probably wore sterile clothes, whose body, frozen in an unnatural pose, had been mutilated beyond recognition by the dozens of bullets, which left gaping bloody holes on the battered textile. Whoever paid a friendly visit here didn't leave the success up to chance, did a fairly thorough job, and they didn't spare the ammo, if they could surely help the victims to the afterlife with it. The whole sad situation shows the kind of cruelty that only a real, calculating, and totally sadistic bastard can do. Because there was no need to kill these unsuspecting people in the midst of such merciless carnage, yet someone most certainly found pleasure in executing these mostly defenseless poor souls. And I only have to observe the direction of the corpses in which they are lying on the ground, with their backs staring up at the ceiling, and it becomes completely clear that most of them were killed during their desperate escape towards the exit. As if someone wanted to give them the false hope of survival, only to slaughter them a few hopeful meters before the finish line. And that's fucking cruel even for me.

"Someone has turned the place upside down bloody well. They made sure that no one was left who could spit out what had happened." My Scottish friend remarks darkly, and as his gaze continues to wander from victim to victim, the poison flowing from him in restrained waves becomes more and more menacing, which makes him look like a wild animal enraged to the extreme, just waiting to finally snap the neck of the one who provoked him. I suspect that this enthusiasm is shared by all the members of our small team, who stopped in the hall in shock, because the trash who did this, even with the greatest kindness, would deserve someone to make a seat cover from their flayed skin. I'm not a saint either, and I've caused a painful death for others, but even I'm not as psychopathic as to give someone such an inhumane and dishonorable end. Because these people were butchered like animals. For a purpose, no doubt, but mostly for fun. And it occurs to me again that this circumstance is another piece of evidence that points to the fact that there is some very disturbing connection between the dear doc and the I.H.L.s, which someone sniffed out much earlier than we did.

"Now it’s certain that Alviar was involved in something serious." I divert everyone's attention from the revealed horrors back to the original goal of our mission, and although the situation is becoming more and more complicated, it doesn't change the fact that we came here because of our new mutant friend. And current developments only slightly modify the questions to which we are looking for answers. Because now it's quite certain that the mystery of the mutant-riding I.H.L. comes from here, we just have to find out what could be so maddeningly interesting about it to make someone go through such a blood bath. "Whoever did this came for the same reason we did. We need to know what lured them here." I declare firmly, and as all eyes are fixed on me, I know from the seriousness hidden in them that everyone has come to this rather dire conclusion in light of the sad discoveries that awaited us. And I don't need to add the fact to my brief warning that whatever the perpetrators have found, they have a two-week head start on their side, and that's just enough for them to concoct and carry out the clever plan they stumbled here as a part of. Because this isn't the work of chance, someone wandered here for a good reason, and we have no idea why. We only know from the cruel reminders scattered around the hall that they are not afraid to resort to drastic solutions if it’s in their interest. Fuck.

But the heavy silence that settles over the group only lasts for a few seconds, and then it's Alejandro who takes control again, and his dark eyes sweep over the room with the thoroughness of a hawk searching for prey, before settling on the counter opposite the entrance. He seems to have found what he's been looking for, as he dashes across the chaos-filled stage and rushes to the small table that must be serving as a reception desk, as if he's stumbled upon some critical detail. When he arrives, he walks around the tasteful furniture with nimble steps, and then lifts the framed drawing resting on the wall with a few light movements. And when he lays the picture frame down on the surface of the polished wood, he only waves towards us with his hand, inviting us closer with a few quick Spanish words, so that we can admire together the work he snatched from the wall. And he doesn't even have to coax anyone to cooperate, because the soldiers scattered in different corners of the room set off without question at the command of their leader. My two companions break out from the further study of the traces of the massacre to rush closer, and I, following their example, carefully dodging the disintegrating remains stretching out on the ground, head towards the assembly. And when I stand between the Scottish man and his masked friend, I finally have a chance to look at the wonder that the other Hunter has discovered. And he got his hands on a really useful little thing, because behind the glass, the floor plan of the research institute unfolds with precise care, revealing all the exciting nooks and crannies hidden in the depths of the building.

"We're separating into groups up." Alejandro begins to outline his plan and points to a room which, based on the drawing, opens from the front hall and stretches to the entire length of the ground floor. And even though every classic horror movie that I watched secretly in the archives at school when I was a young teenager begins with this kind of trick, I don't panic now, because I have the right to assume that we will be in for a completely different kind of surprises than in those unique works of art. "Rudy and I check the security office to see if there are any traces left. The security system is still active, there must be something." The Hunter explains, and based on how his brows knot together, I know he's just hoping that they'll find something useful. Because, indeed, the security system didn't go kaput despite the chaos, but the rational little voice in my head warns that this could have been a very deliberate move on the part of the bastards who broke in. After all, after a bloodshed of such a caliber, there is no single-minded fool who wants to lead the righteous hands of the authorities to themself, and I highly doubt they forgot about the cameras that watch every corner of the building with prying eyes. It’s more likely that this inconvenience was circumvented by a sly trick.

"I check Alviar's office." MacTavish announces, tapping at the sizeable room on the first floor on the map, on which the precious name of the head of the institution is outlined in fine letters, announcing that the ridiculously large office has been placed in such a central position to serve his ego, even on this wretched paper. And I have a feeling that, as a poetic twist of fate, death probably caught him in that neat hole, and his deteriorating remains are now waiting to be found there. It's quite certain that they didn't let him live, because the one who came here didn't care about the doc's knowledge and influence, but the goods. And for that, it was probably much more beneficial if no one was left alive to hinder the process.

