#now tommy may seem like a wild card

[thestobingirlie]

polls on tumblr are so boring. “who do you think is the best ship?” “who’s the best character?”

YAWN!!!

[the-firebird69]

It seems that Tommy f may have made like a superior link race to build stuff and might have his version of molar go after them and them makes a whole bunch of alpha clones and they seem to be smarter and I think so on purpose

Zues Hera

We found it a bunch of them escaped and they said I'm more like you there's really no place for us except this odd group that's in the middle they're trying to hang out with you it's not really that bad to talk about the ships when they say they lost that opportunity so we have an edge now what you say is that's fine for them but the wild cards so I see that

Mac

[soft-boi-eli]

Mcyts helping a trans masc after top surgery. (Part 1)

Tw:swearing, pain pills, some hints to vomiting, fluff as well.

Wilbur

This simp...

Makes sure you regularly drain your drains, take your medication.

You dont even have to get the fuck up, I mean he's your personal butler until the doctor gave you the okay.

Three times a day you get a smoothie. He can tell that you dont want to eat because of the pain.

The least you can do is drink something to nurioush you while you were in pain.

If you're embarrassed about having to sleep on some dog pee pads for the drain. Dont be.

Wilbur may not understand but he will constantly comfort you. He'll even make a video to tell his viewers he won't be posting for a moment. A personal issues came up and that is all they know for now.

Also when cold he'll try to keep you warm by very, very gentle cuddles. But any sign of pain and he's off of you and getting you warm blankets and heating packs.

His sweaters? Now all yours. You have no say. He will give you one every day knowing you find alot of comfort in wearing his clothes.

The last thing he wants is you in pain. Especially if it was caused by him.

Your testosterone shot? Dont worry he's got it for you.

He doesn't want you to get up unless you needed to go to the restroom or you were itching to get up.

If you dont take it slow he will threaten you.

This is a threat. He will make you sit back down if you tried to get up and clean.

All in all he is a simp and your butler.

Technoblade

Technoblade may not know what to do but he will try.

He's quite nervous but when he realized you havent eaten and needed something in your system for your pain meds hell make you something soft and light on the stomach.

Are you cold? He'll cover you in a blanket and just sit next to you. Floof senses you in pain and cuddles you more then technoblade.

Techno was a bit butt hurt but knew that you needed alot of support right now.

With his height his clothes are either tight or loose. But his hoodies are always huge. And very fucking comfortable.

His scent relaxed you and helped you sleep at night.

He is a hidden simp.

He will make sure you're comfortable. If you want him to he'll sleep with you in the living room.

When you start walking him and Floof are constantly following you. Just to make sure you are safe and comfortable.

You cant help but love your two boys.

His streams and videos are already inconsistent but he did say his next video or stream might take a longer time.

But if you dont mind then you'll sit near him while he streams. If you needed anything he'll get it.

You saying hi to chat. They know you're in pain by your tone.

And anyone he's in a call with will ask what's up. And when you tell them they'll understand and they'll hype you up.

It warms techno's heart when his friends hype you up.

God this closeted simp is melting internally.

Schlatt

He will tease you.

Pictures are taken and spread around the internet like a wild fire.

Caption to those pictures?

This dumbass just got out of surgery and didnt expect to feel like trash lol.

But off camera he's quite the nice guy. Reminding you to drink your water, getting you soft foods or soups, heck he give you some of his pushies from his youtooz.

And this behemoth of a man will give you his shirt or hoodies.

You are with him when he streams or records.

There is no say.

He wants to keep his eyes on you and make sure you are comfortable and safe.

Lowkey dragged you bed into his recording room, you were just vibing in the corner.

You meds are on a set schedule. If the time lands when he's on stream he doesn't think. Just gets up grabs your meds and a premade smoothie.

With that he gave them to you.

Watching you swallow that pill because you can be stubborn with pain meds.

Returns to the stream.

Yells at chat for calling him a simp. He told them you were in pain and it's the least he can do for you.

Will low key rub your back off stream. As sleeping while sitting up us hell on your shoulders.

Jambo is all over you, soaking up the attention he can get while you were immobile.

Schlatt would glare st him for taking away his S/O.

When it came to you wanting to walk he will let you.

If you hurt then this man would laugh and tell you to sit your ass down. You are going anywhere just yet.

He's gonna carry you when you are in as much pain.

He's tall and there is no stopping him.

It makes him feel a bit happier due to the fact you aren't hurting as much, and still getting to the place you needed.

Also he will hug you if he sees you are uncomfortable. The hug is very soft and unlike him.

But at least he is trying.

He also keeps his yelling down, doesn't want you to make too many stiff movements. It would hurt the hell out of you.

Tommy

Ok. Hear me out, butler.

He see the pain you are in and as one of his best friends he wont let you do anything.

Your parents were out of town after your surgery and it wasn't their fault their work called in suddenly.

So you were sent over to Tommy's for the three weeks they were out.

Tommy would let you relax on his bed, heck even sleep on it as well.

Doesn't care if your drains stain the bed. That's an easy clean up and he wants you to be comfortable.

He does still stream. Because it's something he does for a living.

But he'll try to keep it a bit quieter.

You once walked out of the room when he was streaming. You looked like a gremlin, hunched over while you had to take a piss.

When you entered you were greeted by wilbur, techno, and phil telling you they hope you heal fast.

"It only gets better from now on (y/n). Take it easy alright?"-wilbur

"Congrats mate, just relax and dont forget to focus on healing."-Phil

"Yo you got the surgery. Pog. Stay healthy (y/n)."-techno

You melted lightly. A small smile graced your face.

It brought you joy and there was nothing that could compare to it. Honestly.

It seemed almost every day someone tommy knew was hopi g a speedy recovery.

He once yelled at chat for saying you should suck it up.

"CHAT THEY JUST WENT THROUGH SURGRY. LEAVE THEM ALONE!"

You forgot that your parents were even out for those weeks.

Tommy would definitely understand slightly that it would hurt to constrict your chest.

"You cold?"

When you nod tommy is up and handing you one of his hoodies. They are big and comfy. Easy to put on too. So they are perfect.

His two dogs, Walter and Betty?

Expect them in his room curled around you. Dogs know when humans feel pain and when they need something to comfort them.

The stream kind of enjoyed that.

They got wholesome content from you and dog content.

Win win.

Tommy will make sure you have your meds.

If it lands during a stream he blacks out the camera and carefully gets you the things needed for it.

Get you a best friend like tommy.

They wont let you do much when in pain.

Tubbo

He doesn't fully know what to do. He went and spent a few nights over at your house.

Your parents asked his parents for help so they sent over tubbo.

They made a list but the poor boy couldnt read it.

"A sm-oosthie with their pain pill... what the hell is a sm-oosthie?!"

It took him calling tommy to ask him to tell him.

"Tubbo. It says smoothie and who is this fo-."

He hung up before tommy could finish and made the smoothie.

Your cat was quite cuddly.

When he walked in your cat was on your lap.

"Tubbo? When did you get here?" Oh yeah it was a surprise.

"Not too long ago. Your parents left and asked me to help."

He was doing it in all good.

But he scared you so badly.

He bought you a stuffed animal...

It was a huge minecraft bee. And by huge I mean huge.

Like here's the stuffed animal.

Ignore the child. I wished there was a better picture.

But yeah you get the point.

Tubbo may not know how to help you fully but he's trying.

Tommy came to visit with wilbur and phil.

Tommy was meeting up with them and you lived close to wilbur.

When they saw you laid up in bed, tubbo trying to find out how to help with your medication phil kinda went father mode.

You got homemade soup to take your meds.

Tubbo was quite happy to see you smiling and lightly laughing.

When they left you felt better.

Tubbo may not know how to do alot but he tried his best. And you loved every moment.

You got you best friend to help you. And nothing was better then that.

Ranboo

Ranboo spent the night and all you guys could do was joke about the pain.

The jokes were quite self deprecating too.

All night you guys were up.

You couldn't sleep because of the pain and he didnt want to sleep due to the fact he didnt want you to be alone.

So you two were sleep deprived and your parents were concerned. But understood you two didnt want the other to feel bad.

After you healed a bit your parents got called into work. Leading to you spending a few days over there.

Ranboo streamed a recorded with you in the back ground.

He forgot you were there once and he turned on face cam. There you were in the background nose deep into a book while wearing one of his hoodies.

You were freezing and your shirts were a bit too tight.

He just gave you one of his and that was that.

"Whis in the background?"-dono

"In the background?" He turned around to see you just reading your book.

"Oh. That's one of my friends. They had a surgery a week ago."-ranboo

He turned to you, "(y/n) say hi to stream."

Looking up you waved.

"My gay mind went brrr at the idea of no sacks of fat. Now body do the big pain."-(y/n) 2021

It brought a laugh to ranboo and his chat.

You joked through the pain. It was funny.

Dream

What is this I see? He's a simp indeed.

Low key he's answering your beck and call.

He's smothering you in love.

It may not be physical affection but it is still affection.

Your hoodies are replaced with his.

They are huge and comfy.

He saw something online that reminded him of you.

He said it was cute and decided you needed it.

You loved it. It helped you sleep.

Since sapnap lives with him he sends in sapnap sometimes because he's recording or has to get something that wasn't in the house.

Also when you found the zipper you unzipped it and found dream stashed some gift cards and little trinkets in it. Along with a note.

'Knew you would of found this.'-Clay

It shocked you kind of.

But you loved it. It was quite comforting that he gave his affection in these ways still.

Even if it wasn't physically.

Patches is on you 24/7.

She's cuddling you and being very gentle on you.

Low key she won't leave you though, she's following you everywhere, on your lap, sitting there when your on the toilet.

She's clingy. More clingy then before.

But it warmed your heart.

If george visits then he'll see a little gremlin making a b line to the bathroom.

All because the pain made your stomach feel upset.

And you hadn't eaten anything because of pain.

Dream is quick to rush in and see what's wrong.

You were sitting on the ground in the bathroom. Needless to say it didnt end well and you hated it.

"Baby. Do you want me to get you a smoothie and your pain meds?" You were grateful.

After leaving the bathroom you lightly hunched over you noticed the British man in your living room.

You watched his videos.

You waved lightly with a smile.

"Oh sorry (y/n) I didnt tell you george was coming did i?"

Your look told it all.

"Sorry you have to see me like this." You had the urge to apologize.

"No dont be sorry. Surgery is painful."-george

With a small nod you went back to your room and relaxed.

George

He didnt know what to do at all.

He answered your requests.

But he didnt know why you needed that thick ass blanket in the middle of the summer.

But now you have it.

Your stuffed animal that was left in the living room?

It's in your arms by your side.

He's sad it wasn't him in your arms but understood it would cause you pain.

He just lightly lays in your lap.

It brought you comfort and him comfort.

Your germilin ass tended you get up and walk at the weirdest time too.

3am?

Your are going to get a snack.

5am?

You are on your way to the toilet.

7am?

Your once more in the kitchen getting something to eat with your pain pill.

George slept through it and was confused when you weren't in bed like the doctors told you to.

He's quite meticulous with your meds and eating habits.

He doesn't push but makes sure you have something with that pill.

Hell try to help you with your bandages. But sometimes got queasy at the blood and stuff.

It was okay with you though.

You didnt mind that due to the fact that you too got queasy as well.

I think you guys sleep through this alot.

Wilbur and tommy visited.

You was shocked and confused when they had a few get well soon gifts.

Tommy got you a small fidget toy, just something to do with your hands sometimes.

Wilbur got you a few books and a small stuffed toy.

It was a orca.

You loved it but still loved the one that george got you.

He got you a little wooloo one.

It was something that was soft and easy to cuddle.

But the books wilbur gave you were amazing.

It gave you something to do for a long while. And it gave george some more cuddle time.

Other than not knowing what to do george was a great source of comfort.

Sapnap

Sapnap is a bit more experienced with it.

Kind of knowing what to do and all together he just know more then most people.

There is a regular schedule for you meds and so called meals, he changes out the dog pads if he notices them dirty. He knows how to maneuver himself next to you so there was no pain.

He also sucked up that he would be overwhelmingly hot and sat next to you under the blanket.You weren't nearly as cold because of that.

Also since sapnap lives with dream I imagine that dream pops in some times and so does patches.

You all were probably best friends as children. And people always thought that you and dream would get together.

Only because you two were more touchy.

But you saw him as an older brother, and took a liking to sapnap.

Dream was really suportive and saw you as a little sibling.

Dream probably saw you not doing to well and made you something to eat and brought your pain medication.

That was because sapnap was sleeping next to you.

Patches curled up between to two of you and dream brought in something you hadnt seen before.

A roll away bed.

This mother fucker got a whole new bed just so he could sleep in the same room as you and sapnap.

"Sapnap is a heavy sleeper. What if you need something?" He was correct.

You woke up to pain and discomfort.

Dream woke up but sapnap didnt.

You were mainly cold though...

How the hell were you cold with this man radiating radiation the heat of a thousand suns?

No clue. But probably the anesthesia since you were in sapnap room dream just opened the closet and tossed his hoodie to your lap.

You woke up sapnap when you put on the hoodie on accident.

He pushed up against your shoulder a bit more and draped his arm over your lap.

"What's wrong?" Sapnap mumble made you stiffen up. Dream seemed to fall back to sleep too.

"Just a bit cold." He lightly nodded into your neck.

"Mmmmmm. How though."-sapnap

"I dont fuckin know."-(y/n)

He let out a sleep chuckle and seemed to fall asleep again.

You just sat there. Patches and sapnap on you lap technically.

Sapnap woke up and made you breakfast at some point. You were in and out of it due to barely any sleep.

Dream woke up as well. You didnt even know when they left. But patches stayed with you.

Those weeks you were treated the best with these two with extra cuddles from patches.

I didnt know there was a max amount of paragraphs. But hey I guess it's something you find out sooner or later. So there is going to be a part 2. Including some character I missed.

[writing-good-vibes]

brad dourif characters x reader headcanons: marriage

marriage isn't for everyone but if you did tie the knot, there is no way it wouldn't be a wild ride with all of them, one way or another. warning for smut (mild).

charles lee ray

no one could ever accuse this man of being a romantic

(except he really, really is)

legally he doesn't care if you get married or not

but you suggest it first (not a proposal) and you both mutually agree to it

then he sort of proposes (with a ring and flowers) after you've already agreed

if you want a legal marriage it would have to be before any of his murders are he is known to the police

(he's already known for petty crime but getting married would really blow his cover if he's already a wanted murderer)

you go to the nearest courthouse and have a bare minimum ceremony

he wears the nicest suit he already owns

and you go out and get a white dress that you could wear again to a bar

you sign the papers

then you consummate your love in the ladies toilets

whether you go on honeymoon depends on how much money you have at the time

either you go to a tacky wedding motel or you stay in and don't leave the apartment for a week

either way you're having a lot of sex

like seriously

jack dante

it's hard work to get him to actually go through with the wedding

he is actually the one to propose to you

after sex of course

"babe, we should like, get hitched"

he means it, he does, but maybe in a more metaphorical way??

it takes some nagging but you finally get him to go down to the courthouse with you

there is definitely a legal/financial aspect of your marriage

like he may be the wild card employee but he gets paid ludicrously well for everything he contributes to the company (and to try and keep a little bit under control)

if something happened to him (and he has no doubt one day bob might just have him bumped off) he may as well give everything to you, there's no one else for it to go to

neither of you dress up for the ceremony

but you do buy some tacky bridal lingerie to wear underneath

another bare minimum ceremony

it's not your first rodeo doing it in a public restroom

it's almost romantic, a repeat of your first time

the white lacy panties are surprisingly very appreciated

you have to convince him to move back to his old apartment together now that you're married instead of hiding away at CHAANK

he honestly probably forgets you're even married until you bring it up

billy bibbit

he proposes to you

one day while you're at home on a sunday afternoon

lay together on the couch while you read

"h-hey, i h-h-have sssomething to a-ask you"

his stutters gets a tiny bit worse and you worry something is up

"l-l-listen, I-I rrreally love y-you a-a-a-and I-" he has to pause and collect himself

but you already know what he's going to ask and you can't keep from smiling

"w-will you m-m-mmmarry me?"

you throw your book aside and throw your arms around him

"yes! yes, of course I will billy!"

billy is a good christian boy so you have a good christian church wedding (unless you have other religious/secular preferences)

it's a very small wedding

only your favourite family members and closest friends come

same with billy

he feels incredibly guilty for not inviting his mother, but he hasn't seen her since he finally discharged himself from the hospital

you reassured him and remind him that this is the start of your lives together

he looks so dapper in his suit

you help him pick it out

he insists he doesn't want to see your dress until the big day

he cries when he sees you walk up the aisle

loves calling you his wife, and you calling him husband makes him feel wanted

puts your wedding photo in every room and carries it around in his wallet

sheriff brackett

he didn't expect he'd ever find someone he'd want to marry

(what with his last marriage ending the way it did)

when he realises he's truly in love with you, and you with him, he plans his proposal

it's nothing extravagant but it's absolutely perfect

you have a romantic dinner together and he does a whole speech about how much he loves you

and you see where it's going but you let him go on for a minute until you're like "do you want to ask me something?"

he flusters about it but is very cute and finally pops the question

"i - sweetie, i'd be honoured to make you my wife, will you marry me?"

you have a church wedding (unless you have other religious/secular preferences)

close family and friends only

cries when you walk down the aisle

annie gets very invested in helping with the planning and is probably more bothered about it than either of you are

you have a (very) classy dress

loves that he can call you his wife now !! the sheriff's wife !!

reception at your house, classic buffet

lowkey you both cannot wait untl everyone just leaves

*wink wink*

you do have a first dance in private though after everyone leaves

you're both soft and giggling and the song is a cheesy love song but it's perfect

your wedding night is the height of romance

your bridal lingerie really does it for him

what better start for your marriage than him making you cum so many times that you lose count?

doc cochran

you and doc didn't think you'd get married at all

neither of you felt the need to make anything official

you both consider yourself as his common law wife anyway

but something happens (either you get pregnant or some unrest with the camp politics makes the future seem uncertain) you decide you may as well tie the knot officially

there's no real proposal, he just sort of asks

you go to the Grand where E.B (being mayor) unfortunately has to officiate

you don't intend to invite anyone, saying it is no one elses business

but people catch wind (i.e. al, trixie and jane, merrick, maybe sol and seth) and basically invite themselves

you wear your best dress

and doc doesn't half scrub up well

Al invites you both back for a drink at the gem which you accept

("only one though, al" "sure, sure, you gotta get back home - the marriage bed is waiting - I understand")

the marriage bed is waiting though and you get kind of emotional when you go home together for the first time as husband and wife

funnily enough no one shows up at doc's that night for treatment and you have the whole night to yourselves

grima wormtongue

it takes you both a long time before you admit your feelings for each other and commit to having a relationship rather than a friends with benefits situation

marriages move fairly quickly in middle earth

no sooner are you engaged are you at the alter

wedding is moderately fancy because grima is doing pretty well being the king's adviser

few people actually show up who don't have to be there though because neither of you exactly have a lot of friends

grima almost clams up when it comes the ceremony because he doesnt want to say all this personal stuff about how much he loves you in front of other people

but you both get through it and finally, finally you are properly married

he's very emotional when you consummate your marriage but he tries to hide it

(but you know him too well)

tommy ludlow

he proposes one morning after sex

it's only just getting light and you both have to get up for work soon

you're still sweaty and his face is pressed into your neck

and in hushed tones you whisper back and forth

"will you marry me?"

it takes you a second to process what he said, "you wanna get married?"

"if you'll have me"

you kiss him and whisper "yes"

it's a church wedding for you and tommy (unless you have other religious/secular preferences)

he has a pretty big extended family and he has to invite them all

your dress and his suit are second hand

(because you're saving for better things)

laura takes a lot of photos for you

including the classic confetti toss one as you leave the church

takes you ages to comb all the confetti out of tommy's hair afterwards

cheesy first dance at the wedding reception

you can tell tommy is nervous so you joke around and make sure he doesn't take it too seriously

when you get home? goddamn you ride him like there's no tomorrow

(still in your wedding dress)

leo nova

it's go big or go home with him

80s fashion at its best

your dress is worth more than the rent on your old apartment

he doesn't see it before the wedding

you're surprised at how many traditions he sticks too despite him having the emotional range of a teaspoon

not many people get an invite to the ceremony but it's a wild after party

like a bunch of coked out 80s gangsters ?? amazing

the honeymoon is next level

you go to some tropical holiday resort (caribbean, thailand or spain) and it is all sun, sex and sangria for two whole weeks

tucker cleveland

didn't think he'd want to get married again

but in reality he just didn't like his first wife all that much

takes you out to dinner and proposes

when you say yes he is honestly relieved

but because he doesn't want to get emotional he calls over the waiter to get your free dessert

courthouse wedding

you do insist he wears a suit though and you buy a white dress

does the whole "just married" thing on the back of his truck

actually takes you on a honeymoon (sort of)

you go out of state and stay in a motel for a week

(vigorous sex ensues)

now you're married good and proper you can be his good little wifey

[mono-dot-jpeg]

the antarctic idiots [pt. 2] - c!technoblade

summary; in which two anarchist piglins adopt an ender boy.

genre; child! ranboo, piglin hybrid! reader, slight canon divergence from dream smp, fluff, found family au is my shit, reader is now ranboo’s parent i don’t make the rules, techno is a grumpy father but it’s okay you love him, realistic minecraft? (idk how to describe it-)

pairing; c! technoblade x reader, platonic! ranboo x reader

word count; 1.3k

< previous - next >

a/n; yall here me out, i open my ask box to have you guys talk to the characters of the antarctic idiots,,, i just really wanna act in character, i love doing that kind of stuff kshdskjdf

i don’t completely know how it would work, but, i wanna do it someday maybe.

also, if you’re too lazy to look at my masterlist for this series or you just wanna see everything related to this story, use the #antarctic idiots tag! and if you have anything to share with me about it, tag me!

“i’ll take your word on that, y/n.”

“you should trust my words from the start, wilbur.” you commented, your voice light and teasing. “but i don’t blame you, you lost a lot after l’manburg’s citizens betrayed you.”

“they did not betray me.” 

“yes, yes, my bad.” you hummed.

“are we allies or enemies, y/n?”

“ally, enemy? i say neither. i was forced into this after all. what with that favor of yours.” you pointed out, he couldn’t even be mad at your response, he knew that you never wanted to be put in a war like this. “i may be part of pogtopia but my intentions are not the same. i will be clear that i’m only here to fight and then i will be taking my leave after this revolution.”

“yes, of course, understood.”

“now, just because we’re friends doesn’t mean i’m gonna train you with the easy stuff. you used to a president, soot, show me what you can really do. you’re stronger than you let on.” 

“i don’t expect anything less from you.”

“come on wilbur, you fought in a war, you should’ve been at least a bit stronger.” you muttered to the man before handing his some wraps to bandage his small wounds.

“i put up quite the fight though didn’t i?” he commented, starting to fix up his injuries.

“yeah, you did. you’ve certainly changed since the last time we fought.”

“techno has taught me quite a lot.”

“how do you know techno?” you asked curiously. 

“he’s my older brother, twin. actually.” you blinked. “yeah i know, we’re not really alike.”

“yeah, you’re a boar hybrid and he’s a piglin hybrid...”

“our mom is a samsung refrigerator, we don’t understand anything of how we existed.”

“fair enough..” you don’t question wilbur’s origins anymore, soon turning the conversation, “so you and techno grew up together?”

“yeah, we trained a lot together and now he’s a total master at fighting, but that’s thanks to our father.” wilbur smiled a bit, thinking about the old times. “maybe you guys should try and train together next time.” 

“i don’t think we will anytime soon. he seems rather busy with gathering resources.” you said, sitting next to wilbur as you put your pendant back on your shirt. “plus if he’s so well versed, i don’t think he’ll need any help from me. anyways, plans, what’s the plan for this whole revolution?”

“well, we plan accordingly to what info we get from tubbo. he’s shlatt’s righthand man now so he’s gonna know a lot of info which will help us out. techno and you are gonna train me and tommy of course. you guys are our wild card. our trump card. both of you are so powerful. we can take back what was ours.” wilbur looked at you, this confident glint shined in his eyes. “we will take back l’manburg.”

oh how you wished you felt the same way about l’manburg as he did.

another day passes as you live in the ravine that was pogtopia. you got accustomed to the small area rather easily. it didn’t feel too different from your own home other than maybe the cold temperatures despite how much glowstone or torches would be placed around to keep it warm. 

wilbur and tommy were busy for some odd reason, so that left you and technoblade. you weren’t the best with meeting new people and techno seemed like he was the same way, so you didn’t bother making conversation. it wasn’t until techno actually decided to speak.

