#pig glove puppets

[hogwash-deli]

Steffi and Thorsten - two ‘hand puppets’, created and played by the German cabaret artist Michael Hatzius. The environmentally conscious but submissive wild boar Thorsten and the hedonistic sow Steffi are an odd couple who often take up political issues in a satirical way.

[ringleaderising]

After the Fall || The Host

A great body lies picked clean by the opportunistic flock, and fledgling settlements grow within the grand bones incapable of removal- for the living, the work has begun on a new future.

But for the Host, the sun rises on a trial by a jury of Encore's peers.

[Puppeteer, Magda] [Mithos, Stygian] [Encore, Crux]

Content Warnings: Descriptions of gore!

"Hideous living things... traipsing about with their... free will." The valley below is alive with life even in the darkness of night, the constant chattering of construction crews harvesting and working bone into useable pieces for the slowly growing marketplace and housing in the body of the fallen 'God' below. "Now we are working at a deficit, and they are celebrating as if they've been given a feast- what a pitiful performance he gave. Almost not worth the effort retrieving him."

"Puppeteer, talking to yourself again?" The Skydancer woman adjusts her cane in her hand, head inclining toward the sound of another arrival's voice- the cloying, perfumed scent of roses making it clear who the arrival is, even if she can't see the imperial sidling up behind her, exposed golden bones entangled with flora catching in the gentle breeze passing through the Emperor's Wake. "I thought we were past that little... idiosyncrasy."

"Silence yourself, Heathen. I am not talking to myself. Magda is here."

"Ah yes, of course, we can't do this without Miss mud and detritus can we? Where have you gone then, Maggie?" His voice carries, and as he turns his head to look around, leaning into his spear for balance, Mithos scowls. "Mm, I see. You've misplaced your gravedigger, Puppeteer- perhaps we should keep a better eye-"

"....." He's cut off by the sudden, violent thud of a large, thick stone, humming with magic and depicting an ignited brazier in the center. ".... Marker."

"Weaver's blessings you lumbering oaf you could have caught my foot with that-"

"Stop your complaining Mithos!" Puppeteer snaps, feathered frills flicking up in a display of displeasure. "I spend enough time listening to you moan about that filthy child of yours to tolerate you complaining about doing your job. Help her place the stone."

"Who died and made you-"

"Encore. Now lift the stone." Mithos rolls his eyes, bending to pick up one side of the stone- pushing it into place as Magda watches on silently, filthy gloved claws gripping her shovel handle as she nervously sways back and forth. "It's quite alright, Magda, we will inter him after we've had a little talk, is all... He must answer for this utterly miserable display. It is one thing to die, it is surely another to do so in a way that gives so many of these.... unworthy access to our strength. Not negligible of which being your filthy harlequin and my disobedient doll... Tch."

"So really, you're throwing a tantrum because the Sow's made a purse out of the pig's ear you saddled her with?" Another voice chimes, then proceeds to laugh at his own terrible joke. "Crux and I got held up, apparently, the crippling guilt of a clan leader who failed her people cannot wait the twenty minutes it would have taken to get this done."

"My pack is starved for the hunt, Stygian, not that you would understand that... layabout as you are." The tundra's armor clanks against itself as he extends a wing, a pack of braying wraith hounds trapped within the snowfields displayed on the underside. "...We are sated. Until we know what Encore has to say for himself." Cold air spills from skeletal maw, the thick haze starting to occlude the overlook the five of them stand upon from the ground below, as Magda continues to dig.

"How much longer is this going to take?" Mithos questions, Stygian raising a brow.

"You got a hot date or something, Mithos? Some party to get to in amongst our centuries of free time?" The imperial scoffs, but the skydancer continues, smirking as he removes his tankard from his belt and taking a lengthy swig. "Because I can always give Selv or Lacrymosa a ring, if you're too busy for us, oh no, wait, no I can't, they're a little busy in dragonhome, cleaning up after-"

"I get it. Shall we make a jab about my dead beholder, too?" The argument is ended before it starts, though, when Magda lofts something fleshy and scrunched from the hole in the ground, tossing it to the ground beside Puppeteer's feet.

"Encore... Here."

"Ha, I knew the luscious golden locks were a wig."

"Shut. Up. Stygian." Puppeteer snaps now, holding one clawed hand aloft. "Thank you Magda."

"...Leave?"

"No. You are part of this trial, so you stay." The guardian woman sighs, reaching her own hand to absently stroke at the snout of the skull hung over her wing. "This will not take long." Puppeteer jabs at the fleshy amalgam- revealed now in the haze to be a heart- with the sharp end of her cane, filthy black magic contorting through the meat beneath- until the heart itself shifts, shape changing, the sound of creaking bone and squelching flesh filling the air just the same as Crux's ghostly frost for a short time, until in the place of it lies... Encore.

Stripped of magic, of Godhood, and made of seemingly only a small amount of the flesh that once made him whole, it is still what once was Encore lying filthy and bare in the grass below a scowling Puppeteer with the previous grandiose presence that still lives within those who stand around him now completely vacant. It is also the fallen spirit who's bones now thrive with activity below who, upon regaining enough awareness to speak- begins begging for his life.

"Puppeteer- I- I did not-"

"Did not intend to die or did not intend to do so in such a miserable way that now we are at risk of more hunters at our door? Because you surely did both. Someone get him some clothes. I am not having this discussion with him in the nude."

A ragged, bloodstained bolt of cloth, and then another, finds itself thrown at Encore- who takes a moment to gather himself- bones and flesh mangled and showing- exposed heart muscle making up more parts than it certainly should, vascular and tangling his hands and feet. He is not whole and the pieces they could find are struggling to resemble what he should be- he dresses- he tries to pretend his wings aren't flaps of slick organ, instead of thick leather. Whatever has become his stomach turns.

"What did you do to me...?"

"Well, I mean, you were thousands of feet tall and the size of a frigate, we had to make some exceptions so you could answer for yourself. I just wish those exceptions were less wet... Magda! Get back here." Mithos snarks, turning to catch the retreating figure of Mag slowly trying to slink away in the wintery haze. It's spreading, now, blanketing the bones below and causing less winterized, less hardy workers to hesitate in the sharp, biting chill.

"Not right...." She insists softly. "Cannot see but know it is not right." Her voice rasps, and Puppeteer rolls her eyes.

"We are not here to be bleeding hearts- well, none of us but Encore, hm?" She snickers, Stygian and Mithos laughing under their breath as well as Crux soothes the pack contained within his wings- they've gone from silent to a fever pitch, howling and wailing not unlike the wicked, biting wind. "It seems the huntsman has made his judgement already... You failed us, Encore."

"There is something beneath Lightning that knows of us, it is what killed me- it spoke with the voice of a woman- it told me- it insisted-"

"Ah, so we're listening to voices from beneath the sand now? I tire of this fool, Puppeteer, I say we set the hounds, and be done with him." Mithos grunts, examining glittering golden claws for a long moment. "He was sent on a simple outing, he failed and beyond that, now he's provided these mortals with the ability to better seek the throne. He's endangered all of us."

"Fine. I grow weary of the living anyway. We take our vote now. Those in favor of Encore's return to the earth? Mithos?"

"Nay."

"Stygian?"

"Nay."

"Crux?"

"Nay...."

".... Magda?"

"....." The guardian remains silent- swallowing tightly- Encore turning to her suddenly- she cannot see him but she can hear it in his voice, the way he's been twisted into something disgusting- something unholy, through Puppeteer's touch. She lifts her tail, worrying nervously at it with both hands.

"Maggie- Maggie please- don't- you don't have to go along with this-"

"Majority.... Rule... But I vote... Yay."

"Ah, Tragic it means nothing, here, isn't it, Maggie?" Mithos snorts. "Well, Encore, those are the breaks, huh? Too bad. Maybe in another thousand years we'll see you at the Pantheon Yule parties, but for now? Crux, I hope those dogs of yours are hungry- got some prime meat on offer."

"We hunt relentlessly. Until your guilt leaves your heart, Encore- The Pack will pursue." He hesitates, if only for a moment- the bleach white of his skull almost... sad. "...As my friend, as a former colleague... I will offer you a headstart- you have until the fog passes to get as far as you can. Once it lifts- there will be no freedom from our pursuit- until we are fed."

The Huntsman's wings unfurl again, his loyal pack spilling from within, soon surrounded by several wraithhounds, their bodies gaunt with hunger, their eyes trained ahead on their meal.

So Encore runs. With the haze of safety rapidly dwindling, and new, wrong flesh catching on rocks and trees, he runs- as he knows that death would have been the kindest thing his peers could offer him- and should Crux's hounds catch up, it will never come- eternity under their teeth and claws would make his Collapse look like child's play.

He needs somewhere to hide.

[minti-tales]

(@driftward) Smut prompt! 4) slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds). But! You must wait to answer this until after Dawntrail launches at the very least.

I got inspired by the MSQ to write the first half, so there's a hint of *Sims "Woohoo" sound effect* at the end. Hope that works! This is me trying to practice my writing, too.

Dawntrail spoilers are here.

CW: Language, mental health, implied intercourse, violence.

"More? You got more?! I want more of your army to break upon this blade, Zoraal Ja, you pig b------. Whoresson. A coward who uses children as a shield!" 

A true shame, then, that the soldiers' armor weren't strong enough to withstand repeated rounds of aether cartridges. All that technology, all that rapid progress, literally slashed to ribbons, courtesy of a towering Roegadyn woman, called Minti Chocolate, swinging an equally towering gun blade about her head.

A few moments ago, this stretch of Section 9 had had stray Vanguard soldiers, each searching for souls to harvest. Civilian, member of the Oblivion resistance group - it didn't matter. The King of Resolve made it abundantly clear: all life within the Everkeep was to be harvested, to aid the invasion of Tuliyollal. No exceptions. No mercy to be given.

The metal ground beneath Minti roared to life, cracking and spurting flames thanks to concentrated blasts of aether. "You like that trick? I call it 'Fated Brand.' I got plenty more, my sweets. Have a taste, don't be shy!" 

Most of the soldiers were gracious enough to take themselves offline after the first hit. One of them, tsk tsk, was still standing, shaken but somehow perfectly pointing its lightning rifle at its target. Another one of Zoraal Ja's toy soldiers, with absolutely no fear, no thoughts running through its hollow frame.

It would be a pleasure to sever the soldier's head from its shoulders. 

<The Signora> Oh, yes. How many souls have you taken, puppet? Have you wished for someone to -cut- you from those horrid, horrid strings? You needn't say a word; allow me.

A cloud of purple and black smoke, almost pure darkness, materialized and danced along the Roegadyn woman's armored glove. Up to the very tip of her gunblade, all the way up, so that the weapon might more closely resemble a reaper's scythe. The Signora, the voidsent bound to Minti's reaper crystal and one of the voices in her Echo-blessed "Choir," was whispering in her ear, feeding her feelings of anger and spite.

<The Signora> Queen Sphene and Zoraal Ja are truely a couple made in the seven hells, my dear. They harbor no love for their subjects. Why, they don't even let them remember their dead. Is that not the cruelest thing you've heard, my sweetling?

She could feel those claws tug at her face, stinging metal hooks all lashed up with pretty wire.

"Shut up, shut up," Minti snarled through gritted teeth, her gunblade singing through the open air.

<The Signora> Ah, but I tire of playing the hero. I have a new game in mind, if you would hear of it. I wonder - what if we cut down each and every one of these toys? That way, our dear Queen has nowhere left to run. She can pay for her crimes like the tyrant that she is.

The soldier took a few steps back, it's gun rapidly moving from left to right, before breaking into a sprint. Off it went, clanking towards a makeshift barrier of empty crates and torn-up road. It couldn't possibly have seen the Gunbreaker dashing up behind it, readying their warped blade for a final swing.

"Your King is a cancer," the Roegadyn snarled, swinging the blade like a woman possessed. "And I- I am the barber's blade. Puppet."

For the briefest of moments, Minti felt like a puppet herself, hearing herself speak those words to the soldier's soon-to-be-cleaved frame. Something of that was familiar to her, but, where had she heard it before? As metal struck metal, rending what had false life in half, those thoughts left her mind. They weren't needed, anyways, not with what The Signora was planning next.

<The Signora> One down, oh so more to go. Now, where shall we go next-

Suddenly, there was a heavy feeling, a pair of great weights, pressing down on Minti's shoulders. She couldn't do anything but fall, like a great tree felled in the forest by a botanist's axe. This must be the soul within her gunbreaker crystal, who called himself The Royal Volunteer. She could hear his voice - deep and rumbling like the earth - as the ground greet her.

<The Royal Volunteer> You've had your fun, witch; now be useful and let her be. You weren't with her when we stormed the fortress with the others. Didn't see you fightin' for our damn life against that great lighting beast.

The lass is resting - right here - so go suck a imp's arsehole for all I care.

Now, Minti, you rest up. Might need to wake up in a few, if your friends are looking for you.

---

There is time for comfort, in this false paradise, where death is considered an inconvenience.

It's not every day that a warrior of light gets woken up to the sounds of a Cure spell being cast on them. Even rarer still is the Cure that's cast by someone who cares for them on a level few others have achieved.

There's pleasure to be found in having the warrior's jacket slipped off their shoulders, neatly folded, and put off to the side. Getting their armor pushed up by their love's hands, all the way over their head. Belt unbuckled, jeans pushed down to their feet, boots removed with reverence.

Innocent kisses that become much, much more. A touch between the legs, fingers probing, exploring great big warm depths.

You did so good today.

I did?

Yes, Minti. Yes, you did.

[sinistersinister]

dragula finale liveblog, under the cut. i'll just make one post and type in it as i watch.

warning: spoilers ahead

first thought: a lip-synch? may the best monster win? this is just goth rupaul i guess.

second thought: the boulets are gorgeousssssss i LOVE their headpieces. anna-varney CUNTodea more like

skipping most of the confessionals. i want to be surprised. but i did catch nio's and it's like hoso's, part 2, but it's an important message and it still feels fresh.

love throb's filth idea.

ork remains colombian tommy wiseau. "my filth look is inspired by this... fucking GROSS slug... i found one time in a bathroom."

ork is such a sweetheart. i do not get why the fandom on reddit seems to hate him. i think it's probably classism and maybe a bit of racism. he's like what jay kay said they were-- up-front and honest and 'telling it like it is.' unlike jay kay, ork can actually dish it out AND take it, it seems like. (i do not dislike jay kay, but the way they were portrayed on the show made it seem like they were immature but not in the fun way. i do love a shit-stirrer but i like someone who's more incisive and self-aware about it.)

throb is very sincere and a bit socially inept. which i find charming.

i would have loved to see more of blackberri beyond 'nicey cutie with a beard.' like that weird tangent a few episodes ago about the christian traveling puppet show. like what? hello??? that was FASCINATING? she spent too much time being the producers' friend and not enough time being blackberri. imo.

at this point (~20 minutes in) i think nio's taking the crown.