My bright eyes run inquisitively over the side-by-side sketches that reveal the floors of the building, and although all the inscriptions inform me in Spanish about the names of the structure's parts, I don't need to be a particular genius to recognize the heart of the research institute in a huge room that occupies an entire floor, well hidden from the world. Based on its size, it's also clear that they spared no expense when creating it, which wouldn't be a particularly unusual fact, but based on the increasingly complicated series of twists and turns so far, I can rightly conclude that it was some shady research that made it necessary to pack the basement full with tiny rooms, a gigantic laboratory, and that slightly suspicious chamber that isn't marked even on this ridiculously detailed map. It's as if the doctor didn't want to risk putting even the mildest-sounding name on it, just in case someone becomes involuntarily curious as to what they might have hidden there. Bingo, here we go.

"The central lab is in the basement. We might find there what we originally came for." I select the next destination, where the reason why we crossed the zones teeming with beasts and dragged ourselves all the way here can lie. And my thirst for knowledge is hungrily straining my consciousness, especially now that I know that we probably weren't the only ones who felt so terribly interested in what the doctor so enthusiastically hid from the world and curious eyes.

"We're goin’ to go down there." Riley declares firmly, clearly aiming at the two of us with this stray sentence, and I just turn to him curiously, as I tear my gaze away from the examination of the floor plan. And although I find it interesting that now he chooses my company instead of his bestie to hang out in the institution that has become a deserted haunted house, despite his emphasis that doesn't leave any room for arguing, I don't feel like rejecting his offer. Now I'm not afraid to admit even to myself that I'm much more glad that this rather dangerous man will follow me as my scary shadow, and hopefully protect me from what will most certainly lie in wait for us in the unknown. Although I doubt that bloodthirsty beasts would ambush us, one can never be too careful, and who would be better suited to effectively neutralize unexpected and quite life-threatening threats than him? And it's also dead certain that whatever awaits us down there, the Hunter will be the most dangerous thing I'll find myself in the same airspace with, in this cursed place turned into a graveyard.

"Be on alert." Alejandro gives us his last advice for the trip, moving his eyes meaningfully over the people gathered. And after everyone lets him know with a curt nod that they got the message, he pushes himself away from the counter without further hesitation, pats Rodolfo on the shoulder, and sets sail towards the showy door resting at the far end of the room, with some of the busy little soldiers behind him, who follow their leader towards new excitements like ducklings.

"Be careful, who knows what kind of boogeyman is down there!" MacTavish steps back, despite the suffocating atmosphere, trying to infuse us with some enthusiasm before we all head off toward our ominous destinations. But despite the tiny little half-smile on his face, the doubt in his eyes doesn't escape my attention, letting me know quite clearly that he feels anything but calm about our current action. Although he wears the mask of professionalism he has acquired over the years, he cannot hide from my searching eyes the grim tension that settles in his entire being, which makes his steps more hurried than necessary, as he turns his back on us and heads towards the glass door leading to the stairway. He understands as well that the disturbed state of the institution doesn't bode well, even if we find clues. Because even if we find answers, there will be some more important detail that someone else already got their vile hands on.

"Let's go." Riley gives the jump-start, and I take one last look at our map and nod in agreement, memorizing the small details that my brain calls my attention to check later. And when I also leave the place of our impromptu meeting at the counter, I take my gun from my belt and turn to the man, who, after making sure that I'm ready for our little adventure together, searches for the metal door leading to the basement and starts out towards it with firm steps. I quickly follow him, staying closely behind his tall figure, nobly letting him have the task of clearing the way in front of our pair. Fixing my eyes on his back, I almost instinctively pick up the pace with which he marches across the lobby, once again shrouded in stillness, as if my body would automatically switch to the cold sense of purpose that fills every fiber of his body as he leads us through the scattered sea of chaos and the dead. And the sudden harmony between us seems so natural that even my overworked brain doesn't stop to question why.

When we reach the entrance leading to our destination, the man only stops for a moment, just long enough to prepare for the attack, should a surprise await us on the other side. But as he pushes the metal in with one of his large palms, despite pointing the barrel of his rifle forward at lightning speed, nothing awaits us but the silent darkness, which calls us closer. This development doesn't surprise me, but it calls for a fair amount of caution, because the voices of suspicion lurking in my head tell me that although the quietness that greets us seems uninhabited and harmless, this feeling has already skillfully misled us upon our arrival.

"Stay behind me." The Hunter orders, looking down at me behind his back, but there is something quite soft hidden in his deep voice, which makes this small sentence far from seeming like an command, but more like a request with which he wants to ensure my physical safety. And with all my strength, I suppress the ferocious warmth in my stomach before it can bubble up unreasonably at the worst moment, because now we have to focus on the task, which, based on the man's wariness, could potentially hide more risks than the lifeless emptiness waiting for us behind the threshold with open arms shows.

With a quick nod, I signal that I have taken note of his brief wish, and as the red light in his eyes flares up, he wordlessly enters the dark room, and I remain obediently close to him. Accompanied by the dull light filtering in behind us, we venture inside, creeping with steady movements, and then after a few wandering meters, we find the steep stairs that, according to the floor plan, lead to the lab. The masked Hunter raises his weapon in front of him with unwavering enthusiasm and slowly moves to the steps covered in light tiles, scanning the pitch darkness in front of us with his smoldering eyes. Even I'm surprised by the unity with which we penetrate deeper and deeper into the narrow passageway leading underground, and the further we get down the stairs, the more the atmosphere around us turns into a sinister silence, where nothing else makes any noise but the soles of our boots creaking on the tiled surface. And I suspect that none of us becomes tense because of poor vision, because each of our clever little eyes quickly adapts to it in its own way. Rather, it's the steps leading to infinity that plant the first sparks of stress in my head, because after our welcome dotted with corpses, I don't expect anything good now either. And to an outside observer, it may be comical how two armed people stealthily sneak down a fucking staircase, but this uneventfulness cannot deceive the menacing foreboding that grips my stomach.