“how can i trust you?”

“bold question to ask. what ever happened to, hi, how are you?” you joked a bit. “how can i trust you?” you looked at the fellow piglin hybrid who seemed to already start a staring contest with you.

“i asked first.”

“i asked second.”

“do you know who i am?”

“you are technoblade, are you not?” a beat of silence. “if you aren’t, i won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“i’m technoblade, yes, but do you know what else i am?”

“a piglin hybrid?”

“i’m the blood god.”

“interesting.” another beat of silence. you didn’t seem to show any reaction to his words which makes him wonder. were you just hiding your judgement or did you just didn’t care? “is that why wilbur and tommy recruited you for help?” 

“in a way, yes.”

“so if i were to say that they’re using you as a weapon, would i be wrong? i mean i’m just saying stuff right now. it seems like you’re really capable of doing a lot of things, technoblade.” you suddenly feel his hand against your neck. “ah- i hit a nerve. my bad.” you hummed as if you weren’t close to getting choked to death.

“don’t talk about my family like that. they would never use me.”

“so, tommy is your sibling too? didn’t see that one coming, although it seems like i didn’t really see any of this coming.” you shrugged. techno was silent, his piercing red eyes burned into your e/c ones, he was trying to analyze you. you could tell he wanted to know more, he was curious. he was cautious of you. “i’m here to finish a favor, so it would be very nice if you do not take any of my lives.” 

“i don’t trust you.”

“well, glad we could get straight to the point. i’m not really one for trust either so it’s nice to know that you feel the same way. again, i don’t really wanna be here, but again, here for a favor, i intend to keep that favor done.”

the voices in his head were buzzing, many said blood for the blood god, some said much less helpful words, a few suggested to get to know you but all of them said to not trust you. and techno listened to the few. he moved his hand back slowly. 

“who are you exactly?”

“well, as wilbur said before, i’m y/n. a piglin hybrid just like you. though, i’m pretty sure i lived in the nether much longer than you have. i live far away from the smp and l’manburg...well, manburg now. my intentions are questionable. but that’s nothing to worry about since they don’t involve you.” you explained casually. “i’m here to also train wilbur and tommy, unfortunately i have to fight in this revolution as well. who are you exactly?”

techno raised an eyebrow at your question.

“to be fair, you got to know about me, now let me know about you, piggie.” he huffs, air escaping his nose as he listens to your words. “at least we’re not killing each other. would you prefer that?”

“i’m more of a action over words person. though words can be very convincing.”

“so is that a yes or no?”

“my name is technoblade as you know from wilbur and tommy. i’m not really from the smp or manburg. i recently joined this area after ruling over antartica.” he can see your eyes sparkle a bit in amusement. “i’m just here to destroy government honestly. my intentions are very clear unlike yours.”

“that is very true, mr. blade. you seem to have your beliefs and intentions very clear. i do understand your need to end government. i can relate to that rather well surprisingly.” 

“i feel like the whole hating government thing might just be a piglin thing.” he looked at you with slightly furrowed eyebrows. “though i’m rather pleased to find someone that thinks the same way as i do.”

“see if you didn’t tell me about you, then we would’ve never found out that we both hate government. anyways, i would love to know more about you ruling antartica. then maybe you wanna try and train together?”

“you’re asking for a lot.”

“come on, mr. blade.” your voice teasing as you sit next to techno. i’ll give you some fun stories about wilbur and tommy.”

“you’re not gonna give up, are you?”

“i’m a stubborn person, what can i say?”

taglist; @justahostaccount, @olyink​, @aikochan4859​, @classycookiebailiffstudent​​, @stickk-bugg, @goldensunshineshit​, @sadlyitsme-boohoo​, @jace-the-ace12​, @2cuteforyourlies​, @lvlyjuro​, @kiinokochii​, @anxiousnarwhale​, @jaciahbabes​

[taglist closed for now]

[kentochronicles]

***SPOILERS FOR WANDAVISION EPISODE 6***

So I’m still processing everything but holy shite that ep was wild...

FIRST THINGS FIRST - WANDA, VISION, BILLY AND PIETRO ALL IN COMIC ACCURATE-ISH COSTUMES AND TOMMY IN A MINI QUICKSILVER COSTUME

PIETRO CALLING BILLY AND TOMMY DEMON SPAWN - GOD DAMMIT, IT’S MEPHISTO ISN’T IT? HOUSE OF M HERE WE COME

HERB ASKING WANDA IF SHE WANTED SOMETHING CHANGED

AGNES ASKING VISION ABOUT THE AVENGERS AND STUFF AND AT FIRST SHE SEEMED GENUINELY FREAKED OUT BUT THEN STARTED LAUGHING MANIACALLY AND I STILL DON’T TRUST HER AND AGNES BEING DRESSED AS A WITCH? AGATHA HARKNESS WAS A WITCH - COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT!

DARCY LOOKING OVER MONICA’S MED SCANS AND TELLING HER HOW THE HEX AFFECTS HER EACH TIME SHE GOES IN - IS SHE DEVELOPING HER POWERS?

PIETRO’S CORPSE - SCARED ME JUST AS MUCH AS VISION’S

MOVIES SHOWING IN THE THEATRE IN THE BACKGROUND - THE INCREDIBLES: A MOVIE BASED AROUND A SUPERHERO FAMILY AND THE PARENT TRAP: A MOVIE ABOUT TWINS WHO MEET AT CAMP AND TRY AND SET THEIR PARENTS UP

DON’T GO PAST ELLIS AVENUE - NOW I DON’T KNOW IF THIS IS A CONNECTION OR JUST A COINCIDENCE BUT ELLIS IS THE LAST NAME OF THE PRESIDENT DURING IRON MAN 3

TOMMY HAVING HIS SPEED POWERS AND BILLY HAVING HIS REALITY WARPING/TELEKINETIC POWERS - WELCOME SPEED AND WICCAN

A CALL BACK TO INFINITY WAR WHEN VISION EXITED THE HEX? SLIGHTLY DUSTING AND HE PROBABLY WON’T SURVIVE BEING OUTSIDE OF THE HEX - HE’LL JUST DIE AGAIN 🥲

I STILL DON’T TRUST HAYWARD - HE’S VERY SUS

DARCY BEING TAKEN INTO THE HEX WITH THE OTHER S.W.O.R.D AGENTS - HOPEFULLY WE CAN SEE THE OUTFITS THAT KAT DENNING’S WAS EXCITED ABOUT

I SWEAR THEY BETTER NOT STRAIGHTWASH BILLY AND TOMMY OR I WILL RIOT 😤

***FURTHER UPDATES***

So sit-com wise, it seems they were referencing Malcolm in the Middle as the twins broke the fourth wall and talked to the audience, like Malcolm did

However, the theme song has told the viewer to stop questioning the reality of Westview - which could be a little reference to Mystery Science Theatre 3000? - When Pietro first shows up in the title sequence, along with his name title card, the lyrics say “Though there may be no way of knowing who’s come to play” - Istg, I do not trust Pietro

Vision says to Wanda that he had to wear his Halloween costume because there were no other clothes in his closet, Wanda is trying to move the plot along and forcing Vision to play along

Evan Peters’ ‘Mom’ tattoo is shown, which is a tattoo he actually has in real life ! But could this stand for ‘Multiverse of Madness’ or some other red herring?

Pietro mentions to Wanda that if he had found ‘Shangri-La’ he wouldn’t want to leave either - Shangri-La is a real place on Earth-616 that was founded by a version of Vision

Tommy refers to Pietro’s speed as ‘kickass’ and then Wanda repeats that, saying ‘kickass’ again - Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Evan Peters (both versions of QuickSilver) were in Kick-Ass together

The ad for this episode was freaky af - the character on the beach who starved and decomposed could be a little nod to Indiana Jones, where a Nazi’s face melts in - and it could also be reference to Wanda being all alone and struggling to process her grief. The shark in the ad could also be Nightmare or Mephisto or just someone more powerful than Wanda offering her a new beginning with Vision or trapped her in some way - and is feeding off her magic? The flavour of the yoghurt is strawberry flavoured and strawberry’s are red on the outside and pink-ish on the inside - much like Wanda’s og costume and her magic being red 👀

Pietro and Wanda talk about their Sokovian accents at a point in the episode and how neither have them anymore. Wanda’s, as we know, has disappeared over the course of the MCU movies and Pietro’s just doesn’t exist - another nice little nod to Peter Maximoff from the fox X-Men films? Also, Pietro states that “I’m just trying to do my part, okay? Come to town unexpectedly, create tension with the brother-in-law, stir up trouble with the Rugrats (a 90’s cartoon 👀) and ultimately give you grief.” - in reference to the grief part, could Pietro be killed off again? Stir up trouble with the rugrats, being possible shards of the demon Mephisto’s soul, could this be Mephisto trying to influence them on a deeper level? It’s also many many common sitcom clichès

Pietro talks about how “I got shot like a chump on the street for no reason at all” - nice little nod to how Pietro was killed off unnecessarily and how we as a fandom still talk about how regular bullets shouldn’t have killed him

Herb is dressed as Frankenstein’s monster - Dr. Frankenstein created his monster and soon lost control over him, and he was created using electricity or lightning - much like Vision was created and brought to life by Thor using Mjolnïr to bring lightning down to his incubator thingy majig. Could this also be a reference to either Wanda slowly losing control over Westview or someone else controlling Wanda/controlling the citizens of Westview - we saw in episode 3 that Agnes told Herb to be quiet as it seemed he was about to spill the beans 👀

Vision goes towards Ellis avenue and is at a ‘crossroads’ of sorts - in folklore, crossroads are often used to speak to or summon the devil and are also used when an important character is making a decision that could change everything. He spots some citizens repeating certain actions and/or just standing completely still, could these be npc’s (non playable characters)? And now that the barrier of the Hex has spread, will those citizens now start to move? 👀 Also I know that all stop signs look like it, but the stop sign is also a red hexagon 🛑

Darcy scrolls through Hayward’s computer files and goes past a file called “Project C4-113” - it could reference Avengers Issue #113 in which Wanda and Vision both appear on the cover and she says she’s going to make the world pay for Vision’s death. There’s also another file called “Project M5-247” which could be a nod to Avengers Issue #247, which shows the origin of the Eternals and in the same vein, Scarlet Witch and Vision trying to help Captain Marvel. And when Darcy emails Hayward’s cataract plans, you can see the names of “James Alexander and James Gadd” - James Alexander is a visual effects producer on Wandavision and James Gadd works on post production at Marvel

Also: Agnes pulls as Mrs Hart and repeats the same phrase over and over again

After Wanda blasts Pietro, you can see on a fake grave stone the name of “Janell Sammelman”, Janell is a first assistant director on Wandavision

When Wanda moves Westview to save Vision, she turns S.W.O.R.D and it’s agents into clowns + a circus - I just love that the agents turned into clowns 😂 but there is a nice little plot line in the comics where Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver and Hawkeye join the circus - and this COULD be stretch, but earlier in the episode there is the number #22 which could be Avengers Issue #22, which is the Issue that they join the circus

As soon as Vision was brought back into Westview, he was healed - which means if he was to exit again, he probably wouldn’t survive 😭

The episode title is ‘All-New Halloween Spooktackular!” - which “All-New” is a designation that is often used on covers for comic books. And the first issue of the second The Vision and the Scarlet Witch series takes place on Halloween night - but the events in this comics didn’t influence this episode’s plot

Pietro points out that he has the “XY chromosome” - X for X-Men? Plus there’s the X gene 😂

He mentions “Uncle Peter to the rescue” - Peter is the name of Quicksilver from the Fox X-Men Franchise

Pietro and Tommy quote the movie Top Gun (1986) by saying “I fell the need, the need for speed”

Wanda almost seems hesitant to trust this version of Pietro (rightfully so, in my opinion) and is wary of him being around Tommy and Billy

Pietro says some very Mephisto/Nightmare-like things this episode - “Unleash hell, demon spawn!”, “The kids need a father figure”, “Damnit, if Westview isn’t charming as Hell...” - And if Pietro isn’t Mephisto/Nightmare, it HAS to be Agnes or her other half Ralph and Pietro is probably Ralph tbh...or could Pietro just be a scapegoat and Hayward is Ralph? 👀

The theatre in town, which is playing the Incredibles and The Parent Trap, is called the Coronet. There’s a classic poem called “The Coronet” written by Andrew MARVELL (Marvell, is also the true name of the first incarnation of Captain Marvel in the comics) and is about a guy who knows that the sins of mankind led to the death of Christ. He attempts to create a new crown for Christ’s head in an attempt to atone, but finds that there is sin in the crown as well, as the devil is within the crown and therefore he may achieve glory and success with his new creation 👀

Hayward’s confidential project “Cataract” included experimenting on Vision’s body, as was revealed by Darcy (my wife 💙 and Monica is also my wife 💚 and so is Wanda 💛, I just love women, you know? 😂). A cataract is a cloudy area in the lens of the eye that leads to a decrease in vision - is Hayward trying to weaponise Vision? Or maybe even trying to bring Ultron back? Or do what Tony wanted to do in the first place, and make a suit of armour that’s around the world? Either way, it’s for nefarious purposes

Who is Monica’s guy? Jimmy and Monica are off to meet him - could it be Reed Richards (Mr Fantastic)? Or could it be Victor Von Doom (Dr Doom)? Could it be Hank McCoy (Beast)? Or even Adam Brashear (Blue Marvel)? Or if it is a woman, could it be the Skrull daughter of Talos that Monica befriended at the end of Captain Marvel? Could it be Abigail Brand (A major character in recent S.W.O.R.D comics and an Alpha Flight Member)? Or even Toni Ho (Iron Patriot, and could she be introduced to help lay the ground work for my other queen, Riri Williams/Iron Heart?)? Or could it even be Sue Storm (Invisible Woman)?

In the background of the episode we see a number of children and adults dressed up as many different characters, which includes: Sub-Zero from Mortal Kombat, Jason Voorhees, with a sweater striped like Freddy Krueger’s and even a kid that looks dressed in an off-brand Charizard costume 😂 Pokèmon has always been popular, but saw an increase during the 90’s

Pietro and the kids are drinking “Kane Cola” which could be a reference to the 90’s drinks “Jolt Cola” or even “Surge” - it could also, with all the X-Men Easter eggs, be a reference to Garrison Kane, who was a member of Cable’s mercenary team “Six Pack” and is sometimes also known as ‘Weapon X’

The kid that Wanda mentions having a “skin thing” in the orphanage - could that be a reference to her Brotherhood of Evil Mutants co-worker Toad? Or maybe even Mystique? Maybe Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)?

One of the houses has a sign up that says ‘Macabre Mansion’ - another possible reference to House of M?

During a flashback, it’s shown that the twins are playing Dance Dance Revolution, which came out in 1999. Also this might be a stretch, but the boys have a dog plushie in their room the right - which is coloured red and black - could this be a reference to Dogpool? 😂

I love this show 🤣💙

[raisans-art]

What the Fuck Are these Characterizations: The Essay

Full warning: This is only concerning Tommy's stream made today, 4/29/2021. I know Ranboo has streamed after Tommy but I haven't watched that.

On with the essay.

A lot happened.

Tommy tried to kill Dream, Dream actually killed Ghostbur, Wilbur is back (pog). It's a lot. A lot of plot and a lot of emotions. I will preface this with the usual "holy hell these people are pretty damn good actors for having no formal training as far as I'm aware." They get their emotions across very clearly and that's kinda why I'm making this in the first place. The way some of the characters acted in Tommy's 4/29 stream is a bit odd in my opinion.

Now, I will concede that I have not been diligent with the Dream SMP lore. I've been given broad strokes and have seen various clips but I have definitely not been on top of it. I may have missed streams entirely and you all more avid fans may be able to name scenes that I haven't seen that rationalize some of these reactions that I will be criticizing. If you can, please do so! I'd love to start a dialogue over this!

So, how I'm gonna break this all up is to take a look at Tommy, Wilbur, Ranboo, and Awesamdude and how their CCs characterized them during the stream. I'll sing praises where they are due and point out my criticisms where they arise. Then, I will try to surmise some meta as to why I think these characterizations came to be in the first place.

Tommy

Tommy, to me, has the best characterization in this. CC Tommy clearly has a very good sense of what he wants from his character and has been playing into that line of thought from the beginning of this whole debacle.

Tommy is scared, paranoid, and pissed off. Ever since he left the prison he avoids taking damage like the plague, rambles indecisively, is easily sent into a panic, and is hypersensitive to the people around him. He panics when he sees weapons out and one crucial thing that he made clear from the start was that he wants Dream dead.

Straight out of limbo, Tommy concludes that Dream needs to die. From there he plans this whole mission with Ranboo, Tubbo, and Ghostbur to get in and kill Dream. He says that Dream can't keep living with this power at his fingertips, and from before his final death, Tommy clearly wants to be rid of his abuser, adding a personal layer to his plan. Tommy is stubborn and determined since the beginning, sacrificing his life and disks for L'manberg and refusing to believe that his home is gone until the place is blown to bedrock. Of course, he would stick to his plan to a T.

Now, is this a smart decision to sneak into the highest security area in the entire SMP? Fuck no. It's a stupid idea. Even if Tommy hadn't messed up, Sam would've seen Dream die to a floating axe and kept Tommy and Ghostbur in that containment cell. It would've been a one-way ticket, especially given what we see of Sam in this stream.

But this all makes sense for the character CC Tommy is playing. Tommy isn't thinking about how smart of a decision this is and he hardly ever does when he takes action. He shoots from the hip, takes his first instincts, and acts on them.

It's easy to draw a clear line of progression of Tommy as a character from season 1 to this moment in season 3 and past Ghostbur's death. His hyperventilating as he tries to get his plan to work after it failed, Trying to save Ghostbur from what he went through, lashing out at Sam, and yelling at Wilbur. All of this in line with who Tommy is as a character and how events have changed him. This is a good characterization.

Wilbur

Wilbur has changed a lot since we've seen him last, both alive and dead. Since he's been alive, Wilbur has changed his tune from "I want to die" to "hell sucks, mate." What's particularly interesting is that this sentiment that he has from being alive carried for a long time into his limbo, as evidenced by his appearance in the season 2 finale on the bench. He wanted to "stay dead" at that point. Since we've seen him in limbo, he's gone from content in his situation and understanding why he's there and that he's there forever.

Now we have Revivedbur. Revivedbur is ecstatic to be alive again. He goes from numb to embracing feeling again. The fandom once thought that Revivedbur would be annoyed with or hateful towards Dream for bringing him back turned into joy and reverence. This is quite a drastic leap. Bad characterization.

But it isn't.

I have seen one clip from Ranboo's stream on 4/29 and that is Ranboo telling Philza that Wilbur is alive. In this bit, after mentioning that Wilbur has been in limbo for a perceived 13 and a half years, Phil says "13 years is a long time to be away... he almost certainly isn't the same person... people can change quite a lot in a single year, two years, three years, four years, even five years, Ranboo."

Wilbur has been gone for 13 years. He's been in the same place with no change other than Tommy for 13 fucking years. That's 13 years where we heard from him 2 times. We know virtually nothing about what those 13 years were like for him, but from what Wilbur has said, it was torture to him. He was stagnant, stuck in a fucking tube station for 13 years, unable to leave no matter how hard he tried.

We know so little about how his time in limbo changed him because it's such a long span of time with radio silence. I dare say this is fucking great characterization.

Ranboo

This is where I start having some issues, and this is where I have the least amount of context. From what I've seen, Ranboo is little miss angst who forgets things and is constantly on the verge of having a panic attack (hyperbole). From what I have surmised of his character in various contexts, serious and dramatic scenes and domestic ones, Ranboo really cares about the people around him and is scared of himself and his mind.

So why is it that he straight up just sneers at Tommy, saying "the hell did you do?"

I'm really just focusing on this because it just seems really off to me in the context of his character. Ranboo was in on this plan. It's pretty common knowledge that the only person with revive powers is Dream. Ranboo doesn't know everything that happened within the prison, sure, but why is he so quick to assume that Tommy was the root cause? Is it because he's been hanging out with the world's 2nd biggest Tommy hater, Niki (the character for clarification)? I honestly don't know where this jump-in assumption is coming from. Given what I understand of his character, this line and the implications I'm getting are just a bit out of character. Feel free to explain why I'm wrong because I am not in this loop whatsoever.

Awesamdude

Sam is where I have the biggest issue. How does a man go from living on an isolated island in grief over a death he could've prevented if only he had been quicker, to yelling at that same formerly dead person that he was at fault for the death/revival of another person?

Now, one thing that is strengthened by this characterization is Sam's dedication to the rules. He has his strict protocol and he is not going to let that slip up for anything. He wants to keep Dream in prison and never let him out.

But I'm just having a hard time grappling with a man so quick to blame himself last time something like this happened being so quick to place blame on a child he, from what I've seen, had a good relationship with. It feels like I'm missing something here.

Yeah, Tommy broke into the prison, but why is Sam's first thought that Tommy was trying to break dream out? This harsh turn on Tommy just doesn't come across right to me.

Why Did This Happen?

I do think there could be a meta reason as to why these don't land right to me. These two characterizations are centered around Tommy. How people are reacting to Tommy's actions. Tommy and Dream are the head of the prison stuff right now. at least as far as I know. I'm not sure if Wilbur has come back on as a writer yet but last I heard it's still Tommy and Dream handling their shit. With the writers in mind, I wouldn't put it past them to decide to add more conflict with Tommy and other members of the SMP right now. The Egg is a bit busy with other things, Jack is just running the hotel, and the Syndicate doesn't really have any qualms with Tommy on any level that they would act on. It could be the writers trying to add conflict to the prison storyline by generating conflict between Tommy, Ranboo, and Sam with Wilbur being a fuckin wild card.

I don't know mate, I just wanted my thoughts out there and maybe be fucking pounded into the ground by people more knowledgeable than me.

Have a dialogue with me I'd love to debate. (All friendly debate please I don't feel like taking this too seriously it is Minecraft roleplay after all.)

[songtoyou]

Tempting Fate - Part One

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,272

Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone.

A/N: What can I say? Tommy Shelby is continuing to demand all of my attention. The man is needy. Here is my first Tommy x Reader fic. There is no Grace or Greta in this fic. They do not exist in the realm of this alternate universe. Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission. 

Italics represent flashbacks.

Uncle Charlie used to say, “Fate brings natural order within the Universe. It cannot be changed, despite how hard we may try. We cannot ignore our life calling, Tommy.”

With Aunty Polly, she would tell her nephew, Thomas, “A person’s destiny can change through courage, compassion, and sheer willpower. You must have patience if you want to change your destiny. When one takes responsibility for their own life, they are choosing to shape their destiny actively. Never leave anything up to Fate, which provides no mental or emotional growth.”

Thomas Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders, CEO of Shelby Company Limited, could not fathom how you quickly infiltrated his life. You showed up one day out of the blue at The Garrison, asking Arthur for a job as a barmaid. Without so much as sitting you down for an interview, Arthur immediately gave you the job, much to Tommy’s dismay. He took one look at you and knew you were trouble.

“Arthur, it is important to conduct standard business practices, such as taking the time to interview potential new employees. What do you know about this new barmaid that you so happily hired?” Tommy grilled his older brother.

“Tommy, she is harmless, trust me. Plus, I did interview her before hiring.”

“Really, what did you ask her?” Tommy questioned, lighting a new cigarette.

“Which is better: Irish whiskey or Scotch whiskey? She answered correctly with Irish whiskey,” Arthur replied with a sheepish grin on his face. He felt that Tommy was being ridiculous and asked Tommy to give you a chance.

Standing up from the table, Tommy gulped down the last of his whiskey, and said pointing to John and Arthur, “Keep a close eye on her, the both of you.”

When Tommy left, John turned to Arthur and asked, “Why is he so spooked over a new barmaid?”

“Beats me.”

Later that night, Tommy returned to The Garrison; the usual rowdy patrons were all inside. He took his spot at his standard table in the back. Tommy lit up a cigarette and leaned his head back on the wall, eyes closed. A business deal he conducted earlier did not go as planned, which left him feeling more on edge.