FILTH TIME!

first thought: ork needs more goop for his slug to be gross. it's just cute, not filthy.

second thought: oh. oh THERE'S the slime. i am literally gagging so that's a good indication this was a 'successful' look. not the first time i've seen that pose from ork tho. nonetheless i would have liked more slime. it's a 'fucking GROSS slug,' so i want slimes and goops!

first thought: blackberri doing some christian puppetry callbacks with that suit. i think that's a good idea. playing to her strengths. it's kind of cute and menacing in an '80s mascot costume that was left in a warehouse and is now mildewed and spooky' way.

second thought: insufficiently filthy. ohhh you ate a raw fish. and? and? put more gross trash in your mouth! nose fell off too!

first thought: throb is also not sufficiently gross. but i love the lewk.

second thought: nvm i am again litcherally gagging. i have a thing about bubbly fluids and i was never more glad for 'switching tabs and looking away.'

fist thought: NIO OH GROSSSSSSSSSS. nio proving that the filthiest thing......is racism U___U. also slopping around in rotting food. that is also very nasty.

second thought: idk there was more potential for nio being gross. she came out so strong and i was underwhelmed by how gross she didn't get. make soy sauce come out of the pig foot strap on!!!!

winner: throb. i think a filth look is successful if it makes me feel sick.

post-show: oh, i didn't know ork was trying to literally puke. it would have been SO good if it had worked. next time put some ipecac on that tail, ork!

HORROR TIME

woah ork has great taste in obscure scary movies!!!! blackberri has a great taste in classic horror movies!!!! the girlies have done the reading!

nio: this could have been a glamour look. giving TITTYcut follies. i think the bodysuit was underwhelming though. same with the hairography.

blackberri: LOVE the idea and i think the execution is 80% there. the glittery blood is SO good. i just wish the skin looked more like skin and less like a trash bag? also lol at the silly little heels.

ork: jesus christ

throb: eh, whatever. why the pregnancy? i liked how unwholesome and distended the belly looked. maybe they could have leaned into that more?

winner: ork. i mean. come on. runner-up: blackberri based on concept alone.

GLAMOUR

oooh i just noticed the boulets' glove nails. we looooove

nio: best face, absolutely the most glamorous face. the bodysuit is good but i think it needs more rhinestones, or encrusted jewels from the sea, or something.

blackberri: nice but not especially glamorous? idk. i need more. and i haaaaated the necklace. it felt so out of place and like something i could get on aliexpress for 10 bux (and not in the ork "make something that cost next to nothing into art" way).

ork: i don't think it's uhhhh glamorous in the conventional way. i like it but i don't get 'glamour' from it. i think the number one ork critique (he can only do one thing) applies here.

throb: lmao this IS goth rupaul. complete with rose petal reveal. weird chest piece too. but unarguably glamorous. face was so good. also, they had the best performance. you can tell they were a burlesque performer. also, their gags finally worked :3 yaaaaay!

the music reminds me of the birthday massacre. nostalgic, to me.

winner: tie between nio and throb. this glamour section was probably the weakest of the three sections.

alright. all the sections are over.

based solely on the floor show i stand by my original assessment that it's nio's show to lose. throb (not memorable but quite good at what they do) and ork (one-trick pony, but that pony can fuckin PERFORM) tied for second. blackberri should not have made it this far. i do not think there should have been a top 4.

judging panel boulets again steal the show. i adore the wigs with the spiky sparkly gelled (?) points, and the luxurious big fluffy (feathery?) collars.

why tf are they hyping blackberri so much? what kind of dirt does she have on them? did something get lost in translation? is it something you have to see in real life and you're missing something otherwise?

aw at the boulets being nice to nio.

love the final lewks. my favorite is ork's because it's a callback to the dbz-looking thing he had for the blacklight challenge. nio's underwhelms me but it's a smart choice for if you're dunked in blood. the makeup is killer. throb's is ehhhh. blackberry's is quite glamorous and put together but insufficiently goth/weird for me. i do like the face pearls though!

YAAAAAAAAAY I WAS RIGHT NIO WON. and ork clapping his flippers in delight again :3

anyway. good season i guess. i hope jarvis is in a mental space where he's good to compete again for titans. and i hope there's nothing terrible that happened between nio and ork.

[umbrellamedic]

🎲 for any of my muses over at @black-ward if that’s okay?

41. A kiss out of spite - for Amanda Young

Of all the killers, the Pig is the one that Bertha understands the least. She seems like a woman in a mask. Bertha has no idea if the Pig created the traps she jams on people's heads, or what the strange puppet she decorates with are. A real mystery figure, but she's fun to meet in trials.

One of Bertha's favorite games to play with sneaking killers is sneaking into their territories outside of trials and stealing from them. Sometimes it is fun to see which of them is stealthier. She's in the Meat Plant looking for anything worth taking when she notices she's being followed. As a little game, the medic pretends to be oblivious. She goes about her business, biding her time.

When the Pig goes to strike is when Bertha acts. In trials the Entity stops the field medic from employing any training, but there is more leniency outside of trials. Enough for Bertha to use timing and the killer's momentum to turn the tides. The pair of them end up on the floor, with Bertha using her weight to pin the other woman down. One gloved hand is clamped over the Pig's wrist, keeping it to the ground and keeping that wicked blade from being a threat.

"I have always been curious about what hides under that mask." Ironic from a woman who hardly ever parts with her gas mask. Bertha leans down to press her mask to the Pig's in a mockery of a kiss before she pulls back. Her free hand balls into the dark hair of the pig mask and tugs; this is the trophy she wants.

[faereth]

List of Ideas for 1st class triggers and suggestions in Hypno-play because I keep forgetting a lot of ideas.

Trigger :

-Visual trigger

Seeing an animal

Seeing a person

Seeing a color

Seeing a number

Seeing a vehicle (train, boat, plane)

Seeing a specific object

Seeing a hypno-themed object (pendulum, spiral, shiny object, light pen, metronome)

Seeing someone hypnotized / hypnotize

Seeing someone naked / clothed

Seeing themselves through a mirror or a camera

Seeing a body part

Specific movement (- eyes : wink, blink, circle, fixation

- lips : biting lip, licking chops

- breasts : groping, swaying, bouncing

- hands & fingers : a lot of things

- hips : swaying

- ass : groping, wiggling, swaying, bouncing

- feet : swaying)

Seeing someone dancing

Seeing a certain piece of clothing

Seeing someone in costume (firefighter, magician, tuxedo, clown, military, waiter(tress), swimsuit, gymclothes)

Watching a movie or a specific scene / TV show / anime

Seeing a painting

Being on a website

Specific ways of writing (formating, using spaces, ..., ~,

using

lign

return,

using bold / italic / CAPITAL, msseing wtih the odrer of the ltetres)

brackets [ ]

double brackets [[ ]]

quotation mark " "

Seeing a date on the calendar

Having an alarm on the phone

-Auditory trigger

Hearing someone's voice

Hearing someone singing

Hearing a good joke

Hearing a bad joke

Hearing a certain topic (weather, date, video games, chess, traveling, work

Hearing an instrument

Hearing a specific music

Hearing a specific sound (bell, cowbell, ringtone, tone, metronome, snap, clicker)

Hearing an animal 'speak' (bark, meow, growl, roar, purr, moo, howl, neigh)

Hearing a movie line

Hearing nicknames (sweety, honey, babe, love, beautiful, sunshine)

Hearing hypno-words and sentences (good boy / girl / toy / doll / puppet / thrall, sleep, drop, sink, deep, blank, empty, pause, play, freeze, unfreeze, obey)

wake up, up up !

-Kinesthetic trigger

Feeling cold / hot

Wearing a specific accessorry (glasses, cloth, headphones, collar, kilt, head cover (hat, cap, wig, top hat, beret) plug, dildo, ring, gloves)

Using an accessorry (ray gun, finger gun, TV remote, dial, ball, jar, glowing ball, rope, mirror, screen, feather, chest, key, pillow, ice, water)

Taking the bus or subway (perhaps fractionation with each stop (but careful with your belongings))

Spanking

Brushing hair

Brushing skin

Kiss (on the body, on the lips)

Eating specific food / drinking specific liquid

Blowing their nose

Yawning

Sucking / licking on something

Thinking of specific memory

Taking a shower

Going to sleep / waking up

Smelling a flower / a perfume

Feeling a taste

Being naked or in underwear

Suggestions

-Wholesome

Eat less / more / healthier

Spend less / be less miser

Less procrastination

Be more productive

Be happier / at peace

Smile

Laugh

Better sleep schedule

Exercice

Learn the thing you want to learn for so long

Suppress / tame bad habits, reinforce good habits

Less swear words

Be kinder / less naïve

Control their own emotions

Be an awesome person

Be an awesomer person

Be loved and cared

Feel pretty

-Recreational

Act like an animal (chicken, puppy, cat, snake, cow, sloth, horse, pig, bee, dinosaur, Pokemon)

Be an animal (act and think)

Shout or say something random and crazy ("The monkeys ate my bread !")

Say something embarrassing ("I love penis")

Can't stop telling the truth

Can't stop lying

Wanting to high-five

Positive and negative hallucinations

Feel a taste / spiciness / sweetness / sourness

Feel hot / cold

Body / body part (usually hands or eyes) heavy / light / impossible to lift / impossible to put down

Body part (usually hands) having a mind on their own

Feel an unsatisfying itch

Roleplay and changes of behavior (Won the lottery, become the hypnotist, a movie star, a dancer / professional dancer, stripteaser, soldier, clown, mime, TV journalist, newcaster, cartoon villain, child behavior, teen behavior, Scooby-Doo)

Speak with an accent

Mirror the hypnotist's movements

Body / body part bound

Body / body part frozen

Body and mind freeze / time stops

Constantly walking / talking / moving / touching / chewing / sucking / licking

Everything is the funniest / least funny thing ever

Write something

Forget a number, name, person, situation, location, concept (how to dress up, how to tie shoelaces, how to speak)

Only able to say yes / no

Only able to make one word / short sentences

Feel what you watch / read (movies or books)

Be blank for 5 seconds and resume as if nothing has happened

Boomerang trigger / suggestion (the subject tries to trigger the hypnotist but it boomerang back and stuns them)

Be jealous / possessive

Losing on purpose every game they play

Mindlessly pose

Be very ticklish

Drooling and / or unable to close mouth

Snore

Intelligence is reduced / increased

Focus is reduced / increased

Can't speak their native language (usually English)

No sound comes from their mouth

-Erotic & sexual

Experience arousal

Experience sexual pleasure

Experience an orgasm

Undress / dress

Be attracted to someone or something

Masturbate / urge to masturbate

Edge / urge to edge

Impossible to explode / explode without permission

Urge to have sex

For men : Be limp, be erect

For women : Be wet, play with nipples / breasts

-Control

Think of a person

Call the hypnotist by a nickname (Sir, Miss, Master, Mistress, Chief, chef, Lord Farquad, Optimus Prime)

The hypnotist's words are their thoughts

Unable to think

Feel pleasure

Write an email / a post on social medias

Transformation (doll, fuckdoll, slave, puppet, robot, tree, object)

Urge to satisfy the needs of the hypnotist

Urge to obey the hypnotist

Repeat a mantra in their head or out loud

Kneel

-Flavours

Aware / unaware

Able / unable to resist the suggestion

Wanting / not wanting (with consent. always.)

Resisting / not resisting / resistance fading

Forget / remember the trigger or/and the suggestion

Believing they were / were not hypnotized or given the suggestion

Thinking the suggestion was their idea

Dial from 0 to 10 to control the intensity of the suggestion

Sources and inspirations : BigTriggerList (3) by Leeallure

Suggestions List by Lex

Lydia Salia's stories

It is my current view on hypno-play from what I've experienced and what I can think of. I chose not to follow exactly the already existing lists even if the methodology and content are great, in order to bring a different point of view to hypno-play. Perhaps it is too reducing to simple concepts and actions that one can fit together. It is made to help people try complex things from these basic ideas and tools.

Feel free to suggest some !

[simply-trash5]

PuppetBoy

Okay Kankuro simps, got some more juice for ya! Seriously this was so fun to write. It is a college AU about Kankuro and a reader. I am pretty proud of it. I would love to write some things for you so PLEASE request. Seriously. I��ll even try smut (I’ve never written it before so we’ll see how it goes). Drop them in the ask box and if you like what you read you should totally tell me because i am a self conscious bean.

What the hell is that noise? You think to yourself as you look around. It sounded terrible. Whatever car was making that noise was definitely on it’s last leg. You nod your head realizing it was the same guy you see everyday parked across from the education building at your college. You could hear loud metal playing from the speakers and the windows shaking as he pulled into the lot. He jumped out,slammed the door and gave the tire a swift kick. Wow he’s kinda cute. He stood almost 6 ft. tall and had on a black hoodie that hung lightly over his brown hair. His black jeans had rips in the knees and you could see he was wearing scuffed black DocMartens. You continued to follow him with your eyes as he passed you walking toward the theatre building. He had an eyebrow ring and gauges. Oh shit, I think he caught me staring. He looked at you, scoffed and kept walking toward the theatre building. Is he a theatre major? You wondered to yourself. Maybe he just has to take a fine art credit. Letting your thoughts wander you pulled the straps on your bookbag tighter and walked to your class in the education building. 

The class seemed to drag on forever, and you knew after that you had to go to your nannying job which would take up most of the evening. You wished that you didn’t have to have a job, but unfortunately scholarships didn’t cover all of your tuition. You grabbed your keys from your pocket and headed toward the parking lot. Climbing into your car you started the engine and began making your way to your job. You loved kids, so nannying was a great gig for you. When you arrived at the home of a doctor in your area you were greeted by a small boy with a large grin. “Ms. Y/N, can we go to the children’s theater today? Mom said we could go if it was okay with you, she even left my booster seat so you can drive!” You giggled and shrunk down to his height. “Well if your mom says it's okay, it's fine by me. Let’s grab your jacket and booster seat and we will leave.” The small child ran into the house. His mother approached you. “Thank you so much for watching Trevor,I know he is a handful but i'm rather fond of him.” You gave her a huge smile and told her that it was no problem and explained that you were going to take him to the children's theatre. She said her goodbyes and you walked into the house to retrieve the boys booster seat so that you all could make the 4:00 production of the Three Little Pigs. 

The little boy sitting in front of you on the floor giggled wildly as a wolf puppet “ran” off stage. You smiled down at him. The curtains closed and the crowd gave them a round of applause. The stage hands and puppeteers began to disassemble the set so that they could get ready for the next show when you saw a familiar face. It's car boy. You smiled in his direction, and didn’t realize you may have looked at him a little too long. “Hey, take a picture, it will last longer.” The mysterious boy gave you an annoyed look and a blush began to creep up your face. He was wearing a tight black tshirt that showed off his muscular arms and his tattoo of a sandtimer on his forearm. “Come on Trevor, lets head home,” you said steering the young boy out of the theatre.