But as endless as it seemed, the steps suddenly run out, leading us to a short corridor, at the end of which another lonely door stands in our way. And as we stalk closer, it becomes clear that we are not the first to venture down here, because the control panel resting next to the entrance is destroyed beyond recognition, testifying that someone got the urge to sniff around down here before us. And this rightfully raises the unpleasant question of who and how could have found out that it's worth researching here. If the authorities of the colony didn't know what the doc was busying himself with, then it could be only an insider who became stupidly chatty, because the attack and the burglars' path seems too purposeful and organized for it to be just random looting. Someone let the cat out of the bag at the wrong time and in the wrong place, and the juicy info reached certain ears, whose owner wasn't afraid to get their hands dirty in order to get something valuable.

"They got ahead of us here as well." I state quietly, highlighting what has now become painfully obvious to both of us. And I can only hope that they left a few small crumbs that could be of use to us, because otherwise we would have traveled here for nothing, and that would mean turning back to fucking square one. And something tells me that we can't afford to sit around waiting for Laswell to find another deep drawer from which she can conjure up another clue of dubious origin. We need the info now. And quickly.

"Let's see if they left anythin' behind." Riley suggests, and with a confident movement, opens the door leading to the lab, which squeals under the man's palm as it glides across the ground, probably fallen apart from the violent entrance of the previous enthusiastic wanderer, getting stuck in the flagstone protruding from the floor. And as the entry to the lab opens in front of us, we are welcomed by the same unflinching, nerve-wrackingly peaceful stillness that has accompanied us until now, and which has caused us nothing but unpleasant moments. And now I have ingrained it in my consciousness that this deceptively monotonous nothingness is synonymous with trouble and deeply buried, sneaky little mysteries.

The Hunter crosses the doorway of the lab first, and I follow him into the small room, which could have functioned as a kind of vestibule, based on the cabinets lined up against the wall and the control panel that rests unharmed in one of the narrow corners. From the monitors shrouded in lifeless darkness above the many buttons, only our dim figure and the Hunter's gaze burning in crimson are reflected, as if we were the ghosts that returned to haunt among the remains of murder and destruction. However, my attention is soon caught by the faint, greenish light flickering from one of the machines on the table, which is the only proof that whatever is being operated down here is still very much working, and is just waiting to be turned on by someone. And it seems that Riley also noticed this small detail, because after scanning through the area, he turns around and heads towards the multitude of gadgets.

"It still works."  Riley observes, and judging by his tone, he also finds it a little interesting that the intruders were willing to harm everything else, but they left this little corner so untouched and intact, as if it had performed some very insignificant task. Or on the contrary. They didn't touch it because those machines are responsible for something very damn important. And as the Hunter settles next to the control panel, he slips his gun onto its sling and starts to work with rutin movements, presumably to breathe life into the devices.

I let the man play with his newly found toys, and I divert my scrutinizing gaze to see if I can still find something that might be of interest to us. I head towards the new door opening from the small room, and at this point, I seriously start cursing the doc, who turned this wretched building into such a complicated maze. It's as if he wanted to hide more and more excitement for those interested behind each entrance, although I suspect that there is a much more practical reason behind why he wanted to make his humble abode so bombproof. And interest immediately flares up in my brain, which leads my pretty little body to the doorstep of the battered entrance, next to which a broken fingerprint reader panel lets me know that this thick steel plate is meant to hide something very important from the outside world. This fills me with demanding sparks of curiosity, which makes me sneak closer with soft steps like a cat spying on a small mouse, and then, straining against the large door, I open a gap for myself to venture into the hidden recesses of the foreign place. As soon as I cross the threshold, I arrive at a long corridor, on the sides of which glass walls reach up high, located at an unusually regular distance from each other, and they are easily recognized by my clever little eyes, as the flickering lights of the security cameras resting on the ceiling are refracted on their surface. And this is such a strange detail that my body moves almost by itself to creep closer to the glass closest to me, and the fact that all the security cameras stand guard facing the walls of the corridor doesn't escape my attention. Because it makes it quite clear that whatever lurks on the other side is important enough to require a dozen artificial eyes to watch over.

And in spite of my sharp eyes, when I get to the very first glass wall, even I can't make out what might be hiding behind it. That's why I slowly stalk closer, and every fiber of me slowly fills with an instinctive tension full of anticipation, which reminds me again of the horror movies that I secretly watched in the privacy of my room under the cover of the night. And although I wanted to seem like a tough girl, when I was waiting for the danger hiding in the terrible silence to appear on the screen, all my nerves were on edge in exact the same way as they are now. As if my body wanted to prepare me for something terrible to occur, and the restless tension gripping my stomach infuses me with stress well in advance, so that when the worst happens, I can take flight immediately. I hear the steady rhythm of my pulse pounding in my ears as I slowly stop just a step away from the wall. However, the unsettling emptiness that lies on the other side doesn't become more visible, and smoothing my palm on the cold, flat surface, I lean closer to narrow my eyes and try to peek in, but I find nothing but a pitch-black, uninhabited room.