“Can I get you anything to drink, Mr. Shelby?” a feminine voice spoke up.

Tommy did not need to open his eyes to know it was you, the new barmaid.

“Irish whiskey,” he ordered without so much as looking at you.

“Right away, sir.”

Tommy noticed you had a slight sing-song effect to your voice; it was not too unpleasant to his ears.

When you returned with his drink, Tommy opened his eyes to get a good look at you. There was nothing too extraordinary about you. Average height, average built. However, it was your eyes that were wild. You were not a person to be tamed, Tommy noted. The other aspect that stood out to him about you was your hair and how unruly it appeared. A set of braids ran along the right side of your head. Individual strands of hair were intricately braided with ribbons.

“You’re a gypsy,” Tommy remarked. “What’s your name?”

When you told him your first name, Tommy shook his head, “No, your last name. What clan are you from?”

There was no point in lying or running away now. “Young. From Cambridgeshire, sir. I should be getting back to the other patrons.”

“Take a seat,” instructed Tommy pulling out a seat with his boot. “And what are you doing up here in Small Heath?”

You took in a deep breath and answered, “I didn’t want to be where I was.” You motioned towards his pack of cigarettes and offered one to you. The first drag seemed to help calm your nerves, so you went on, “I wasn’t born a gypsy, you know. My parents found me when I was a baby, alone and abandoned along the river. They took me in and raised me as their own, along with my brothers and sisters. Never treated any different. It didn’t matter to them that I didn’t have the blood of a Young running through my veins; I was one of them. But I wanted to be on my own for a while. I need to figure some things out before I head back. Does any of this help put you at ease about me, Mr. Shelby?”

Tommy smirked, “I’m never at ease, darling. You better get back to work, it’s Friday, and the patrons can get a tad rowdy if they don’t get their pints promptly.”

With one last drag, you stubbed out your cigarette and left the table without much as a goodbye. Retreating behind the bar, you took over the drink pouring from Harry. You looked over at the man in the faraway booth from time-to-time. You saw how he made little to no effort to socialize with the other folks in the pub. The only time he did talk was when either Arthur or John stopped by his table to bring him a drink or partake in small chitchat.

While Tommy continued to chain smoke and drown his sorrows in whiskey, he sat back and watched you. He saw that you developed a friendly camaraderie with the customers and could keep them in line when things turned heated. You had no qualms with giving Arthur and John a hard time; both men appeared to relish in your attention. The more time Tommy watched you, the more he was able to see your attractiveness.

Nevertheless, he still pegged you as trouble. No one in their right mind would ever choose to come to Small Heath willingly. You were up to something, and Tommy was determined to find out why you were here.

Tommy would not comprehend when he’d eventually find out why you were in Small Heath because destiny brought you.

You were here to find your soulmate. One of the Elders in your clan told you that your destiny, the man you were to be with, was up north. The Elder, named Diana, described Small Heath, Birmingham, in her dream about you and the still unknown man.

“I don’t believe in destiny,” you told Diana.

“You should, child. It is what brought you to us. You are meant to be a Young. Everyone has a soulmate, a person they are destined to be with. Do you really want to miss out on finding him? He could be out there waiting for you?”

You merely scoffed, “Why do I have to find him? Why can’t he come and find me? Why do I have to put in all the work?”

Diana looked down at her tarot cards to reassess. “It is complicated, dear. Love is not as easy as one might hope. There is darkness one has to overcome to see the light.”

“None of that helps me. Can you give me anything on what this man looks like?”

With a smile, Diana let out a chuckle, “Child, you will know when you know. Just listen to your heart.”

You never believed in soulmates. You felt it was a term that was overused. A person can have a connection with different people that all have a purpose in their life. For you, it was how this person coming into your life would make it different? A soulmate is not someone who is a perfect fit. A soulmate is someone who can show the things that are holding you back from the goals you want to achieve. It is someone who can change your life, for better or worse. A soulmate is someone you cannot fool.

[tamagoincident]

To Lure a Bird

arthur morgan x reader

summary: The Van der Linde Gang plans to rob a train, too bad you hit it first. You, being the reasonable person you are, coerce rough-looking men to run a job with you in exchange for the stolen money, and everyone gets more than they bargained for.

chapter: 2/10

link: AO3

Chapter Two - The Man Who Makes All the Decisions

Chapter content warning: brief encounter of sexual harassment

You awoke gasping in the night, heart pumping, heaving in lungfuls of stale air. The darkness of the Saints Hotel room pressed close. You’d dreamt about Emma and Henry again. 

Frightened as you were, you whispered to yourself that you were safe, that the dampness upon your brow was perspiration, and not the spatter of blood from Henry’s gunshot wound. That the screams seeping from the peeling walls were not Emma’s, but recalled from the etchings of your memory. You collapsed back onto the sheets and pulled the blanket over your shoulders, shuddering hard against the nausea prickling in your stomach and praying for sleep to find you once more.

—

Arthur stood at the bar in Smithfield’s Saloon, casual in the way he leaned over it. How at ease he appeared, unapologetic in his taking space. You choked on your envy, allowing yourself to wonder what it’s like to do whatever you wanted, wherever you pleased, unescorted. This feeling climbed as the man seated closest to the entrance pulled his chair out fully in your direction, reclining with his thighs spread. You tightened your grip on the handle of your travel bag and kept your revulsion from showing too much. Folk like that chased any sort of reaction, like they chased down drink after drink.

Ernest waved you over, having noticed how quiet the room fell when you’d walked in through the swinging doors. Arthur remained fixated on his glass despite the change in atmosphere, spinning it idly atop the nicked wood, taking more stock in it than in his surroundings. His voice cut across the idle chatter from the tables. “You even wash these?”

“Funny you ask,” Ernest said, wiping down the bar with a rag. “We’re in the market for a dishwasher. You look right fit for the job.” He abandoned his task at your approach to reach towards one of the dozens of bottles lining the shelves behind him, but you held up a hand to stop him. You needed your full wits to do something as illogical as you were about to, potentially letting a stranger lead you to God-Knows-Where to meet God-Knows-Who, with the pistol shoved in your right boot acting as your sole reassurance.

“So you’re a comedian now, mister? Didn’t realize I was getting dinner and a goddamn show.” Arthur knocked back his shot of whiskey and put the glass down on the bar. You set your bag at your feet and settled yourself in the space beside him. Through the aroma of decades of liquor soaked into the timber of the saloon, you caught a whiff of soap and freshly scrubbed skin. 

“Cursin’ in front of women,” Ernest said, acknowledging you. “Ain't your daddy ever taught you manners?”

“Say that again,” Arthur growled and smacked both palms on the counter, moments away from hopping over it. You cleared your throat before he could hitch a leg up. He turned and froze, as if it surprised him that anyone else was in the saloon at all, let alone you in your best (and only) dress.

The disturbance had caused a bit of rubbernecking your way. While Ernest rattling the clients was always an entertaining diversion, (and privately, you would have seized the opportunity to see Arthur try to throttle him, the mountain of a man Ernest was) an all-out saloon-brawl was counterproductive to anything you’d arrived there to do. The situation had to be defused, and fast.

“I’m not a delicate flower, I won’t wilt from a little profanity,” you said. “It didn’t offend me to hear him swear the first time we’d met, and it doesn’t offend me now.”

Arthur looked at you. His expression turned from confused to even more confused. Clearly he hadn’t recognized you from your previous encounter. Taking pity on him, you helpfully concealed your nose and mouth with your sleeve, resembling the scarf you’d worn when he met you. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. You dug four bits from your skirt pockets, sliding them onto the counter to Ernest. “For this man’s next drink.”

“Couldn’t tell it was you without the get-up you was wearing the last time,” Arthur grumbled, and accepted the second shot of whiskey, placated for now, “or without the rifle.”

The rifle wasn’t concealable, and it hadn’t fit in the bag with your other travel necessities, so you left it with Ernest. You’d come back to Valentine to retrieve it later, at the right moment, along with half of the train score you had hidden away in a lockbox. “Had to try to look somewhat respectable for a negotiation. If there will be a negotiation, that is. Didn’t want to show up in my dusty travel clothes.”

“You look naïve, and an easy target to swindle,” he said, sparing a glance toward Ernest, who only cocked an eyebrow in response. Arthur cleared his throat. “Not that I’d do something like that. You see, I’m an itinerant worker, laid off from a factory—”

“Save it, please,” you said. “I’m not interested in divining who you really are or where you’ve come from. What I am interested in is whether you can help me with that offer we discussed. From your countenance, I assume your friend decided to take me up on it, against your better judgment.”

“What’s wrong with my countenance?”

“You’re scowling.”

“I ain’t,” he said, scowling. You put your hands up, conceding.

“He said he’d meet with you,” Arthur said. He brought the glass up to his lips. “Still decidin’ if I want to spin him a tale that I came to Valentine, but you never showed. Or, I could just rob you. I don’t think he’d mind that as much.”

“You just said you wouldn’t swindle me,” you accused.

The corner of Arthur’s mouth twitched, as if he wanted to laugh, but didn’t wish to act on it for fear of appearing too amicable. “You said we’d get half the money upfront?”

“Yes. You’ll get half if we can come to an agreement, and the other half once Emma is home safe.”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Arthur said. “We already went through an ordeal with that train, risking our skin to come up empty-handed. Now you want to pay us to risk it again with the score which should’ve been ours in the first place. This might end up being more trouble than it’s worth even with the seventy dollars you promised on top of it.”

“Hey lady, how much for your company?” A grunting voice emerged from behind you. You ignored it, too immersed in assessing the value of all your worldly possessions, your rifle among the other trinkets you had stashed away in different locations. You didn’t own land or assets to sell or put up for a loan. The single thing of monetary value in your possession was Henry’s wedding ring, and you’d hang before pawning that off. It’d been his dying request to return it to Emma. They’d only been married for five months when he was killed.

“I said, how much?”

Ernest jabbed his finger at him. “You best shut your mouth and sit back down ‘fore I drag you out of here, you drunken fool.”

 “Weren’t talkin’ to you.” A hand clapped on your right shoulder, jerking you backwards. “I was talkin’ to this uppity bitch—”

You only had a brief moment to recognize the man as the one from earlier who’d leered at you. In the next second, he was flat on the ground, clutching his newly crooked nose. Arthur was towering over him, shaking out the soreness of the impact from his hand. He bent down and, without so much as a word, wiped his bloodstained knuckles on the howling degenerate’s shirt. Apart from his slightly mussed hair and the wild promise of barely restrained ire lurking in his eyes, an eerie calmness rolled off of him.

So much for preventing a brawl. 

“You broke it! You fuckin’ broke it!”

“Hey,” someone piped up from the cards table. “Ain’t that the feller who damn near beat Tommy to death the other day when Hubert was workin’?”

“That was you Hubert was talkin’ about?” Ernest said to Arthur. “You owe us money for the window you smashed through, my friend.”

“How much was it to replace?” you said. “I can pay—”

More wailing. “I’m gonna skin you alive!”

“You know, Tommy ain’t been right since,” another person called out. “He may be an imbecile, but he’s our imbecile! You think it’s fun beatin’ on all of us?”

People were getting out of their seats. “Yeah!”

“Let’s go,” Arthur barked at you amid the jeering.

“My bag—” you said, surveying around your feet for your belongings. In the chaos, Arthur had grabbed it for you and was heading to the door. You struggled not to trip over your skirts in pursuit, casting one last apologetic look to Ernest, who seemed like he wanted to go after you. 

Arthur stood outside, unhitching his horse from the post. The temptation arose to make a jest, to smooth the terse silence with something guaranteed to irritate him further. You swallowed it and instead listened to the bustle of wagons and barking of stray dogs. 

“Grab your horse,” he said. “You can follow me. We got a bit of a ride south from here. Can’t for the life of me figure out why he wants me to lead you to camp, but I’m tired of arguin’ with him.”

You wondered who exactly Arthur was referring to. At the Trading Post, he’d hinted at a leader of sorts, the one who had yet to be named. You thought to ask for it, but there was a more pressing issue at hand. “I don’t have a horse. Not since my last one ran off.”

“She doesn’t own a horse,” he said to no one in particular, a moment of exasperation to the universe perhaps, if you had to guess. “How the hell you been getting around? Hot-air balloon?”

“Much less exciting than that, I’m afraid. Trains and stagecoaches. Sometimes I borrow a horse from Ernest. Sometimes I ‘borrow’ from strangers and return their horses before they’re missed.”

“I’m not even gonna pretend all that trouble you put yourself up to makes any sense,” Arthur grunted in response, strapping your bag to his saddle. “Alright, then. Come here.”

You didn’t move. In your hesitation, you considered beginning your rescue plan anew, using the train money to pay for hired guns, which you had wanted to avoid. If the first meeting between the two of you had gone well, the incident in the saloon had gone every bit as astray. But Arthur had intervened on your behalf, which you appreciated, regardless of the issue it had caused. You thought if there was any chance of a man caring whether or not Emma made it back alive, he was it. And there was the small detail of the score you lifted off his hands. You imagined it wouldn’t go over well if you offered it to another group.

Arthur placed the tip of his boot in the stirrup and hoisted himself up and over the saddle. He lowered his hand. This, you accepted with thanks and up you went onto the back of the horse. At this proximity, the scent of soap you’d noticed in the saloon was stronger. You couldn’t remember the last time you met a man who bathed with any regularity, let alone bathed at all.

“Might want to hold on to somethin’,” Arthur murmured. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the cantle as the horse fell into a trot. 

And off you both went, past the gun shop and the train station, the muddy roads shifting into dusty trails the further Valentine receded from view. You were glad to quit the miserable little town if only for a moment, and though you hadn’t any high expectations for your destination, you hoped it smelled better.

“You mentioned you’re taking me to a camp. How big is it?” you asked.

“Suppose you’ll find out soon enough,” came the curt reply. 

“Then, how many people are with you? Besides you and your friend.”

“Ain't you full of questions,” Arthur said. The pistol hidden in your boot felt heavier. It might be enough to fend off several people if they decided to take back by force what they believed to be theirs, but an entire camp? You reprimanded yourself for not thinking this whole thing through.

The horse veered left. Though you sat quietly, your mind was rife with uneasy thoughts. The sun blazed high in the sky, but it would soon begin its descent. You wish you’d asked to meet earlier, having not considered where you would lay your head down tonight, especially if your offer was declined. In all likelihood you’d end up sleeping propped up against a tree in the good company of hungry mosquitoes. Or hitching a twilight ride back to the Saints Hotel with some shifty wagoner. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d done either.

Arthur said something, which you were too deeply absorbed in your misgivings to have caught. You asked him to repeat himself. “I said, it’s not too much further now.” 

The horse picked up its pace. Suddenly you were aware of the soreness in your biceps from straining to grip the back of the saddle. Squeezing your thighs harder to maintain balance, you wrapped your arms around Arthur’s torso. If the unexpected contact startled him, he did not show it.

“I never thanked you earlier,” you said.

“For what?”

“Quieting that fellow back in the saloon.”

“I reckon you could’ve done it yourself. One minute you’re firin’ a rifle in my direction. Next, you’ve gone all feeble and quiet.”

“If I rose hell whenever someone pestered me, sir, I wouldn’t be here to pester you.”

This earned you a laugh. You felt sorry you weren’t able to see it. “It’s Arthur Morgan,” he corrected. 

Arthur Morgan. You’d known to call him Arthur from that friend Marston of his, but now that you knew both names, you thought it sounded familiar. You racked your recent memory for it, coming up empty. It was a common enough name, anyway. 

“You ain’t told me your name,” he added.

“That’s right, Mr. Morgan. I didn’t,” you said. And that was that.

—

“Coming through,” Arthur shouts as the horse slows. You crane your head to see who he’s speaking to when you spotted a man stepping into the clearing, adjusting the bowler hat atop his head with his left hand and swinging a rifle with his right. Your arms slipped away from around Arthur’s waist, back to gripping the cantle for support.

“My my, what’s this? Returning with a girl before the sun goes down,” he says with a wide grin. “You’re getting romantic in your old age.”

Arthur groaned. “Do you ever shut up? You fill every waking moment with your nonsense.”

The grin grew impossibly wider. Tilting his head up towards you and Arthur, you were just close enough to make out this man’s freckles beneath the shadow cast by his hat’s brim. “I’ve plenty of time for peace and quiet when I’m six feet under.”

“Just another reason to hasten you there,” Arthur said, then, softly to his horse, “Come on, girl.”

“He doesn’t really mean that, you know. He loves me,” the man called as you passed by, “Isn’t that right, Arthur? Like an older brother, I’d say!”

The horse stopped at a hitching station just beyond the camp entrance. Off you went from the rear of it, lowering yourself until your boots hit the grass. “Quite the lively introduction,” you said to Arthur.

“That boy is too busy cracking jokes and chasing skirts to do much of anything useful,” he said, dismounting. 

“He’s amusing,” you said. “It’s a breath of fresh air from all the prickly folks around these parts. Look at them wrong and they’ll be twitching for their gun.”

“About as amusing as an insect buzzing in your ear.” Arthur led you to a table, gesturing to the folding stools. “You can sit here a moment. And don’t talk to no one.”

You peered down at the tabletop, noticing copper stains that had long seeped into the wood. “Is that blood?”

Arthur shrugged. “Or you can stand, if that’s your preference.”

You tracked him as he made his way straight to the center of camp, to the largest of the surrounding fixtures, a cream-colored tent that stood proudly over all the rest, watchful. He stopped at the entrance, waiting for the dark figure inside to turn towards Arthur as they stooped slightly, perhaps to grab something. 

The figure emerged finally, joining Arthur outside of the tent’s shade. Sunlight beamed against glittering rings on fingers wrapped around a smoking cigar. You squinted.

Oh God, you thought. That’s Dutch van der Linde. You read about him in the New Hanover Gazette. Your mind ran miles per second as you put bits of information together. You had passed his face on wanted posters during your travels, passed Arthur’s too, lingering above a five-thousand dollar reward for one of the largest heists in Blackwater history. A heist that had seen a dozen or more people dead. And now you were in their camp, a camp that bounty hunters across several states would pay a pretty penny to find.

Those wanted faces turned to you. Arthur waved you over. Your legs grew heavy, rooting themselves to the ground. You had a decision to make.

[murderousginger]

Where is your boy tonight?

John Shelby x Russian Maid

Warnings: Alcohol. Drugs. Cussing. Explicit. It’s a Russian orgy party. They’re criminals guys, they do bad things.

Word Count: 3,432

Note: ... Well this went raunchy fast. I’m not a smut writer... so like... I’m sorry ahead of time. I’m posting this before I lose my nerve. In other news, I see you John girls, and I absolutely adore you. I’ll be working on prompts as quickly as I can. <3

"Remember ladies,"

Tatiana Patrovna strutted around the room of half dressed women in her lace lingerie, running her fingers along one maid's back as she bent over to put on stockings, across another maid's arm as she straightened her skirts, looking over each and every woman. Each woman had to be perfect. The princess resembled a general overlooking her troops before war. In a way, Anna supposed she was. 

"These men don't know Russian women. They think women are soft. Vulnerable." 

Tatiana's wild eyes danced along every strap, every lace garment, every painted face in front of her. The duchess had hired the best whores as maids, and paid them well when the entire family left Russia to come to England. 

The staff already knew what was expected of them. The family was rich, bored. Bored Russian royalty was dangerous. The staff sated every whim. England would have crumbled by now if not, Anna mused as she watched Tatiana flit between each girl. She was already bored of this pep talk.

"Be who they want you to be," Tatiana's wide eyes shone dark as they darted around the room. "But when they cry in passion, learn from them. Then bring it to me."

Tonight was not a regular night. Three brothers were to join the festivities and every woman was to be on guard. Men often talked when their balls were empty and the lights were low. Men told secrets they wouldn't admit under torture. Men were weak that way. 

Anna was just another maid. Another whore brought over from the old country, here to entertain the wild family and whomever else she was instructed to. She had been with them for years, watching the parties grow wilder with each passing phase. 

In England, the family no longer seemed bored. Instead, they seemed like they could no longer return to what society would deem a normal life. Too many orgies, too many nights with a gun to their head laughing and hoping to find the correct chamber, too often feeling the rush of adrenaline and subsequent crash of psyche that came with the roaring highs of the drugs and sex. They were unhinged, mad with power, and she had decided long ago that she was fine with watching it play out. 

Anna's dark hair and features that were common back home held a sense of wrongness in England. They stuck out against those that looked carefully enough. So far she has only been allowed outside of the house once, to get food from the market. Her dark eyes had watched all of the England common folk bustle about with curiosity. How did they live in comparison? 

She had eyed a man with a fruit stand, watching him carefully as she traced over the options with her lithe fingers. He had nodded good morning to her and she smiled, lifting an apple from the stand and taking a large bite. She rolled the sweet fruit over her tongue as she decided to play with him. Why? Because why not. 

He started to tell her the price of the apple, and she gulped the bite down, playfully spreading the apple juices that ran down her hand along her exposed throat. Now it was his turn to gulp. 

She came back from the market late, with a bag of apples that she did not pay for and the knowledge that English men were far easier than she had imagined.

"Anna," Tatiana snapped, and she jerked her head out of her daydreams. "What did I say?"

Anna assessed the woman in front of her as she hiked her leg onto a chair to put her stockings on. She did not bother to have them perfect; they wouldn't be on long anyway. Tatiana watched her with cold eyes as she stepped in between her legs, her fingers dancing along Anna's knee and up the stocking to her inner thigh. Her fingers lazily played with the fabric between her legs as she waited for an answer. 

"You want us to fuck the three Englishmen within an inch of their lives, so they are ruined from their wives and tell us every boring secret they have," Anna sounded, completely ignoring the cool fingers that traced her. 

"No."

Tatiana teasing fingers swatted her. Anna flinched as the princess turned away and walked into the middle of the room. 

"I said, the leader, the one that goes by Thomas, is mine."

Tatiana glared at every woman in the room, waiting for defiance. None spoke up. 

"The other two, do whatever they want," she waved away the harshness she had just possessed. "What might blow their mind could be silly to you. Do it anyway, and do it with ferver."

A round of mumbled agreements echoed. The princess nodded, more to herself than the girls, and left without another word. The men were coming, and she had to get ready herself.

Anna finished putting on her maid  skirt and top and sat in the seat, waiting as the other maids got ready and gossiped among themselves. 

What could be so interesting about three Englishmen?

----

The Englishmen came through the doors with the princess and the duchess hours into when the party began. Murmurs between help warned that they had already been welcomed with mind games; the two royal women had stripped the brothers down to assess them, the men tearing buttons from shirts like wild animals. One or two maids had been given the shirts to mend already. 

Russian men had already started on vodka, cocaine, and women that morning. The party had already risen to the haze of fucking in the open, half naked women parading around as they like by the time the three Shelbys eyed the room. 

Anna had already entertained some of the men, but easily sloughed off their advances as the newcomers arrived. She had even managed to keep her maid outfit on. The stockings, however, had been long tossed into the fireplace. 

She watched the men, bug-eyed by the general activities of the den. 

"Fucking hell, Tommy," one breathed as he ran his hand along his neck. 

"Remember, play nice," the dark haired one said, clear blue eyes coldly looking around. 

Anna held her breath for the few seconds his eyes had looked at her. They were so calculating. That had to be the one Tatiana was after. 

"Sit with me, Tommy," Tatiana simpered, taking the dark haired man's hand and leading him to a couch. 

Another maid appeared beside the older looking brother with the mustache, leading him toward a chair. She brought him his own bottle of vodka. The last brother continued looking around the room, giggling uncomfortably but looking at everything like it was Christmas morning. 

Anna slipped past the duchess, who took her place by the fireplace to watch, and picked up an almost full bottle of vodka from a bucket of ice that sat beside one of the couches with an maid and a Russian man fucking slowly. She ran her hand along the Shelby brother's bicep and squeezed, a coy smile across her lips as he whipped his head around to see who had approached him.

"Would you like some company? Vodka?" Anna said, lilting her accent at him. 

His eyes looked over her outfit as she handed him the bottle of liquor. 

"Yuh," he said stiffly, eyes not leaving her hem as he cleared his throat, "sure. I was just about to ask those two men if I could enter their poker game."

"Then you will need me," Anna said as she wrapped her arm around his and led him to the table. "It is strip poker. The girls undress as you play."