“Oh my god what did you say back?” your friend was screeching on the other side of the phone. “Well, see, I just kinda left.” you explained not wanting to relive the embarrassing moment. “Y/N, you have got to do something tomorrow. You’re going to see him in the parking lot and you don’t want it to be weird.” You were twirling your hair around your finger staring at your phone. “Y/N are you still there?” You snapped back to reality, “yeah, I think I will buy him a cup of coffee. I’m sure he never sleeps like the rest of us. He is a college student.” You both finished your conversation and you got ready for bed. You set your alarm early so that you could go to a coffee shop and grab him a coffee to make up for the awkward run-ins you had the last few days. 

“God its early” you whined to yourself but got ready anyway. You had to make a better impression on puppet boy. You gathered your things and headed out the door and made your way to a local coffee shop. You grabbed your latte and then decided it was best to just give him black coffee. You drove to your college thinking about the handsome stranger all the way there. His brown hair was shaggy and fell right into his eyes, which you melted at the thought of his hair being pushed out of his face. Your mind started to drift to what your next move would be as you pulled into the parking lot. Okay, it's 7:45 he should be here any minute. Shit what should I do? In a moment of extreme confidence you grabbed a pen out of your backpack and messily scribbled your phone number on the side of the paper cup. God I hope this works. You took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. You could hear him coming for at least a mile. Alright Y/N you cannot chicken out now. He rolled in and slammed his car door as he had every morning for the earlier part of the semester. It's now or never, you've got this shit. You beelined toward his car. He realized you were approaching and looked at you with a strange face. You immediately got nervous. You just sat the coffee cup on the hood of his car, turned on your heel, and quickly walked to the education building. “HEY! HEY COME BACK!” You heard him calling after you as you continued on your way to class cursing yourself the entire time.

Buzz

You grabbed your phone from your pocket. An unknown number had sent you a text. “How do I know you didn’t drug this coffee so you can turn my corpse into a puppet?” you laughed at the text and a blush spread over your cheeks. “Now why would I do that?” you replied. You typed “Also that is oddly specific” “What can I say, I like puppets?” The conversation continued for the next few days. You saw him a few times on campus but you never spoke in person. He would send you funny memes and videos at all hours of the night. Apparently puppetboy is a night owl. “Um btw, we’ve been talking for days and I still don’t know your name. What should I call you.” “My name is Kankuro.” “Well Kankuro, my name is Y/N. Its nice to put a name with a face.”

Shit I’m never gonna finish this run. You thought to yourself as you continued to run on the treadmill. You had your headphones in and music blaring. You loved to run and hadn’t been to the gym in a few days due to all of your nannying obligations. Okay, only a half mile more to go, you thought to yourself as you pushed your body to keep running. Out of nowhere you felt a large calloused hand on your shoulder. You snapped your head “Hey listen creep I-” before you knew it you were falling only to be caught by Kankuro. “Y/N you falling for me already?” Kankuro flirted giving you a tight smirk. You were shocked, not only by the fall, but by the arms around you. They were strong and helped steady you with ease. He was wearing a dark grey tank top which showed his muscles and tattoo off wonderfully. His legs were muscular too and looked amazing in the black shorts he was wearing. In his other hand he had a pair of boxing gloves. You began to blush and he realized you were staring at him, imagining what he looked like under that tank top. Your hand crept up to your neck where you fiddled with your necklace. He gave you a small chuckle. “I’ve got to go spar with my buddy, but if you want to you can meet me out front in an hour.” You smiled and shook your head and he turned and walked away. The shorts hugged his bottom perfectly and the tank top showed his shoulder muscles. You could see another tattoo on his back. Was it puppet strings? You pursed your lips and began to blush. I would love to see those strings up close. 

The hour wait seemed like the longest hour of your life. You waited out in front of the gym as he came bounding out the door. He was sweating and his shaggy hair was sticking to his forehead. He walked over to his car and opened the door. It made a horrendous screech as it opened and you stifled a laugh. “Whats so funny princess? Just for that we gotta walk to get food.” You blushed. Did he just call me princess? Why was that so hot? “Come on, I’m starving,” he said and began walking down the sidewalk. You walked hurriedly to match his long strides. Damn my short legs. “So Kankuro, where are we going?” he gave you a crooked grin. “Its a surprise.” You giggled and retorted “well how do I know you’re not trying to get me alone and turn my corpse into a puppet?” He gave you a devilish grin, “Well sweetheart lets find out.” Another pet name. Your face turned bright red and you stared at the sidewalk. You approach a deli that you frequent with your friends. “I love this place,” you exclaimed. “Well don’t be weird and actually order some food. I like a girl with an appetite.” You laughed and smiled. You ordered your usual and he ordered grabbing your food and heading outside to a table. You both began eating and chatting casually about your lives. You found out he loves horror movies, especially ones that feature creepy dolls or puppets. You also learned that he has a lot of horror memorabilia in his apartment and that he rarely sleeps. He boxes to keep himself busy when hes not working as a children’s puppeteer. He is studying theatre with concentrations in stage management and special effects makeup. “Kankuro, thats really fucking cool,” you said and began to tell him about yourself. You were studying to be a teacher and nannying as a job to make money for college. You lived in an apartment around the corner from the deli with a friend. “So Kankuro I noticed the sand timer on your arm, do you have any other tattoos?” He gave you another devilish grin.”Yeah I have a back piece that is marionette strings. I’ve loved puppets since I was little so I thought it would be cool. Do you have any tattoos?” You blushed. You stood and pulled up your athletic top to show a tattoo of your family's crest on your hip. You had to pull your shorts down ever so slightly revealing your black lacy underwear. He looked at the tattoo and then back to your face. “Thats a nice one,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck. The conversation continued and you all talked more about your semester and your family. You laughed and told him about how you liked to run and also about how you thought it was cool he was a boxer. “Maybe one day we can spar angel,” he flashed a smile in your direction and you smiled back at the thought. You both got up from the table and threw your trash away. It was dark and cool. You pulled your jacked tighter around your shoulders. “I guess I am going to walk home and let you get back to the gym.” Kankuro shook his head “absolutely not doll, its dark and I’m walking you home.” You blushed. Another pet name, this boy is gonna be the death of me. 

You began walking toward your apartment and your hands brushed several times by accident. “Damn Y/N if you wanted to hold my hand that bad all you had to do was ask. I aim to please.” You blushed and then punched Kankuro. “Still want to spar?” you said cheekily. You both walked in silence but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if you had known him your whole life. The comfort of him walking beside you felt so nice. “Well this is my apartment.” You sighed and reached for the door. 

BAM

The door slammed shut and you noticed a strong arm beside your face. Kankuro looked down at your lips and smirked. You began to blush. The tension was so thick. I swear im going to pass out. Your heart began racing as he leaned into you. Your back was pressed against the glass of the door with a strong arm beside your head. His other hand made its way to your tattooed hip, he drew circles over your ink with his calloused thumb. His hands were so large that you could feel his fingertips on your back. The heat rose to your cheeks. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. He pulled back, his hand still burning a hole into your hip bone. You opened your eyes to see a smirked Kankuro. You were in shock when he reached his other hand to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face. Your thoughts raced, you wanted nothing more to bring him up to your apartment and let him give you that devilish grin some more. 

“Guess I’m not a killer princess. Text me.” He chuckled, turned on his heel and walked back toward the gym. You watched him until he walked out of sight. You were ready to see him again and maybe see more of that back tattoo.

[imadethisatage11]

Live-blogging my reaction to Spiral: from the book of saw

Spoilers under the cut

TL;DR: my overall review is that it was good but I’m going to go watch DPS to cleanse me

- ok so that woman got robbed and for what

- I had to pause to find out who this detective’s actor was Bc it was driving me nuts and it’s MCMURRAY FROM LETTERKENNY???

- love that they’re gonna fuck up this train conductors day lmao

- LOVE genuinely that we’re back to looking gritty and having an old tv play the video and having some rapid cut camera work early 2000’s vibes I embrace you

- why does the voice sound like that,, I wasn’t expecting John but why is it so non threatening now it’s literally just Some Guy™️

- I am glad I paid $15 to listen to Chris Rock talk about Forrest Gump. Worth my money and I mean it genuinely I love Chris Rock he’s great. Stream Everybody Hates Chris on Hulu

- “Z?” Zeke who just had his cover blown: this MF

- “do I look like a fucking Jamaican nanny?!” I- 😀🤚🏽

- ayo Max Minghella

- Chris Rock falling just short of being convincingly aggressively cynical Bc he is Chris Rock with the voice of Chris Rock

- it sounds like he’s setting up jokes that don’t have punchlines and instead they’re just like,, mediocre cynic cop dialogue

- while looking at some pretty fucking intact teeth: this bum is gonna be pretty hard to ID

- I mean I guess the homeless don’t have dental records but were you not even gonna try?

- I’m very pleased Chris Rock put on gloves before handling the strange package I love actually smart character choices that would make sense for them to make

- I.e. the cop knows how to properly handle unexpected unmarked packages delivered to the precinct

- “I thought the jigsaw killer was dead” “well if it’s another copy cat…” another wait is that referring to Logan (which Logan pinned on the other coincidentally crooked cop whose name I’ve forgotten) does that imply Logan only did like? The one trap? And hasn’t been active? Just waited ten years after John died recreates the one trap he was in and then stops?? I mean don’t get me wrong if movie wants to ignore Jigsaw (2017)’s existence I’m game but like what

- also why do the packages look like they’re wrapped in Tiffany boxes lmao

- oh yay they did run dental

- Chris Rock is an asshole but they should go with protocol if that’s what they’re doing

- ordering a man mid piss out of the men’s room to yell at Zeke

- does conflict of interest matter when the whole precinct knows the victim?

- uncomfortable stand-offs with your ex while at the home of a grieving friend

- Samuel L Jackson!

- “I could’ve killed you!” “What are you talking about, I have the gun!” *SLJ pulls a gun out* “I could’ve killed you”

- daddy issues

- “you think this is linked to John Kramer?” Bruh you think it’s NOT??

- ik this is SO far fetched but I rlly hope this movie tells us wtf happened to Dr Gordon. I’m sure it won’t but a girl can dream

- “should we tell Zeke?” “Fuck him” I get you guys don’t like to work w him Bc he’s an ass but like. You’re just not doing your jobs now you’re just proving he’s right that you’re untrustworthy

- splitting up and not telling ppl where you’re going is the number one way to get kidnapped or murdered but way to go cop instincts

- what is this Chinese finger trap ass shit

- love the blue tones tho very Saw

- all it needs is to become uncomfortably green

- fun fact I actually watched the first saw w my friend who is red green color blind and he said it looked AWFUL and I was like oh yeah everything is blue tinted like twilight blue tint and later it’s green just FYI (he thought that made significantly more sense than whatever shit ass color palette he was perceiving)

- being mad at your son for turning in a dirty cop Bc now you’ll have to mess with internal affairs

- and then assaulting someone??? SLJ is an even worse asshole lmao

- another Tiffany box bound in twine maybe it’ll be one of those cheesy diamond heart necklaces

- HELLO what is that ugly ass pig puppet

- also the voice is so stilted did the killer use fuckin text to speech so they couldn’t unscramble the voice like they did to Hoffman?

- cops finding dead pigs, a little on the nose

- oh so this dude has a history of “fuck it” ok well screw that guy then

- SLJ deserves to be pissed at that cop for letting Zeke get shot but like what an unhinged man he threatened to kill him and then actually assaulted him HOW did he EVER get in charge to begin with

- ok wait is Zeke actually the only decent cop (inc his dad but maybe excluding the newbie)

- that is a truly gruesome way to lose fingers tho I must say but he deserves that shit

- wait did the trap not go fast enough or was there a way for him to do that faster and I missed it

- like should he not have hesitated Bc there was a time limit or was it just rigged

- cuz the machine had to pull them off he couldn’t just cut them quickly

- so are they just gonna leave broken leg Dude there or

- also just now I tried to talk abt this movie (so far) vs Jigsaw (2017) to my mom and I got too excited and referenced some character names she didn’t know and she shut me down and said she didn’t care 😀

- live-blogging to my, like, five followers that compromise one one (1) person that knows me IRL, one (1) Sawtual, and a handful of ppl only here for my main DPS content to fill the void of emotional parental neglect. What a great website

- oh no did the rookie die :( he was actually sweet

- I feel like he was too important to kill offscreen tho

- like they’re TELLING us he .. was skinned.. but was he REALLY

- Chris Rock having a revelation: AH FUCK

- everyone else at the crime scene: ….

- favorite thing abt movies that were already gonna be rated R is when they’re like “well if we’re already at R we might as well say fuck”

- she has to SEVER HER SPINAL CORD? Why was she deemed the biggest asshole

- also how on earth was this trap portable it IS in their basement right

- transporting the hot wax is just what gets me

- Chris Rock rn: are you tired of being nice? Don’t you just wanna go apeshit?

- was this abt his dad the whole time???

- does it count as live blogging when I do one big post instead of several small ones lol I just want it to be avoidable for ppl who are just here for Dead Poets Society

- man’s fully abt to cut his arm off like barely even hesitated long enough to notice the bobby pin he could pick the lock with

- there’s a body here suspended

- not hanging mind you

- but covered and suspended

- and I bet it’s the newbie

- ah damn it’s Pete that’s disappointing

- it’s possible the trailers just made him seem more important than he was

- why are they punishing Zeke for reporting a dirty cop and having his career accordingly ruined like he did the right thing and already suffered for it? This killer doesn’t like crooked cops?? Why does Zeke have to be tortured by hearing this dude die like that’s what they want isn’t it?

- I think it’s too late pal

- the glass trap was pretty fucking cool though

- I KNEW HE WAS ALIVE

- I didn’t think he was a MURDERER but I KNEW he was alive

- OH SHIT THE DIRTY COP ZEKE TURNED IN KILLED NEWBIE’S DAD??

- I’m terrible at guessing endings but it makes viewing more fun

- honestly,, do it Chris Rock ACAB

- “you want me to kill cops?” “No, fuck no, just the bad ones”

- what a fun villain though

- I have no idea what the Ultimate Game Plan™️ is here though is he gonna make him kill his dad? I mean his dad does suck but making a dude KILL his DAD? That is a tall order Max Minghella

- ok but literally why wouldn’t you listen to him here shoot the target??

- ANGIE! It WaS aNgIe

- killing this man is not correct justice anyway Zeke

- shot the target! Good man

- groovy of them to play the Hello Zepp soundtrack rn

- oh shit what’s going on SLJ knows what it is

- oh.. w o w. Brutal way to go. Very heavy handed imagery

- and that’s all I guess who the fuck knows what’s up w Doctor Gordon

- and I guess Max Minghella is just gonna get away now but tbh Chris Rock only seemed truly mad at him for involving his dad

- nice rap remix to the OG Hello Zepp score very cool credits music

[orangeoctopi7]

Gloves VS Mittens

@forduary Week one is Creation/Destruction. This fic is definitely on the Creation side of things.

For most people, it’s just a matter of preference. But for Stanford, just having a choice at all was something he rarely had...

***

When Ford was four years old, he first started taking notice of the fact that his hands were not normal. It started with a Hanukkah gift from a distant aunt: a pair of gloves for Stan, and a pair of mittens for himself. The two of them were so used to getting the exact same of everything that it immediately struck them as odd.

