#just imagining this as jackalope being late to a report

[jackalopedaily]

Jackalope Daily Day 309!

[09lover]

ramble under the cut!! ofc cw sui/death mention

imagine like.. if he reallt died would the jackalope reporting video for t2 still show a new haruka sprite.. like one where how he felt/looked before he….

or would it just be nothing there to indicate his death… or.. would they draw his dead corpse..? (which is very unlikely)

then what happens if he DOES die? we skip to yuno t3? or do we still get a haruka mv extracted from his corpse.. if that even works and continue voting but this time the votes doesnt even matter anymore..

will muu like.. feel happy?? i honestly doubt so since she actually cared.. im still curious as to wondering if she knew that if haruka’s promise was genuine or not..

i wonder if itll like encourage her to open up more in her mv/vd due to guilt or get more closed off in a defensive way and try to portray herself more to look ‘pitiful’ to like try to convey ‘im also affected too!’ or ‘its not my fault/i couldnt do anything!!’ (basic fuuta kajiyama denial behavior) is technically at fault for not trying to stop haruka despite being aware (ily girlboss but… cmon..) would she sing about him-? WOULD SHE JUST INSTEAD SHRUG IT OFF LIKE HIS EXISTENCE DIDNT MATTER

itd also be nice if haruka’s supposed t3 vd gets replaced with es and jackalope vd where es mainly tries to cope and also (insert tons of angst) or a vd where everyone gets free time and talks about.. haruka… or a really special vd all of a sudden about post t2 sorry guys im being delusional

OR OR!! short (maybe) haruka vd where it shows how he committed or a scene before he attempted to do so…

i want to also see how muu and es would interact after haruka’s death — like would they most surely blame each other? cry together in guilt, in which theyll get along better?? i gen want to know if both muu and es would cry for him.

if haruka did die….. would yuno attempt to comfort es in t3? or simply say that it was their fault for making such careless decisions..

imagine shidous depressing expression when he reached the scene in an attempt to try save haruka, only to find out hes reached too late, finding him with no pulse… holding onto a cold body which was once warm..

would the other prisoners blame es? would they react emotionally and let out their feelings onto them… like ‘WHY DID YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?!’

since es wasnt AWARE of kotoko’s acts in post t1… after learning of it will they try to do something in for post t2..? es please give haruka those asylum cushion room thingies he will take any chance he get to khs… can tell based off his desperation shown in koto bthday tl… ITS HONESTLY HORRIFYING.

i feel like amane will take haruka’s death as an opportunity to critical hit es in the heart because yknow shes now against milgram and them.. smth like ‘see what youve done? the damage youve caused is enough, stop doing the wrong shit.’ then talk about them being correct at the least for inno-ing her tho i dont think she would be all that impressed anymore.

would anyone.. ANYONE POINT OUT that ES WOULD EXACTLY BE LIKE ALL OF THEM TOO?? because haruka dying was triggered due to es’ poor voting decisions (us guys us..)

‘youve killed someone. just like us all, youre no different.’ then es gets a mental breakdown HAHDHBSD/hj

haruka dying impacts them all heavily one way or another.. like fuuta would def link them both together because similar murder .. call es a murderer… tells them to judge themselves just like how theyre doing it to all of them.. cmon like haruka’s death gives fuuta sm content..

well at the end of the day its our fault for not voting properly, thinking haruka was just joking.. cmon if a 12 year old threatening to harm a fully developed adult is horrifying to you how did haruka’s suicide threat fly over ur heads.. (joined during triage release so couldnt vote 💔)

i just genuinely hope that es will do something about this and take some measures, because things will definitely not end well for both haruka and muu. (considerinf that shes guikty and based off my own assumption that a guilty verdict will not stop kotoko)

id totally ramble abt that i think will happen in post t2 but.. shrugs. also this was written at midnight so shhh if this doesnt make any sense

I hope Haruka keeps his promise and try to off himself

(i like him i swear, i'm just really curious about how far the writers are capable to go)

.

[thiswasinevitableid]

#7? NSFW? Sternclay? Pretty please 🙇‍♀️

7: It’s our one year anniversary fuck how does one celebrate an anniversary of rivalry and one-sided devotion?

Joseph Stern, alias Agent M, has accomplished what no other member of the National Hero Control Task Force has been able to: he has captured a member of the elusive Pine Guard.