"I didn't realize," he said, looking over the two bearded men sitting at the table with half dressed women on their laps. "Name's John. Yours?"

Anna pulled the chair out for John, motioning for him to sit. As he did, she made herself comfortable sitting on his lap, moving his arm to her waist. 

"He wants to play poker with you," she said to the men in Russian. "Deal him in. Let him win."

The men laughed amongst themselves and complied, throwing their cards in the center to start a new game. The women chittered on their laps but made no move to put clothing back on. Anna leaned against John, twisting to put her hand on his chest and her mouth to his ear. 

"They're starting a new game for you now," she said, feeling him gulp as her lips brushed his ear. "And you may call me whatever you like, John. Who do you want me to be?"

Anna trailed a finger along his neck as she leaned away to look him in the eye. John's blue eyes were wide and watching the table where his cards lay. With a deep breath he met her dark eyes with his bright blue ones. 

"Let's start with your name, yeah?" A playful smirk appeared on his face as his grip tightened on her waist. "And we'll go from there."

"Anna," she deftly moved his hand from her waist to her thigh along the hem of her short skirt as she leaned forward to pick up his cards and handed them to him. "Better drink to catch up. The men don't like sober players."

"Fucking hell," he breathed, handing the cards back to her and picking up the bottle he had sat beside his chair. 

He guzzled it down and the men made cheering noises, squeezing their women to their laps. One woman was completely topless, only her skirt and panties on while the man bounced her on his knee to watch her tits jiggle. The other woman had only her top and panties on, but her man had become impatient and was groping through her clothing as she giggled. 

Anna innocently shifted in his lap, trying to tempt John as he drank nearly a third of the bottle. His hand squeezed her thigh as a warning and she laughed as he set the bottle down. 

"That enough for you fucks?" He growled as he took his cards roughly from Anna's hands. "Let's play."

Anna would move occasionally in his lap, but used the game to watch the room. To watch the other brothers.

"I sewed your buttons back on," the maid said as she ran her hands across the older brother's chest, "I wanted to make sure I did a good job."

Arthur took a swig of the bottle of vodka in his hand as he watched her hesitantly. 

"You did a good job," he breathed.

She lifted a button up, circling it in her fingers deftly. 

"No, I did not."

The maid took the older his hand and guided him up from his chair and out of the room. Anna smirked. 

The other one, Tommy, the leader, was leaned on a couch, Tatiana laying against him under his arm. She looked bored.

"Why do you play games with people with no benefit to you?" Tommy asked, annoyance across his face as he took another drink from his glass. 

"In Russia because we were bored," Tatiana said succinctly. "In England because we don't know how to stop."

Anna moved on, ignoring the rest of the conversation to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She looked back to the table as John cheered, his arm squeezing her closer as he threw his cards at the table. 

"We won, Anna," he cheered again as she looked to the two sullen Russians for confirmation. 

"That means," she said, softly pressing his arm to release her, "that I no longer need my top."

Anna grabbed the fabric and lifted it above her head, throwing it to the topless girl on the other side of the table with a giggle. John's hand stilled on her thigh as he leaned back with a frown.

"When you win here," Anna said, twisting in his arms to face him, "your whore loses clothes, not your opponents." 

His ears turned a light pink as she shimmied at him with a laugh, her head thrown back. 

"There's rarely a game that doesn't end in fucking."

John's eyes were fixed on her, and she gave a throaty chuckle as his hand grabbed blindly for the bottle at the floor. He was attracted to her, at least. The pressure in his pants would not lie about that. He took another large gulp of vodka as the cards were dealt again. 

Anna watched as one of the men, the one with the girl who only had panties and a shirt on, began whispering in the girl's ear. She nodded, stood up and turned around to kneel before him and undo his pants.

She looked back at John, who tried to ignore the scene in front of him as he picked up his cards, but his eyes wandered to her bobbing head. 

A quick sweep of the room told Anna that Tommy and Tatiana were also gone. These brothers are shy, she noted.

The Russian men began muttering as John threw his hand at the table. 

"Won again," he said and looked at the Russian who muttered in front of him, his hands grabbed the back of the woman's bobbing head to bare her down on him as he gritted his teeth. Anna smiled, earning John's gaze that couldn't help but flicker to her chest before he met her eyes again. 

"Lucky for you," she said as she stood in front of him, topless with her hands at the waist of her skirt. "I have no underwear." 

She stepped out of the skirt and stepped closer to sit on his knee. His eyes were wide and his mouth slack as she straddled his leg facing him. She playfully grinded against his thigh, letting his eyes be glued to the motion, before she leaned back and took his new cards from the table. She stretched, watching his gaze travel up her naked body as she fanned his cards in front of her face to hide her smile. He was too easily shocked. 

"What happens if I win again?" He panted, licking his lips as he reached for the cards. 

Anna pulled them away from his reach and pushed herself up his thigh, twisting so their cheeks touched as she showed him his cards. 

"You, my Englishman," Anna said breathily into his ear. "Win all three of us, or whoever you wish. I can promise you, you want me."

John's eyes started to dilate as his mouth parted. 

"Oh."

The game, -- what little it could be called that -- was short lived. One man was completely engrossed in the lips around his cock, the other taken to pinching his maid's nipples until she screamed as she bounced on his knee, and John was uncomfortably frozen under Anna as she writhed on his thigh and moaned into his ear, completely breaking the concentration he was trying so hard to have on the card game. 

When the men finally threw all their cards down, John turned pale when the other men grumbled again and quickly became engrossed with their women. 

Anna looked over her shoulder to the cards on the table and smiled a Cheshire cat grin. 

"You won."

Before he could answer, she lifted herself from his soaked pant leg and grabbed his chin. He stood, meeting her eyes as she led him backwards, blindly reaching behind her for the door to a side den she knew was there. 

"You seem to be the type to want privacy," Anna purred. "Should I call the others?"

"No, no," John breathed, looking into her black eyes. 

"As I thought," she said and opened the door and led him in. She let go of his face as he stepped through the threshold.

John took a deep breath as he turned and  closed the door before he turned back to her. She was still so close, he went to take a step back and hit the door.

"Look, I--"

"Tell me what you like," she whispered as she pressed against him. 

"Have a wife, Esme--"

"She doesn't have to know," she said, leaning to run her tongue along the shell of his ear, "unless she likes to know about these things."

"No, she's just had a child--" he stuttered, trying to grab at Anna's forearms and push her back. Just a little space. To breathe. She was so close.

"So you've been without, poor man," she pouted mockingly, pressing against his hold. "Let me make it better. Do you love this wife? Do I resemble her?"

"Well you're both dark haired--"

"Do you love her?" Anna's eyes flashed as she smiled, grabbing his hand and pressing it toward her neck. "Do you hate her? Have you ever just wanted to squeeze the life--"

"Stop!" He bellowed as he pushed her back. He stomped past her, near the fireplace in the room, as he paced, muttering to himself and rubbing his face with his hands. 

Anna heard "fucking Russians" and "Tommy said they were fucking insane" mixed in with the rumblings, his tone frantic. He was coming undone at the seams, she thought, too much pressure and he'll break -- but not how Tatiana wants him to. 

She rushed to him, hushing him as she stopped his pacing. 

"That's enough, John," she soothed, his eyes wildly looking around the room at anything but her. "I'm only here to make you happy. What will make you happy, hmm?"

"Just let me fucking breathe, woman," he snapped as he stormed away from her. 

"Alright," Anna said as she crossed her arms and looked around the room. She shuffled in place uneasily, rubbing her arms as she began to notice the chill of the room. 

"Oh for fucks sake," he muttered, looking at her and then darting his eyes away as he took his jacket off. "Here, wear this, come to the fire. You must be freezing prancing around like that, yeah?"

She hesitantly came forward and allowed John to drape his jacket across her shoulders before she murmured a thanks and wrapped it tighter. 

After a few moments of silence, Anna dared to speak. 

"What now, then?"

John exhaled shakily, scratching his neck and stealing a sideways look at the Russian in his coat. 

"They expect you to fuck me, don't they?" He whispered. Anna hesitantly nodded, earning a nod in return as John ran his hand over his face. 

"And my brothers will never let me hear the end of it if I don't," he mumbled. 

"Do you… not like girls?" Anna said slowly. "I can call in one of the men--"

"God no," John laughed. "I just… it don't feel right…"

Anna shifted. 

"Is it me?"

John's eyes softened as he looked at her and smiled. 

"You're bloody gorgeous, darling," his smile turned lopsided. "It's not that."

Silence filled the air again. John exhaled.

"How about this," he said, his hands pushing the air down to the floor. "How about we walk out there and say we did. I'll tell them all that you sucked the soul out of me cock with those lips of yours, and you can tell your princess I cried like a little baby, or whatever will make her happy, yeah?"

Anna nodded. 

"We'll go out there, you can continue to be my girl for the night, and no one knows any different. Keep my coat till the morning if you like."

"Alright, John."

His face brightened and he held out his arm. Anna stepped forward and slid under it, smiling at the odd man at her side. 

"Let's go back, then."

----

"The old one," the maid said as she stood beside Anna as Tatiana ate breakfast at the table, "Arthur. He was hesitant but bred me like a dog. I think he whimpered a few times, but it only made him rougher."

Tatiana hummed as she drank her tea. 

"And the other?"

"The youngest one is named John," Anna said with a yawn. 

He refused to fuck me because he loves his wife, Esme, and they recently had a child. One of many. He was polite and attracted but wouldn't budge.

"What about him?" Tatiana snapped. "Out with it."

Anna frowned. 

"He was a fast lay," she said. "He came in my mouth after two strokes. He was so spent he never touched me after. He cries when he cums."

"How boring," Tatiana laughed. "I suppose I did save the best for myself."

"Yes, princess," the maids droned. They were dismissed with a wave.

[random-bnha-aus-and-uas]

Don’t Trust Random Portals (Crossover AU): Part 2

Class 1-A was in the cafeteria, a few of them were eating but most of them were talking. The Dekusqud (Uraraka, Deku and Iida) were talking about ways to improve their quirks, while the Bakusquad (Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero and Mina) were talking about random, stupid things. Mineta was thinking about different ways to get the girls to like them. The rest were talking about what happened to them at the USJ.

Aizawa was walking around campus, looking out for mischief he didn't find any because most of the students were either talking to the teachers or in the cafeteria. When he got a notification, saying that he's needed in the P.E Grounds, he didn't get any further information, he went straight to the P.E Grounds and was met by a very confused 22-year-old man (a.k.a Gogy) in glistening purple armour. Both looked at each other for a solid minute before Aizawa started to move his hands to his scarf, causing the other male to scutter into the shadows.

Aizawa grumbled at himself, before heading towards the last location of said brunette.

George ran off before downing an invisibility potion and immediately stripping himself of his armour, just in time as the ravenette sped past him, quite obviously not knowing where George was. He sighed in relief as he stalked off in the opposite direction, in hopes to get his bearings as to where he was. It was quite obvious from that strange man that he was no longer in Minecraft or his own reality. He felt a cold breeze on his delicate skin and immediately put on his armour and shield up, sword in his left hand on guard, ready to kill whatever may harm him.

Problem was, the danger was his friends, piling on top of him as they too, finally came out the Portal, which seemed to no longer exist. "Oww... Get off me! DREEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!!!" George screamed, forgetting that he was being hunted down by a very much capable person (or should I say, hero?). Eventually, everyone who went through the Portal had made it to the other side, slightly injured, but alive! Dream and Sapnap lunged towards Gogy, tightly hugging him before everyone else made their way towards him. At this point, the potion's effect had worn off, which led to the next scene of everyone being coddled together and held down by Aizawa's scarf, excluding Ghostbur, who just fazed through the scarf, confused and in character.

"Follow me or else," Aizawa said, glaring at every single person captured. The others followed, realising that there's no point in fighting and it could help them more, while Ghostbur followed as air-headedly as ever. They were taken to the conference room, where the police stood by, analysing every soul that walked in.

Aizawa closed the door and let his scarf go, "My name is Aizawa Shota. First things first, who are you?" Aizawa asked, sternly. Dream pulled up the chatbox, which seemed to work just fine, to message all the others what to do.

<Dream> They don't need to know our real names, use your IGNs.

Dream then started the introductions off, "My name is Dream and these are the other members of the DreamSMP." He paused, thinking of what to say next before talking again. "We came through a portal to look for GeorgeNotFound." Dream said, pointing to George, who immediately jumped in with his introduction. "I'm GeorgeNotFound." "Sapnap here!" "I'm BadBoyHalo, but you can call me Bad for short! This is Skeppy!" Bad said pointing at the diamond haired boy, who waved at the others. "My name is Antfrost!" The Siamese cat man smiled. "AwesameDude." "I'm Ponk! Do you have any lemons by any chance?" Ponk asked before getting bonked over the head by the next person to introduce themselves. "Ignore him, I'm Punz. Nice to meet you...?" "It's really not, considering we've been pulled around, I'm Purpled, by the way." He then sighed annoyed. "I'M QUACKITY!!! This is my dead ex-husband JSchlatt, but we call him JCorpse!" Quackity shouts as he tugs at a very dead looking ram man with a blue sweater. "My name is KarlJacobs!" Karl happily says as he holds Quackity and Sapnap. "Name's Eret." "CaptainPuffy here!" "I'm Nihachu!" "Hi! I'm Fundy!" "Hello! I'm Ghostbur, but I use to be called Wilbur if that helps!" Ghostbur floats towards Aizawa and gives him some blue, "Have some blue! You look sad!" And as the blue is given to the tired man, the blue became a darker shade of blue, and Aizawa felt just a tad bit happier, which confused him. "TommyInnit, you best stop that!" A man with pink hair and a dead pig mask shouts at him, grabbing the blond by the back of his shirt. "I'm Technoblade, Tommy I swear to the Blood God if you don't stop I don't know what I'm gonna do..." Tommy stops and grumbles crossing his arms in annoyance. "I'm Philza Minecraft, please ignore Tommy, he's a good lad I swear-" "I'm Tubbo and this is Ranboo!" Finally, the last person introduces themselves, "I'm Jack Manifold!"

Tsukauchi nodded, saying that they were telling the truth. "What are you doing in U.A?" "Honestly, we don't know where we are or how we really got here other than through an unknown Portal." Dream replied.

"Do you know what quirks are then?" Aizawa asked, not knowing that they came through a different world. "Quirks? What the fuck are those?" Tommy said, and before Aizawa could answer. "LANGUAGE, Tommy!!!" Bad shouted. Tommy sticks his tongue at Bad. "Quirks are, basically superpowers, that a lot of children get at the age of four," Aizawa said, surprised that they didn't know what quirks are, as Nezu walks in. "Well, we probably have something similar to that but I don't think we are from the same world as a whole," Techno said. "That might be a problem if that's the situation... Stay here, we need to figure something else out." Nezu tells them.

As all the unknown people leave, the DreamSMP people started to speak with each other. "Well, that was hard... What the hell is going on?" JCorpse asks. "Other than not being in Minecraft as a whole and being in a world filled with superpowers, I can't tell you..." Dream replies, "The chatbox seems to work but I don't want to use any commands just yet. Not unless they try and canon kill us in which then I'll just put everyone in creative and we can go wild. Though I highly doubt they'd do that, considering they seem too friendly to do that." "All we can do is wait huh? This sucks," Techno ends the conversation as he heard the footsteps of those that were interrogating them.

"Come with me, to a dorm building, since you don't have any documents stating anything about you," Aizawa said, leading them off to where the 24 people would be staying. They all comply, trying to learn more about the world around them, only to learn that this school is more secure than any of America's schools. "What kinda fuckin' school is this?" Tommy asks curiously and innocently until BBH shouted at him for swearing, pissing Tommy off. "Well, due to the existence of quirks, we've needed a way of combatting criminals and villains. This school is for heroes." Aizawa explained. "Oh no." Techno's Greek mythology starts kicking in as he starts laughing mischievously, not that Aizawa could tell as Technoblade's monotone-ness makes it hard to read him. Tommy sighed at Technoblades laughter as Phil chuckled at the duo.

Soon they got to the abandoned building, new but quite clearly unused, Aizawa put a card up to a card reader and scanned as the door opened and he led all 24 people in. "This is where you'll be staying until we figure out what to do with all of you. Try not to leave, it's best if we could keep all of you a secret for now." Dream nods to this and watches the shorter man leave, the beady eyes on his mask looking into his soul.

And when I tell you the room of people sighed, they all did, Ghostbur phasing into his more alive skin and JCorpse reverting to a living being, Quackity and Philza stretching their wings seeing as they weren't in Dream's SMP. "Can we still craft and go into creative or no?" Purpled asks, trying to figure out what they could all still do. Techno, Ponk and Punz immediately tried to open their inventory, only to notice that it looked a bit weirder. Their inventories looked more jumbled up as the fixed boxes that kept things organised had disappeared, yet if they tried to pick anything more then 37 items (a.k.a a full inventory with the offhand holding something), they couldn't. Dream opened the chatbox and started to type the command that made him powerful.

/gamemode creative Dream Your game mode has been updated to Creative Mode

He started to levitate and realised the power of Minecraft creative mode and OP was still with him. "Well, I guess now I can put all of you in creative if things get dire enough and a final canon life could get lost..." "POGCHAMP!" Tommy cheered, seeing as everything somewhat worked. "Wait, what happens if we die here? Would we respawn?"

The silence in the room became thicker than when Aizawa left. "There's only one way to know you know... Kill me, I'll probably come back!" Quackity offered his life. Punz sighed, feeling slightly guilty as he pointed his crossbow at Quackity. 10 minutes later Present Mic walked in quite confused as to how Quackity got out. Once he left Quackity started to talk again, "So I respawned at the same place we crashed here! Safe to say, I don't think we can actually die like they do?" "Yep! It's still day time, so we should probably do something while the sun is still-" "We should try rebuilding that weird Portal!" Ponk interrupts Dream, gaining a glare from the green man himself, "What? I'm trying to help here!" "He isn't wrong, we should try to get back without needing their help... You never know what those people could be planning!" Puffy tried to stand up for the lemon lover. Dream, still being in creative, started to summon crying obsidian and moved the Portal, making it in a spare dorm room, as there where 30 rooms and 6 where unoccupied. But as Dream tried to light the Portal with flint and steel, the swirling blue that got them here didn't appear. Dream frowned under his mask and tried lava and water, only to get the same reactionless thing. Nothing worked. They were trapped in this unknown world.

"It's not working... I don't know how to light this up. We... We should figure out how to act in front of everyone else. I think it would be very funny if we kept up the role-playing act up whilst staying best friends behind closed doors, plus it seems like the other people don't have the chatbox either, so we could send messages without looking weird..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beginning: Part 1

Next: Part 3

[scoutisnthome]

So I've decided that i want to keep talking about c!dream because his character is just so interesting. Now id like to say that i am not in any way an apologist, if my last post gave you that impression that is very wrong.

But i do want to talk about people suggesting things about his backstory and if he has one at all. And i think that would be cool and would contribute to the cycle of abuse theme they have going, but i have an analysis from a while ago that i think still holds strong for c!dream now which may challenge that a bit.

And that is that c!dream works best as and is a pure evil villain. No backstory that really matters, selfish motivations, and unwavering confidence.

Dream may want "one big happy family" but in the end that will be one big family where he is on top. Where he is in control. And he's doing all of this at the expense of anyone and everyone on the server. And that's one thing that these villains most frequently have in common is that they thrive off of control. Dream is a perfect example of this. His motive while on the surface may seem selfless is at its core a very selfish motive because it's based in manipulation and control.

His backstory doesn't really matter to what hes doing now. People say that maybe more backstory could explain why hes like this but id make the argument that we know why hes like this. It all started with the lmanburg revolution. His friends split off from him and he wanted them back and eventually that escalated to this. His backstory doesn't matter anymore and id argue it never did.

And with the unwavering confidence part. I feel that is self explanatory. He knows what he wants and is willing to do about anything and sacrifice about anyone to get that.

And another slightly smaller thing about a lot of these villains that dream also has in common is the fact that they cannot handle their ego being hurt or challenged. This is shown a lot with dream but the most recent example was techno calling dream homeless.

Now pure evil villains don't have to stay pure evil but for the time being i do think that's the direction he is going. He operates best like that to (from both a practical perspective and a writer's perspective). He's fun to watch, hes manipulative and powerful, and often actually intimidating even if hes a block man. Because he has no restrictions or moral qualms about what hes doing it makes him scary and almost more of a wild card than techno or tommy.

Him becoming a complicated villain would get in the way of his goals and he hates things getting in the way of his goals. It would be out of character for him to even allow complication or road blocks.

That's why hes been pushing everyone away. If hes not attached to anything or anyone things cant become complicated, then his motives won't become complicated, therefore there will absolutely nothing in his way and he can do just about anything he damn well pleases.

Even if someone tries to stop him, once hes cut himself off from everyone there is nothing stoping him from just getting rid of them and moving on.

Even if he was complicated before, he is becoming a pure evil villain, and he's doing it on purpose.

He doesn't need a backstory when hes cut himself off from anyone who would make that backstory matter.

[antiquechampagne]

Antique Champagne - CH48 - Welcome Home

Payne woke late in the morning. She appreciated Hancock giving her the chance to sleep in, even if every muscle creaked like an old wooden floor every time she moved. They hobbled into Goodneighbor by late afternoon. The guards returned their mayor’s friendly wave with a brusque head nod.

“Guess Daisy’s eating a late lunch,” Hancock mentioned as they walked through the empty courtyard.

Payne glanced over to the pair of shops. K.L.E.O. looked to be in the back taking inventory. Guess they would have to sell what little scrap Hancock had scrounged on their way home later.

Once inside, they started up the spiral staircase. Payne thought of how nice it would feel to get out of her armor, take the rest of the day lounging and recuperating.

Hancock must have read her mind. “So, does it feel like a bourbon or beer kinda night?” His easy smile was a bright light in the dusty landing.

“Both sounds great.”

Reaching Hancock’s bedroom door, Payne lead the way in. Her hand was still on the door handle when, out of the corner of her eye she saw something move. The whir of a minigun warming up barely registered when she instinctively pushed Hancock out of the doorway. Time slammed to a stop.

Thum.

Thum.

Thum.

Bullets blasted across her body, burning, burying themselves deep into her flesh. One of the projectiles slammed into her helmet, snapping her head back. Shards of glass, plastic and metal sprayed in every direction. Payne dropped to the floor like a sack of tatos.

Stunned, she tried to blink away the blood pouring down her face. A rancid burning smell raked her nose. A pair of combat boots stopped inches from her face, standing between dozens of flaming holes in the wooden floor. Payne tried to move to defend herself, but the grinding of broken bones sent arcs of pain through her shoulder and arm.

“Fucking brahmin shit, doesn’t anything kill this bitch?”

Fingers reached into the gaping hole of her helmet, roughly peeling the shattered shell from her head. Glowering down at her with utter disgust and hatred stood Fahrenheit, the muzzle of her minigun still red hot from the recent barrage.

Words tumbled awkwardly in Payne’s head; she could only manage a guttural growl. Ignoring the pain, she tried to clumsily reach for her weapon. Her hand was swiftly kicked away, her arm wrenched painfully backwards.

“Just stop. This is getting pathetic.” Fahrenheit reached down and easily disarmed the prone bodyguard.

Behind her, the sounds of cursing and fighting reached through the door. Payne tried to turn to see the struggle but found only one of her arms would respond. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one that noticed.

“Oh, what is this?” Fahr stepped towards her legs. She laid her minigun on Payne’s thigh. The flesh under the burning hot metal began to sizzle. The smell of barbeque meat wafted over her. Payne’s heart dropped. While her head, shoulder and belly burned, she could feel nothing below her waist.

“Quit playing around. We have a crowd to address.” Marowski stepped into view from the balcony doorway. He glanced around. “Seriously, Fahr? Look at my floor! That’s going to come out of your pay.”

“Sorry, boss.” Fahrenheit chuckled. “Can’t wait to play with you later, freak.”

Her twisted little smirk grew as Hancock, bound and beaten, was drug into the room. Blood dribbled down from a bruised and busted cheek. Payne was grateful to see that he looked like all he endured was a quick scrap.

The shock of seeing Payne laying in a growing red puddle on the floor washed over his face. Her heart sank. Before either could get a word out, the thugs holding him tied a tight gag around his mouth. Whatever he wanted to say was lost in a handful of grunts and growls.