"Hey Dad, how come mine are different?" Ford asked.

"Because they don't make six-fingered gloves." Filbrick grunted.

"Why not?"

"Because normal people don't have six fingers. Haven't you noticed?"

Caryn smacked her husband with her magazine. "Dear!"

"What? If he hasn't already figured it out--"

"He's four, Filbrick."

"He's gonna have to know sooner or later! Coddling him ain't doin' him any favors. The world's not kind to what's different, so we may as well prepare him now!"

"I'm not… normal?" Ford asked his parents. He wasn't quite sure what to do with this information.

"Nope." Filbrick replied bluntly.

"Oh who wants to be normal, anyway? Normal's boring. You're special." Caryn took her son into her arms and kissed his forehead. “Now go outside and play with your brother."

While Stanford took his mother's words to heart, he soon found that being special had little to no practical benefits. Sure, it was nice to have something of his own for once, but Ford soon realized that while Stanley could use his mittens if he wanted, Ford couldn't use his brother's gloves. Not that Stan would ever want to use the mittens. They limited his dexterity to the point where it was hard to make a snowball, or even do something as simple as point.

"It's not fair!" He complained to Stan as he struggled to draw a face on the snowman they were working on. "It's like trying to do everything with a sock puppet on each hand!"

"It can't be all bad." Stan reasoned. "Plenty of people wear mittens, right?" 

"I guess so…" Ford remembered quite a few Christmas decorations with people wearing mittens, and he'd seen a few wearing them out and about the city.

Stan grabbed one hand and held it up, looking at it more closely. "I bet all your fingers are warmer, bundled together like that!"

"But it's hard to zip up my coat, so I get cold anyway." Ford mumbled.

"I'll help you zip it up!" Stan promised.

***

As the years passed, Stanford found another advantage to wearing mittens: nobody could tell he was a freak if they couldn't see his extra fingers. Sure, it didn't fool the people who already knew him, but it was nice to be able to pretend he was normal when they went up to New York City to go shopping. 

As for the dexterity problem, most of the time he'd just have to ask Stanley to do whatever it was for him. If he got tired of that, or if it simply wasn't an option (like during a snowball fight between the two brothers) he'd just take his mittens off. Sure, it was icy cold, and Ma always scolded him if she caught him, but that was a small price to pay for a good snowball.

Ford found he didn't mind wearing mittens all the time, until he started highschool chemistry class.

***

Ford was so excited to start his first real chemistry lab. He'd been doing his own chemical experiments with a chemistry set he got for his birthday when he turned 12, but the school chemistry lab had so much more to offer him! Actual Bunsen burners, more than one beaker and three test tubes, and best of all-- a variety of chemicals much wider than what he could find in his family home!

"Now, before we start, I'm going to go around and make sure everyone has all their safety equipment on properly. Make sure you've got your goggles on over your eyes not your forehead, and your gloves on your hands not in your pocket." Their teacher, an easily distracted middle-aged man, made his way around the room, checking each group. "Oh, right…" he paused when he came to the Pines twins. Stan had on his gloves and goggles (onto which he had drawn googly eyes with a wet-erase marker). Ford had on his goggles, but…

"I don't need gloves." Ford insisted. "I've never used them with my chemistry set at home."

"Yeah!" Stan agreed, "We took apart a car battery one time and didn't get any chemical burns!"

The teacher blanched at this revelation, and he opened up a supply closet at the back of the room. After some digging, he pulled out a pair of sturdy work gloves that looked like they were meant for a giant.

"Here," he tossed them to Ford, "These should be big enough. You'll just have to fit two fingers into one hole."

Ford grumbled as he pulled the gloves on. After some experimentation he found that sticking his second and third fingers together was the least uncomfortable arrangement, but the glove was still too bulky and awkward. He kept on pouring too much acid into the solution and completely missing the titration point. 

Relying on Stan to do it didn't yield much better results, as his brother was too impatient, and kept on pouring the acid too fast, once again missing the titration point. Finally, when the teacher was distracted by other students, Ford just took the gloves off. Then he got it first try.

This ended up being the pattern for Ford's chemistry labs throughout the rest of his highschool years. Fumble through the lab until the teacher's back was turned, and then strip the oversized gloves off. He was extra careful, and never got anything on him that could do any real harm. One time he did get a bit of copper nitrate on his skin, but all that it did was make his hands dry and itchy.

***

When Ford started college at Backupsmore University, he quickly realized he wouldn't be able to just pull an awkwardly large glove off when the teacher wasn't looking. The class size was much too small. What's more the TA overseeing their lab, a young man by the name of McGucket, was clearly a sharp and observant individual.

"Hmm, obviously this ain't gonna work." He observed as he passed out supplies to Ford's table. "I think y'should be fine fer now, we're only working with acetic acid today, but that ain't gonna be the case fer the whole semester. You got a free hour after lab?"

"Y-yes." 

"Great! Meet me in the Grad-lab, we'll make ya a special custom pair!"

"What--really!?"

"Sure! We don't want you messin' around in the chem lab with no gloves on, but messin' around with gloves that don't fit right is even worse!"

Ford finished his first lab with no trouble. In fact, he finished early, so he cleaned up his things and headed to the Grad-lab, just down the hall from his own classroom, and waited. All the graduate students there ignored him, too caught up in their own studies to even notice a lowly undergrad.

After several minutes, McGucket entered. "Alright, this is gonna take a while, you sure you got time?"

"This is my last class of the day."

"Perfect. Now come over here and we'll get started." The grad student led Ford back to a table with many five-gallon buckets. He pried the lid off of one, revealing its dark blue, slimy contents. "This here's the silicone-rubber I use t'make molds fer my machine parts. If'n ya jus' stick yer hand in here and let it gel, it should make a nice glove, like a second skin!"

"You want me to stick my hand… in that?" Ford asked incredulously.

"Pshaw, it ain't that bad!" McGucket assured him. "It's like… well, y'ever stuck her hand in pig slop?"

"No." Ford said slowly, his eye twitching just a bit at the thought.

"Oh, well nevermind then. I guess you can jus' drop outta chemistry 112"

Ford sighed and plunged his hands down into the bucket. It was pretty gross, but he got used to the slimy sensation after a few minutes. He slowly pulled his hands out, letting the viscous fluid slide off his fingers. 

"How long does this take to dry?"

"Gel." McGucket corrected. "First layer'll probably take 'bout half an hour. It goes faster if'n ya use a settin' spray, bit that tends t'irritate the skin."

"First layer? How many layers will it take?"

"Only two. Ya want it thick 'nuff it'll protect yer skin, but thin 'nuff that it's flexible an’ peels off easy."

"So I'm just supposed to stand here for a whole hour? What am I supposed to do for all this time? I-I've got homework!"

"Well, I'll pull ya up a chair." McGucket rolled over a chair for him and opened his backpack. "An' maybe I can help ya with yer homework."

They sat there for an hour, McGucket reading Ford's textbooks and Ford asking questions about the material. The grad student was impressed with the workload this freshman had taken on.

"I wanted to go to West Coast Tech, but that didn't work out." Ford explained bitterly. "So I'm going to have to work twice as hard to be taken seriously by the scientific community."

"Believe me, I know the feelin'." McGucket nodded. "Most folks don't take a roboticist from the Tennessee hills seriously either. But there's some perks to attendin' a smaller University. The dean lets us do whatever we want! I've built lots o' robots I never woulda gotten away with at MIT."

"I suppose that's true." Ford admitted. "I'm interested in anomalies and cryptozoology. At West Coast Tech, I probably wouldn't be able to study those."

The hour passed more quickly than Ford expected. When he pulled the gloves off, they turned inside out, showing all the wrinkles and ridges of his skin in relief. He liked it. It was much more personal than some disposable pair.

“I’m sorry for complaining so much at the start. What you’ve done for me is incredibly generous. Thank you.” Ford said sincerely.

“Think nothin’ of it!” McGucket assured him with a friendly smile. “Can’t ‘spect you to go through the whole class without proper gloves.”

“No, really, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Well, I s’pose not. But I imagine ya don’t get somethin’ as simple as a pair o’ gloves offen.”

“N-no.” Ford instinctively hid his hand behind his back.

“Well now, ain’t nothin’ to hide!” McGucket elbowed him. “You could have two heads, fer all I care, with how well you un��erstand superconductors!” He waved goodbye as they exited the lab. “See ya in class on Wednesday!”

Ford found he gained more than just a new pair of gloves that day.

***

The custom gloves were nice, but they didn’t last more than a couple of months before they needed to be replaced again. He spent a lot of time in the Grad-lab talking to Fiddleford over the next few years. By the time graduation rolled around, Ford had learned to make the silicone-rubber compound himself. It was something he continued to use as he moved out to Gravity Falls. Being able to make his own gloves was so convenient! After all these years of being stuck with ill-fitting gloves, or no gloves at all, he’d never really realized how useful they were. And now he could have them whenever he wanted! As time went by, he improved upon the original silicone-rubber formula, making the gloves more durable and long-lasting. 

As he got used to wearing gloves while he worked, the fact that he didn’t have winter gloves became more and more annoying. It was easy to ignore at Backusmore, where it rarely snowed and stayed warm for most of the year. But Oregon was farther north, and Gravity Falls was in the middle of the temperate rainforest. It snowed all winter long. It was so frustrating when he encountered an anomaly out in the snow and couldn’t hold his pen properly to take notes in his journal, either because of his mittens, or because his hands were too cold and numb from not wearing his mittens.

Oh well. As irritating as it was, he was used to it by now.

***

Out in the multiverse, just finding something to keep himself warm at all could be a struggle. Many of the dimensions he visited didn’t have human inhabitants, so finding something to wear on his hands at all was an impossible ask. Ford learned to wrap strips of cloth around his hands and fingers to keep them warm. It worked pretty well, although it took a lot longer to wrap the cloth in such a way that he could still move his fingers individually than it would to simply slip on a glove.

Of course, sometimes he got lucky. When he became ruler of the Finger Dimension, for instance, the people had made him a pair of silk, fur-lined gloves. They were very nice, but obviously more for fashion rather than function. He ended up trading them away for some tools shortly after he was banished by the Finger Dimension’s new ruler. 

But Stanford had bigger things to worry about than the comfort of his hands in his interdimensional travels. 

***

Stanley found the gloves while he was digging around the portal’s control console, looking for any clues as to how to get the thing working again. It was like a punch to the gut, but really, finding anything of Ford’s was like a punch to the gut. Stan still remembered that first Hanukkah when he’d gotten a pair of gloves, and Ford got a pair of mittens. He still remembered all the awkward times in their chemistry class where he’d had to do all the fine measurements even though he was terrible at it, until the teacher looked away long enough for Ford to take the oversized gloves off. He was glad his brother had finally found a way to get his own pair of work gloves.

His mind wandered, unbidden, to the fact that his brother was now lost… somewhere… without them. Without a lot of things he needed. Stan pulled on the gloves and made a fist, watching the extra pinky sleeve flop uselessly. He grimaced. Right. Back to work.

***

When Ford turned sixty-four, he was used to wearing mittens. He’d long ago accepted that the winter months came with a loss of dexterity, and honestly, over the past nine months of sailing through arctic waters, he’d been fine. He knew Stan had his back when he couldn’t properly wrap a finger around his blaster’s trigger. And when he knew he was going to need his blaster, he just didn’t wear them. He hadn’t gotten frostbite yet. In the middle of June, it wasn’t even worth worrying about. He wouldn’t even be thinking about it right now if it wasn’t for the birthday gift his niece had just given him.

“I noticed you weren’t wearing your mittens in a lot of the photos you sent us.” Mabel explained. “And I figured you probably have to use all your fingers for boat stuff, like tying knots, or signaling merpeople! So I made you these!” She handed him a pair of hand-knitted gloves, made up of a mix of red, blue, and  green yarn.

“I wanted to send you some while you were still sailing, but I’d never knitted gloves before, so it took me a while to figure it out.”

“She went through a lot of yarn the last few months.” Dipper agreed. “Like, even more than usual.”

Ford slipped them on. They were a perfect fit.

“How…?”

Stan suddenly started whistling for no reason. Ford shot him a knowing look.

“What? Don’t look at me like that! So maybe I kept an old pair of your gloves while I was workin’ on the portal. Not for, like, sentimental reasons or anything. Good work gloves aren’t cheap! And it’s a good thing I did keep ‘em, they were the perfect model for Mabel. I just had to tell Soos where I left ‘em and asked him to send ‘em to her.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Ford’s voice wavered with emotion. "This is-- the fact that you put in all that time and effort, just for me-- and such a thoughtful gift! I-I've never really had a pair of winter gloves before… well, except for that pair from the Finger Dimension, and those were more ceremonial than anything else."

"So you like them?" Mabel asked, eyes bright.

"I absolutely love them. They're perfect!" He hugged her. "Thank you!" He turned to Stan. "Thank both of you!"

"Eh, I didn't do anything." Stan rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

"You provided the model. I have you to thank for the fact that they fit so well."

"I have an idea, if you want to test them out now." Dipper suggested. "Remember that snow spell we tested out last week?"

"Oh, right! Great idea, my boy!"

"Yeah, just test it outside this time, so Soos doesn't have to mop up after you again." Stan advised.

[zoffra]

The Achilles' heel

Kortopi ran almost two kilometers, passing passers-by with ease without even grazing them and jumping against the facades of the building bars.

He arrived at the appointment ten minutes ahead of schedule. He didn't have time to catch his breath when he heard a voice behind him.

'You'll follow me without question. Nod gently if you agree.'

Kortopi slowly moved his head up and down, then froze instantly when he felt the cold barrel of a revolver press against his neck. He swallowed his saliva with difficulty. He was still a child, but in delicate situations, his analytical mind was as good as any of the other members. He was very lucid about the strength and intentions of his opponents.

He's serious, he'll kill me if I try anything

Something disturbed Kortopi's already chaotic thoughts, even more than the threat of being shot in the head.

Wedy wasn't there.

He couldn't make out his face because of his motorcycle helmet, but from his voice, the child deduced that his attacker was a young man under thirty.

They walked for another twenty minutes or so, and then stopped in front of a large motorcycle of a Japanese mark.

.....

The ride had been going on for over an hour by the time they got off the highway. Kortopi was handcuffed like a leg of lamb, but deep down he seemed to enjoy the moment.

The landscape was passing before his eyes like a fast-moving movie and was quite different from the panorama of Meteor city. Fields of wheat, poppies, and blueberries were gradually replacing the concrete towers and skyscrapers of the suburbs. They arrived in the countryside when a gentle autumn rain began to fall, wetting Kortopi's long hair sticking out of his motorcycle helmet.

.....

'Come down.' The young man took off his helmet and his long golden blond hair fell to his shoulders. Korutopi repressed a shiver when he saw his face, marked by a huge burn that extended from his jaw to between his nose and his left eye.

The child hastily looked away when he noticed a silhouette that looked familiar, moving towards them.