And for a fleeting moment, a shapeless spot seems to move in the back of the room, but before I can make out what it is, the shadow takes over the task of greeting me, and a huge body crashes against the glass wall so unexpectedly that I don't have time to comprehend it. The scream that breaks out of me is instinctive, as I stumble back in alarm, and I feel my heart begin to thump in my chest, and I'm afraid it might burst out of my ribs at any moment. The hard metal of my pistol presses painfully into my palm, but my shocked body cannot force my hand to move, so I just stare with wide eyes at the mouth full of needle-sharp teeth slowly appearing in front of me, which is desperately trying to press its jaws against the smooth surface of the glass. And when a hand grabs my shoulder out of nowhere, I only shriek pathetically, helplessly obeying the hasty force that is pulling me behind the sturdy figure that steps in front of me. Although it takes a few fleeting seconds, I understand that Riley is the one who rushed to my rescue and dragged me behind him, and a shaky sigh leaves my lips as my body slowly calms down after the goddamn surprise. And when I have recollected my composure enough to assess the way the man is standing between the  I.M.L. on the other side of the glass and me, then the icy fingers closing around my stomach release their grasp, so that my belly can flutter with a completely different kind of sensation, as I take in how protectively he towers above me.

"You okay?" Comes the question from the Hunter, and his glowing red eyes look at me for a moment as he glances back, and I don't think I'm imagining the wrathful gleam in them. But when his shoulders slowly let go of the tension in them, as he lowers his gun, when he assesses that I have no major problems other than a heart attack, then I know that the aggression with which he stormed in here is much more for a mutant imprisoned in a dark hole than me. And the knowledge that I was able to instill worry in the soul of this gruff man suppresses the shame that scratches my insides, because I screamed to the world with the enthusiasm of a young schoolgirl, that I fell into an amateur mistake and allowed myself to be spooked.

"Yeah. I think." I breathe, and my voice sounds miserably weak even to my own ears, and with the power of the combined work of every single nerve fiber, I finally manage to pull myself together and drive away the last grain of terror that has settled in my body. "This asshole surprised me." I clear my throat, pointing my pistol towards the glass wall, where, upon seeing the two luscious snacks, the deformed creature, perhaps resembling a combination of a wolf and a bobcat, starts a desperate struggle with its huge paws, and strikes again and again with dull thuds on the probably unbreakable glass. At least the doc had enough sense not to be cheap on this, even if he didn't have two connecting brain cells to realize that it wasn't the best idea to throw live beasts where dozens of people spend their daily lives.

"What an I.M.L. is doin' here?" The masked man asks as he steps back from the cell to take a closer look at the captive beast. And from the fact that its grotesque body, swollen with muscles, looks more like an experiment made up of several predators than a well-definable late mammal, I can conclude that this monster can be at least a fourth-generation specimen. This swine wasn't created by the virus through a bite, but by a long line of reproduction between mutants, and it could have a very remarkable family tree if such a behemoth could have been put together by its deformed ancestors. Why did Alviar need such a dangerous bastard?

"It might have something to do with what Alviar was working with." I come to the logical conclusion, because I doubt that he wanted to admire the reproduction of mutants with this monster. He could have done that with the help of a dead individual which a Hunter had previously made safe by depriving the wretch of his life. But my colleague needed the test subject alive, and this raises a series of disturbing assumptions in my head, which immediately encourages me to dig deeper. I hurriedly move my eyes along the corridor, and when I see the double door at the end, it becomes quite obvious where our path leads next. "That's where the lab might be, maybe we'll find out what the hell is going on here." I direct the Hunter's attention to my discovery, and without any further prompting, he turns to spy on what my clever little eyes have come across.

"Then we'd better take a look at it." Riley gives his blessing to our next target, glancing down at me expectantly, and I take one last look at the mutant who presses its foaming mouth to the glass trying to overcome the obstacle in front of it in its frenzied hunger, and for a minute I almost feel sorry for the scum. But I quickly get rid of my sympathy, because I know that if this heavy-duty surface were not standing between us, then without further ado, it would taste the delicacy that has slipped here in my pretty person. However, one thing becomes quite obvious as I turn away to walk down the dim corridor with the Hunter following me closely on our journey like a watchful shadow. In the dozens of glass cages spread out next to us, impressively developed I.M.L.s found a lonely little home, who, following the hysteria of their little friend, bravely ventured out of the hidden corners of their cells to see with their own eyes what caused such an uproar. Although outwardly they all display a wide repertoire of deformities, and no two deformed beasts are the same, but every one of them strains against the glass walls in peak condition, with a tangible aggression in their milky white eyes, and it's probably their two weeks of fasting that makes them so wildly enthusiastic. Alviar collected a whole zoo of mutants for himself, which required the help of trained Hunters at best. And if Alejandro and his small team had no idea what was going on, he got help from someone else. However, tracking down and killing these bastards is by no means an easy task, but it's even more complicated to not be caught where the liquidation units of the colony conduct regular patrols. And this is just one more reason for the fact to be reinforced in my little head, which echoes, that this wouldn't have been possible without the cooperation of a much higher authority.

When we reach the entrance of the main lab, Riley steps in front of me with ease and pushes the double door with his foot with perhaps more momentum than necessary, then he enters with his assault rifle pointed forward in search of enemies. And even though I know that, being an experienced professional, he probably instinctively takes on the role, fearlessly throwing himself into the unknown to eliminate risks before they have a chance to cause harm, I can't suppress the tingle that stirs inside me. Because the delusional voice in my head tells me that in addition to the routine, maybe my charming person helped him become a protective tank. And the idea that I'm influencing the man's behavior sounds so tempting in my head that I allow this dangerous train of thought to start in my mind for a stray moment. Because maybe I want to be the reason why he scans the deserted room in front of us with such intense attention, promising a cruel death in his crimson eyes to anyone brave enough to try to strike him. And when he doesn't find a single courageous candidate in the void who would like to meet him, he just turns and walks to the wall next to the door, to after a short search, conjure blinding brightness in the room.