“I know how much you love showboating for a crowd. We got everyone in town to come out to see you one last time… but you don’t have to say a thing,” Marowski smugly gloated. “all I need you to do is swing.”

“John!” Payne tried to launch herself forward, desperately grabbing at the nearest set of legs. Pain exploded from her shoulder, the splintered bones grinding under her skin. The shock nearly sent her hurdling into unconsciousness. All she accomplished was curling into a partial fetal position.

Fahrenheit sent two of the three thugs back into the hallway.

“Ted,” she ordered, “make sure she doesn’t move. I’ll deal with her after.”

Ted nodded, taking his place a few feet away, tommy gun in hand. From the floor, Payne could not see the silent crowd in the square below when Marowski and Fahrenheit opened the balcony door. The last she saw of Hancock was his one glance back at her before Fahr shoved him out into the ominous sunlight beyond, shutting the door behind them.

Ted.

Studying her guard’s face, she finally placed him. This was the guy she had played cards with on her first official job for Hancock, right before she put a bullet between Bobbi No-Nose’s eyes. His jaw was set, but his eyes shifted ever so slightly back and forth. He was trying hard to hide it, but his tell was on full display. He was nervous.

Quickly, Payne assessed herself. Her flesh was still sizzling from the bullets lodged in her shoulder and torso. She had no idea if she had been hit anywhere below her waist, so she ignored her lower half. The gash on her face was mostly superficial but was still bleeding heavily. Luckily it seemed her helmet absorbed most of the force of the blow. Her one good arm was the only thing holding her somewhat upright. Her brain raced, trying to formulate any way that she could overtake the man guarding her and then somehow make it to the balcony. Seconds ticked by.

She was failing. Failing John. She didn’t have the time to fail.

A crazy idea took hold. It was something she had never tried, but right now, she had no other options.

“Hey,” she looked up meekly, trying to come across even more pathetic than she must have already looked. She coughed. “Can I get something to drink?”

Ted grunted and glared. He rolled his eyes.

“What? Afraid I’ll bleed on your boots? There’s some dirty water right over there.” He didn’t move. “What the fuck can I do? Give you a paper cut with the carton? We both know you’re holding all the aces. I can’t hardly move.”

Payne nearly gave up, but then Ted pursed his lips and looked around. There was a carton within easy reach on a table by the bed.

When he glanced down at her, she silently pleaded with her eyes, trying to play upon any lingering comradery that might be left in him.

He only had to take a step to grab it. He knelt down, placing it on the floor in front of her.

“Mind opening it?” She made a few feeble movements with her bad arm.

“Oh fuck me. Fine.” Ted gave her a hard glare. “No sudden movements.”

Payne nodded. He shook his head as he took his hands off his gun and tugged at the glued corners of the paper carton.

With every ounce of strength she could muster, Payne launched herself at him, grabbing the back of his head with both hands, forcing him face to face with her.

“LISTEN!” She delivered the commanded with a hushed voice, but one with the ring of absolute authority. To her surprise, even though his eyes snapped open with shock, he waited, frozen. Listening.

This was her one shot. She had one simple demand. Two words. She pushed. Using sheer force, she pressed it into his mind. Ted resisted. His mind twisted and turned, snapped and jumped like a wild animal caught in a hunter’s trap. She struggled against him, loosing and regaining footing in a desperate gambit to save the one person in the world she truly could not loose. She ignored everything. She had no idea of anything surrounding her. The only thing that existed in this moment was the two of them, locked together in a mute battle of wills. Her body was failing. Pressure was building. It did not matter. She would risk everything if that meant having a chance to saving Hancock.

Each heartbeat felt like an hour, but still she pushed, intruding into the man’s mind. Momentarily, she sensed Ted’s resolve faintly falter. She attacked, capitalizing on the temporary weakness, driving the command further in. She could feel something inside her brain unravel, then snap. A sensation like a gunshot ricocheted off the inside of her skull. Her left eye went dark. She could suddenly only smell roses.

Don’t back down now!

Payne redoubled her efforts; the throbbing in her head threatening to swallow her. With a final push, his mind folded, collapsing like a house of cards. The command settled into place, imprinting, taking root.

Payne wasn’t sure, but she may have even gotten in a little smile right before the pressure in her head exploded, throwing her into violently into the void.

[proxylynn]

Lynchtale: File Name Game of Death #7

Chapter 7: Lead not into temptation but obsession

WARNING: THIS IS A MATURE STORY THAT WILL HAVE BLOOD, GORE, PSYCHOLOGICAL SURVIVAL HORROR, HEAVY CURSING, AND LIKELY SEXUAL THEMES/BONING. I DO NOT OWN UNDERTALE, THAT BELONGS TO LORD TOBY FOX. I DO NOT OWN DEAD BY DAYLIGHT, THAT BELONGS TO BEHAVIOUR DIGITAL INC.. I DON'T OWN THE AU'S THAT SOME OF THE CHARACTERS COME FROM, THEY BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE CREATORS. I NOW OWN THE IDEA FOR LYNCHTALE, WHICH USED TO BELONG TO PUNNYSIDEUP (AKA. SANSFULPUNS). I ALSO OWN MY SELF-INSERT OC ANOMALY LYNSIE AND A LOVE OF FAN PARODY. IF YOU'RE STILL READING THIS, THEN CONGRATULATIONS ON EITHER BEING ONE WITH STRONG DETERMINATION OR AN ENDLESS WILL TO OVERCOME THE CHALLENGE OF STOMACHING WHAT I HAVE IN MIND. EITHER WAY, IF YOU LIKE THIS AND/OR MY OTHER CONTENT. SIT BACK AND ENJOY THE ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. HAVE FUN SINNERS. ^_^

David and Lynsie stay in the fog for a long while. Telling dumb jokes and ridiculous stories. Wanting to build a better connection, David goes into detail on how his life changed before he found himself in this nightmare. She had to admit to herself, when he opens up, he is more enthralling than any movie.

King scrunches his broken fist. Cheers and hollers from a drunk crowd echo through the alleyway. He stares at his fallen opponent. Bleeding face. Busted nose. Chipped teeth. He kicks him in the mouth to put the finishing touches on his handiwork. He never lost a fight. Not now, not ever. Always bet on King. He glances over the crowd. Spots Donnie. An old friend with a gambling problem. Not much of a problem if he continues to bet on me. King looks at his watch. He's late for a family meeting.

King's father gives his mother hell for talking back for something he didn't quite understand. It's always the same crap. King grinds his teeth. Blood and warmth rush up his face. Every scrap. Every single one he won, because he saw his father's face on his opponent. He wants to lash out. To say something. Anything. But to say something is to be cut off. But this time he's not thinking straight. Or maybe he is. His father raises a hand to strike his mother. It happens faster than the thought to perceive it. One moment he snatches his father's arm. The next he's beating him black and blue for years of accumulated shit. He walks away while his mother tries to help his father up. You're out! Never show your face here again! Ungrateful bastard! Get out!

He never really had friends. Not real ones, anyway. He had an entourage. A group of sods enjoying the high life with his credit card. Now he has no one. Not a single bloody friend to help him out. He had friends once upon a time in school. But that was long ago. He needs money. But money doesn't grow on trees and no one wants to challenge him. Not after what he did to his last opponent. He needs a job. His accounts are near empty and his old careless spending habits are hard to break.

He meets with Tommy. Tommy has no room for him in his apartment. Wishes he did, but he doesn't. Mick wants to help but his old lady won't let him. Same with Bill and Harry. His ex has moved on and she doesn't want to see his face. Something about being a shithead. He can't live in a hotel room forever, it drains the account. He remembers a face he recently spotted in a crowd at his last scrap. They were friends since they were toddlers. He was a genuine friend even if they went separate ways. King looks him up. Castledrive. He hails a taxi.

King hasn't felt real in a long time. He sits in Donnie's apartment drinking old ale, realizing how much he misses genuine heart-to-hearts. Donnie was his friend before he realized he came from money. The rich aren't really rich. He's not sure why he thinks this or what it means. It's just a random thought. The ale talking as it were. Donnie says he can stay until he figures things out. He's not sure when that will be. It doesn't matter. A sudden rap at the door startles him. Donnie stands. Opens the door to reveal a few men in black leather jackets. Muscle. King doesn't hear much. What he does hear he doesn't like. Donnie owes money and can expect a bundle of lead in the face if he doesn't pay. He laughs when he returns to the kitchen table. It's your fault, King. I don't know who to bet on anymore.

King lost his last three jobs and is going back to what he does best. A challenger steps into the circle in the dimly lit alley. Double his size. Massive. King doesn't care. A head's a head. He'll go down like the others. Crowd calls him the Ghetto Masher. The Ghetto Masher glares at him. The ref spits out rules he's heard a thousand times. King stares at him...and sees...not his father but his opponent.

A bell sounds. With a bestial snarl, the Ghetto Masher lunges. King evades a wild blow that would have ripped his head off. He feels strange. Unresponsive. Confused. Donnie screams at him. He glances at him as he receives a massive fist to the skull. Black swirls across his eyes. He doesn't remember the thud against his skull. He doesn't remember his legs buckling. He doesn't even remember collapsing in a pile of festering, garbage. He only remembers waking up on the couch in Donnie's apartment. He's lost his edge. His anger. His rage. His hate. Was that all he was? Donnie's asking if he's okay and he's not sure. Am I okay? Will I be better? I don't know. Was it just a fluke? A lucky shot? Happens to the best. I feel wrecked. I am wrecked. Donnie bet the last of his cash on him.

King's getting the hang of working behind a bar. Donnie sips a beer and tells him he needs to find another reason to fight. King tells Donnie he needs to get home before the beer he's drinking turns to piss. Before he gets in trouble. Too late. King spots two men. They approach Donnie. Grab him. Usher him into the basement. Not a good sign. King rushes to help but his manager yells at him to stay behind the bar. Screw it.

He leaps over the bar and rushes to the basement where he finds Donnie being beaten by Ghetto Masher with Uncle Brass watching in his chair. King doesn't hesitate. He tackles him. They exchange deadly blows. Ghetto Masher can hardly keep up. Uncle Brass sends others after King. Doesn't matter. King's a whirlwind of destruction. He cracks Ghetto's knees and thrusts his thumbs into his eye sockets. An eyeball pops out still attached to a series of nerves. Cries of terror. Ghetto Masher cups his eyeball screaming for medical help. Staggers and slams against the wall as more ruffians attack. Stop! Uncle Brass stands and approaches. It's well within my power to rip your fuckin' head off for what you did to my boys. King staggers to his feet. Not a bloody joke, am I? His debt is paid if you work for me. He straightens up and brushes his jacket. Smiles. Always bet on King.

Such a tale would normally be taken with a heaping amount of salt. But he knew she believed him. No one makes that kind of crap up. Plus the scars on his knuckles that he was surprised she noticed were very telling. He found it cute that she'd absentmindedly traced her fingers across the old wounds. Yet it also proved just how comfortable she was with him to drop all guard and trust him without a word. Oh, how it tempted him. To stop being the support she needed after the unknown hell that happened with the Monsters and try again to make his move. Never did he think he'd be in a situation where he'd be mentally fighting his sex drive. It didn't help that she would press closer to him in an attempt to get cozy.

On her end, this was a much-needed peace. He made her feel safe. As if there were no Monsters. No Entity. No reason to be fearful of herself. No pricks to look at her like she's a freak. It's just her and him. The toughest softy she ever met and he didn't put up some fake act when around her. She loved that. Loved it when someone was themselves and didn't give a shit to fit some 'normal' mold that was expected. As dumb as it was, the lyrics to Avril Lavigne's Complicated were more than just words in a song to her. And David King was the guy she could tell that she'd never find faking. Such peace of mind had her wanting to stay like this forever. Yeah. To stay with him and forget everything else would be a dream come true.

Eventually, the calm placated the storm of her frayed nerves and she manages to convince him into returning to the campfire. Whispers spread from those that think naughty thoughts. While others knew better and ignored stupid rumors. More important matters were needed to be focused on. Hard and troubling times are coming. Resources will be needed. Trials need to be won. The flowers are coming.

[SOMEWHERE IN THE ENTITY...THE ARCHIVES OF THE OBSERVER]

(Arcus 337)

At first glance, the endless bloodshed seems to be an act to satisfy some destructive instinct within The Entity. This seems to me a reductionist distortion of something more sophisticated, something more intricate, something even sacred. Beyond the horror, the shedding of blood and the very real appearance of death puts us in touch with life and can be an intoxicating and highly addictive experience on the deepest and most archaic levels. When our blood, or our life-force is offered to The Entity, it can be seen as a gift that is soon returned to us so that the horror may continue again and again. The world constantly churns with life and death, and death and life — the circulation of blood through an Old One from heart to body to kidney back to the heart again to be purified and begin anew.

(Arcus 984)

More luminous energy sent to me by an unknown ally. With this energy, I was able to open a small window that allowed me to look into a lost realm where I saw to my great surprise a city with survivors living as though nothing was out of the ordinary. The window eventually closed, and I spent the entire evening imagining how such a thing could be possible or if it was merely an illusion. The same night another surge of energy permitted me to open a doorway into a realm I didn't much recognize or dare explore. I stared at the scintillating doorway until it faded out of existence. It's as though the one manifesting these sacred glyphs is trying to help me delve deeper into the mysteries of this dimension or, perhaps, he is suggesting that the answers to my salvation are hidden amongst the countless realms discarded by this Old One since time immemorial.

(Arcus 985)

Instead of reading aloud in my usual way, I clambered to the roof of my tower and conjured a fire and a radio to listen to some ghost stories from a half-remembered radio serial from Terra Dark. Without a doubt, listening to these stories has proven to be the best way to pass the time, especially when you've got endless voices clattering in your head, bringing you down with their endless agonies and anxieties. Later I used the Auris to manifest The Storyteller to read his stories like he had done for his weekly podcast. He was composed of ever-moving, black fog, and I suspect that one day I'll actually be able to recreate a more realistic person to listen to or perhaps even engage with in something that resembles a conversation.

Listening to The Storyteller and hearing familiar expressions, I am wondering: how do I keep myself out of my own creations? The memories I attempt to record as fast as I experience them prove one thing to me. They show me objectivity is impossible, or elusive at best, and I'm never quite sure if my logs are a true and accurate depiction of the subject's memory or a whiskey laden interpretation of a nightmare. To add to my frustrations, I have recently noticed other voices have made their way into my notes. Other interpretations. Other thought-patterns from people whose memories I've likely spent too much time reliving. They are becoming a part of me and that wasn't supposed to happen.

(Arcus 986)

The Storyteller kept me entertained throughout the night with his gory tales of Nosferatu, so that I almost forgot my own personal living nightmare. His stories entertain and make for a perfect distraction when smashing golf balls into the abyss just won't suffice. There have been countless tales of vampires, and to be certain I've read most of them, but to my mind...his are the most chilling. More than once now I've woken in a cold sweat with the sense that my tower has been overrun by these horrible creatures with fangs for teeth.

(Arcus 987)

Another incident woke me in the middle of the night. An incredible surge of energy coming to me from an undetermined source. At first, I thought my mind had given way to illusions and wild imaginings until I realized the energy surging through my tower was widening yet another doorway into a lost realm composed of memories from an unremembered civilization lost to time. I approached and stared into the remnants of a war-torn, abandoned city with the eerie cry of a baby echoing in the distance. Just as I made to enter the lost realm the scintillating doorway shrunk and sizzled out of existence. I soon realized it may very well be possible to explore this Old One from my tower with the help of this unique energy and the Auris.

(Arcus 1007)

A new doorway has opened. For how long? I'm not sure nor have I ever been right even with my best guesses. Through the door of my study and into a lost and forgotten realm. Moss-grown, stone homes with doorways barricaded with wagons, planks of wood, and decaying corpses tangled in barbed wire. I walk by the homes gazing at the residual memories of soldiers killing villagers with swords for no other reason than the thrill of it. I can't make out which era or Terra world this realm is from. I search the realm for hints of how one may open an actual doorway back home. Somewhere in these memories and forgotten realms is the answer to my salvation. But...which ones...which ones indeed...

(Arcus 1275)

I have often wondered if those trapped here have ever paused to reflect upon the inexplicable significance of this world that defies not only time and space but death. A world made of memories that is neither consistent nor constant. Something akin to a collective dream made of the collective memories and beliefs of its inhabitants. Sometimes I wonder if not all worlds were like this in some respect and that reality is what we in fact dream it to be or believe it to be.

(Arcus 2217)

I have uncovered to my amazement and bewilderment memories of Claudette that are unlike any of those I've previously experienced. One might even say they should not belong to her...and yet...they are hers. I surmise these memories may belong to another Claudette from another Terra world, suggesting that this Old One may have clear preferences at the cosmic buffet for certain souls. It will take more samples of these memories to know if they are in fact from another Claudette or if, and it is possible, I am having troubles deciphering between her actual memories and her creative musings.

(Arcus 5736)

I have seen into the heart of this Old One and have seen things no mortal eyes should see...things that simultaneously perplex my mind and burden my conscience. With mysterious help I have ripped open reality, searched deep within countless rifts, and seen everything tumble helplessly towards chaos and entropy...towards death and madness...and for the briefest moment I had the ridiculous thought that the mysterious ally helping me could very well be The Entity playing its game with me, toying with me as a cat does with a mouse before the claw rips the tiny jugular out. Staring out into the endless abyss of black fog I thought that this prison could very well be another form of trial disguised and designed to feast on all the psychic energies derived from alienation, boredom, and all those bouts of unremembered insanity. I can't help but feel millions of invisible hooks in my heart and millions of unseen eyes all around me...watching me...waiting for me to tumble toward chaos and madness like everything else...waiting for my mind to turn against itself. This bastard of an Old One wants me to kill myself. I am sure of it. Or maybe...Maybe I already have, and maybe I will again...and again...and again.

(Arcus 5738)

An odd impulse caused me to climb to the roof and light a single candle in the pitch blackness of it all. When the candle extinguished, I thrust myself off the roof and plunged to my certain death but somehow ended up back in my bed as though I was waking up from a nightmare. I don't know what I was thinking but what this has shown me is...death is not an escape.

(Arcus 5798)

Incidents don't make sense anymore. Nothing does. Everything is a chaotic blur of unreal apparitions and jumbled memories. I can barely recognize my own thoughts or distinguish my memories from those I've been studying. Last night I relived the most horrific murders in my collection with a strange kind of...pleasure...When I had had enough, I looked in the mirror and did not see myself but dozens of faces morphing in and out of each other. Every possible face except my own. I thrust my fist into the mirror and my hand split and blood was everywhere. What cruel fate has befallen me that I should lose myself in the darkness while trying to escape its deadly grasp? The Auris will either be my salvation or my downfall.

(Arcus 7525)

It's hard to say what came over me and I can hardly recollect the last few hours perhaps even days. I awoke with several empty whiskey bottles and dead bodies sprawled across the roof. Not too far from the scene was my gory nine iron and a phonograph playing a solemn, French song about life in a city I will never truly know. I turned the bodies over one by one and they vaguely resembled those who had forsaken me to this infernal prison. I must have conjured them and destroyed them in the same evening. But...with a nine iron? I imagined far worse fates for them. I even have a journal devoted to dark and creative ideas on how I might actually one day make them pay for their corruption and impertinence.

(Arcus 8545)

I was woken mid-slumber by a delirium of shrieks and destruction so that I rushed to the closest window to see only the endless Black Fog swirling outside. Things in the Fog were coming to life and dying simultaneously as though The Entity were sick or in some kind of shock. Creatures roared and fought and tore each other apart somewhere in the raging abyss and it was both entertaining and unsettling. I grabbed a nine iron and held it at the ready, waiting for some apparition to attack me. But within moments it was all over, and I couldn't sleep, and so I took the edge off with a little whiskey and golf on the roof, the whole while cursing this blasted Old One and hoping what I had just experienced was nothing more than cosmic indigestion.

(Arcus 8557)

I tremble as I scribble this down. Squid-like creatures difficult to describe attempt to penetrate my tower, trying to destroy my study and tools to explore and manifest. I held them off for as long as I could, then, taking the Auris and other valuables, I rushed through a doorway and hid in a lost realm. When I returned, the tower was upside-down, my study completely ransacked, the creatures lay dead on the floor with black, putrid blood leaking out of them, and the smell of decaying fish was everywhere. What are these creatures and who is sending them if not this brutish monster of an Old One? I spent hours cursing and throwing these fetid carcasses out of my window and back into the abyss.

(Arcus 8789)

There are dead bodies in my study and I have no recollection of the last few days. The bodies have been flayed from head to toe and the faces have been beaten to an unrecognizable pulp. I dragged them to the window and thrust them out into the abyss wondering who they were and why they were in my tower. Did I manifest them? Did I create them for company? Or did they come from somewhere else? Had I been the one who butchered them? Had I lost myself so deeply in a memory that I became someone else for a short time? Perhaps they are not my creations but apparitions from the Fog sent by The Entity like the creatures I hear lurking about in the Fog now and then.

(Arcus ??????)

I...I have tried to distract myself from the negative thoughts that have been plaguing me as of late. Delving into the memories of the Survivors for more wholesome or at the very least comical moments. The rumbles of King, the failings of Dwight, the never say die spirit of Bill, the laughable oddities of Ash...It helped...For a time. My curiously brought me to look into the new girl. This mysterious Lynsie King has become taken with. Surely she might have something in her past that would be worth a chuckle or two. And there were a few I managed to find. The time she ran to listen to a song she liked and fell on her side after sliding in a sudden skid. The time she was jumping from large rock to rock with her younger cousin and slipped, ripping her skirt-shorts off and she had to hold it on till she was back home. The countless amount of comedy specials she'd watch on television. I wish I had more control as I should've stopped there. A blurred memory cleared up and I fell down a dark pit of sadness.

It's dark, the trailer called home is silent in slumber. A teenage Lynsie stands in the bathroom and stares into the mirror, tears streams down her cheeks as dark whispers fill her ears. Her gaze turns to the medicine cabinet. Shaky hands open it and reach for a bottle...Iodine. She scans the label before bad ideas play in her mind. She considers drinking it. But the smell has her question the taste. She heads to the kitchen, perhaps burying the taste in something else will work. She experiments with ravioli. It turns black in the iodine. Her mind fights itself, listen to the death call of depression, or listen to the instinct to stay alive. After a long twenty minutes of standing in the glow of a small nightlight, the tainted meal is trashed and the healing poison returned to its cabinet. She adjourns to her bed where sleep fails to come. No one in the home will ever know of this moment...or of the others.

[UNKNOWN TIME PASSES]

A few harsh trials have happened since that incident with Chops and the Doctor. I've had the good fortune of encountering the Hag. Hag wasn't so bad. That trial went so well I felt bad that the others were bashing pallets on her and taking advantage of her simpleness to play mind games that had her so confused that I managed to pop three of the generators on my own. It was so very strange and not at all what I've been used to so far.

Other than that, the others are taking trials more seriously and focusing on getting currency to barter with the Entity. Why this is I know not. Some look as though they want supplies or offerings. Others maybe want objects or cosmetics. David tells me something called The Hallowed Blight is coming but not to worry about it. Monsters get more aggressive and ugly, so no big deal. He has my back if shit gets rough. Tells me to get something nice with my earnings to feel better. While as nice as that is, it brings up questions I both want to ask and yet don't. I trust David. He's not going to steer me wrong. But he's also a tough guy that will downplay threats because HE can kick ass and not give a fuck about getting names. I'm not strong like him. So when he says no big deal, I'm inclined to be more on guard.

The call of the crows is heard. The trees sway. The air grows cold and a wave of fog rolling in makes four of us stand. A new trial is commencing. The black smoke consumes the soon to be victims and takes them away. The taken...Laurie, Ace, Quentin, and me.

[INTO THE FOG AND OUT ELSEWHERE]

The darkness fades and I find myself on a rug...in a house. My brain temporarily forgets this is made by the Entity, as memories try to crawl awake and build up hope that I've been freed by mistake. But this is not my home. Never will be. This is Lampkin Lane of Haddonfield and the one that calls it home is the monster called the Shape.