'Wedy, next time it's you who's going to do it. I'm not your delivery boy.'

'Lay down, Mello.' She's crouching down in front of Kortopi, taking off her handcuffs, 'Didn't my partner put you through too much misery?'

.....

They took a dirt path lined with pine and cherry blossoms. After walking for several minutes, they came to a small paved courtyard with an extraordinarily carved walnut wood porch.

Kortopi opened his mouth in surprise when they entered the building.

The dilapidated barn as seen from the outside was in fact be converted into a loft in a rustic, uncluttered style. The hall was so large that their footsteps resounded like an echo. The old oak parquet flooring was covered with a brightly colored graphic carpet, and long duck blue velvet curtains draped over the bay windows.

'Matt!' Mello roared from the lobby, and then came down the stairs that seemed to lead to a basement. Within seconds, the man known as Matt came down the central staircase. He was wearing a long-sleeved top with red and black stripes and jeans tucked into his brown boots. The smoky lenses of his glasses were not perceptible to his eyes.

When he reached Kortopi, the young man took off his black gloves and replaced them with surgical gloves, 'Spread your arms and legs.'

A terrible feeling of fear and humiliation overcame Kortopi, sensing the hands of a stranger performing a thorough body search.

'We've to make sure you don't have a wire. Take a deep breath.' Wedy, with his back to him, said this in a strangely compassionate way.

'Nothing to report.'

When the search was over, Wedy led Kortopi to the door Mello had used earlier, 'Time for introductions. Ready to meet the boss?'

.....

Kortopi shivered, his footsteps getting heavier and heavier as he sank into the basement next to Matt and Wedy. They walked down a long corridor, the atmosphere was nothing like the warmth of the ground floor. The neon lights were sizzling, emitting a whitish light reminiscent of hospitals, the walls were rough concrete and a slight smell of dampness pervaded the place.

They reached a large steel armored door that even Phinks would have had a hard time breaking through, and then Wedy knocked.

One knock. Three knocks. One knock.

And the door opened.

Questions raced through Kortopi's foggy mind. He wondered what the leader of these treasure seekers might look like, and felt a sense of excitement in spite of himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mello slumped on a worn-out leather armchair, devouring a bar of chocolate. He wouldn't have seen him if his big eye hadn't been so sharp. The room was plunged into darkness, and the only source of light came from the back of the room, emitted by a gigantic wall of surveillance screens. About fifty monitors were showing scenes of people's daily lives in public places, bars, but also in private homes and apartments.

Kortopi squinted at the light from the screens that hurt him, looking for one that would confirm his theory.

'Ninth column, third row.'

Kortopi turned to the raised voice and noticed a young man from behind with a famished appearance, strangely seated on his chair in a squatting position. The young man turned towards the child, his black half-long hair sweeping across his pale face and his bangs falling over his large black eyes.

When his eyes landed on the viewer, Kortopi's heart missed a beat. And for good reason, two groups of people who were not supposed to meet at all were on the same screen.

Phinks, Feitan, and Nobunaga had displayed their powerful and threatening aura, facing the magician and the puppeteer.

All this could have been avoided if a certain person had not been clumsy.

A few hours earlier, Machi had planned to order a cake for Nobunaga's birthday. She already knew what she wanted, it had been several weeks since she had imagined the piece, working meticulously on the details. She wanted it to be coated with mascarpone, nougatine pearls with a speculoos pastry, the top covered with a thirteen-legged spider in fleur de sel, then thirty candles would cover the whole thing.

The vibrator of her mobile phone brought her out of her daydream and her sweet smile faded completely when she read the contents.

They're drunk. Your turn. Good luck ^o^'

Machi huffed and puffed, and furiously put away her phone, cursing the manipulator, when she saw Shizuku in the elevator. She hesitated for a short moment, but as time was running out, she reluctantly asked her to order the cake.

.....

The troupe had enjoyed an excellent meal at the hotel restaurant when the waiter finally brought dessert.

Machi almost choked on his drink.

Instead of the cake she had imagined, there was a banana cake with two large, shapeless candles on top, almost burnt.

'This is not what I asked for.' Machi grabbed the waiter with such force that she almost broke his arm.

'Machi! Sorry, I couldn't remember which cake you wanted, so I chose Topi's favorite! I wanted to at least please the little one,' the little black-haired girl replied nonchalantly.

Machi loosened her grip and her icy look slipped towards poor Shizuku.

'Machi.'

Deep down, the ice queen knew that Shizuku wasn't responsible for her memory loss but she couldn't help it, she was angry.

Since Uvoguine's death, Machi felt helpless in the face of Nobunaga's plight, which she saw withering away. His suffering, his loneliness, his pain was bursting in ambiance, and she had the unpleasant feeling that she was the only one who understood the evidence.

She resented the spiders for that too. Against Shizuku, who hadn't managed to memorize a simple cake model. Against Feitan and Phinks, if those morons hadn't swallowed the equivalent of their weight in beer at four o'clock in the afternoon, she would have had time to order it herself. But more than anything else, she was angry with herself.

'Machi.'

When the brigade was still on York-Shin, no one knew that she spent three nights in the Goldo desert looking for Uvoguine's body, tracing tiny spikes of Nen that would have survived.

Eventually, she found him. The smell was nauseating, but it didn't matter. She cleaned his body with a damp glove, repaired his bruised limbs, and closed his eyes. Not wanting his friend to rest where the chain user had decided, she dug another grave. Then she adorned it with three flat stones intertwined with her Nen wire. This is what Nobunaga would have wanted.

'MACHI!'

Nobunaga's loud voice finally got her out of her head.

When she turned her head towards him, she was surprised to see that he was smiling at her. It was a real smile, one that came from the heart and made his dimples appear, right at the corner of her thin lips.

Nobunaga put his big hand on the pink-haired young woman's shoulder and gently pulled her against him, whispering in the crook of her ear, 'You've always been there, haven't you?

..........

As the situation seemed to calm down, no one noticed the little drops of sweat dripping from Illumi's forehead, still dressed in Kortopi. And for good reason, if the assassin was trained in all kinds of torture, poisons, and other joyous things, he had a ridiculous Achilles' heel.

The banana.

Illumi was mortally allergic to it. His parents - caring people - tried to make it ineffective on the puppeteer's body, through all kinds of treatments and force-feeding, but nothing ever worked.

Seeing the disaster coming and the spiders getting drunk as pigs, Illumi thought that he would have no better opportunity to escape than this one.

'Grow up, Topi!' The puppeteer didn't have time to push back the generous spoon served by Feitan that the piece of cake was already in the back of his mouth, knowing that the delicacy of a drunken Feitan is worth twice that of a sober Uvoguine.

And it happened.

Illumi took five steps before he regained his appearance. His head swelled like a watermelon making his large eyes look abnormally small, his usually slender fingers had become all puffy, and his slender silhouette settled as if his whole body was retaining water. He didn't die after all. But Illumi wondered if he might not have preferred it when he heard a hyena laughing from behind a column.

'I thought your transformations could last five hours ♥'

[melyaliz]

The Yellow Umbrella pt.5

Masterlist 

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary: Eating cookies and whip cream -NOT- off each other 

Pairing: Demon Lord! Loki x Reader

Notes: I’ve been struggling with this story. Like I have the outline and everything but… I feel just a little lost with where I am going. So I may take a small break. Idk.  I think it’s more I want it to be funnier but I don’t think it is. Then again I’m reading it over several times. 

Or it’s just me 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

------------------------------------

Loki sat up looking around the bedroom, curled up in a soft blanket and cuddled up with a stuffed pig. His new friend. His pig was getting more action with him than his secretaries at the moment. He had been here more in the past few days than his own bedroom really. 

Maybe he was acquiring a taste for cotton over silk. 

Getting up he noticed the fluffy pink robe laying on the floor. Picking it up he gracefully wrapped it over his body. Sadly there were no slippers. It did, much to his delight, have a hood with bunny ears.

“Well don’t you look adorable” the lady of cotton said looking up as Loki walked into the living room. She was scrolling on her phone as the tv played. A plate of cookies and can of whipped cream on the table in front of her. Loki just nodded, pulling the hood over making the bunny ears flop in front of his face. 

“I felt like I needed some sugar this morning,” she said, noticing him looking at her place of sugar. “If you want some you will have to risk Mr Mewoly”

“For those cookies, I will take the risk.” Loki’s pink ears bounced as he made his way to the kitchen. A pot of coffee sat on the counter as well. Opening the cabinet where he remembered seeing Yue pull out a mug he was greeted by a line of cream cups all etched with dark lettering  “Coffee, Hot chocolate, Tea” as well as some bowls that said soup pasta, and cereal. 

Pulling out an appropriate Coffee mug and helping himself to come coffee before risking his life grabbing a few cookies from the demonic cat’s body. Was it just him or did it’s eyes look even eviler than he remembered? Maybe he should get one of those, to guard his office when he isn't around. 

“I like your informinate dishware” Loki said, flopping onto the couch next to Yue who smiled at him. 

“It’s so I don’t forget.” she said as Loki grabbed her feet draping them over his lap before,“By the way, these cookies are amazing. Totally worth the risk.”

Loki nodded as he added a healthy amount of whip cream to his cookie before taking a bite, “Jeff, my assistant, got them for me.” 

“Oh fancy you have an assistant.”

“That I do.” Loki said, taking another bite of his cookie. His free hand gently stroked her ankle as he studied the TV. The two twins were battling some crazy puppets or something. He wasn’t totally paying attention, still waking up.  

“So your assistant’s name is Jeff huh. Do you also have a name?” Yue asked. Loki paused licking sweet cream from his lips as she flashed him a cheeky grin, “See what I did there, smooth.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle, She was as cute as her choice of robes and dishware, “Very” taking the last bite of his cookie he savored the taste for a moment before speaking again,  “Loki… and you?”

“Loki?” she let out a light laugh “what are you some norweedic god or something? Did you parents hate you? Like Thor I could see but… Loki? Wasn’t he like… the bad guy”

“Not bad necessarily… more like... smarter than everyone else.” 

“Still, Loki? Why not just say Hades, at least that bitch was loyal.”   

“Laugh it up, what’s your name?” 

“Yue”

He tried, but really he didn’t have much to say to that, “it fits you.” he said nodding. It did. It fit her like everything else in this apartment. It was just so… her. 

“So…” she said settling back into her couch of comfort, “Please don’t take this the wrong way but, I like this…. thing we have going.”

“Speaking of loyalty.” Loki said, raising an eyebrow, “I don’t really do relationships… I mean this has been fun, don’t get me wrong but, I’m not about to feed you some pomegranate seeds or whatever.”

“No, that’s what I mean. I like THIS” she motioned between the two of them, “No strings attached. Feeling like we don’t own anything to the other person.” 

“Well in that case I’m all for this thing we have.” 

“So you’ll keep stopping by?”

“I’m only a text away.” 

Nodding Yue pulled out her phone handing it to him, “I’m here for texting. I like to do things with my friends.” 

“Never want to get in the middle of that.” Loki said taking the phone entering his number, “I can always meet after if you're down.” 

“Deal” 

Her hand was still out so Loki took it and shook. Making it officially official. His slender fingers wrapping around her own. 

It felt like the beginning of something. But the fact was it kind of was.

The beginning of nothing. 

-----

“So you guys basically shook on being hook up buddies?” Sammie asked as she took a cookie from the plate that was on the table. 

“I think it’s cute” Riley said, “did you get him some snacks or are we special?”

“Well he actually got us those cookies,” Yue nodded down the now demolished plate of cookies. She had brought over to Sammie’s apartment for movie time, she would say night but it was more early evening. They were watching clueless with a bowl of carrots. And cookies because Yue refused to spend the whole night eating only healthy food even if it was for the memes. 

“He’s hot AND he gets your amazing sweets!?!” Riley moaned, “Are we sure this guy isn’t fake?” 

“Like what?” Sammie shickred, “Is he a cardboard cutout?” 

“Yes, he’s just got a cutout of Brendon Urie and I have been carrying him around pretending it’s my side piece.”

“I like how this cardboard cutout isn’t even your boyfriend. He’s a side piece which means you can sleep with other cardboard cutouts.” Sammie picked at the hole in her sock that had been slowly growing since the movie started. 

“I have Paul Rudd bringing me cake for lunch and Frank Sinatra delivering pizza for dinner.” 

“Living the dream” Riley chuckled, “Oh I have an idea! After this movie  let’s find you something to help him eat your cookie” holding up the image of a local sex shop on her google maps. “They close late like a good sex shop too.” 

“Really Riley?” Sammie said looking up at the shop skeptically. “We have like 6 other movies planned.” 

“We could always watch them after. Go on a quick adventure.” 

“Adventure!” Yue giggled, “Come on Sammie maybe we can find you something tasteful for your presentation on Monday.” 

“Yes I’m sure the Magic Cherry will have JUST what I need to help me pitch my website design on Monday.”  

“Something Leather maybe? I’m sure the party planning company will be super into it.” 

“Yue’s right, after all they ARE all about partying.” 

Sammie fought back a smile as she tossed Yue a hoodie. “Let’s just get there before they close. I don’t want to be those jerks who are there when the workers want to leave.” 

Yue nodded following her friends out bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. Feeling giddy with excitement. “This is the craziest thing I have ever done.” 

------------------------

“It was the craziest thing I have ever done” 

“That’s where you have been? Doing the craziest thing ever?” Jeff asked as he came up behind Loki holding his black umbrella. Loki surveyed the dark road as they both slowly walked under the large red bridge. 

“Yep we watched this show called Gravity Falls.” 

“What?” 

“It’s a popular children’s cartoon.” 

“A children’s show?” 

“We ate cookies with whip cream.” 

“Off each other?” 

“Out of bowls,” Loki pulled out a pair of white rubber gloves from his pocket, putting them on. 

“Oh, did you… was she young?” 

“For human standards no, you know I don’t mess with anyone who is not within reason.” 

“Cookies for breakfast is the craziest thing you have ever done? Really?” Jeff sighed, closing the umbrella shaking it. Most of the rain had slowed at this point and from where they were standing it wasn’t really doing much good anyway. 

Loki chuckled slowly crouching down. Holding out his hand he waited for Jeff to hand him his cane. Which he did. “I wore a fluffy pink robe with bunny ears.”

“I guess it’s important to have new experiences.” his assistant sniffed looking around tugging his coat closer to himself. 

Loki nodded using the sharp end of his cane to poke at something. 

A dead body. Half its face already decaying in the muddy ground, eyes missing. Around it several others. All their eyes missing bits of their body decaying.

“You sent these vampires out only two days ago.” Jeff, “You think it’s the faceless?” 

“No” Loki sighed standing up, “This is something else. Something worse.” 

“What should I tell the others?” 

“Stay in packs and if anyone knows anything to come to me right away.” Loki turned surveying the site that lay before them. He had sent for the vampires from Seattle to go down to LA to check on Brandon after the LA demon hadn’t shown up for their meeting. While not unusual it hadn’t sat right with Loki. 