As the neon light flashes, I cover my eyes with my hand because the light burning my retinas blinds me for a moment, and it takes a few seconds before the white spots dancing behind my eyelids disappear, and my vision, accustomed to the darkness until now, adapt to the new conditions. And when I'm finally not in danger of going blind, I have the opportunity to admire the rampage left in the luxurious lab. The intruders didn't even try to remain unnoticed here either, and they were certainly looking for something quite important, because dozens of files are lying crumpled on the floor in front of the wide-open doors of the cabinets, and the large footprints on them reveal that whoever broke in didn't come for the documents. Shards of broken vials and flasks and the unknown liquids leaked out from them litter the spotless white surfaces on the tables that stretch throughout the lab, and drawers hang out of the furniture with hasty violence, as if someone had just enough patience to tear them open and mess up the documents resting in them. A wide array of modern equipment, the likes of which a mere mortal like me didn't have the chance to see up close within the walls of the colonies, rest somewhat unscathed in the middle of the vandalism, the only reminder that some really interesting work could have been going on in the research institution.

"They were clearly lookin' for somethin'." Riley remarks, breaking the sinister silence that has set in, as he strolls into the upheaval of the room with heavy steps, curiously separating a couple of smudged notes with his gloved hand, which are lying on one of the counters and stick to each other, soaked in the unknown spilled chemical. And the Hunter is not wrong indeed, because only those who want to find something can turn every fucking inch upside down, and the vile little voice in my head tells me that they probably succeeded.

"They probably found it." I answer gloomily, and the shards of glass strewn on the floor slide squealing under the soles of my boots, as I wander inside and carry my eyes around the lab searching for something that has at least remained a little more intact to be of use to us. And as my gaze settles on the computer resting in a hidden corner of the room, a small triumphant smile crosses my face, because it seems that fate will finally spare me and throw me a bone that might be enough to find another clue. "But maybe we have something left for us too." I grin, and with nimble steps, I set off towards my discovered prey in the crossfire of the man's intrigued gaze, with such haste as if the unfortunate electronic device were a mirage that could disappear at any moment in the cold glow of the neon lights.

And when I arrive, I start the machine in a hurry, praying to each and every entity for a few seconds and chanting mantras for it to work, and as the starting screen flashes, a relieved sigh breaks out of me, which had been stuck in my lungs until now due to stress. I hear a soft hum as the computer warms up, and as the desktop slowly loads, it occurs to me that after the labyrinth leading up to this place and the complicated security system, a device that is presumably loaded with research data is left stupidly unprotected, without even a password. Instead, I thank karma for finally deigning to smile at me, because, after the excitement of the last couple of hours, I probably would have smashed this shit to pieces if I had to engage in a long hacking attempt. And as soon as the monotonous blue background comes up, and dozens of folders cheerfully lined up next to each other appear on the screen, it becomes quite certain that we haven’t needlessly wasted our time by going on exploration in this godawful building. My hand hastily dives into my pocket, searching for my communicator, and after fishing it out, I quickly pull out the connector, and finding one of the many inputs on the computer case, I plug it into the machine. And when the small window showing the communicator's storage space pops up, I select everything I discover to copy, because it seems that I have found a real gold mine, which I will probably be able to study with a calmer nervous system within the peaceful walls of the unit's base. And while the little device is working, I immerse myself completely in decoding the sonorous Spanish names of the folders, and I only faintly perceive the sound of footsteps and then a door opening, because, in the middle of my little research, something quite interesting catches my attention, as my sharp little eyes settle on the on one of the yellow icons.

Because even with my poor language skills, I can decipher from the "I.H.L."  phrase in the title that something quite juicy may be lurking there. Without delay, I click on the folder, and dozens of files appear in the pop-up window, under each of which lies a seemingly unordered series of numbers and letters. And it doesn't take much logic to figure out that random numbers might mark dates, which makes me assume that I might have found the carefully arranged notes of an examination log. But, when I scroll further down and names appear, I'm overcome with confusion, because the uncomfortable question arises in me, that what could human names be doing among the carefully recorded documentation of observations. And because of this, I start opening the files with frenzied speed, and the more windows that appear, the more the puzzlement that settles inside me deepens, because to my disappointment, each and every document contains nothing interesting except the profile pictures and personal data. However, when I see a photo of a man wearing a uniform similar to the guards here, I freeze in shock in the midst of my busy search. For a moment, I fear that my eyes are playing a cruel game with me, but when, leaning closer, I identify with full confidence the eerily familiar tattoo that begins on the line of the guy's neck emerging from his clothes, then the realization hits me with such speed that my brain doesn't get a spark for a second. Because the exact same tattoo is staring back at me, this time from the unknown guard, as what I so cleverly discovered in Laswell's report on the capture of the F.H.L.. And the wild assumption that Alviar hid in the middle of fucking nowhere in order to breed a new kind of humanoid mutant with his own hands, makes my stomach drop nervously and causes terror to enter my every cell with an elemental force. But why?

"Woods! You need to see this!" Riley's shout tears me out from the thousands of ominous explanations swirling in his head, and I wake up from my shock startled, to turn to look for the source of his urgent, deep voice. And when I discover the silhouette of the man through the door opening from the other end of the lab, then, guided by the stress hormones creeping into my limbs, I turn my back on the dubious data and  the communicator which is still working diligently, to rush through the chaos of the lab, driven by the momentum of the nervousness moving into my body.