Haddonfield is a calm little town in the state of Illinois, without much going on. Or at least it was. If you were to ask anyone in the town, at the school or in a bar, if there's something off with Haddonfield, they'd decline. To accept that this was the birthplace of one of the purest forms of evil is hard. People living here have always felt safe and protected. There were no boogeymen or other shady characters in the night. No lurking, no skulking. People slept perfectly fine for decades knowing this for a fact. So when Halloween came about, the town’s folks were reluctant to accept that Haddonfield is now forever known as an evil place. Gossip and made-up stories flooded the town.

Nobody really knows what happened, or if it's safe nowadays. Some moved away. Others visited as morbid tourists. During the day, a common visitor wouldn't suspect a thing. But as the sun sets and night comes, an eerie quietness devours the town. People are afraid. And as you visit Haddonfield, you too will get afraid. Not only because it sits upon a dark history, but also because something is off. This isn't a real place, but instead a warped version of a reality that is no more. An Entity version if you'd like. A simple street with houses that witnessed the horrors that took place. A jungle gym where children once learned to climb. Sidewalks where fathers taught their daughters to ride a bike. All gone. Instead, it sits in the palm of the Entity, forever held in darkness.

Outside doesn't seem to be a smart bet for safety. Even if the starry night sky is tempting to observe. Inside is probably even worse due to small spaces constricting movement. Yet I take my time heading up to the second floor of this house, greeted by tacky wallpaper and random spooky abstract pictures. Windows and doors don't seem to be a thing on certain things. The house next-door is completely boarded up. The rooms upstairs are mostly empty. There's a locker, dirty mattress, a pallet that splits a double room, a dull totem that I break with ease, and a single generator in a very small closet type space. Not sure how much time I'll have before being found by this trial's monster, I get to work on repairing the gen. It's a slow process since I'm alone, but it can't be helped, there's only space for one to work on it. The confines of the room make the sounds of progress extra loud and the lights of the once dead home flicker with reviving life, a tell that someone is inside. Does this bother me? Yeah. But I've been getting numb to this. I keep my senses open for a single sound. Once that heartbeat plays in my ears I will go full crazy in an effort to avoid this super easy kill spot. Wiring this one seems to be more annoying than I first figured. A lot of repeating wires needing to be set right in dim flicking light.

*LOW-PITCH YELL*

"Come on...I don't have time for this bull..."

*LOW-PITCH YELL*

"The fuck is going on out there?"

What killer can be hitting them so quickly? This is not going to be a good trial.

*LOW-PITCH YELL*

[Breaking Point: Triggered. Resentment Tier I activated.]

Wait...That one sounded close. I pause working as the sound of fleeing footsteps clatter on the wooden floor...then up the stairs. I back into the generator as the shadows cross the walls moments apart from one another. A small one and a massive one. There's this crunching sound followed by a low scream...and a thud outside. Did...Did they get downed in a window and plummet to the ground. Brutal.

Heavy steps creep back my way and I feel my hair stand on end. This aura is dark. So strong I can feel it through the walls yet there's no heartbeat. The killer stops near the doorway, their shadow leaking into the room as something I vaguely recognize.

"...Big guy?"

Shape leans his head into the room before the rest of his form joins, blocking the exit effectively and showing the fresh blood dripping off his blade.

"H-Hey there..."

I'm not sure what the reason may be, but I'm suddenly more nervous than I'd normally be. He looks at the generator and then me. I feel my spine tingles move throughout my system. He takes a step, my body reacts and I drop to the floor.

"Mercy!"

He pauses.

"Please...You don't have to do this. I can't do much, but I am useful. Just...don't hurt me."

He mulls his thoughts over before continuing forward. I brace for a painful stabbing...only to hear a harsh thud. I glance over my shoulder as the second thud is made, he gave the generator two harsh kicks that had fire spurting from his boots with each hit. The engine sparks and smokes, progress has been regressed with damage. He turns away from the gen and I'm not entirely sure if he'll ignore me or not. Self-preservation mode is in effect.

"The guy you followed up here...Young looking, right?"

He takes a moment before nodding.

"That's Quentin. I think he brought a toolbox. There's another, older man, that's Ace. I think he has a key. I'm uncertain of the rarity. And the last one is carrying a flashlight, Laurie."

That name has his flame burn brighter. He grabs me from the floor and holds me to the wall, his blade to my throat.

"... .... ...."

For a man so soft-spoken he can be very harsh.

"Calm down, please. Does she mean something to you?"

".........."

"Oh! You have Obsession Rights on her."

He nods and I put my hands up.

"Then by all means...Go for it. I won't stand in your way."

He tilts his head so I continue to try to seem on his side.

"What? I haven't been having the best times with other humans. Why would I get in your way? How does that help me? You and them know what you're doing out here. I'm still figuring things out."

He eyes me before removing his weapon from my tender nape. Good. He's reasonable. Wish they were all half this easy.

*SHHHHHHUNK*

It's funny. I registered the knife hitting the wall before realizing it went through my gut to do so. Not a sound is made, thanks to my Skulker's Instinct perk. Shape stares at me, taking in the lack of screams even though my wide eyes are filling with tears. A harsh yank dislodges the blade. My legs resist the urge to buckle when he lets me go. Seemingly satisfied that he did something, he goes to leave and I aim to heal this bloody hole I now have.

"..."

He gets my attention.

"... ...."

"No do gens?"

He nods.

"Okay...*wince* Can I still do bones and loot chests?"

He shrugs.

*CLANK*

With that first generator being popped he leaves the room and I heal myself. If only that gen popped before the stab, then my tier one would've reversed. Once healed, I head down the stairs and decide to creep on all fours. I don't want to be spotted by the others right now. Now knowing the monster is Shape, it makes more sense why I couldn't hear the heartbeat. Shape's power makes him undetectable until he's built up enough murder-lust from stalking victims. I pray I won't come to know what happens when he's at max power. Then again, I know not what he plans to do with me once he is done with the others.

I leave the home and feel so out of place in this strange suburb street. There are mailboxes, childish fences, trash waiting for pickup, vehicles, a playground, and a road that on one end ends at an exit gate. Everything looks so normal. Like at any second, I'll see this neighborhood come alive with people going about their lives. But seeing the border past the houses breaks such ideas apart. This place is dead. A lie. A moment in time captured with all life removed from it. Well...all life removed but us.

I find a bone totem hidden behind some trash bins and tend to breaking it. Why I have to pick it apart and can't just kick the damn thing is beyond me. The totem dismantles with a loud crack, allowing me to move on down the sidewalk and ignore all other stuff going on.

*HIGH-PITCH SHIRK*

Sounds like Shape found Laurie. I wonder where everybody is and what they're doing? How are they all able to hide in this place? Is Shape on the others so much they can't work on generators very well or does he have a perk that's keeping their progression low? My thoughts are broken by this open sitting space. Trees and unkempt grass, a circle of benches lit up by three separate lamp posts. That's not what catches my eye. Behind the benches, even the lonely bench away from the others, are these large almost boulder-like rocks that are bigger than me. Fun memories come flooding back of playing on similar stones when visiting my Abuela. The urge to relive that feeling pulls me. I choose a rock pressed on a tree. A good sprint and jump are all I need. I dash towards to rock...but my legs refuse to leap as I want them to. Finding this odd, I grip the rock to pull up for better footing...and again my legs don't move.

"The hell...?"

[Having some trouble, little worm?]

God dang it.

"What did you do to me this time?"

[Not a single thing.]

"My legs won't move. I don't call that nothing."

[Your legs are fine. You are simply on par with the other worms now. Worms stay on the ground where they belong.]

I recall something the Doctor said while I was in his so-called "care".

"❄☟✋💧 🕈✌💧 ✌☼⚐🕆☠👎 ❄☟☜ 💧✌💣☜ ❄✋💣☜ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ ☼☜💣⚐✞☜👎 ❄☟☜ ☟🕆💣✌☠🕯💧 ✌👌✋☹✋❄✡ ❄⚐ 👍☹✋💣👌📬" (THIS WAS AROUND THE SAME TIME THE ENTITY REMOVED THE HUMAN'S ABILITY TO CLIMB.)

The pieces fall into place.

"But I was able to climb before. My first trial..."

Its voice mockingly chuckles in my head.

[Just how special do you think you are? The Entity allows all prey to be free their first time. It lets the Entity know what they are capable of.]

That makes sense. No better way to measure the worth of what you have than by letting it be free...For a moment at least.

*LOW-PITCH YELL*

Sounds like Ace.

[Will you be letting Shape have all the fun? The Entity enjoyed watching your hunt of the other worms last time.]

I won't let it goad me into snapping. I just need to remain calm.

*LOW-PITCH SCREAM*

..REMAIN CALM!

I need to distract myself. If I let the failings of the others get to me I'll end up hitting tier two, and once in tier two, it is much easier to go tier three. Maybe I can hide in a locker and bash my head in till I blackout.

[If it was that easy, little worm, the lot of you would die much sooner. You are welcomed.]

"Stay out of my head, you fucking...!"

Sharp pain claws me from within. I'm brought to the ground and curling in on myself like a wadded up ball of tissue that's silently screaming.

[Do not forget your place, worm! The Entity controls all. If the Entity wills it, you will suffer horrors the likes of which would rend your mind to shreds. Your soul and very essence would cease to be. Do you comprehend this or shall the Entity prove it further?]

I fear further damage to my tainted soul. I yield. Meekly kissing the ground as penance.

[Yes. Embrace the dirt, lowly worm. The weak are bound to it. Only the strong...The beasts...Only they can rise above and know power. So, Lynsie...What are you? A worm? Or a beast?]

I can feel my soul tighten as if the tips of dozens of nails threaten to penetrate the fragile thing with each passing second. My mouth begins frothing with the start of foam from how much I'm straining and hyperventilating to just meekly resist this.

[Struggle all you wish, little worm, for it is in vain. You can either become a beast and hunt for the Entity, or you can allow your soul to become nothing and to nothing you will become. No matter your choice, the Entity will have what the Entity wants. The only difference being the amount of pain you wish to give or receive.]

It hurts. Everything hurts. Why? Why does this have to be the way of things?

"Lynsie? Is that you?"

From behind some of the bushes, Quentin crouch walks by to see my feeble form. I want to speak but can't.

"Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

Garbled gibberish is the best I can answer him with. His concern grows and my bloody shirt doesn't help.

"Are you changing? Please tell me you're not."

I shakily etch in the dirt "NO". This makes him feel better but the Entity hates it and proceeds to tighten its grip on my soul. The pain blinds me temporarily.

"Let me see if I can heal you. Maybe it'll help."

Quentin is kind. Optimistic like most teens. Even when it's very painfully clear that the odds aren't realistic. He puts his hands on me and attempts to heal. But since I'm not physically wounded...

"It's...It's not working. Why isn't it working?"

With my sight locked past Quentin, him trying his best to heal that which is beyond his understanding, I gaze into nothingness and see shadows come alive. Images of multi-segmented claws twitch and twist in unnatural motions that unnerve me to my core. Suddenly...I see a light. A faint glimmer that disrupts these chaotic tendrils of doom and restores a tiny bit of hope. Perhaps it's Laurie with her flashlight or Ace with his shiny key. Wait, was Ace downed or hung? I can't recall. The light gets clearer as it draws near. It's not from a flashlight. It's Shape. His glowing silhouette and glistening blade become easy to see as he draws near. He aims for an easy strike. I'm down and Quentin is distracted. Two birds to be killed with a sharp stone.

I...I have to warn Quentin. He needs to run while he still has the chance.

[Are you sure about that?]

I attempt to speak, to do something good, and increase Quentin's ability to live. But all that comes out is guttural hissing. Quentin is understandably confused and most likely thinks I'm responding to healing efforts. Shape gets closer, readying his weapon for a harsh backstab.

[Choose now, Lynsie. Be a worm...Or a beast.]

Panic floods my system. Even though I know death is meaningless here and I'll basically re-spawn, the amount of buildup plus the pain to my soul has logic being thrown out into the void. My body responds without thought.

[Breaking Point: Triggered. Resentment Tier II activated.]

"Wa-wait, what are you doing?"

I quickly grab at one of his ankles and gab my thumbnails as hard as I can into the thin debilitating tendon that meant the end for the great Achilles. Quentin howls in pain and thrashes away from my sudden assault.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

A low rumble reverberates from my throat and I crawl away like a nervous cat.

"I am not a worm."

My words go over his head, his attention goes to healing himself and I watch as the embodiment of hellfire stalks right up behind him.

*LOW-PITCH YELL*

The knife is plunged so deep into Quentin's back that Shape has to pull it out while pressing on Quentin with his foot. The look on his face as he locks eyes with me is one of hurt betrayal. Like, you can literally see him think "Why?" and hear the song "How Could This Happen To Me" by Simple Plan play. He doesn't get to crawl away. Shape scoops him up and glances at me. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Thankfully, he merely nods and walks away to find a hook. The stranglehold on my soul easing to stable comfort.

[Not bad, little beast. You get points for creativity.]

The Entity is pleased, causing me to shudder and wander off. I lashed out in forced desperation. Makes me feel sick.

*LOW-PITCH SCREAM*

Quentin's been hooked. This whole trial is bullshit. How is it fair that the Entity can just interfere like that?

[If you think this is unfair, wait till you encounter some of the other perks the Entity granted to the monsters. Take the Clown for instance. His "Bamboozle" perk allows his vault speed to be faster as well as calls upon The Entity to block that Vault location for several seconds. Only one Vault location may be blocked this way at any given time. But even this is enough to ruin even the most skilled of the worms.]

Are you fucking serious?

[Plague and Ghost Face have perks that affect generators. "Corrupt Intervention" answers her prayers to invoke a dark power that meddles with the Survivors' chances of survival. 3 Generators located farthest from her are blocked by The Entity for about 120 seconds at the start of the Trial. Survivors cannot repair the Generators for the duration Corrupt Intervention is active. And "Thrilling Tremors" pulls from his dark designs and shrewd composure to rouse The Entity. After picking up a Survivor, all Generators not being repaired by Survivors are blocked by The Entity and cannot be repaired for the next 16 seconds.]

Are you shitting me right now?!

[Nightmare has a perk called "Blood Warden". As soon as the Exit Gate is opened, Blood Warden is activated. The Auras of any Survivors located within Exit Gate areas are revealed to him. Once per Trial, hooking a Survivor while Blood Warden is active calls upon The Entity to block both Exits for all Survivors for up to 60 seconds.]

...Words can not fathom the levels of absolute hate I am feeling right now.

[Good. Use it. That girl, Laurie, has yet to be hooked. It would be wise to do so. At this rate, you will not earn much by the end of this trial.]

Leave me alone! I don't care about bloodpoints. Besides, that's Shape's target. I can't kill her.

[Do you really think she will allow herself to die to you? Who are you to believe the worms would actually fear death from you? Worms only fear beasts.]

I am not a worm!

[So you say. Yet you act as though you are a worm. You have fear in your soul. A beast has no such weakness.]

I know what you're doing! I won't fall for this!

[And what pray tell is the Entity doing?]

You want me to crack. To give in a be just another cog in your feeding machine.

[You are that regardless of being a worm or beast. The Entity does not care which you are.]

Then remove the scaring on my soul!

[No. You will not lose your punishment so easily.]

You're so full of shit it isn't even funny.

[All beasts have blight on their souls. You are no different. The only difference is the amount. Once you embrace what the Entity has given the scars shall minimalize. Till then, they will only grow and fester the more you resist.]

I growl to myself while stumbling upon another bone totem and begin working on it. I'll say it again, this entire trial is bullshit.

*CLANK*

Case in point, the second generator is finally activated. And not that far away either. I don't think Laurie has been downed this entire time, she's pulling her weight and more. Good for her. At this rate, she'll most likely make it out alive.

[Do you think that's fair? That Laurie will live but you will not?]

I continue to work on the totem and ignore the whispering, I don't need it listening to any more of my thoughts.

[Have you not been through enough? Everything that has tried to break you, you overcame in spite. You have had very few moments of peace. Even now, everyone and thing seeks to tear you apart for some reason or another. Do you not find it wrong for them to not aid you as they do the others? That the worms and even beasts think they can use you as they please.]

I'm finding it hard to focus when it is using truth.

[Should you let them get away with that? Letting their actions go without consequence? Where is that relentless drive to live? That spirit to prove others wrong? Where is the woman that made her inner demons submit? You do not need to put up with mistreatment. You are so much stronger than they realize. Show them their hubris. Make them regret their misdeeds. Let them know of the mistakes they made by hurting you. Give them a taste of true fear. Grant them this gift...The gift of true suffering.]

I have stopped my task at this point. It has made a very convincing plea. I am so tired of being looked down on. Being used. Being shunned. I just want to be shown respect or they very least be left alone. Why should the others treat me with such disregard? What did I do to them to call for such treatment? And the monsters...Even they have scum among them. They can't get away with this.

No! I can't give in to these thoughts. I'm better than this. Than them. I won't stoop to their level. I don't...

*LOW-PITCH YELL*

I don't need to...

*LOW-PITCH YELL*

I DON'T FUCKING NEED TO...

*LOW-PITCH SCREAM*

[Breaking Point: Triggered. Resentment Tier III activated.]

I NEED TO FUCKING END THEM!

[Special Ability: Anomaly State...Activated.]

...

Shape watches the young boy struggle against the Entity on the hook. A pointless waste of energy. No one would try to rescue him as long as he was there. At least, no one in their right mind would.

*HARSH ROAR*

This new sound pulls the monster of flame's attention.

[Grillby...]

"..."

[The little beast is free. Do not interfere with her rage. The Entity wants her to accept her place. Do you understand?]

"...Yes, Master."

A sudden flash blinds Shape, forcing him to recoil back with an irritated steamy hiss.

"Quickly, we need to regroup with Ace. Lynsie's snapped."

The sound of the hook being messed with is heard.

"Right."

By the time Shape's vision returns, he witnesses Laurie and the one called Quentin, now unhooked, flee into the street. The Entity told him not to bother with the odd one, but it didn't say stop attacking. It's time to stop playing on easy. While still able to see them, Shape stares hard at the humans, building up his intensity for the kill. The darkness inside feeds his determination to take the life of his prey.

[Evil Within II: Triggered. The Red Stain is now visible. Aura-reading Abilities now work. Terror Radius is active at a range of 16 meters. Regular Movement speed increased by 115%. Regular Lunge range open time: 0.5s. Slightly increased Vaulting speed by 1.48 seconds.]

Now that Evil Within II is active, he has no means to return to Evil Within I. Things will only get worse for the humans from this point on. Where his left hand was relaxed and swung freely mid-chase, the knife pointed slightly outwards and he had stiff restrained deliberate movement...Now left hand is clenched into a fist and held rigidly at his side, less-restrained freer movement. All the better to stab them with.

The pair race into a home. Shape follows. The Scratch Marks they leave behind in their sprint are like neon bread crumbs he can trace back to the main loaf that's itching for his knife to cut into. The scratches split, one leading upstairs and the other down into the cellar. Knowing Laurie, she's the one upstairs. He heads downward for the easy target. After all, the boy is still injured and bleeding. Save the best for last...heh.

There isn't much down here. The room loops full circle with two ways of entrance/exit. A single generator looms at one end of the room, it has not been touched. Though it's the space of multiple lockers that he knows the poor fool has sought safety in. A bad idea. The blood tells him where the boy is, but where is the fun in getting to the point? He moves to the locker next to it, his eyes not looking away from the real prize, and opens the empty box with force before slamming it shut just as hard. He moves to the other one beside it and repeats the same violent search.

*hurt gasp*

Perfect. The prey is terrorized. Nothing quite like scaring the literal crap out of someone. Shape reaches slowly for the handle and...

SLAM

The doors fling open, stunning Shape as the boy springs out for escape. Big mistake. Quickly spinning on his heel, Shape manages to catch the wounded boy with a mighty slash.

*LOW-PITCH YELL*

The boy falls and is at his complete lack of mercy. He probably had that "Head On" perk and thought it would be his trump card. Too bad for him it also causes the Exhausted status effect. Now it was time to end it. Kicking the boy over, Shape makes sure he sees what he brought this trial...an Ebony Memento Mori. Quentin's eyes bug out of his head.

"*gaps* Oh fuck..."

[Yes...Do it...Claim the kill...Do it, Grillby!]

The token glows and Shape's flame burns bright in delight. He snatches Quentin in a flash by the neck and thrusts his knife deep into the thrashing boy's chest. Bloody spills from his mouth and chest, he's choking on it. It deafens his screams. As if the human was made of butter, Shape forces it in deeper till the blade breaches out the spine. Shape watches the light fade in the boy's eyes before tossing the cold husk to the ground. More. More needs to be ended.

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

A heartbeat? Ah...Legion's "toy" is near.

*SCREECH*

"Shit! Fuck!"

The floorboards above clatter with panic running.

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

What sounds like ravenous animal chases after the male.

Knife is raised above his head, pointing downwards.

*WILD SNARL*

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

Hmmm...Maybe she's more interesting than first thought. At least she was smart enough to be after the male and not his Laurie. Speaking of which, if she's dealing with him then where is...

*CLANK*

...Sneaky bitch. At least that made her location noticeable. Steam escapes the mouth of Shape's mask, the thrill of killing THAT girl, his obsession...It had his heat being shown in visible air warping waves. Something about Laurie...Something in his soul burned for her death. She pissed him off. Her lack of fear towards him demanded him to break that. To go all out and teach her that was to be feared. He is what goes bump in the night. He is a devil that will burn all in fire. And she will learn this no matter how many times it takes. Time means nothing here and death has no end.

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

*SHARP HISS*

"Nice save."

"Run, moron!"

*ROAR*

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

The playground. The humans were looping the "little beast" around the objects and pallets before blinding her with that infernal flashlight. Shape supposed the Entity calling her a little beast is fitting. Her appearance...Long untamed hair flared in her anger. Blacked out eyes with glowing white irises that seeped darkness itself down her pale flesh. Her limbs looked extended slightly, claws tipping her hands and exposed toes from which she stands upon. A crazed posture and matching sadistic grin indicate she is lost, lost in the madness of kill. But for as lost as she was, the two humans were more so as they soon noticed that there was a monster to their left and right.

"Shit."

"What do we, Laurie?"

"I don't get it. Why didn't she turn back after the gen pop and flashlight?"

Was that really your great plan, Laurie? Did you fail to notice something's wrong? Someone's missing?

"Where's Quentin?"

The question is asked and it makes the air get colder.

"Hey..."

Little beast gets Shape's attention, taking advantage of the humans' lack of understanding the tongue of monsters.

"That key he has...It's a Skeleton Key."

Shape's grip on his knife tightens. A key of that level can open the hatch if spawned and found. The Hatch will become visible whenever the number of fully repaired Generators exceeds the number of living Survivors by one. 4 Survivors remaining: 5 repaired Generators/Exit Gates are powered. 3 Survivors remaining: 4 repaired Generators/1 Generator left. 2 Survivors remaining: 3 repaired Generators/2 Generators left. 1 Survivor remaining: Spawns and opens regardless of how many Generators remain to be repaired. If she now counts as a monster, then the rule of 2 survivors 3 generators is active. That means a hatch has spawned and that key is a problem, only dull and skeleton keys open the hatch.

Feeling the growing tension, Ace fidgets as if moving to break away from this awful situation but it only sets off the little beast. She lunges at the older male and in a move of self-preservation, shoves Laurie in the way as a human shield.

*HIGH-PITCH SHIRK*

Four deep gashes slice Laurie's side, putting her in the injured state. This move, however, has two effects. One, it's hurt a human that normally is tough for any monster to deal with. And two...It's pissed Shape off. He builds up his need for murder.

[Evil Within III: Triggered. Regular Terror Radius of 32 meters. Regular Movement speed increased by 115%. Slightly increased Lunge range open time: 0.6s. Moderately increased Vaulting speed of 1.275 seconds. When triggered, all Survivors suffer from the Exposed Status Effect. Evil Within III lasts for 60 seconds, after which it regresses to Evil Within II.]

With his knife raised above his head, pointing downwards, Shape wastes no time charging in and cutting down the key holder...

*LOW-PITCH YELL*

Then backhanding the would-be-monster in the face, much the shock of her and the human.

"*growl* What's wrong with you?!"

Shape rumbles like a furnace ready to blow.

"...Mine!"