Now with almost ten vampires laying here dead and the rest missing he was starting to worry. If someone had overthrown Brandon they would normally approach Loki. New terf lords would want to make a truce with the most powerful Demon Lord on this continent. 

No news, in this case, meant nothing good. 

-------------

“They have butt plugs that have tails,” Riley said holding a pretty pink and glitter one, “And a unicorn horn, I could fulfill all my little kid dreams and become a unicorn.” 

“Please don't refer to yourself as a little girl in here” Sammie frowned, “It’s weird.”

“Ok, sorry sorry.” Riley said looking over the other items on the wall. “I have been wanting to try these,” she said, pulling a pair of nipple clamps. Sammie, already feeling VERY out of place just looked down at her phone nodding.

“Get whatever you want, I just don’t want to picture you and Sam… doing stuff.” 

“Ok fine,” Riley said, grabbing ones she thought she would like before walking over to Yue who was looking over a rack of panties.

“Find anything fun?” 

“Yeah a few things, What do you think?” she asked, holding up a lacy lingerie. A pretty green color.  

“Love the color” Riley nodded before grabbing a pair of fluffy black cuffs, “Get these too,” 

“Ok but I want the pink ones,” Yue giggled thinking about the morning where Loki had dressed up in her bunny robe. He looked good in it. Under all that eyeliner and studds he was just a big dork. She found it hilarious and would do everything to keep messing with that side for her own amusement. 

“So are you guys meeting up tonight?” Sammie asked, coming up nodding toward the set Yue was holding approving. 

“No he hasn’t texted me.” 

“So what about late dinner? Gary was saying we should go out to this speakeasy place.”

“Oh let me text Sam,” Riley said, “He’s been wanting to go there. Yue you can just find your Paul Rudd while we are out.”

“Or just enjoy the company I’m with.” Yue snickered, “I don’t have to spend every night hooking up.” 

“What’s the fun in that?” The cashier chuckled as she took Yue’s things. 

“A girl needs at least one night to herself.” 

“Well you got the wrong stuff for a night by yourself.” the cashier said as she wrapped everything up, “But I do have some dildos on sale if you want some you time.” 

--------------------------

Sam had responded almost immediately that he would pick the girls up. Something about a long week and just wanting to be with his lady. So rushing back to their apartment the girls quickly changed out of their jeans and hoodies into more slutty hipster attire. (A girl’s gotta dress the occasion after all) 

Once she was more speakeasy and less “I am cuddling with my two best friends watching movies” Yue grabbed her bag and walked outside her apartment. After locking her door she turned almost running into a tall dark haired man. Dressed in a red leather jacket he was smoking a cigarette. Yue’s eyes instantly went up to the man’s bold white streak that ran across the front of his black hair. Blue eyes looking down at her amused. 

“Oh, excuse me.” 

The large man shrugged holding out his cigarette pack “Want one?” 

Yue shook her head, thrusting her keys back into her purse, “I’m good thanks.” 

He nodded putting the pack away, “You’re all dressed up, going somewhere fun?” 

“Yeah just dinner with friends.” 

“Nice, I’m visiting a friend, know any good places to go?” 

“Uh well we are going to Idain Basian but if you want something more happening, maybe like Valencia street?” 

“Oh sounds good, I’m not big on waterfronts.” 

“Well I hate to break it to you but San Francisco is basically an island.” 

This earned her another chuckle. “True, well have a good night and be careful there’s a full moon out tonight, never know what crazy you'll run into.” 

Yue nodded walking toward the gate of the complex where her friends were waiting, turning back she got one last look at the man, for a moment she could have sworn it looked like his eyes glowed. 

Maybe she was watching too many cartoons. 

Or maybe he was just a bunch of gnomes in a trench coat. 

No, she was definitely watching too many cartoons. 

-GET TAGGED!- 

Masterlist 

Forever tag:  @the-shadow-of-atlantis @coffee-randomness @0hmydeku @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear  @jason-redhood @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr  @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep  @cdwmtjb8

Story:  @irwin-hood @hit-th3r0ck @cruel-kitten @boofrarti @i-miukimiuki @mmimagine-40 @mynameofuser @pia-1000 @angelgl16 @the-fifth-marauder03 @plutos-deamonchild @frenchfrostpudding @carydorse @neverleturheartshow2​ @sebhiddleston​ @probsjosh @dracaryspowpow @andrea20967​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @olive-tini @albinotigerpython @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ @alessia--winchester 

[nocturnalsleeper]

500 Drawing Prompts

waterfall

wizard's staff

zombies

sandcastle

fangs

tattoo

family crest

spaceship

mythical beast

spooky tree

alien

tropical cocktail

robot

dragon

tombstone

medieval goblets

king's throne

mermaid

vampire

witch's cauldron

tooth fairy

deep sea monster

magic carpet

sculpture

coral reef

wine bottle

statue of liberty

beast

beauty

elephant

Mayan ruins

birds

cameras

bowl of soup

breakfast

lunch

snack

dinner

flower vase

ladder

full moon

bright sun

autumn

summer

spring

winter

butterfly

caterpillar

troll

roller skates

rain boots

weeds

flowers

bedroom

kitchen

dining room

bathroom

egg hatching

wrist watch

night

harvest

pond

raincoat

hat

water bottle

flashlight

sailboat

dandelion

earthworm

bank robber

policeman

superhero

villain

view out a window

cactus

sunflower

mosquito

spider web

star fish

flip flops

lawn chair

trampolines

pots and pans

sword

lighthouse

pie on a windowsill

house plant

soldier

chimney

barbed wire

squirrels

hot sauce

chain

beehive

helicopter

hot dog

venus flytrap

stained glass

sphinx

skateboard

serenity

open book

werewolf

hourglass

tower

camel

Cleopatra

favorite book character

desert

forest

mountains

ocean

pumpkin seed

pine cone

octopus

mannequin

lollipop

something sticky

footprints

tractor

slime

island paradise

sand dune

archer

my favorite outfit

trophies

fishing fly

black hole

cyclops

swan

mirror

microphone

pretzels

newspaper

submarine

scrambled eggs

eel

wave

bike

leather boots

keys

coffee cup

self portrait

snake charmer

playground

sumo wrestler

crystal chandelier

eight ball

secrets

treasure chest

children's toy

something that sparkles

penguin

unicorn

pirate

tribal pattern

suit of armor

pinball machine

erupting volcano

seahorse

ninja

happy monster

futuristic car

three little pigs

magic amulet

yeti

toolbox

fish bones

zipper

carpenter

handcuffs

doll house

mask

telescope

piano

windmill

double sided axe

samurai

ghost

hot air balloon

bubbles

polka dots

plate of cookies

snake scales

pair of socks

high dive

belt

figure skater

fisherman

space

jack-o-lantern

Cinderella's glass slipper

hay bale

bumper cars

cover wagon

spy

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parachute

tree bark

radio

art gallery

bow and arrow

pepperoni pizza

snail

bushel of apples

doorknob

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harp

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sprinkler

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jewelry

ballet

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tripod

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bow tie

Saturn's rings

birdcage

swap creature

horse and carriage

banana peel

stapler

toothpaste

thunder storm

movie poster

video game controller

cinnamon sticks

target

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elf

alien plant life

first love

new baby

kids jumping

glaciers

shark

scarf

wheelchair

blacksmith

four wheeler

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crossroads

pedestal

police car

pug

someone who is full of joy

what's under your bed

hieroglyph

dolphin

wooden shield

laughing

jump rope

desk

something big next to something small

taxi

staircase

tomahawk

hummingbird

hedgehog

gorilla

firetruck

soda can

teddy bear

fortune cookie

fruit basket

smirk

game of marbles

crumpled paper

swordfish

alarm clock

goldfish

puppet

salt and pepper shakers

jet pack

time machine

hands

wood fencing

cave mouth

milkshake

high heeled shoes

music

smile

mad scientist

telephone booth

skyscraper

gargoyle

diamond

sushi

brier patch

something that comes in pairs

box of chocolates

brick wall

bat

chicken

bonsai tree

headphones

a new typeface

jellyfish

candy canes

lawn mower

rain puddles

school

lamb

wolf

bed

bowl of popcorn

lampshade

peacock

turtle

bear

ceiling fan

yo-yo

oil spill

kite

invisible man

casino

Abraham Lincoln

ice cream cone

corn on the cob

claws

beekeeper

coins

watermelon

landing on the moon

rotary telephone

brain

rocks

needle in a haystack

picnic basket

fireplace

bottle of poison

genie in a bottle

knight

hammer

acorn

orange

owl

hair

wheel barrel

pyramids

exploding dynamite

shrimp

guitarist

keyboardist

drummer

singer

griffin

carousel horse

bunnies

puppies

board game

a famous painting

stone walkway

maple leaf

lizard

eyes

ears

nose

mouth

leopard

record player

bulldozer

bride

snowman

feather headdress

playing cards

windy day

sleeping bag

dancing skeleton

piggy bank

wizard

evil prince

lantern

beach ball

cherub

sprout

aircraft carrier

olympic swimmer

wedding dress

feather

baseball glove

noodles

cat

dog

happy

sad

angry

relaxed

graffiti

motorcycle

tornado

caveman

pineapple

Lock Ness monster

flag

gas mask

starry sky

dream house

deer

Goldilocks

frog

tadpole

swing

circus clown

earth

cupcake

lace

rocking chair

bravery

Big Ben

doctor

railroad car

parade

Christmas sweater

Ferris wheel

sci-fi gun

medicine cabinet

birthday party

cutlery

great wall of china

umbrella

traffic sign

catapult

light bulb

bamboo

heart

moon colony

sandwiches

juice box

lake house

bushes

hard candy

camouflage

platypus

football helmet

soccer game

balloons

astronaut

missing teeth

memory

jukebox

tulip

ladybug

birthday cake

t-shirt

igloo

golf ball

fossils

your least favorite food

pencil cup

half eaten apple

food with a face

horseshoe

daffodil

castle

tea party

scared

bag of chips

camping

cabin

bonfire

ship

watering can

palm tree

wind chimes

armchair

fireworks

knife

wine cork

waitress

farmer

fountain

last leaf on a tree

saber toothed tiger

grocery store

rainbow

typewriter

engine

bluebird

shooting star

a new invention

school of fish

bearded lady

secret garden

suspension bridge

viking artifact

Eiffel tower

a feast for a king

guitar

tree house

seashell

dinosaur

sea lion

Taj Mahal

your favorite animal in a tuxedo

[whirlybirbs]

    ✪ ------ 1. OF ROBBERY, KIDNAPPING & MURDER.

summary: the van der linde gang aims to beat the o’driscolls to the punch in kidnapping the bride-to-be of a railroad magnate named waylon robbins. for miss turner, this is quickly becoming the worst day of her life... cue a botched kidnapping and symbolism abound. arthur called it, really. word count: 3.4k pairing: high honor!arthur morgan x female!reader, turner as a placeholder last-name. listen to: “kicks” by barn courtney a/n: i told you my one goal was to make you all fall in love with with arthur, so uhhhhhhh buckle the fuck up folks

“Kidnapping...?”

It sounds so damn simple when said aloud.

... All of Dutch van der Linde’s plans usually do.

Arthur Morgan, though, a man built on loyalty and fiercely so, would never openly admit he hates how easily the aging leader of the Van Der Linde gang can string him and the others along with the promise of success and cash. Swindling -- it’s like second nature to Dutch; he’s slippery and well-spoken and charming and cunning more than anything else in this world.

He’ll be a snake in the next life, Hosea used to say with wisdom and wit, Just you see.

There’s something respectable about it, though -- Arthur is aware he himself is far too easy to read to be some gallivanting gang leader destined to bring his people promises of fortune and health and all things good. He’s always been like that. His intentions show on his face. In moments like these, Arthur needs not to say a thing. Instead, his hesitation shines through in a scowl, his disposition morphed into something unimpressed and skeptical.

Hosea can’t help but hide a smile into his cup of coffee. The boy he’d nearly nursed is a man now -- through and through -- but still holds a youthful sort of ruggedness to him at times. Arthur is pouting. Plainly put.

“Kidnapping,” Arthur says again, sounding it out and not liking the taste it leaves in his mouth, “I dunno, Dutch...”

“Mr. Morgan,” it’s Karen who speaks then, looming over Arthur’s shoulder and pointing out the skepticism in question, “All I’ve been hearin’ is chatter about the O’Driscolls --”

Her voice is eager. Ever an excitable woman.

“And wouldn’t it be nice to beat Colm to the punch?” cracks Micah, as if he’s some kind of puppet for Dutch.

Kiss ass.

The rickety wooden table in the center of van der Linde’s camp has gathered nearly everyone -- save for Abigail and little Jack -- and Arthur is suddenly very aware of the eyes glued to him.

The outlaw crosses his arms, pushing a hand along his jaw. A low rumble works itself from his throat.

“So, what? We kidnap some girl for money,” Arthur drawls on, sounding out the plan, “Ransom her off, expectin’ th’ law, who, mind you is still diggin’ through the hills of West Elizabeth lookin’ for us, to ignore it? We’re still getting our footing here an’ --”

“And cash would help,” says Dutch, “I understand your hesitation, my friend, but --”

“But, Arthur has a point,” Hosea, ever the voice of reason, musters, “This is going to garner attention.”

“Who is this lady anyway?”

It’s Mary-Beth who steps up, now, hands clasped tightly around her journal. “She’s the daughter of a lawyer from Point Pleasant, a town out West. Turner is the family name -- rumors been spreadin’ like wildfire that she’s due to marry some railroad magnate named Waylon Robbins.”

“Right,” Arthur scoffs with a bitterness everyone knows well, “A friend a’ Leviticus Cornwall, no doubt.”

“Brother-in-law, actually.”

“Yer kiddin’.”

“Not at all,” Mary-Beth insists, “Meaning there’s a lot of money here, Mr. Morgan, and that is why the O’Driscolls want to make the first move.”

“How’d y’ hear about this again?” Arthur leans back in his chair, knuckles drumming on the table before he waves and bites in with a questioning tone, “Can we confirm any of it?”

“Sure can,” John says, “Charles and I scouted out the area the girls heard them talkin’ about -- the O’Driscolls have set up camp there, no doubt ready to choke the carriages off when they hit the pass.”

Arthur spares Charles a look. He trusts him more than Morstan. Charles nods. Clapping Arthur’s shoulder.

“This could be good, Arthur.”

“... Seems like y’all have all made yer minds up, then.”

“We just need our best man, Arthur.”

That’s a plea if he’s ever heard one. Dutch is leaned forward now, hands on the table and eyes set on his left-hand man. Hosea, to the right, is quiet, watching as the blonde outlaw exhales.

Then, he sips his coffee.

After a moment of silence and weighing the odds, Arthur Morgan shrugs.

“Kidnapping, then.”

A chorus of woops circles the table.

The ride is miserable.

That’s really the only way you can describe it -- I mean, there you are, sweating bullets across from your bitter mother and bitter father and your less-than-amused younger sister. Jenny, though, spares you a single look and, from your left, nudges your elbow and offers you her fan.