When I step into the unknown room, the cool air that resides there hits me, and I quickly realize that I must have stumbled into that chamber, which was hidden in sinister anonymity on the floor plan. Both walls of the room are covered with a shiny metal surface up to the ceiling, and its continuity is interrupted by a multitude of square doors with handles on them, which gives me the feeling that I have fallen into the middle of a morgue. And when I find Riley standing in front of one of the open doors, I already know that I wasn't wrong, because in front of him on a long metal tray is a naked body lying as lifeless as a grotesque wax figure. And as I take a few cautious steps closer and more and more details are revealed to me, I realize that the unnatural paleness that runs along the unknown human form is much more familiar than I feel comfortable admitting. I stand next to my masked companion in silent astonishment, and with ever-increasing shock, I measure the almost translucent skin, under which, even in the state of rigor mortis, the muscles that used to swell with strength stretch clearly. But it worries me much more when I discover that I'm not looking at the corpse of a deceased Hunter preserved in an amazing condition, because although it's not nearly as deformed as many of its friends, it would be impossible to mistake the sharp teeth in the mouth opened in an eternal roar, or the worldless white eyes, which are characteristic of only one species according to our current knowledge. And my brain gets short-circuited for a minute, as I realize that the humanoid mutant, that we have just come across and the like of which I have never seen before, is a more advanced lifeform than our mutant-riding friend we met in the city, even solely based on its physical characteristics. When I break away from the unsettling sight to look around the room again, I realize that judging by the dozens of doors, this newcomer is probably not the only one hiding within the institution's walls.

And as my gaze connects with the Riley's, I discover the same dark foreboding in the now chocolate-colored eyes, which also sit in my skull like a slimy parasite. Alviar tried to play god, and whatever he used to create these monstrosities, whoever turned the institution into a slaughterhouse, in order to find it, took it and is long gone. Fuck.

[ucatty2-blog]

Hello sorry to bother you with this all of sudden ,and this might be coming out of nowhere, and I’m not trying to force you or be pushy but I m trying to get more people into this show with great potential. If your not interested it’s fine but Have you heard of or watched moon girl and devil dinosaur? Season 2 premier happened

The main character i love she gives me autistic vibes I’m autistic. The show has interesting characters, action ,great music, and animation ,good themes and representation, Anime references, plenty of Sailor Moon references too it even has an eyecatch season 2 is going to be more story driven if you find that interesting. It also shares the same animation studio as rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles.

It be good if you watch the season 2 episodes when they air so the ratings will be higher. 

I think Disney might be trying to sabotage the show with them probably dropping 14 episodes on Disney + on February 3 which has passed. We have a week to binge it.They did similar with season 1 and the ratings where low ,please watch season 2 episodes when they air on. But more importantly also watch it on Disney + in feb and when they air it on YouTube. Unfortunately they are dropping 14 episodes on Disney + so watch them all in one day but also when they air the first time.

I’m not just saying only cable just also. I’m saying please support this show. Despite that it still won 5 Emmys. Also if it’s no trouble could if it alright with you spread the word about this show to others you know like either online or irl. Time is limited!

Oh so I'm not the only one who noticed the 14 episode drop and heard the bells of grief ringing ominously in the background. I only watched the first 2 eps 0f season 2 (yes I watched all of season 1). Honestly, they should have just kept it as 2 episodes out for the public, and then drop the rest 1 ep a week for the rest until a finale.

Spoilers below

I enjoyed beyonder antics, and them getting beaten up by those they wronged. I enjoyed seeing the beyonder learn how to tiptoe to victory. Devil girl would probably have been more than happy to help moon girl under different circumstances. Molecule Man is a bastard for attempting to murder a (I think she's like thirteen) child. Bruh that kid got dragged here by the huy you don't like, why are you trying to murk her? She just wants to go home, man.

He gave Lunella PTSD from that bs he pulled. Episode 2 deals with that. We see OMG's girl crew from her university days: the hot tomatoes. I hate the fungal covered books, thise poor books. Reminds me of the last arc of Clinic of Horrors. Brr.

Anyway, they make several versions of new moon girl suits. Each version becoming the vibranium equivalent of moon girl wearing a bunch of poofy layers to look like one of those marshmallow tots that are stuck in the "A" pose. Mimi asks the mini moon girl if she is okay, Lunella lies. Mimi then tells her granddaughter that she should not underestimate herself, and that her brain is her strongest weapon. Then a scorpion gets supersized into the size of a bus. Moon Girl realizes her suit is over armored to the point of her being incapable of saving others, and goes zero suit Lunella Mode to stop the scorpion with cacti, her goggles, and a well placed kick in the tail.

[digimonandpokemon]

YESS we can, I've never seen anything but good reviews for this book, and by reviews I meant a bunch of tropes listed that don't actually tell me nothing about the plot so, please, please share with us about your reading experience thank <3

Aksjdmdkzkjdd alright alright I shall share my reading experience of this book through the lense of an asexual person who really likes fantasy novels because I think world building is really cool and could only read like a few chapters before getting so frustrated with it, it is hiding in the back of my book shelves :)

Spoilers obvs ajdhkdkd

Number one, there is very little world building. The author kind of explains things but it is obviously not the authors main focus cause most of the world building we get is "There's elves :) and they have magic :0 and won't you know it, they hate humans !!!" We also learn that all of elves are cursed to wear masquerade masks for their entire lives which is explained to us with the emotional depth of that one scene in trolls.

Number two, the elves hate the humans except this very mysterious handsome elven prince that has taken an interest in this one main character because he just "see something in her 😊" we learn that the elves live excluded from the rest of the world, divided off by a giant wall. The book obviously makes you feel like the main character is going to be the key to making the elves and the humans live in harmony again. Because duh.