He points his blade at the human that is too puzzled to flee even though she could. While understanding him, it doesn't really make the little beast any more accepting of the hit and she barks back at him.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

In her eyes...He sees that same spark in her eyes as he does in Laurie's. The lack of fear. His fire flares in intimidation, it fails on her. She takes a bracing stance before pouncing on him, the towering monster of flame throws her to the ground. She recovers quickly and attacks with all the precision of a charging rhino. It surprisingly takes some strength to hold her back and a greater surprise when she starts giving off a pure monster aura.

"I won't be treated like shit! Not by you! Not by them! Not by anyone! Do you understand?! No one!!"

He can feel it. She's pushing him back. The Entity is fueling her with strength to prolong her transformation. If this keeps up she might actually become a threat.

*whimper*

They both pause at the sudden sound. A slight look to the side shows the two remaining humans have gone to heal in some shrubbery. The realization hits Shape before her and he uses the confusion to stop this now...by punching her in the gut and stabbing her in the head. Little beast staggers drunkenly then falls over hard, not dead but incapacitated. More important matters are in order.

...

[Most interesting, little beast. The Entity never thought you would be so brazen. You have earned all that comes to you this trial.]

My eyes stiffly open. My head is pounding like it was hit by a truck. Every part of me feels like it hasn't moved in hours. With a shake of my head and a long yawn my senses return, I remember everything. I'm still in the trial.

*HIGH-PITCH SCREAM*

Laurie? Oh...Oh fuck, I cut Laurie bad. What the fuck Ace? What dick throws a teenager at a monster? I need to do something good for once.

Wearily, I get on my feet and head towards the yellow aura in the distance. I'm much slower than I remember being. Probably feeling exhausted. I hope to sleep after this. Feels like I might for a whole day. Heh...If only.

I make my way behind the houses and into a backyard. There, a hooked Laurie struggles against the Entity's claws by a grave. I ignore this weirdness and reach for her, the least I can do is free her.

"How are you alive"

I look at her funny as she grunts coming off the hook.

"What do you mean?"

"You took a knife to the brain!"

"What?"

I feel my head and my hair is sticky wet. Huh? Go figure. My focus is wavering and she snaps her fingers.

"Stay with me. We need to find Ace's key."

"Wait...You're not mad at me?"

I sound like a child afraid of being grounded.

"Mad? No."

"R-Really?"

She takes my hand and drags me along.

"Come on. We have to go before he comes back."

She seems to know where she's going. That's good. Why didn't Shape hook me? Did he expect me to bleed out? Makes sense to me.

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

"He's near."

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

She squeezes my hand.

"Laurie?"

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

Peering around some cover, we find Shape standing under an empty hook, most likely on top of the key.

"We need that key. He won't let us pop two gens and open the gate."

I don't think we're on good terms after my freak out. So asking him nicely is gonna be a no go.

She looks off in thought.

"I'll be bait..."

This takes me back.

"He'll chase me. I know he will. And when he's far enough away, you rush in and get the key."

I shake my head, both to get the dizziness to stop and to disagree.

"No. You can't risk it. If hooked again it's an automatic sacrifice."

"We have no choice. You're in no condition to evade him. It's the only option we have."

I'd like to say what I do next is selfless...But I know damn well it's not.

"New plan...I lure him out and you get the key."

"How? You can't possibly move as fast right now."

I rub my hands richly through my hair and coat my hands in what blood there is. I'm in the injured state so I know I'm still wounded and bleeding.

"Who said I have to be?"

It takes her a moment to put two and two together.

"Tell me what I need to do."

I smirk and give her the details.

...

It's quiet. Too quiet. No sound other than the crows. Shape stares out from his post over the key. He knows the women aren't dead. He saw the alert when Laurie was unhooked. If they're smart, they attempt to work on generators together. No sense trying for anything else. Of course, there's a shot another key will be in a chest somewhere. But the odds aren't favorable. And even if they do try repairing generators, his spot has the perfect range of both gates. This is territory after all, he knows it better than anyone else inside and out. There's nothing they can do to...

*HIGH-PITCH SHIRK*

...Surprise him?

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

No...She couldn't have. No human can attack another.

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

"Yo, big guy..."

She casually strolls onto the road and licks her hands. The crimson is incredibly noticeable on her skin.

"I see why you like her. She's fun to cut into."

Her cheeky smile makes him flare.

"Well, I'm off. Gonna go see if I can Mori her head off."

Human or monster, this little bitch needs to learn her place. You don't touch his Obsession!

"...No!"

She pauses and he bolts for her, the girl nearly leaps out of her skin before scampering on all fours. Something isn't right. There's an awkwardness in her gallop and she isn't dropping pallets. She turns around a large van but he retreats, heading back to ensure the key remains where he left it.

"Hey!"

He ignores her. It's not like he can't kill her at any point.

"Don't ignore me!"

Sudden weight hits his back. She's dared to leap on him like a crazy monkey. She's become a very annoying pest. Rather than grabbing her off, to teach her a lesson, he instead takes off running before leaping at a car and aiming for her to be slammed under his weight.

*ROAR*

The move works. She's off of him and indented firmly in the hood of a police car. She isn't going anywhere. Now to get back to the key before Laurie.

"I found it!"

Her voice echos. They baited him. Clever girls. Well, it's not like the weird one can get to her in time.

*grunt*

The sound of metal creaking as weight comes off it alerts him of his wrong thoughts. They lock eyes.

"In case you're wondering...That didn't count as a true attack."

A fiery roar bellows from Shape's core and another chase ensues. Now it's serious. She's slamming pallets and vaulting for shortcuts. Does she know he's not in tier 3 anymore and not at max speed? No, it doesn't matter. The longer the chase, the more he catches up to her and Laurie.

"Open it!"

His sight leaves the beast woman to see the blonde in the circle of benches with the key in hand. Laurie unlocks the hatch, the key staying in the latch and slowly dissolving away like a timer. Laurie leaps into the hatch and escapes in the darkness.

She gone...Laurie got away...And it's all this one's fault!

*HIGH-PITCH ROAR*

The stab catches her mid-stride, sending her tumbling and careening into a bench. This woman...This pain in the ass let his prey escape. She's just like Legion...trash.

[Such a shame. She was doing so well too. Oh well. Better luck next time then. Finish this, Grillby.]

Shape goes over to the pathetic wench and grabs her leg, dragging her over the still open hatch before pinning her partly to the ground with his blade. Panic has her clawing the ground yet she can't move without slicing into herself. The key fizzles out. The hatch violently snaps down on her and her roar is deafening out the sound of bones being crushed.

"... ... ... ..."

"*wincing* G-Go fuck yourself!"

Yep. Just like Legion.

The hatch opens, as she is the only remaining human in the trial. Yet he further denies her this freedom. He pulls her out, knife and all, then kicks the hatch closed. End Game Collapse has begun. She's doomed now. No key to re-open the hatch, no means of healing out of the dying state, no way of repairing generators, and no team to open the gate. She's all out of tricks and no amount of begging will work either.

"*coughing blood* Come on...Do it! Kill me!"

No. This one is not worth the use of his Mori or the glory of the hook. She will die right there. On the ground like the garbage she is. He walks off to destroy fallen pallets.

"*dying rage* D-Don't...Don't fucking ignore me! Kill me you flaming bastard!"

But her calls fall on deaf ears. Shape does not respond. The world rumble and the crows take the sky. She eventually becomes quiet. The sound of wood breaking is all he hears.

*SCREAMING ROAR*

That was a chilling sound if ever he heard one. The Entity has claimed her. It would be a kinder death if she had bled out, but he had no such pity for her. With her death, the trial is over and the world crumbles into a reset. He slowly removes his mask, letting his fire burn freely and stares off at the moon. Next time Laurie...Next time you won't escape.

"...Mine. Only mine."

[AT THE SURVIVOR'S CAMPSITE]

I wake up in a panic and thrash at the ground. Clawing at the dirt and biting obscenities due to the pain in my chest. It takes the combined efforts of David and Jeff to keep me still long enough to settle down. For once there is no fighting upon my return. Despite my actions, the others didn't point blame at me or tell me I'm a freak. Some wish to hear more of my aggressive turn on Shape while Laurie even goes as far as to offer to teach me one of her perks in thanks for escape. I decline for now, too shaken and sore to keep my thoughts straight. I need some time to myself. David, being my unofficial but probably gonna happen because it's obvious man, keeps an eye on me from his perch on the sitting log while I'm near the camp's border with my back to the others. The pain in my chest pleads for my attention. I don't wish for them to see this. I carefully recall the instructions Doctor gave me and summon my soul. The soft glow emanating from the multi-colored heart is warm. What ruins it are the scars. They've filled in again. Though...They don't look as bad. Shivers run through me as I slowly use my nails to scrape the blight out, wincing and whimpering when I can't hold back the pain. But I have to do this. If it buys me some time then it's worth it. It feels so weird. It's thick and oozy like blood yet solid like a clot. Gross.

[Elsewhere: Killer Shack]

*CLANG-CLANG*

"Tra la la. The meeting will now come to order."

Wraith materializes and gets the other killers' attention.

"It has come to our attention that something...odd...has taken place. Tra la la. Shape?"

Shape, leaning on a wall in the back, merely shrugs and looks at his knife as he recounts his trail.

"... ... ... .... ... ..."

The room is shocked.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE ATTACKED YOU?"

Trapper questions.

"... ..."

"DON'T BE A SMARTASS! I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID PERFECTLY FINE!"

"❄☟☜☠ 👎⚐☠🕯❄ 🕈✌💧❄☜ ❄✋💣☜ ✌💧😐✋☠☝ 💧❄🕆🏱✋👎 ✈🕆☜💧❄✋⚐☠💧. 💧☟✌🏱☜ 🕈✌💧 ✈🕆✋❄☜ 👍☹☜✌☼." (THEN DON'T WASTE TIME ASKING STUPID QUESTIONS. SHAPE WAS QUITE CLEAR.)

Doctor talks down to Trapper, earning him a nasty glare.

"Ah, it makes sense now. The girl is as rebellious as Legion. No wonder he chose her for Obsession."

Plague comments with a coy smile. Legion mumbles curses to himself under his breath.

"🏱☹☜✌💧☜...🕈☟✌❄ 🕈☜ 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎 👌☜ ☞⚐👍🕆💧✋☠☝ ⚐☠ ✋💧 ❄☟✌❄ ❄☟☜ ⚐👎👎✋❄✡ ✋💧 👍✌🏱✌👌☹☜ ⚐☞ ☠⚐❄ ⚐☠☹✡ ☝⚐✋☠☝ ✌☞❄☜☼ ⚐❄☟☜☼ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧📪 👌🕆❄ 🕆💧 ✌💧 🕈☜☹☹. 🏱☼⚐✞✋👎☜👎 💧☟☜🕯💧 👌☼⚐🕆☝☟❄ ❄⚐ ✋☼☜ ✌💧 ⚐🕆☼ ☞☜✋☼✡ ☞☜☹☹⚐🕈 ☟✌👎." (PLEASE...WHAT WE SHOULD BE FOCUSING ON IS THAT THE ODDITY IS CAPABLE OF NOT ONLY GOING AFTER OTHER HUMANS, BUT US AS WELL. PROVIDED SHE'S BROUGHT TO IRE AS OUR FEIRY FELLOW HAD.)

Doctor steps up to be front and center.

"✋ 🏱☼⚐🏱⚐💧☜ 🕈☜ 👍✌🏱❄🕆☼☜ ⚐🕆☼ 🕈✌✡🕈✌☼👎 💣☜💣👌☜☼ ✌☠👎 🏱🕆❄ ☟☜☼ ❄☟☼⚐🕆☝☟ ✌ 💧☜☼✋☜💧 ⚐☞ ❄☜💧❄💧..." (I PROPOSE WE CAPTURE OUR WAYWARD MEMBER AND PUT HER THROUGH A SERIES OF TESTS...)

"oh hell no!"

Legion barks.

"after that stunt you pulled, you aren't going near my human outside of trials."

The others look at Doctor suspiciously but all he does is look off to the side dismissively.

"🕈☟✌❄ 👎✋👎 ✡⚐🕆 ☜✠🏱☜👍❄✍ ✡⚐🕆 👌☼⚐🕆☝☟❄ ☟☜☼ ❄⚐ 💣☜. ✌ 💧⚐🕆☹ ☹✋😐☜ ❄☟✌❄📪 💧🕆👍☟ ✋💣🏱⚐💧✋👌☹☜ ☼✌☼✋❄✡📪 ✌💧 ✌ 💣✌☠ ⚐☞ 💧👍✋☜☠👍☜ ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ ❄✌😐☜ ✌☠✡ ✌☠👎 ☜✞☜☼✡ ⚐🏱🏱⚐☼❄🕆☠✋❄✡ ❄⚐ ��❄🕆👎✡ ☟☜☼. ☜✞☜☠ ✋☞ ✋❄ 💣☜✌☠💧 💧❄☜✌☹✋☠☝ ☟☜☼ ☞☼⚐💣 ✌ ☞⚐⚐☹ ☹✋😐☜ ✡⚐🕆." (WHAT DID YOU EXPECT? YOU BROUGHT HER TO ME. A SOUL LIKE THAT, SUCH IMPOSIBLE RARITY, AS A MAN OF SCIENCE I WILL TAKE ANY AND EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO STUDY HER. EVEN IF IT MEANS STEALING HER FROM A FOOL LIKE YOU.)

His blunt condescendence only makes Legion snarl.

"Anyway...Tra la la...Aside from that, this account marks another time the Master has gotten involved in trials the lamb was in. Tra la la. Any thoughts as to this development?"

"Ain't clear? It wants the punk to be more like us."

Huntress adds.

"While I agree, the timing is something needed to be taken into account."

Pig interjects.

"She's right. *cough* The Hallowed Blight will soon be here. The signs are starting to appear in my realm. *hack*"

Clown states.

"the hell is the hallowed blight?"

Ghost Face snickers to himself.

"what's so funny, robo-douche?"

"Heh...Oh, nothing. Just ignore me."

Legion rolls his sockets.

"can we skip all this filler bull and get to the point? tell me the challenge so i can leave you assholes to fuck all."

Is it any wonder why Legion isn't respected?

Wraith nods to Nurse and she approaches Legion.

"Very well. Take this and prepare. I would wish you luck but I rather see you swallow your pride in failure."

She hands over a scrap of folded paper and Legion takes it with malice.

"yeah? i'd tell you to break a leg but it looks like you're an overachiever there."

She hisses.

"Small moronic child."

"senile old goat."

A stare down happens for a few moments before Legion takes his leave.

"...anyone else hoping that fucker gets taken this time?"

Nightmare asks, to which many of them nod in agreement.

[IN THE SURVIVOR'S FOREST]

It had been enough time in their minds. Surely she had settled down since that dumb shit went down in Léry's. And even if she hadn't, it doesn't matter, she owes them a favor she can't refuse. She belongs to them...To Legion. Plus they needed to go over the challenge so it's not like this was a social call.

{do you really think now's a good time? what if she's all worked up and the other humans spot us?}

Boo points out.

{don't be such a little bitch. we went out yesterday. we ain't goin' today.}

Chops berates.

{sounds like someone is uncertain. do not have doubts, boo. we are legion. we are only as strong as we are united.}

Dead-Eye spouts whimsically.

{*scoff* what went up your ass and made ya say such pussy shit?}

{your mom after i fucked her to death.}

{oh, ya one-eyed freak! ya wanna go?! 'cause that's what's gonna happen if ya say shit like that!}

{you do not have the guts, little man.}

"shut the fuck up, both of you! we need to focus."

Bones reprimands.

"all we have to do is stay hidden, get her attention, and lead her out here for a chat. easier than stealing chili from cannibal."

{big talk comin' from the guy that wanted to switch out to boo like a wuss forgetting we can only swap in our realm.}

Bones ignores the obvious rage-inducing jab. His sights set on more important things. Light catches his eyes. The campfire is near. And it isn't too long before he's reached the treeline.

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

She's close. That's helpful. Even more helpful was a sudden movement in the corner of his eye. She stands near the edge of the camp, her hands full of glowing goop.

"Yo, David..."

She looks over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the haunting faint blue of Bones' eyes in the shadows. The sight has her forget momentarily what she was doing.

"Need somethin', Luv?"

A male built like a house sitting on a log speaks. Upon closer inspection, the guy is recognized as a notorious jackass among monsters. Great. She's close to that schmuck. Figures.

"I...I need to get rid of this gunk. I'll be right back."

The gruff man nods.

"Stay close. I don't like ya bein' out of my sight for too long."

Well, that didn't sound like a creepy dick thing to say.

"Will do."

She makes her way into the woods and he slowly follows. A fair out of earshot distance is reached before she digs into the ground with her shoe's heel.

"So...How long have you been watching?"

He leans on a tree near her. Better to keep some space if she is feeling crazy.

"not long. just got here. um...is that...?"

"Yep."

With a deep enough hole made, she kneels and drops the goop in.

"After the trial I had, I needed to clean out my scars."

She covers the blight and turns to him.

"they any worse since last time?"

"Not really."

"good."

"Bones, I get the feeling you're not here to ask about how my soul is."

He nods, retrieving the paper from his pocket and unfolding it.

"we got our first challenge."

A serious expression comes to her.

"Go on."

He reads.

"hit all 4 humans within a single use of feral frenzy with the last hit being on the obsession."

"How hard is that on the difficulty scale?"

"our power is feral frenzy. while feral frenzy is active, we move faster and gains access to the additional abilities of pallet vault and feral slash. hitting a human with a feral slash puts them into the injured state and inflicts the deep wound status effect. additionally, this refills our power and all humans within our terror radius not already afflicted with the deep wound have their location revealed to us. if the hit human was already afflicted with deep wound or we miss the attack, feral frenzy ends immediately. hitting a human with a basic attack while feral frenzy is not active will deplete the power by half of its maximum."

"In simple terms?"

"*huff* feral frenzy lasts for ten seconds, not counting add-ons or hitting boosts. so unless the four of you are within forty meters of us, it's going to be pretty damn hard."

She folds her arms.

"So we're fucked then?"

"i didn't say that..."

He pushes off the tree to stand near her.

"we've done this before. it's hard, but not impossible. the tricky part will be hitting you last. might take a few tries to nail."

She closes her eyes in thought.

"True. I'm the only one cooperating. The most I can do is try to keep the group together and push others to be in your path so I'm the last one. Other than that I can't see much else I can do."

"that's more than what we'd get without you."

Her eyes open, holding a slight sadness to them.

"what? what's with that look?"

"Huh? Nothing. Just overthinking."

He doesn't really care.

"about what?"

Yet he still asked. A weak smile graces her.

"Was...Was Shape mad at me?"

The fuck?

"what?"

"I know. You don't have to say it. I'm aware of how stupid that sounds. But...*sigh* I don't know. He didn't seem like such a bad guy. And then I went all beast mode on him. Ugh...Human, Monster...No matter what, I end up ruining anything good that potentially comes my way."

Such a pity party made him sick.

"who cares..."

He puts his hands behind his head.

"it doesn't matter what the others think. nothing in life comes easy. you just got to live for yourself and flip the rest of the world off. otherwise, you'll lose yourself trying to be something your not."

She stares at him funny.

"I think that's the nicest thing you've said to me so far."

"*scoff* don't get used to it."

"And here I thought Boo was the nice guy."

Her tease has his cheekbones lightly gaining some color. It pisses him off.

"don't make me stab you. you know i will."

"Fine, be that way. I was only trying to compliment you. I don't know what it is, but the moment we seem to get along, you default to 'gonna stab you'. Makes it really hard to want to try in this partnership."

She moves to pass him and head back to camp...but he grabs her arm.

"we didn't say you could go yet."

She eyes him funny.

"What else is there to say?"

He smirks.

"i'll owe you for it. nothing will be off the table. i promise. those were your words, remember?"

He feels her stiffen in his grasp.

"I said that to Chops. Not you."

He chuckles.

"how easily forget....we are legion. the four of us are one. what you say to one is said to us all."

She cuts an f-bomb off by biting her tongue.

"Fine. A deal's a deal, loophole or not. I don't break my promises."

His grin widens and she sneers.

"now don't be that way. i've already told you we're not like that."

She shoots him a look.

"Oh? And I suppose the knife blowjob was just a cute gesture of friendship!"

If Bones could mentally kick Chops and Dead-Eye's asses he would curb-stomp their tibias to dust.

"that...that was...uh...*groan* that's what happens when dumbasses think they can get away with stupid shit because they feel like badasses. i had nothing to do with that."

Much to her uncertainty, he lets her go and some of her guard is put down.

"ask yourself this...have i done anything like that to you?"

She sighs through her nose.

"No. You haven't. You've had the opportunity to, but didn't. So...what is it that you want then?"

He circles her a bit before stopping behind her and leaning near her ear.

"before our trial together, come to mount ormond resort. and wear something a bit more...comfortable."

Taking his words the wrong way, she spins around to slap him...but her hand is caught with ease.

"heh, too easy."

"You two-faced pervert!"

He glares.

"you were freezing your ass off last time. maybe get a jacket or something. dumbass."

Her expression softens.

"I...I'm sorry."

"damn right you're sorry."

He pushes her away.

"i like fucking with you. don't confuse that for anything else."

She pouts. This is far from the same woman that tussled with Shape.

"you can go now. we've said all we had to."

Now it's his turn to leave.

"Wait, Bones..."

Maybe it was the slight urgency in her voice or the quick footsteps that made an effort to go after him, but despite better judgment Bones comes to a stop. He wearily looks back at her from over his shoulder.

"I...I know that you all have names. Real names. Not just the ones given by the Entity or humans."

Where is she going with this?

"When I heard Doctor call himself W.D. Gaster...I've been questioning if the names you guys gave me are real or not. It's a big line I'm crossing by asking...yet...What is your true name?"

It's weird when she thinks. Such random things alter her personality. Things like this made her soft. And soft is not as appealing as one might think. Looks weak. Bones doesn't like weak.

"what if they aren't our real names? what does it matter to you?"

Her eyes dart from his, to his back, the ground, and then the emptiness behind her lids. She shakes her head and turns her back on him, slowly walking off. Why? Why did this bug him? No snarky retort or fake dismissal to cover up still intact curiosity? Just...Nothing? That...bitch!

"lynsie..."

She pauses though doesn't look at him. It pisses him off more. He runs up and punches her in the back of the head.

"Ow! The fuck's your issue?!"

"my issue? knock this shit off. it's pathetic."

"Man, fuck you."

"fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

"fuck you, infinity!"

They glare harshly at one another. Teeth bared and growling. Tension building like a shaken soda can. This was better. There was determination in her eyes. He tosses her a bone.

"*huff* get your crap together and maybe i'll tell you later."

She becomes confused. Like that's something new.

"Tell me what later?"

He shakes his head with a small laugh.

"you're hopeless. you know that? think about it."

He takes his leave once more.

"later, meat."

He's already hidden among the darkness and trees when he hears her voice a final time.

"Thank you!"

Humble chuckles escape him.

{what's so funny, bones?}

Boo questions innocently.

"just thinking that we have an odd taste in women."

The other voices in his head fall silent, making him laugh. Things are going to get interesting next time.

[AT THE SURVIVOR'S CAMPSITE]

I arrive back at camp with no trouble. A few questionable looks are shot for how long I was gone and the shouting heard. But fuck'em. Bones is right. Screw what they think. I need to return to how I used to be before I got here. I need to focus on myself.

"Everythin' alright, Luv?"

...With maybe a random exception here or there.

"Yeah..."

I sit beside David.

"I'm feeling a lot better now."

He smirks and puts his arm around me. Nothing in life comes easy. But this? This right here? This is worth fighting for. I lay my head on his shoulder and enjoy the peace for however long it may last.

[IN THE SURVIVOR'S FOREST]

The black dirt shifts ever so slightly. A tiny withered husk barely breaches the surface with renewed life having soaked in the tainted goo that was buried atop it. This undead seed cracks. The top of its shell giving way to a small seedling. A sprout paradoxically enlivened by its death. The first Pustula has emerged. The season of Blight is nigh. And with it, hell itself is to be unleashed.

[angrylizardjacket]

Run to Paradise {Nikki Sixx} Part 25

25. you can rely on me (i will always let you down)

Summary: Razzle and Lola talk about Lola’s past. Lola gets drugged and not in the fun way. Nikki and Lola have a heart to heart.