You gratefully accept it. You feel like you could throw up.

Fwip, fwip, fwip.

You’re weighed down by the intricate gown your mother had insisted upon for this morning’s failure of a breakfast -- your hair had been done up an intricate plaits, pinned with pearls and the promise of marriage. The corset around your waist is awfully tight, maybe too tight, and your find yourself wishing you could just rip the plooms of fabric around your shoulders off. The high neckline might paint you all sorts of sophistication, but right now, it just makes you want to scream.

What you’d give to be back home, back at your desk. A good book would take the edge off.

Cue another miserable pass of more silence.

The carriage rocks and you hold your breath, trying desperately to stop the whole world from spinning. You’re tied between tunnel vision and hurling when your mother catches your eye.

Fwip, fwip, fwip, a bit more furiously now.

“ -- You surely can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious,” you bite back with a woozy look, “I won’t --”

“Enough.”

You father doesn’t even look at you.

Miserable. Absolutely miserable.

And that’s when the yelling starts.

Overhead, a hawk cries.

The sand dances with mirages in the valley.

The carriage, a deep plum and with windows blocked by plush curtains, rocks along.

From his spot on the grassy overlook, Arthur drops his binoculars back into his sacel and pushes himself up into a squat. He taps Charles shoulder, beckoning to John. The both blink up at him, squinting into the sun.

Christ, it’s hot.

“Tha’s our lucky carriage,” he says, “Both of you, on me. We’re gunna run ‘em West of th’ gorge, Dutch an’ Micah an’ Hosea will choke ‘em off on th’ other side of th’ pass. Don’t wanna get the attention of the O’Driscolls now.”

The mid-day sun is beating on Arthur’s back when he beats into the stirrups and kicks his stead into a sprint -- the formation is lead by the blonde outlaw, quick to wind through the mountain pass. Bandanas and sleeves are pulled up, faces masked under the black material and brim of hats.

It’s something mighty terrible -- they are, all of them, outlaws and criminals and wanted men in this moment -- the sight of the them, holstered up and with fire in their eyes, might be enough to scare off even the most daring of lawmen. Arthur, in the heat of moments like these, is proud to be in thick with the thieves.

This feeling? It’s unstoppable.

And so, in a storm of dust and vicious jeers, the van der Linde gang descends upon the Turner family’s carriage.

“What in the fresh hell --”

A bullet tears through the middle of the carriage.

In one side, out the other. Straight between you and your father.

Symbolism is one hell of a thing, isn’t it?

You and your sister blink at it.

The furious fwip, fwip, fwip-ing of your fan stops and suddenly, the carriage kicks forward in a panicked sprint. You yelp, gripping Jenny tight as your mother flies into your lap with a screech. As if the jarring movements of the carriage hadn’t already been horrid, now it’s worse -- the yell of the driver rattles through the cabin.

“We’ve got a problem, Mr. Turner!”

You move, peeling aside the velvet curtains -- up along the ridge are three men on horses, pounding into the sand; the sight, if it wasn’t so real, could be considered awesome like something out of a story-book. Your jaw falls slack. Their faces are hidden beneath bandanas, guns gripped tight in one hand and reigns in the other.

Highwaymen.

Their whoops echo off the canyon walls.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

This is, officially, the worst day of your life.

Suddenly, your view is blocked by the dark side of a horse pulling up along the carriage -- you’re offered a single, humorous tip of a hat by the man in question, striking blue eyes pulled into a wildly devilish look. He spurs his horse on, moving to press himself up onto his saddle. His boots, polished jet-black with golden spurs, glint in the light.

And he jumps.

Arthur lands atop the carriage with a heavy thud, ribs screaming in protest. He’s sweatin’ like a pig now, gloved hand moving to grasp at his hat as he gets his footing. He pushes on, leaning as he digs his fists into the driver’s shoulders of his dress shirt.

“Sorry, pal.”

The carriage rocks and you blanch as the driver -- a kind man by the name of Thomas -- flies by your window with a horrible scream. You fly forward as the carriage is stopped dead in the middle of the canyon pass.

The carriage skids, tipping violently back and forth as it settle in the dirt. The dust kicked up around the carriage begins to settle as you realize you’re stopped in a standstill. 

There’s another cry of a hawk above.

This is an awfully well curated robbery, you think. The high, rocky walls of the gorge are blocking the carriage in and the circling of the highwaymen atop their horses becomes ever present.

Along with the laughter.

The outlaws are laughing.

Inside, the carriage is silent.

Jenny grips your hand.

“John,” it’s your mother, clinging to your father with a whisper, “What do we do?”

“We reason with them --”

You spare a look at your father, then, and his usual coolness is back -- his aging face is set with an angry sort of determination that is swiftly cut down when the door to the carriage is yanked open.

If this wasn’t life or death, maybe you would have gotten more satisfaction out of it.

“Hiya, folks.”

The gun pressed to the temple of your father riles a scream out of your mother. You and Jenny keep quiet, lips sealed tight, and you watch as the men seem to double in numbers -- suddenly, there’s three hauling your family from the carriage. You watch as Jenny is passed into a rough grip, one man helps her down and another trains his hands on her waist.

Stepping into the sun, you blink rather incredulously, at the act.

Irritation, born out of the heat and torture of the morning boils over.

When you emerge, struck square in the face by the heat of the summer sun, the gang falls into silence for a breaking moment, all eyes landing on you as you stand in the doorway of the carriage.

You’re certainly something -- a high-class girl poised in a dress worth more than him, he reasons. Your hair, swept into an intricate style, screams Paris couture and Arthur realizes that all the rumors the girls had overheard about you must be true. You look like you sleep on a mattress full of money.

Arthur shares a look of approval with Dutch.

This might actually work, this whole kidnapping thing.

“And you must be th’ Miss Turner we’ve all heard so much about.”

It’s a low drawl.

Arthur, sweeps his hat from his head, dropping into a rather mocking bow as you recognize him as the one who’d kindly chucked Thomas off the canyon five hundred feet back.

He’s something scary -- all muscle and broad shoulders and guns strapped to his hips and thigh. His eyes are wild with something you can’t pin down. You’re nearly sure you see a smirk behind his black bandana; the creeping tan along his arms calls to man who spends his afternoons running from lawmen. His hair is like gold, messed from the afternoon ride and lawless activities.

You decide, in that moment, you don’t like him.

From the bottom step of the carriage, he offers a hand.

You swat it away on instinct.

The look on your face is one of fire and determination.

You snap. “I can manage fine, thank you.”

That riles sudden laughter out of the gang. The one with the blue eyes gives a deep laugh then, his hat pressed to his abdomen as he does. He swipes at sweat along his brow, dropping a hand to his belt as he eyes you critically.

“And an attitude t’ boot!”

Anger flares in your chest, face twisted into a horribly mean look. You help yourself down on shaking knees. Your heels hit the hot dirt and you stumble; the summer heat of West Elizabeth is like a punch in the gut. Jenny is quick to glue herself to your side, fisting your dresses sleeves in a tight grip. You glance to the back of the carriage, watching as two other men begin to off load trunks of belongings onto their horses. You spot yours, a small black one, throw among their stash.

“Awfully kind a’ you folks t’ stop fer us,” says another highwayman now, “Now, if you’d --”

“If you’re smart,” bites your father, “You’ll let us go. I have money, I can write a check --”

“That,” the one with the blue eyes says as he raises a finger, “We know --”

“Then let us go!” cries your mother, “We’ll give you all we have and go on our way --”

“Betsy --”

“Shut up, John --!”

Suddenly, another gunshot. Everyone jumps as the sound ricochets around the red canyon.

It kicks dust between you and the blue-eyed outlaw.

Symbolism. What a thing.

Simple.

This was supposed to be simple.

This is not simple.

“O’Driscolls!”

The gang scatters on instinct, running like ants under a boot at the sudden appearance of at least ten O’Driscolls on the canyon’s ledge -- beneath the iron sights of their rifles, the gang is exposed and so is their damn loot; Arthur calls out to Charles and John quickly, fingers drawn between his lips as he whistles for his horse.

“Grab th’ girl!” he cries, “Grab ‘er an’ get outta here!”

He didn’t specify which girl.

Arthur, really, didn’t think he’d need to.

But, when the boys pull Jenny from you and throw her on the back of Charles’ horse, you’re left pinned to the back side of the carriage as bullets swiss in and out of the wood. Arthur’s eyes are pulled wide as he realizes you’re the one they needed -- he skids to the dirt at your feet, hand wrapping tight around your wrist as he pulls you towards his horse.

“Time t’ go, lady!”

“Let go of me!”

“Will you stop --!”

You land a good punch on his arm, kicking as he drags you up with a huff and pins you in-front of him on the saddle -- his horse bucks with an angry whinny and bucks. You pale, motion sickness roaring back up like a tide as you become a bit more passive.

Arthur calls out to Dutch and the others over his shoulder:

“Get the goods out of here -- we gotta go!”

Your eyes widen as horses begin to pour into the canyon behind you. You shriek as a bullet whizzes by your head and you swear you could feel the air on it. Your hands fist the saddle, voice pulling a startled yell from your throat as the outlaw kicks his golden spurs into the belly of the beast underneath you and sends you both flying into a sprint. Your back hits his chest, hair flying wildly.

Arthur sputters, spitting hair out of his mouth. He pulls a face before calling out.

“C’mon, boy! Hiya!”

The pace is grueling, fueled by the hot iron on their heels. Bullets are whizzing by left and right, the clobber of hooves filling your ears. You can feel him, the blue-eyed man, hunching over you, trying his best to protect you from the firefight. He snaps the reigns with a flick of his wrist, pulling his bandana down so he can breathe. He turns, looking back to check his six, losing his hat in the process.

The first time you ever get a good look at Arthur Morgan, he’s cursing like a sailor, sweating like a pig and running for his life.

As far as first impressions go, this is just about right.

The sudden change in sound of his horses hooves catches your attention and you blink down, noticing the change in terrain -- it’s a hollow sound.

You’re on railroad tracks.

You realize, suddenly, the outlaw is trying to make a pass, to hike up and around the bridge the other gang is trying to choke him off at -- but, when he hits the trail, Arthur tugs fast the other way. He can see O’Driscolls are lining the ridge to the South, towards camp, and the split decision in direction sends you both and his horse careening across a narrow bridge.

You blink down.

KAPLUNKKAPLUNKKAPLUNKKAPLUNK. The sound of the hooves on the bridge is panic inducing.

Twenty feet down, the Dakota river rushes by.

A bullet kicks wood splinter up ahead of you.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you scream in a rush over the wind, fingers gripping the saddle, “You’re going to kill us both!”

“Will you shut up?!”

Don’t remind me.

Down the valley, there’s at least fifteen men on horses following you, their rides splashing through a shallow end of the river as they cross fifty feet up the hill -- to your right, it’s the same; you’d be thankful if they were lawmen, but you have an inkling of a feeling these O’Driscoll boys are out to get the same thing as the man behind you on the saddle.

The bridge, though? Well, it’s a clear shot -- no winding trails and hills -- and as Arthur begins to pull ahead, begins to think this just might work...

The blaring horn of a train hits his ears as it exits the tunnel up ahead.

Your eyes widen.

His horse comes to a painfully sharp stop and you fly forward; the horse gives a horrible cry as it realizes the impending danger just as you both do.

“There’s -- oh no, no, no--”

“Yeah, I see it, damn it--”

“Train, train!”

Arthur turns back then, yanking the reigns in a panic and trying to speed his horse up, but -- there’s no way. Not with that 1,500 ton, coal swallowing, iron giant barreling towards them. Not with you and him both on the back of it. Arthur curses, eyes moving to the edge of the bridge as they ride at a breaking pace.

The river below is deep there. The water is dark blue, glittering in the high afternoon sun.

His eyes are wild, blinking back at the train over his shoulder.

“... Son of a bitch,” he grumbles, coming to the realization that this is going to have to happen.

Suddenly, he pulls back on the reigns, They stop. He swings his legs over the edge of his horse.

CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG! CHOOOOOOOOOOOO --

“What are you doing?!” you shriek again, kicking his hands away, clawing at the reigns.

“Nice day fer a swim, don’t you think --”

“What -- get off --!”

The horn blares, louder this time, and the chug of wheels rattle the bridge. You both turn to look, eyes pulled into panic. Arthur’s grip on your waist is tight, hauling you over his shoulder as he slaps the back of his horse, sending it off in a blink. You screech, clawing at his back as the train gets closer and closer and the bridge is shaking and the horn rattles your chest and it’s getting closer and closer and closer --

CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG --

And the last thing you see is the blue-eyed outlaw’s apologetic look as he hauls you and then himself off the bridge at Fool’s Pass.

-- CHOOOOoooooo!

SPLASH!

Kidnapping.

It’s always simpler said aloud.

[thesalemsaga]

𝟭 — 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿

—  𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙖.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 6.8k words

𝙨 : salem, the mistress of evil, has been made aware of a resistance group being made within the walls of the empire academy, valhalla. meanwhile, young seren has a bit of an epiphany.

the most unfortunate thing about the mistress’s palace, is that nobody will ever hear you scream.

in the black mountain, the darkness hardly distinguishes day from night. and they say that after losing a track of time, of days, going on without gazing at a clock or a calendar or even getting a peek at the stars, can drive a person to mere insanity. that was what many claimed happened to the witch when she was confined into this palace and was left to her own accord.

although light never shone once through those tainted, ebony windows, life still continued within the monolith. although not the healthy life that one might expect, not the life with clear morals or allowing a faith to carry you through your good doings, not even that flicker of passion towards pass-times and careers that keep you up and moving, nothing of the sort was ever seen in these walls. rather, it seemed like everything about humanity had abandoned the creatures from within. 

the seemingly natural and human way of living had been lost within their countless decades here. time was not even a concept, they weren’t sure what use it was to count the hours and days and years you spend there, you’d just make it worse for yourself within the hope that tomorrow you will escape. and if not tomorrow, then in a week. and if not in a week, then in a month, two months, three. upon realizing that time might never come, you peer at those tallies drawn on the dark cobble walls and sneer and scream into an empty vacuum of space where nobody will hear you and save you.

it’s no use getting out either, not without the witch’s permission.

but even if you go out and are asked to return, you must pray to whatever deity remains on this cracked crater of a planet, in hopes that you return with good news. if not good news, decent news. but never bad news. bad news like, the fact that soldiers from the empire front seemed to have located the traces of one of salem’s henchmen.

yeah, good luck getting out of something like that.

inside one of the many halls of the dead palace, a sudden sound erupted. the scout wheezed and coughed as his head was lifted from the pool of water. tangled through raven locks and pulling and yanking, the gloved hands of the witch minded him like a puppet. they leaned over what could have been a pool, but the water was far from pristine or blue, it was a sea-weed green and at certain times, you might just spot a fin breaking through the surface before submerging once more.

this had been going on for nearly five minutes, but it felt like hours. having your head being forced down this certain pool would attract something ugly that lies in the deep end, the mere scent of your blood will put you in danger. but one could hardly care for the life of a mere scout when the mistress of evil has some minor, and by that, major problems on her hands.