The guard has been causing chaos for the better part of two years, bringing important projects such as oil pipeline development, ICE facilities, and start-up construction to catastrophic halts. 

Stern isn’t invested in those projects, but he believes in the greater good, in law and order. 

One member of the guard in particular has caught and held his attention since he first laid eyes on him. Bigfoot, or so he’s called, has eluded most of their security tapes in a way his compatriots haven’t, and has been reported as more than once saving civilians and bystanders from danger.

He also once stayed behind to ensure Stern stayed conscious after sustaining a head injury. Stern has never been able to get an explanation as to why. But after that day, puzzling out Bigfoot’s motives, his past, his personality has become Sterns true goal. 

Convenient, then, that the man is currently strapped, standing up, to a holding table in his base.

“I knew word of those files would get your attention.”  He stands toe to toe with Bigfoot, who growls but says nothing.

“There’s no call for that. Besides, even if you’d managed to infiltrate here without alerting me, there wouldn’t have been anything to steal. All the information on the identity of the pine guard members is up here. I haven’t shared it with my superiors yet.” He taps his head.

“So, you’re bluffing.”

“Not at all. Barclay.” 

Dark brown eyes go wide with concern. 

“Okay, so you got me. That doesn’t mean you got the rest of us.”

Stern sighs, counts off on his fingers, “Mothman is Indrid Cold, Jackalope is Aubrey Little, Cactus Cat is Dani Coolice, Champ is Duck Newton, Hodag is Ned Chicane, Jersey Devil is Arlo Thacker, and Echidna is Madeline Cobb.”

Barclay sags in his restraints. 

“What do I have to do to keep them safe?”

“Nothing. You’re eco-terrorists, Barclay. Even if I wanted to I can’t keep the information I gained secret from my superiors.”

“You could. Like, literally. Just don’t tell them.”

“I can’t do that. I’m sorry.” The apology doesn’t come out as hollow as he needs it to, and Barclay arches an eyebrow.

“Ahem, anyway, you won’t be needing this anymore.” He lifts off Barclays blue mask (one that compliments his coppery beard), not surprised at all by the face underneath yet delighted at seeing it. He’s thought it handsome since the first time he laid eyes on it

The spell is broken by Barclay biting his hand. He yelps, dropping the mask on the floor. 

“That wasn’t necessary.”

“Neither was unmasking me. Jesus, you never struck me as some gloaty douche  but obviously I was wrong.”

That stings, and so Stern turns on his heel with a flourish. 

“Careful, or I won’t share dinner with you.”

“Oh no, no gruel or power bars or whatever you joyless fucks eat for me--do you smell saffron?”

“Yes.” Stern wheels out the small cart, covered platter glistening atop it and a vase that’s too small for the bouquet sitting in it trying valiantly not to tip over. “I made us saffron rice with lamb, and red wine dark chocolate cupcakes.” He removes the cover, feeling rather smug.

“Shit that looks good.” Barclay whispers, licking his lips. Then he looks up, “Wait, made us?”

Oh lord, the confusion on Barclay’s face sends pangs through his chest. What he wouldn’t give to kiss it away. 

“I, well, it has been exactly a year since we met. And I was trying to think of ways to mark the date, and I know you like cooking and food and so this seemed like a good gift.”

“...Did you make us a fucking anniversary dinner?”

“Technically? Yes.”

“Alright, Mister special agent, how am I supposed to eat it when I’m strapped to a fucking table?”

“I could, um, feed it to you? I shut off the cameras in this room so that I could do so without embarrassing either of us.”

“This what you do every Friday, strap random guys down and feed them? Sounds pretty kinky.” Barclay smirks. 

“I enjoy being helpful, something a so-called ‘hero’ should understand. And I didn’t choose a random guy; I strapped you, specifically, down.”

Barclay fixes him with an amused look before shrugging as much as his bonds allow, “Fine, you clearly worked hard on dinner. May as well make the most of it.”

Stern slices a chunk of lamb, offers it to Barclay who parts his lips without hesitation.

“Holy shit, that’s good.” The blissed out look on his face is one of Sterns favorite views in the world. He hates having to pretend like he hasn’t seen it before. 

As he cuts another piece Barclay asks, “You make the bouquet too?”

“Yes. I took some classes on flower language and  arranging a few years back, and I like doing it.”