Number three, do not take this as a stab towards the main character. I personally think she's a great main character who's head strong and does what she needs to to survive. She's make the perfect main character for any fantasy novel but since I personally don't like romance novels and I always see romance as "pulling the main character down into a love interest" it just doesn't do it for me. I mean she was a little a bland but I think that's just how the writing is. Which leads me into

Number 4, the writing is very one dimensional. I feel like the author was trying to make the writing interesting and powerful but they fell short and it was just kinda meh. For example after the main character kills a wolf and sells the hide we are lead to belive its a fay. So the author brings in this bad ass huntress who is covered in battle scars and has seen horrors beyond the compression of our mortal minds. The main character sells the wolf hide to her and asks if its a fey after the huntress gives some ominous warning that the elves were beginning to grow a lot more brave, getting closer and closer to towns. She's like "hmm it doesn't look like to be a fey hide but it is an impressive game :]" and you're like great! No author would purposefully mislead us like that after bringing in a clearly experienced character that seems to know what their talking about. Because if they did that would just be a waste of a scene a waste of a character and a waste of my time because that is just sloppy writing. I mean come on hahahaha

Oh fucking wait it was an elf this entire time! Haha! The author sure did trick you! Hahaha! And there other small details that are super inconsistent that I do not want to get into.

I was recommended this book multiple times and it's really popular so obviously there must be a reason and I personally didn't get very far into the book. My judgment just might not be fully flushed out and I may eventually go back and try to read more. It just doesn't do it for me.

However, if you want a YA fantasy series that I 100% recommend you should definitely give Odin's Child a try!!

I read the book in 2 days I couldn't put it down. It's got a good female protagonist with a a really well written out slow burn in it (so good that I even vibe with it which is hard for me to do) and this series kind of pulls a reverse on you. The world its describing is considered normal, yet OUR world is considered strange and hell like. There a three books in total and I'm only the second, but if the other two are like the first one I have no doubts it'll be good. The writing is really well thought out, the world building is so so good. It builds off of classic troupes and flips it right on its head.

I won't spoil anything just in case lmaoo

Anyways I'm done ranting and it is time for me to sleep :) gn

[bioshoook]

vaguely i still go here but i would like to hear more about the alfreyco outlast au??? that sounds so interesting to me??

ooommgg Lee that fic has been plagueing my brain since last year I think?? It's basically Alfredo and Trevor (the Red Web versions of themselves) going in place of Miles to Mount Massive Asylum and they basically have to go through the whole game except it's not a game to them it's real life. And after several months I've finally FINALLY gotten them into the building so now they get to actually face the horrors of the asylum (and ya know, reveal the feelings they've had for each other for years along the way too)

Since I love this story so much I'm gonna give you a snippet too :3

Welp, there goes Alfredo’s hope that the night would return to its regularly scheduled programming of scouring the internet for cases and watching whatever movie happened to be on TV at the moment. He juts his bottom lip out in a pout, but it serves no purpose seeing as Trevor’s back is already to him and quickly walking towards the left side of the building.   Alfredo follows Trevor around the side of the building, still secretly hoping that this is where their journey ends for the night. Unfortunately, it seems no one is listening to Alfredo’s hopes and prayers tonight when Trevor stops in front of the gate that leads to the interior courtyard of the facility. A decent sized hole rests in the bottom left corner of the gate; it looks like it was created by someone pushing it inward from the outside. Maybe it was something done by the soldiers that had been summoned here? It certainly wasn’t from natural causes like rust or age. The sign of used force makes a feeling of unease tap its icy fingers across Alfredo’s spine. “Well that’s a sign of poor maintenance! It’s almost like they want us to break in here,” Trevor muses. He runs a quick hand through his hair to push the few stubborn strands away from his forehead and crouches down to examine the hole before crab-shuffling his way through the man-made hole. Once successfully through, he rounds to flash a smile at Alfredo, who gives him the most unimpressed expression his face can muster.  “Aw don’t be such a sourpuss! We'll get in: sneak around, take some snappies, take some video, maybe grab a few documents nobody will miss, hopefully, and then skedaddle out of here before anyone is the wiser. We’ll be home in time for supper." He finishes his little spiel with a flourish of outstretched arms. He hopes it sounds as confident and care-free as he’s trying to make it, because the ominous behemoth of a building standing behind them is making it a bit hard to sell his act to his reasonably worried partner. Alfredo throws a glance up at the building behind Trevor, and then back to the gate lying beyond the vehicles, his Adam's apple bobbing. That gate is their only way back to the outside world and he’s about to put yet another gate between himself and it.  “Fredo, please,” Trevor urges from the other side of the gate now in a volume a little above a whisper. "Come on." “Alright, alright I'm coming.”  With a sigh, Alfredo complies and folds his 6’2” frame down until he can scoot through the hole in the gate. He can feel the iron bars of the gate grazing the top of his head as he passes through to the other side. Once free from the gate, he stands next to Trevor and the two take a minute to figure out where to go from here. The inside of the stone-walled courtyard looks just as bleak as the exterior; dead leaves dust the brick walkway that surrounds a fountain sitting in grayish water. The only warmth, if you can call it that, in the courtyard comes from the yellow lighting pouring from the few well lit windows that line the first floor.

[gemwing1988]

Misterie TV Tropes

Warning, this fanmade Tropes will contain some spoilers about this character in future Cuphead and other franchise fanfictions in the future. Please read and enjoy.

A wise and mysterious anthropomorphic painted wolf and the owner of the curious gift shop, “Misterie’s Mystic Grotto” on the Inkwell Isles. She’s a powerful and dependable ally and mentor to the Dreamstones girls. She also seems to have some connections to Katie’s dragon origins as she seems very knowledgeable about the Dragon Realms.

The Ace:

The Archmage:

Backless Dress: She wears a simple green cloth halter neck dress that shows off a bit of her back.

Bare-Fisted Monk:

Barefoot Sage: In a sense. She is an anthro who doesn’t need the use for shoes and she often gives out sage-like advise when the Dreamstones and their friends need it.