Warnings: drugging (ketamine), swearing, homophobic slur (d)

ragtag bunch of misfits: @starlalove @toofasttofallinlove  @xrosegoldwolfx @obsessivesky  @trpwthme @lovehelpmewrite @angelicjoonie23  @marvelismylifffe  @lilytalebi @glitterdreamsz  @freddiessmallnipples @crazysaladchopshop @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @dramatique-moi @missqueeniewrites @calspixie  @aryssav @catsoo12  @sweetshutter @silvertonguedserpent  @shamelessobsessions @lavenderbones22  @keepcalm-and-beyou @scarecrowmax  @nicholeh7 @unknownoblivion @sighsophiia

{masterlist}

Lola's never bothered much with Hanoi Rocks, despite the fact that they'd been opening for Motley this past tour; she liked them well enough, though she was almost certain she could probably snap Razzle in half if she wanted to. She was also half-convinced he'd enjoy it.  

But the point is, she doesn't fuck with Hanoi Rocks, or fuck Hanoi Rocks. Much. A little bit. Not enough to be noteworthy; Lola fucks everyone, it's not like one band, or a few members of one band, were anything to write home about.

And maybe she doesn't fuck with them because Vince is the one who spends a the most time with them, and Vince has Sharise now, and Tommy's been sort of clingy since everything happened with Roxie, not that Lola was complaining. She'd never complain; she's exactly where she wants to be, because when she's not wrapped up in Tommy, she's got Nikki with her. Nikki himself is not used to her having another favourite so openly, so honestly, he's not used to feeling like second best. They're all unhealthy, quietly obsessed with each other, and almost toxically insular.

Razzle's learned not to ask, he just enjoys Lola's company when he gets it; she pretends not to play favourites with her boys, but is under no such illusion regarding other bands. Despite this, he thinks she's rather funny, surprisingly hard working, and charming when she wants to be. It's easy to see how she'd endeared herself to all of them.

"How'd you get your start with them?" Razzle asks, smile bright and genuinely curious, sitting on the edge of the stage, watching Lola set up with the rest of the roadies. She's on her stomach, reaching under the drum risers for a lead that's almost out of reach, and pauses, turning to face the Drummer. Expression amused, she rested her chin on the stage and hummed for a moment.

"Forgot people don't know that anymore," she mused.

"Anymore?"

She pauses before turning her head back to the drum risers. Swiftly, she pulls the cord through and connects it to the one in her other hand before shoving back under. Razzle still watches, fascinated a little by her diligence; his first impressions of her had been so off base.

"So before I was 'Motley Crue's sort-of-manager-and-girlfriend'" she stood, making her way over to him, and he tried out some excuse, tried to play it off like that wasn't his immediate reaction to her, to the gossip that had been surrounding her. Instead of being irritated or angry, she smiled; "I had made quite a name for myself in LA - both for reputable reasons and... not so reputable reasons." Sitting beside him, she leaned back on her hands, looking at him. "You know The Skyhooks, right?"

"Of course, love, whadd'ya take me for?" He snorted, and Lola's smile turned a little proud.

"You know Bondage on the Boulevarde?" She asked. Razzle nodded, and Lola just pointed to herself. After a beat, Razzle almost launched himself off the front of the stage he was laughing so hard.

"You're joking, you're bloody well joking!" Amusement sparkled in his eyes, and Lola shook her head, mirroring his smile with one of her own.

"Nope; they make a note of me looking for rope because I refused to be tied up with a microphone cord." She explained, half laughing, and Razzle raised his eyebrows at her. "I was a roadie before I was anything else."

"You roadied for the Skyhooks back in -?" and he tried to calculate, but Lola beat him to it.

"Well actually, I followed them after their gig at the Starwood back in 'seventy-seven, I think? I had actually been working for another band that night," she shifted a little, gaze drifting up as she tried to recall the memory, "I was fully intending to rob them blind - band stuff was expensive and it was easier for me to get that shit, uh, "for cheap" than it was Nikki," she explained, but shrugged, "but I got caught and they were fucked up and they thought I was just another friskey groupie; what was I gonna do, correct them?"

"A roadie and a thief, Miss Gone -"

"Hey!" Lola protests, faux offended, before breaking out into a cheeky smile, "Roadie, thief, and whore; I'm a triple threat, Mister Dingley." She pokes at his chest, before smiling out at the empty audience, sitting on her hands.

"Threat's definitely the word for it," Razzle snickered, giving her bicep a quick squeeze, though there was nothing malicious in his tone. After a moment, he pets the inked on hair of her mermaid tattoo in a fond gesture that he's not sure she'd even noticed. "So you've known them a while? Roadied for them all this time?"

"Only started helping manage them because they wouldn't let Doc fire me."

"Loyal lads, though that almost goes without saying; how long have you all known each other?"

And he's watching her as she thinks, turns the question over in her mind, broken only by Nikki's shout -

"Lo!"

"Niks, how long have we known each other?" She counters with, laying back on the stage, looking over at him. Nikki thinks for a moment.

"How old were you when we met?"

"I don't have to answer that."

"And how old are you now?"

"Rude," Lola plays at being offended, sticking her nose up and pouting, raising her voice an octave to play up the ridiculousness of the situation; "didn't your mother ever teach you to never ask a lady-"

"She didn't, and you're barely a lady, Lo." Nikki snorts, but he's approaching them with a fond familiarity that Razzle doesn't seem him with around anyone else. He's already in costume, in his full platform boots, but his hair and face is untouched; it's probably why he'd been looking for her. There's a bottle of booze in his hand.

As he approaches, Lola seems to relax, grinning and almost giggling.

"Gimme some," she points at the bottle, and Nikki raises his eyebrows at her. Standing over her, he opens the bottle without breaking eye contact, and takes a mouthful. Razzle is frowning with confusion. "Do not spit it into my mouth like I'm a baby bird." Lola tells the bassist flatly, and Nikki raises his eyebrows at her, before he shrugs, opens his mouth, and lets the alcohol spill on Lola despite her protests; she doesn't sit up fast enough, and is covered with it, spluttering and wet and smelling like bourbon.

"Help me with my hair," Nikki tells her flatly after deliberately spitting the last little bit at her, wearing a grin that's all teeth, hearing Razzle's raucous laughter, and seeing Lola clamber to her feet.

"I'm gonna kill you so much, you rotten fucking cockroach bastard!" She hollers, chasing Nikki off the stage, though her hair's soaked up most of the bourbon. Nikki looks smug when he leaves his dressing room for the final sound check later on, and from what Razzle can see, Lola's strung out, laughing and stumbling as she's being pulled by Doc out of Nikki's room.

She may be a wildcard, but there's no-one else who can pull the band in line like she can.

From observations, it seems like; on his own, Tommy is the hardest to reign in, with Nikki being a close second, and when they're together, well The Terror Twins work hard for their nickname, and Doc alone stands no chance in Hell, and sometimes trying to get them to cooperate gets physical. Vince is more docile, but only in comparison, and Mick will do anything Doc or Lola tells him, as long as it gives him the moral high ground, any sense of superiority, or a nap.

Lola's the wild card in this situation; if she's being egged on by Nikki or Tommy, she'd walk barefoot through coals and then kick Doc for fun, if she's being egged on by both Nikki and Tommy, it inevitably ends up devious and sexual. If she's trying to get them to be responsible, well Tommy practically melts under her touch, he's not hard won, and Nikki won't admit it, but he's willing to concede on certain matters of business. Ahem. "Business".

But the point is, in the right mood, Lola says jump, Motley Crue asks how high?

And isn't that a sight to behold.

The only thing Lola loves even half as much as her boys is drugs, which she confined in Razzle while rolling up a hundred dollar bill, a mirror with lines of coke already cut, balancing on her knees. He's got an arm thrown over the back of the sofa, with Vince flirting loudly with a groupie on his other side. The others had left the dingy house party about half an hour in, but Vince had caught Lola's hand, asked her to stay in a soft, almost pleading voice, and she caved almost immediately.

As much as Lola was able to manipulate the band, it went both ways.

"Huh?" Razzle asked, pleasantly drunk and a little high, Lola looks up, eyes wide, pupils dilated.

"Nothing burns the bad shit away like coke," she says, surprisingly serious, and Razzle raises his eyebrows at her, watches her blink, "or acid, molly, I'm not a fan of weed, uh," she pauses, leaning forward, and inhaling two lines of coke in rapid succession. Watching with quiet amusement, when she lift her head, Razzle gently takes the mirror from her grip, and snorts the remaining line.

And she says she's fine. He looks at her smile and he can believe it. But when a woman she doesn't know offers her 'something better' for burning the bad shit away, she takes his hand, a hungry look in her eyes, and Razzle can't even begin to imagine what terrible shit she'd still be able to remember after all her years of partying.

Lola's led to the bathroom, asked to take off her jacket and sit on the edge of the tub, and she's more than willing to comply, watching but not quite comprehending as the woman fills a syringe with something from a little, medical bottle.

"You're not sticking shit in me," the words tumble from her lips, and part of her fights not to laugh, because that might be the first time she's ever said those words to anyone, "I don't inject shit-"

"I promise, I promise," she's slurring her words, swaying a little, which did not inspire confidence, "baby girl, you're gonna love it; burnin' shit away? K has got you covered." She assured, tapping the syringe and squirting out the bubble.

"I don't inject-"

"It's not as scary as it look, just makes you feel like you're floating," the woman smiles, gaze unfocused, her red lipstick smeared, and Lola can feel the coke hitting her while her awareness is trying to sharpen. "What's got you so worried -?"

"Shooting up is a slippery fucking slope," Lola's jaw is set in a tight line, her mind flashing to bleary memory of Nikki and Tommy freaking out, finding Vince on the bathroom floor with a needle in his arm.

"Oh yeah," the girl snorted, stepping into Lola's space, "Ketamine's a slippery slope alright." She rolled her eyes, tone nothing but sarcastic as she reached out with shaking hands to wipe white, powdery residue off her nose. "Listen, if you don't want any, tell me right now, just say 'I don't want any'," her fingers moves from Lola's cheek to gently graze down her arm, pausing to press against the soft skin of her inner arm, near her elbow. Goosebumps began to rise on Lola's arm.

"Why are you just offering me this shit?" Lola asked, voice surprisingly hesitant and raspy.

"Because you walked into my house with Vince fucking Neil," the girl answered with a smile, "that alone made me think you were someone I could actually party with."

Swallowing hard, Lola averted her gaze, taking the needle from the woman.

"Your hands are shaking," Lola tells her, and the woman laughs.

"So are yours?"

"All of me is always shaking; my vibrations match up," Lola mused, looking at her inner arm while the girl hummed in amusement, "all of it?"

"If you're up for it."

Lola hesitates, arm out, pulse beating quickly in her ears. The needle hesitates over her skin before she steels her resolve and breaks her skin. She can feel the cool liquid as it enters her bloodstream, which is disconcerting enough, but when she's finished injecting, she takes out the needle, hands it back, and closes her eyes tightly, the heel of her hand applying pressure to the injection site as she breathes deeply.

"Aw, baby's first shot." The woman coos, and okay, it comes across a little mean, but Lola's kind of into it. It kind of reminds her of Nikki, who would flip his fucking lid if he knew what she was doing. He had been the one to figure out that Vince was injecting coke, and the one who'd reacted strongest to the proof.

"Shut up," Lola growled, looking up to see the woman smirking at her. Lola stands abruptly, steps into the woman's space, and kisses her hard.

And the woman slaps her.

It's not that Lola's never been slapped before, it's just that the past thirty seconds have been somewhat of a rollercoaster, and the last thing she'd expected from the woman who'd pressured her into Ketamine and given her gentle touches, was a look of disgust.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" The woman hisses.

"So you weren't flirting with me -?" Lola asks, but her heart's beating fast enough that the drugs are already flooding her system; having already come into this being pretty drunk and high, she's in no shape to fight. The dose the woman had given her was definitely more than a first time user should have taken.

"I was trying to get you fucked up on K so I could fuck Vince Neil and that English dude without you getting in the way!" The girl spits, and Lola's body doesn't know how to respond. This is a new situation to her, completely foreign.

"He's got a -" Lola's voice is weak, the world is turning blurry at the edges of her vision, "he's got a fiance." Lola tries. "Baby." She adds.

"So? She's not here, is she?" The woman sneers, arms crossed. "Now get the fuck out of my house." And she calls Lola a word that has Lola's blood boiling; she might not be at peak fighting condition, but she still doesn't pull her punches. The woman's face hits the mirror, which shatters, and Lola quick to stumble from the room.

"We gotta, we gotta go," Lola trips over the corner of the sofa, falling into Razzle, "please, Raz, we gotta, Vince, please -"

"Lo, are you okay?" Vince asks, and Lola's shaking, feels sick to her stomach. She scrambles from Razzle's lap into Vince's, taking his face in her hands.

"Vinny please, Lover Boy, please, anywhere but here, anywhere but here."

"What are you on, baby?" Vince asks, gentle, much more gentle than Razzle had expected.

"Shot up some K, and then- fuck- knocked out the host -"

"You knocked out the host?" Vince laughed quietly, though he was helping Lola to her feet already. After a beat, however, his expression turned concerned, "you- you're joking, right Lo? You didn't - fuck, you know how the band got when they -"

"When they found you shooting up coke, I know," Lola was panicking, genuinely panicking, which Vince was pretty sure he'd never seen before, "Nikki's gonna be so fucking disappointed in me, fuck." And in that moment, it all made sense.

Vince and Razzle accompany Lola back to the hotel they'd been staying at, before the two of them headed back out to find Nikki and Tommy; the night was still young after all.

When Nikki comes back, Lola's showered and is tucked up in bed, shivering and looking rather sickly, a glass of water on her bedside table. It's a surprisingly sweet sight, and her eyes shine in the light of the hall, letting him know she's still awake. Nikki's humming something, but doesn't say anything; Vince hadn't outed her completely, just said she'd had a bad trip. When he crawls into bed after stripping off his leathers, smelling like booze and sweat, Lola buries little further into the duvet.

"I don't think I'm gonna fuck groupies anymore." She says, barely loud enough for him to hear, but he does anyway, and grins up at the ceiling, his eyes closed.

"All mine," he says easily, though if he was any more sober, Lola's pretty sure he wouldn't have dared to say it out loud.

"And Tommy's." Lola corrects, and if Nikki were any more sober, she wouldn't have said it either.

"And Tommy's." Nikki nods, sagely, though he doesn't even sound a little jealous. The silence that hangs in the air is almost stifling Lola, nervous energy pooling in her stomach, tears welling in her eyes. She feels like she's going to be sick. Again.

"Nikki, I fucked up."

"'d you fuck Razz?" Nikki asks with a half laugh, and Lola cleared her throat. "You know that's not - I don't care who you fuck, Lols, I'm over that -"

"I shot up ketamine and then knocked out the girl who gave it to me 'cos she called me a bulldyke." Lola blurted, choking on her fears in the silence.

"What was it like?" Nikki asked, finally. Lola swallowed hard. "K, what was it like?"

"I was already fucked up, it just made me all slow and sick and blurry."

"You alright now?"

"No."

He's never seen her scared of being high before.

"It's like you always fuckin' said, alright, injecting shit is a slippery slope." There's a tremble in Lola's voice, and Nikki moves on instinct, shuffling over, throwing the blankets off of them and wrapping her up in his arms. Lola hugs him back, shivering and sniffling. "I'm sorry."

"Fuck, man, don't apologise to me," Nikki huffs, rubbing her back, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead. "You're an adult, you don't need to apologise to anyone."

"I just feel so fucking stupid, I'd do just about anything for a decent lay, God, I really just think with my cunt, don't I?" Lola grumbled, burying her face against Nikki's chest. Nikki just holds her a little tighter. "Niks, she drugged me, gave me a huge dose so she could sleep with Vince and I wouldn't get in the way." Lola admits, voice barely a whisper. "She used me."

"She could have killed you." Nikki's voice is suddenly rough, angry.

"I got them out of there, got Vince and Razz out before it hit too hard, but-"

"Lo, she could have killed you, you should have gone to fucking hospital."

Lola is silent at that, heart in her throat and tears in her eyes. Nikki's fingers map the familiar geography of her back, of the scarring there that never seems to get any better, despite all the years he's known her.

"I love you."

"I know, Nikki, I lo-"

"Lo, I can't let you fucking die without having you hear this; I don't care if you're in love with Tommy or whatever, if there's anyone I'm be happy to share you with, it's T-Bone, but I need you to know I've loved you since I met you, alright? Since you were sixteen and you trusted me enough to go out on the town with me, fuck, I can't believe you trusted me - I can't believe you still trust me," he paused, "but I'm so fucking glad you do. After all the shit we've been through, the fact that you still love me in any capacity, that's a damn miracle, you know?"

Lola's crying now, quietly, where she's curled up against Nikki, still feeling nauseous and blurry and shakey, and everything that's happened in the past seven years manages to blow through her mind, overwhelming her in an instant.

"I ran away to LA with you, fucking hell, Nikki, of course I love you, of course I trust you, how can you not see that you've been my entire fucking world for years?" She asks, and she can't look up, can't look him in the eyes, her hands flat on his back, her nails digging into his skin ever so slightly. "I'd follow you to Hell."

Nikki's gentle when he brings Lola's face up to look at him, and there's tear track on her cheeks, while her eyes are red and a little glassy.

"The world still a little blurry?" He asks with a half smile, and a Lola swallows hard.

"The only thing that's making sense is you." And it's cheesy, but it makes Nikki's heart beat just a little faster. He kisses Lola hard, pulling her flush against him, his hands in her hair and on her hip.

They don't fuck, Lola's still fragile from almost overdosing, but Nikki doesn't let her go. They fall asleep like that, wrapped up in one another, coming down from their respective highs, and when Nikki wakes with Lola in his arms, and realises that it hadn't been a dream, something in his chest eases.

[xx-sikki-nixx-xx]

NSFW A-Z

Tommy Lee

requested by @fan-with-issues

Aftercare(what they’re like after sex)

As we all know Tommy is a hopeless romantic so after sex he is very attentive and loving, Kissing your forehead and playing with your hair, he loves to pamper his girl so even though he isn’t always the most affectionate (especially around the band) after you two finish he is the most lovey dovey boy you’ll ever meet.

Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

Let's be real here Tommy loves boobs… it's just the truth he loves your boobs no matter what size he thinks they’re as he would say “awesome” he loves playing with them and watching them bounce up and down when you’re on top. He also steals your bras so you have to go braless in public because he likes to watch you when it gets cold (if you get what I mean) 

 Cum (anything to do with cum…basically I’m a disgusting person)

Tommy likes to cum inside of you obviously but when you won't let him because you don’t need a baby any time soon he likes to cum on your stomach, as for your cum when you two are finished he likes to lick you clean because he loves the way you taste and he likes to make you feel like the princess you are. 

Dirty secret  (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Tommy is pretty much an open book but the one thing he doesn’t tell people is that once he had a threesome with none other than Nikki Sixx and some groupie they met on tour… doesn’t seem like a big deal but the thing is some gay stuff may have kinda happened due to intoxication and from that day forward Nikki and Tommy swore never to speak of it again.

Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) 

C'mon we all know that Tommy Lee has had his fair share of experience and for sure knows exactly what he’s doing, it only took him one time with you to know exactly what you like and what it takes to make you cum and he imploys that method every time you two fuck to make sure you have the best time possible because as previously mentioned Tommy is big on making you feel good.

 Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Our boy Tommy loves doggy style because it gives him all kinds of possibilities, he can grab your boobs, he can pull your hair, he can choke you, he can rub your clit it's perfect for him and he loves how deep he can go in doggy style… not that it’s necessary seeing as we all know about Tommy’s 10 inch situation

 Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Tommy’s a goofball so yeah sex like the rest of his life isn’t very serious, especially because now that he trusts you he feels he can let loose and be himself. His favorite thing to do is look up at you while he’s eating you out and wiggle his eyebrows which always insights a giggle from you. 

 Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

Tommy is a little narcissistic so he likes to be groomed, he had pubes but they’re trimmed nicely so that they don’t get in the way or tickle your face when you give him blowjobs. Yes the carpet matches the drapes it's a nice warm tone shade of black just like his beautiful head of hair.

Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Tommy goes all out on romantic occasions, for instance for your one year anniversary he did the whole cliche rose petals and scented candles and red velvet bed sheets, that night after a delicious dinner he managed to cook without burning the sex was like every romantic comedy ever, slow, gentle, romantic, passionate, missionary looking into each others eyes with a lot of kissing. Not something you want all of the time because you also love the rough angry sex you two have but it was a sweet gesture.

 Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Tommy isn’t big of Jacking off because sex is 90% to pleasure you but occasionally he gets an inconveniant boner that he needs to get rid of quickly and you aren’t always around to help so he’ll occasionally finish himself off in his hand but very rarely.

Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Tommy LOVES handcuffs… why? Because when you two are doing doggy style he likes to cuff your hands behind your back to prevent you from trying to put the focus on him because he wants to be in control and keep the focus on you. Another kink Tommy is really into is spanking, when he’s going at it from behind he likes to land a few hard slaps on your ass to watch you jump and squirm, he’s not into it because it puts you in pain he’s into it because he likes to hear you whimper and ask for another because you both know you secretly like it but you’d never admit it to Tommy.

Location (Favourite places to do the do)

ANYWHERE AND EVERYWHERE… enough said.

Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Tommy is very easy to turn on… even looking at him a certain way gets him like an overstimulated puppy bouncing up and down and begging to be touched, but his favorite thing is thigh riding especially if you are trying to pretend that you aren’t doing it like if you’re out at a bar with the guys sitting on his lap and you suddenly get horny so you discreetly grind down on his thigh to relieve some of your needs, it really gets him going knowing how desperate his babygirl is for him and he will as soon as possible drag you to the nearest bathroom to help you with your desires.

 NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Tommy’s not into knife play or blood play, he’ll do almost anything else but he doesn’t like the idea of doing that to you because you are his beautiful perfect princess and he would be too scared that he’d cut too deep and seriously hurt you, besides he doesn’t need knives to mark you as his… that’s what hickeys are for. He also isn’t into shit or piss for obvious reasons (that’s just too far for him)

Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Tommy loves to eat you out because as previously stated he loves to make you feel good and the best way to do that is with his tongue and fingers so he’ll suck and lick and kiss you for as long as it takes to make you cum, Tommy also likes receiving I mean how could he not but he usually doesn’t make you and when you try he’ll say “baby you don’t gotta do that, I can get off fucking you, I do it to you because you need a little more help finishing and I love you” and then he’ll kiss your forehead like the sweetheart he is.

Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends on the mood tbh like most of the time it’s rough but passionate but there are times when Tommy’s feeling extra cuddly and he’ll take his time more kissing every inch of your body and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

 Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Tommy isn’t a fan of quickies because he always feels guilty after a quickie because he feels like he hasn’t got the chance to pleasure you as much as he’d like to so he rathers to take his time but occasionally like when he’s on tour he’ll resort to a quickie before a show or some similar situation.

Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Tommy likes to experiment but tbh you two have already tried everything because he likes to experiment so much that it all happened very quickly in the relationship. 

 Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

A LONG ASS TIME to the point that if you two decide to have sex one night you two usually finish and realise it’s time to get up for the day. 

 Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Nope Tommy doesn’t have toys because weather it’s on you or himself he likes to do everything his own way by himself without help from toys. 

Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Tommy isn’t a big teaser because he ends up feeling bad and having to make it up to you, but he has his moments where he’s pure evil especially when you’ve been teasing him all day he can be especially cruel. 

Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Tommy isn’t big on noise but he lets out a few cute grunts when he’s about to cum, but he heavily encourages you to be very vocal because he loves to hear what he does to you, his heart swells with pride at every moan, squeal and little grunt you make. 

Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Tommy has this big fantasy of watching you with another man preferably with one of his band mates, he loves watching your movements when you have sex with him and he loves the idea of getting to watch you from a third person angle. 

X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

BITCH IF YOU HAVEN’T CAUGHT UP YET TOMMY LEE HAS A 10 INCH COCK OK SO YOUR WELCOME 

Yearning (How high is their sex drive?

As high as Nikki Sixx in the late 80’s (sorry I’m a bad person) but Tommy is almost always at least a little horny and can spring to action at any moment you need him which is very helpful in your opinion. 

ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

After about 5 or 6 rounds in one night Tommy is out like a light afterwards, of course he’ll take the time to clean you up, make sure your comfortable and cuddle you up in his chest but after that he’s asleep almost immediately but that’s ok because so are you.