Another bite, and this Barclay sighs happily before cocking his head, “You just not gonna eat?”

“Guests eat first.”

“I’m a hostage, agent, not a guest.”

“My point stands.”

“Y’know, if you just undid my hands, we could eat at the same time. Make it a real anniversary dinner instead of some repressed man in black feeding me my last meal as a free man.”

“I’m not just any man in black, I’m your main rival. You said so yourself, once. And the answer is no to the unlocking.”

“Well, there goes that option.” 

Stern sees him tug the strings of his woven bracelet a moment too late. He braces for an explosion or a weapon flying at him. 

Instead, reality warps for a nanosecond, and then Barclay isn’t in front of him anymore. Staring down at him is what he can only describe as a Bigfoot. And honest to god, fur-covered, claw-handed Bigfoot.

A Bigfoot that is no longer restrained. 

“You’re, you’re really-”

“Yep.” Barclay lunges, but instead of grabbing Stern he reaches for the cutlery, tossing it up and over the rooms computer center and far out of range.

Then he grabs Stern by the back of his neck, slamming him against the restraint table. Stern retaliates, jumping up and landing his feet against Barclay’s chest. There’s an “oof” but nothing else. Stern tries to catch him with his stunner, but Barclay avoids him easily, twisting his hands behind his back and letting go as he launches Stern into the window. Mercifully it's made of bullet-proof, triple strength glass, so he doesn’t plummet fifty stories to his death.

He’s simply pinned by his nemesis, the city lights thousands of eyes watching his defeat.

“Are you, ow, all monsters?”

“Nope, just some of us. And you’ve put me in a real bad situation, agent.” Barclay growls in his ear, “first by blabbing that you, and only you really did know our secret identities, and then leaving me no choice but to take off my disguise.”

“I, I’m sorry your poor problem solving skills caused you to reveal that Bigfoot is not merely a codenameOW.” Barclays claws pierce his suit, “Go ahead and kill me. I won’t give up any information to the Pine Guard. I’m prepared to die in the service of my agency.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.” He lies

“Nothing you’d miss?”

“No.” 

A rumbling purr in his ear this time, “Not even me?”

“N-no, what, where on earth would you get that idea?”

“Flowers gave you away. Red carnations are admiration, daffodils mean unrequited love, and orange roses are fascination.” 

“That’s a coincidence.” He grits his teeth to prevent the truth spilling out. 

“Not for a guy who admitted he knew their meanings. And you know what else?” He clips Stern’s hands behind his back in cuffs designed to hold the super-strength of Duck Newton, making escape impossible for Sterns normal-human abilities “you put some wild grasses in their to fill the whole thing out.”

“So?”

“Grass means submission. You put all your feelings for me in a vase and gave me plenty of time to take them in, probably thinking it a clever in-joke to yourself. But that one? I’m betting that one was accidental, subconscious. You want to submit. Whether that’s in general or to me I have no clue.”

“Just you.” He may as well confess it. One less secret to carry to his grave.

A low, dangerous chuckle fills the room as he’s spun away from the window and shoved to his knees.

“That what you want, agent?” Barclay replaces the bracelet, becoming human before his eyes, “Want to be a good boy for me?”

He nods, cheeks hot and gaze locked on the floor until Barclay yanks it up by his hair, tearing strands loose from their carefully gelled hold. 

“Aw now, no need for that.” Barclay traces the path of the blush with his thumb, voice mockingly sweet, “know your overlords like everyone to be emotionless, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting a good fuck, even if half the city can probably see it from here.”

“Oh lord.” He moans, the image sending his thoughts, his dignity, his blood, south.

Another laugh, his head yanked sideways to take in the view, “Damn, you like that too, huh? Like the idea of everyone watching while one of America’s finest begs me to fuck his face. Your superiors finding out their best agent is so needy he’d do anything for me to touch him?”

The tears pricking his eyes are from want, not shame, when he chokes out, “yes.”

Barclay turns his head forward, then up. 

“Please, Barclay,  please.”

“Please fuck you?”

“Yes.” He whimpers.

“Nope. Sorry, agent, I don’t sleep with the enemy, even if he gives me the worlds bluest puppy dog eyes. Not to mention, threatening the people I love is the opposite of being a good boy. But since it’s our anniversary, I think you do owe me a gift.” His fingers touch the edge of Sterns mask, “let’s see who’s been tracking me for a year.”