Beware the Nice Ones:

Big Good: She provides the heroes some knowledge of the girls’ powers and origins in Heart, Soul & Mind and had provided the Cups a magic potion to upgrade their powers abilities. She also serves as one throughout The Cuphead Show: Dreamstones Edition since TCS Elder Kettle is constantly left in the dark about Cuphead owing the Devil his soul.

Cane Fu: Can kick serious butt with her staff.

Crazy-Prepared:

Cute Little Fangs: She’s a wolf, so it’s natural she’d have a mouthful of sharp teeth that she’ll occasionally show them to intimidate a foe if needed to.

The Dreaded:

She is this to most of imps and most of the Devil’s finest demons.

She is also this to the Apes, Grublins and the rest of Malefor’s forces.

Does Not Like spam: It’s a little known fact that Misterie despises cauliflower. In her own words, it’s like a hybrid of cabbage and bleached broccoli.

Earthly Barefoot Character: Which makes sense since she is an anthropomorphic painted wolf after all and she is a Nature Lover.

Fashionable Asymmetry: She wears a silver bracelet with a pointed end nearly over her knuckles and green gemstones on her right wrist while she wears a long green sleeve-like handless glove on her left arm.

Even Loving Heroes Have Hated Ones:

She had been at odds with Chief Prowlus, the leader of the Cheetah Village in the Valley of Avalar due his Fantastic Racism towards the Dragons as well as his distrust and his adamance against having his people reconcile with the their neighbouring village with the Wolves until the Dreamstones’ visit in the Dragon Realms during the events of Dawn of the Dragon. It is also implied that Prowlus doesn’t like her because of her quirks and her sometimes getting under his skin by calling him out for his stubbornness and pride will endanger his people.

Although they rarely interact with one another, Misterie can’t stand either versions of King Dice due to his sleazy nature and his Smug Snake attitude.

Misterie is rather disturbed, disgusted and annoyed by the Hermit’s advices are couched in taunts and ominous implications and punctured by bursts of cackling. She is also not above calling him out and verbally putting him in his place if he takes it too far such as she when she steps in to defend Cynder when the Hermit implied that she is still not safe from Malefor’s influence just to get her under skin.

Everyone Has Standards: While she agrees an impenetrable invisible sweater is effective against the Devil, she strongly points out that it’s still impractical to wear during the warmer climates such as summer, at the beach and hot places like volcanoes and even the Underworld for obvious reasons.

Expy:

In a way, she’s like Aku Aku from Crash Bandicoot.

She was implied to be inspired by Rafiki from The Lion King.

Foil:

Misterie is basically this to Porkrind. Both are merchants who the the Dreamstones and the Cup Brothers go see to pick up supplies or certain charms and items. However, unlike TCS Porkrind, who is more grumpy with a mild dislike towards the Cups, more interested in the money and tries to sell his goods at ridiculously high prices, Misterie is a Friendly Shopkeeper with some patience and tolerance towards the Cups’ antics during their visit at her shop and sells her merch at a reasonably low and fair price.

She is also this to Quadratus. They both serve as a voice of wisdom to the heroes, have some vast knowledge and solutions to any situation concerning the Devil. However, Misterie is a being with a physical form and is able to get about, Quadratus is a spirit who resides in a small pool of water that resides somewhere in the Inkwell Woods and has to be summoned by making the water fizz with either a bath bomb or a jawbreaker. And while Quadratus had formally be in possession of the last ball of invisible yarn to be knitted into an impenetrable invisible sweater, Misterie has an endless supply of magical beads and charms when needed.

Friendly Shopkeeper: She is very warm and welcoming as she is professional with her customers. She most especially sells her merch at a fair and reasonable price.

A Girl and Her X: Technically a wolf woman and her martial eagle Palisman, Aren.

Good is Not Soft: She is the Big Good and a great ally, who is generous and helpful to her friends, but when the gloves are off, she can be just as brutal to her enemies.

Hardcore Teacher:

Hot Witch: She’s a magic user and in some ways, she’s very beautiful for a painted wolf of her age.

Magical Accessory: Her bracelet serves as some sort of Crystal Ball and a communication device of a sort on separate occasions.

Magical Barefooter: A furry who Does Not Like Shoes and is a magic user.

Magic Staff/Wand: It carries her Palisman, Aren, is able to transform into a bow and doubles as a Flying Broomstick like in Disney’s The Owl House for her to get around

Meaningful Name: Misterie means “mystery” in the Afrikaans language, which suits someone with a very mysterious origin and just as mysterious connection with the girls’ past.

The Mentor: To Katie, Lexie and Natty.

Nature Lover: She has a deep compassion for all living creatures and she personally enjoys living close to nature.

Noble Wolf: She’s an anthropomorphic painted wolf and a powerful ally to the Dreamstones.

Noodle Incident:

Offhand Backhand:

One-Woman Army:

Only Sane Woman: She was the only one (sans Elder Kettle, who was taking a nap at the time) to quickly forgive Ms. Chalice for using her charm to con people out of free stuff and suggests that she should be punished humanely and reasonably.

Shaming the Mob: She had stepped in to assist the girls to defend Chalice and the Cup Brothers by calling the angry mob out for threatening to beat the Cups up over Chalice’s abuse of her charm by conning them.

Silver Vixen: Although she never specified HOW old she is, but she still looked beautiful for her age.

Solitary Sorceress: In a way. When she’s not at her shop, she lives in a hut in the Inkwell Woods during her stay in the Cuphead universes.

So Proud of You:

Trademark Favourite Food:

Vague Age: Her actual age is left ambiguous but she is an adult much older than the Dreamstones and is very Wise Beyond Her Years.