“Wait, don’t-” The mask tears off. The two men stare at each other, frozen, one in surprise and the other in fear.

“Joseph?” 

“Hello.” He wants to look away, to see literally anything other than the betrayal on Barclay’s face.

“I, uh, I imagine this will lose me the title of ‘favorite customer’ at the Coffee Lodge.”

“You, you’ve been spying on us. You’ve been at the Lodge almost every fucking day since June, and you’re Agent fucking M, I, I can’t-” Barclay paces, fingers running through his hair, “Did you start coming just to stake us out?”

“Yes. I tracked your movements, Barclay. I’m ashamed to say I accessed the medical records of anyone in the target area who had top surgery to narrow down my suspects, and eventually identified you as Bigfoot. Once I started getting coffee at the lodge everyday it was easy to piece together who else was on the team.”

“Yeah, and flirting with me probably helped a lot.”

“Uhhhhhhhhm.” 

“Oh, come on, don’t try to pretend that wasn’t part of your investigation.”

“It isn’t. Wasn’t.”  He lowers his head meekly. 

Barclay stops moving, sighs heavily, “Is there anywhere in this damn place that’s smaller and doesn’t have cameras?”

“My bedroom only has one. Just take down the smoke detector on the right hand side as soon as we go in.”

Barclay easily lifts him over his shoulder and trudges down the hall and into the bedroom. Rips the “smoke detector” from the wall, sparks crackling when he does. Then he deposits Stern on the bed and turns his desk chair to face it. 

“We’ve got about forty-five minutes before my ride gets here. Talk.” Barclay sits down, crosses his arms while Stern attempts to sit up straight.”

“Wait, how can you know that.”

A mild smile, “You really think I’d walk into such an obvious trap without an escape plan?”

“No.” He mutters, dejected, “what do you want me to say, Barclay?”

“The truth, genius.”

“You seem to know most of it already.”

“Yeah, but one big piece is missing; why the hell didn’t you write down our identities somewhere the higher ups could find them if something happened to you? Shit, why not just sic a bunch of agents on us when we were all at the lodge making, or drinking, coffee?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Because the lodge was my haven too, alright?” Stern snaps, “I felt understood there, safer than I did in any secret base. And every time Dani laughed at something Aubrey did, or Duck told some corny joke, or you smiled at me, I understood more and more why you all do what you do. I felt my commitment to my work waning. I had to do something to reiterate my belief in it. This was that something.”

Barclay is silent for a moment, taking Stern in bit by bit.

“You want to leave the NHCTF, don’t you?” He leans forward in quiet shock. 

Stern nods, defeated, “I’ve been questioning our methods for some time, but always thought that what we did was in the service of keeping people safe. I’m still not fully convinced the Pine Guard is going about it the best way, but from what I’ve seen, you do a far better job of it than we do.”

“So join us. Help us figure out how to be even better.” Barclay reaches for him, takes his hand.

“You’d ask me to just like that?”

“Most of us like you, Joseph. We’re not super into Agent M, but it’s not like we haven’t noticed you’re not chasing us down as much as you used to. Also, I’d be a really crappy superhero if I didn’t at least try to recruit the smartest man I know to our side.”

Stern blushes more than necessary at the compliment. 

“Okay. I’m in. I’m ready to try being a different kind of good guy.”

“Welcome to the Pine Guard.” Barclay presses the secret hinges on the cuffs, and they drop to the floor. 

A fit of giggles in Sterns throat pours out into the space between them, “Jesus, I didn’t think betraying the government would feel so liberating.”

“Always knew you were a good guy, deep down.”

Another blush has him cursing his capillaries. 

“Heh, you do like it when I call you good.”

“Yes. Though as you observed, I have a weakness for humiliation as well.”

“Y’know, we’ve got a little bit of time still.” Barclay leans back, and Stern perks up when his hands hit his belt.

“And it is our anniversary.” Stern sinks to the floor, covers a few inches on his knees to rests his head on Barclays thigh.

“Shit, you really are a needy little thing.” Barclay shifts and wiggles awkwardly in order to get his close low enough to give Stern the access he needs. Stern nuzzles his inner thigh, skates his hands along muscular legs, making a mental note to discover what they feel like naked and tensing in time with their owners moans. 

“You’re rather, uhm, slick already. Is this where you tell me you got into heroics because you get off on fighting?”

“Nope, just on manhandling you. And you’re in no position to comment, agent.” The growl he puts into that last word has Stern melting forward. Which is helpful, in that Barclay shoves him down the rest of the way. He licks and sucks eagerly at him, moaning messily when Barclay tilts his hips up, pressing and rutting against him. 

���Like I, fuck, said babe, you’ve got no room to feel smuggAH--shit that felt good--amazed I didn’t walk in on you in the lodge bathroom with some dudes dick down your throat while another one fucked that tight ass.”

Stern would like to point out that a) he would never do such a thing in a business he respected and b) there’s only been one dick he’s wanted anywhere near him in months. But he doesn’t dare pull away. Instead he whimpers, shakes his head and takes all of Barclay’s cock into his mouth.

“Hnnnshit, maybe I got it wrong, maybe you, fuck, were one smile away from falling to you knees and begging me to fuck you over the counter.” 

Stern nods emphatically, pawing at any exposed skin he can find on Barclay stomach and hips,  and the larger man laughs.

“Fuck, much as I wanna hold you down and come all over that handsome face, got something else I wanna do even more.” He lets go of Sterns head, nudges him back so he can join him on the floor. 

“Wha-ohshit’ He gasps when Barclay rips the front of his pants off, wrapping one large hand around his cock. But when Stern tries to thrust up into the warm, tight fist, Barclay pins his hips down with one hand. There’s such easy strength in the movements that Stern tilts his head back to rest on the spotless bedspread, because baring his throat feels like the only suitable response. 

Teeth just sharper than they ought to be sink into the base of his neck, but even as he arches and thrashes in response, he can’t get any stimulation on his cock. Coarse coppery hair tickles his skin as Barclay laughs, “Cute how you think that’s enough begging to get what you want.”

“Barclay, please, I, I’ve wanted this for months, it’s all I want, I will do anything.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Poor special agent, so desperate.” Barclay’s tone is cruel as he drags his hand up in one long, slow stroke. Stern eagerly awaits a downstroke that doesn’t come. 

“Well? Gimme one good reason to indulge my pathetic new plaything.”

“I, I, I’ll be good, so good for you, let you do whatever you want, fuck.” The barest movement of Barclays hand and he sobs, “please, I just want to be good, I just want you to use me, god, please just tell me what you want.” 

“Admit you’re a needy fucker who likes the fact the other cameras in this building can probably hear him begging me to-”

“I am, I need you so badly, I need this, I want you so much, I need youOHyes, yes.” He groans happily as Barclay switches to rapid strokes and drags one of Sterns hands between his legs. He keeps his fingers outside for the time being, focuses on circling his thumb and dragging the other digits in tight patterns.

“C’mon handsome, jack me off, show me how much you like your reward oh fuck, fuck, Joseph, that’s it babe, fuck that’s good.” His head drops to mouth at Stern’s neck with a moan as he grinds against Sterns palm, “shit, shoulda asked you out last week like I was planning to, coulda been doing this every night, yeah, ohyeah.” As he comes his grip on Sterns cock tightens, and even as he rides out his orgasm he’s growling, “come on agent, lemme see you ruin those fancy clothes.”

Stern comes with what sounds, to his ears, like a pathetic cry. Yet as soon as he spills onto his stomach and Barclays hand, the larger man kisses his chest, whispering sweetly, “You’re so good, did so good for me baby, you’re amazing.”

With unsure fingers, he brushes a strand of loose hair from Barclays cheek. Barclay looks up, smiling so tenderly Stern worries he’s dreaming. Then Barclay sits up, cupping his chin and drawing him into a gentle kiss, sighing happily when their lips meet. 

“Is it selfish to be happy that you joining the team means I get to see you everyday?”

“Not in the least. Though you see me most days at the coffee shop anyway.”

“Yeah, but now I get to do this” another kiss, somehow twice as tender as the first, “when I do.”

Stern curls into his arms as he continues, “guess we oughta get you a codename now.”

“You know, I’ve actually given that some thought. Given that only some of you drew your names from cryptids or, um, I suppose your true forms, I think there’s room for a codename that reflects my history with secretive government agencies while staying on theme?”

“I think so too.” Barclay smiles expectantly. 

“In that case,” Stern grins back, future brightening ahead of him for the first time in years, “just call me Roswell.”