“ m-my lady, please, show mercy! ”.

when she forced his head back down, salem’s eyes appeared fit to kill. two vermilion spots lacking any source of previous humanity, but even with the eyes, you wouldn’t take her for having been once a beautiful woman. the horns on her head were curled with ends as sharp as a double edged sword. her complexion was as lifeless as ash clouds summoned by an erupting volcano. salem hardly looked like a witch, she seemed fit to be a demon, a horned one, at that. and perhaps a part of her had some relation to the beings dwelling in the fiery pits below, especially once glancing at the limits of her ire.

minutes prior to this, the same scout she had sent out with about a dozen goblins had returned with news she had not been expecting. news regarding the empire, the people who have tried to take her down for the past two decades. there had been no success although salem was hardly an idiot, she was not one to underestimate the passion of vengeful humans, she was a vengeful human herself. it wouldn’t be long before they charged in with torches and pitch-forks to burn the witch.

resistance groups were growing within the walls, according to the chatter of some military men wandering between the boarder of what was the ukraine. the scout, a good fighter as well as an idiot, could have escaped without alerting the men of his presence and that of the dozen goblins he had brought with him, but he did not. the mere rustle in the bushes alerted the soldiers of a darker presence listening into their banter, and although killing was not on salem’s demand, it had to be done.

what could have been tyrants avoiding giving their status and identity away instead became an altercation that left one soldier cubed to pieces whilst the other fled, and to add salt to the wound, a stupid goblin who went after him was seen by the patrol ship they had parked in the area. checkmate for the empire soldiers.

to make a long story short, salem was fucked.

salem’s berserk force yanked the man’s head out from the mermaid pit and just a small flicker of pleasure manifested in those dead eyes. if there was one thing that she did love doing ( and she doesn’t love many things ) it was ensuing a well-taught lesson on consequences. and she was a rather strict teacher when it came to that.

“ listen to me, you filthy pig ”, she spat, sneering as the man found to catch his breath. her grip on his hair only tightened. “ you had clear instructions. you had them fucking written down, i even took some remorse since you have a god-awful memory and you want to tell me to have mercy, when you just fucking gave a major clue away to those empire fuckers?! ”.

the man continued to cough and wheeze as salem’s spat pure venom, “ what is it with you men, huh? can’t take orders from a woman? is your superiority alarm blaring so hard that you just won’t adhere to the fucking orders because a woman gave them to you? answer me, you pig! ”. he couldn’t. “ d-do you know how fucked i am? well not in the best way, i’ll tell you that. all of my efforts to make my location have gone to shit because you couldn’t keep your lousy ass out of trouble for five minutes. five years! five years stuck in this cold shithole and you gave it all away, you filthy animal. oh, i’m not going to show any mercy at all. ”

although the currents were disturbed by the abuse brought upon the scout, the waves did not fail to suddenly grow rampant, as if enraged. and around the same time, salem shoved his head down far enough for the water to engulf his shoulders. and it was not her who pushed him into the water, rather it was an unseen force yanking him into the depths. 

as the witch rose and paid one last glance at the pool over her shoulder, she took note of a red hue that rose to the surface. after that, silence.

elsewhere . . .

principal arthur armsend was a man of honor.

being a principal and leader to a new era of the world, leading boys and girls and what lies in between into a new age, a renaissance period that would take the world from being a dark and bleak place that they were no longer familiar with, into the peaceful planet they had known it to be a hundred years ago. and he did so by a sharp discipline he gave to all of his students.

classes started at eight o’clock and go on until about four, and every day, something new is taught. from alchemy and martial arts, to care of mythical creatures and history. three meals were held every day at the immense cafeteria, free time started after classes in which students were able to enjoy the open-air yards of this floating monolith in the sky. in fact, they were so high up that you might reach over the edge and touch a cloud.

 as opposed to many schools, the academy of valhalla was not one to waste time fooling around. third-year students and first-year students alike worked around the clock in order to harness the best skills in their arsenal in case the possibility of being sent out into missions came. and usually, when you were prepared, you might end up having the best results. students were told to be precise, to never make foolish mistakes, and to always remember why they were here.

although, nobody got it as bad as the principal’s daughter.

you’d expect the privilege to be very obvious; the ability to skip classes, to get out of trouble, to be an immediate social magnet, to be allowed out of the school and into the city to enjoy what it means to be young. any good parent with a somewhat loose way of raising their kids would spoil their child when they had the position they had. but for her, it was anything but that.

“ back straight, seren! ”.

she’s been at this for three hours. not joining her peers in the usual classes would mean that she would have to be doing something a little more different, a little more suited for her, and whilst many might role her eyes, they’d feel their stomach drop when they see the state that seren armsend is reduced to when brought into these private lessons.

at this point, her knees scrapped and legs clearly trembling, fatigued to the core, anyone could tell that seren was going through hell. these lessons tended to last three to four hours, but every time she so dared to look at the digital clock on the wall, her tutor would threaten to extend the time to fifteen minutes. ‘you wouldn’t take your eyes off your target in a real fight to see how long you’ve been at it’, he had said many times. and although it pained her, she had to agree.

her tutor, however, was none other than her old man. at the age of fifty, arthur still managed to maintain a certain posture to his stand whilst in battle that would trick anyone into aging him down a couple of years. he was a petite man, shorter than his daughter by two inches, and that most definitely did not stop him from butchering his daughter and bringing her to her limits in these training lessons.

how many times would seren have to be here a week, you ask? five times. fridays were generally the days in which she would have two of these sessions, one in the morning and the other placed right after lunch and she would only be back in her dorm at seven o’clock in order to crash, rest, and prepare for more lessons on a saturday morning.

iron thorn was clasped in her hand, arms tensing and aching to rest, her entire body ready to collapse the mere snap of the man’s fingers when he allowed her to rest but it wouldn’t be anytime soon. her training gear made her feel ten times heavier, and it was hot, boiling hot. but an armsend does not show struggle in the midst of a duel, they prefer to keep their enemies unsure of their condition to scare them or taunt them. you could only collapse once you’d finished what you started.

privilege, my ass. this is torture.

the clock was ticking towards the final bell which would dismiss all students but the ones in detention, and seren. “ finish what you started, come on. gaze up, for god’s sake fix that shoulder, and stop shaking your leg, you’ll stumble as soon as you lunge forward ”, she was used to receiving these comments, and she would take the feedback in an instant, because she knew arthur armsend when he was angry, a burden she shared in being his daughter.

iron thorn gave a minor whistle as she prepared to lunge once more, no essences were allowed to be used for the time being. if she did use something, the room might collapse. but she was tempted, oh young seren was tempted on pulling the trigger against the handle of her rapier and bring the ceiling to the ground. it would give her at least a minute to escape through the debris and run. 

even upon lunging with a perfect posture and speed, the blade clashed against the cane her father wielded. stabbing, withdrawing, lunging, withdrawing, flicking and withdrawing. each set of movement took a mere second because of her semblance, yet her father caught everything and she was beginning to grow slightly discouraged. although not as many could fight as well as him, she knew that there would be someone out there who could. one person. and if she were to cross paths with that person, she cannot steer to being passive. even though it was meagre simulation of a fight, seren was asked to treat it like a reality. and that, she did.

arthur bore a sudden attack that left seren scrambling to get out of her thoughts, darting in withdrawal with a backwards somersault and landing clumsily on her feet, her legs nearly rendering her weak enough to collapse yet she still had a bit of sharpness left in her to know that landing on your ass would certainly mean a scolding from your father later. 

this time, however, she did not have energy to raise her weapon to him as he pointed the end of his cane against her neck. she merely lifted her head and glanced upon his gaze that seemed rid of any emotion, meaning he was thinking, analyzing, arthur just wasn’t the type of man to wear his feelings on his face. he knew better than that.

seren didn’t. “ what was with that frown i saw? you know how many times i’ve taught you not to make your thoughts and emotions obvious on your face, your face has to be a blank canvas ”, he went on to say, lowering his cane and pressing the end against the ground. his posture straightened and he seemed to have dropped his defenses. she was not going to attack, however. “ seren. ”

“ m-my apologies, father ”, the girl gasped softly and blinked, verging dangerously close to the point of collapsing. something kept her awake, a part of her subconscious that wanted to keep her alive, her fight response. if not for it, then she would have perhaps been disowned or sent away just like her older sister.

now the only capable of heir in the family with the ripe age of eighteen, soon graduating from the academy, seren would have to carry the legacy of the cold armsend women who never once brought themselves close to failure. she would have to probably join the military route upon parting ways from valhalla, leading young soldiers to restore their lost land. although, if you ask her, if she had the choice, she would have picked the exploration route. unfortunately, being born in this family means that your fate is already decided for you from the moment your presence in your mother’s belly is announced.

needless to say, you have to stay on the route of perfection.

arthur sighed, it was clear he wasn’t happy. “ we’ll cut the lesson short today. you will make up for it with an extra hour tomorrow after class ”, he decided, and in order to avoid angering the man, the girl pursed her lips together and nodded. if one stared for just a moment, they would notice the trepidation in her eyes.

her tutor, father, and principal turned and left the training chamber they had been in for the past four hours. now vacant, the only sound echoing being the pants emanating from her cracked lips and although she wanted nothing more but to lay down on the floor, seren only averted her tired gaze to the immense windows giving her perhaps the best view she’s had of the world outside in a while.

although the empire had seen better days, the mountain of crete was a good place to re-build a city and make the public feel safer inside the walls. there weren’t many who wanted to venture out, probably because they had everything they could ever want in here. technology meant that they could produce food by cloning and distributing it to millions, money never seemed to be an issue as there were jobs for everyone, though it was said that there lived some people outside of the walls, in mainland greece who took care of farms and cattle and had a somewhat older way of living that would have been seen in the medieval times. they were closer to the truth of the world, and the fact that at least a dozen would apply annually to move within the walls said something.

but the talk of the wild never petrified seren as it did to others. they had returned to a time where they believed society was safer, and as soon as you stepped into a zone with no laws or mentions of morals, you’d be in danger. yet she’s read stories of people who lived just fine in these conditions, monsters or no monsters. and though she shared some fears with the general public, the wild was not one of them.

if anything, seren was infatuated with the idea of going outside, of seeing the world for what it was and not for what others claimed it to be. they hardly showed images captured by the military when they leave the walls and attend an expedition, only returning in a week after taking geographical calculations and hurriedly leaving. hardly the military you want protecting you.

seren claimed that with her father in line, things would change. the third year graduates from the year before had gotten good results, one of them had succeeded in establishing a base in almost every continent that remained. and although hardly anyone visited those bases, they were there in case you found yourself lost and in serious need of help. many other alumni valhalla students made technological advancements towards transport and population control, others went more of a political way and started working alongside governors to change the shape of their monarchy. 

it was almost a guarantee that those who leave valhalla are destined for good things, but it felt as if seren would not be able to join her peers in that sense and it pained her to such an extreme where she wanted to jump out from those balconies, land in cold water and swim her way out of the city. yet she would have to return at some point, there is always a way back home after an adventure, even if it’s a short one.

seren looked down at her sword and tapped the floor with the tip for a moment, the blade had never once been blunt and yet it seemed like it was in desperate need of a recovery. it must have been caused by the countless daily training that hardly left her any time to catch up with her other subjects. her father was tempted on making a fighting machine out of her, and although she loved a good duel, seren was not a natural fighter. she was more of a diplomat, if you ask her.

lost in her thoughts, seren didn’t exactly hear the beeping sounds emitting from the door of the training chamber until it had come to her side and then began to feel a sensation against her leg. upon looking down, her frown disappeared and her eyes turned to crescents.

“ hi, ted. “

valhalla was known for having ‘familiars’, little creatures often used to advise students and although you couldn’t own them, you could befriend them. seren had known ted since he was made, which was roughly twelve years ago. he has been her friend long before he got signed up to be a companion to her school. at the age of six, ted was the robot she played with when she was alone.

smart, short and oh so adorable, ted-ee 012 mostly helped doctor lin with matters in computing lessons for those who lean more towards the technology route. but he was far from the war machine the school fabricated and more of a health robot, charged by water and able to detect sadness from students. it was probably why he had approached seren to begin with, pulling at her leg with his small hands.

he let out a happy beep as he waved at her, his eyes as pleasant and polite as always. “ i wasn’t sad, you know, i was just thinking ”, she said, crouching to his level. he stared at her, blinking for a couple of seconds with a disapproving sound. “ what, don’t believe me? ”. and then it clicked. “ oh, you got upgraded, didn’t you? ”.

ted hardly got any enhancements done to his figure, as he didn’t really have any flaws and his feedback from the students was always exemplar. but this time around, it was useful. because the upgrade enabled him to tell whether people were lying or not and it worked well during exam season where many would be asked whether they cheated or not.

seren let out a minor chuckle and shook her head, “ well there’s no point lying to you. but you never tell anyone, so i suppose it’s fine. ” she patted the top of his smooth head and then stood, holding iron thorn to her and then tucking it back into its sheath. “ care to get some fresh air? ”. on a happy note, seren left the chamber, ted hovering after her.

the halls of valhalla would usually be empty after classes were over, most students tended to flee outside and look for something fun to do, which was mostly seen in throwing frisbees, playing chess, going sunbathing. some returned to the lounge and played games or watched movies. others returned to their dorms to rest, and a small percentage fled to the library for some extra time studying.

a part of seren was almost glad that there weren’t many people to see her tired state. ted had offered her a mirror through his digital face and she was quick enough to adjust her cotton candy hair and adjust the blue bow pushing the locks of her hair back. she was boiling under this training gear, but she would be out of it sooner as her lesson was cut short, but it was clear she was going to owe her father an apology afterwards for her wandering mind. little things upset her father, but what majorly puts him off is when seren is not focused. it was the reason for most of their arguments and disagreements.

the dorms were in the lower parts of valhalla though the girl took a small detour outside to catch her breath. in the midst of a sunny afternoon, the sky was beginning to turn into hues of pink, purples and oranges as the sun thought about setting. the wind batting against her skin was all that she needed, especially as she neared to the open air yards with artificial grass, smooth concrete paths leading students around the perimeter of the entire yard that seemed to go on for miles and miles. some benches and picnic tables were scattered, mostly occupied by first years who wanted to catch up after their lessons.

seren hardly steps outside, held inside by her tasks, but stepping outside was a freeing sensation, her arms folded and rested against the balcony railings, the wind was best from where she stood and she could have stood there for hours if she didn’t keep telling herself to return to her dorm and get as much rest as she could.

out of everything that caught seren’s attention, a game of football stole it in the end. most of the boys tended to be relatively active and sporty, that was a given as they had to be active if they wanted to carry heaven guns or broadswords with them in battle. seren became immersed in it for a moment, not the type of person to find kicking a ball around for ninety minutes particularly interesting but this time around, she couldn’t really help it.

what mostly caught her attention was one of the boys playing, and as far as she was concerned, she knew who he was. not the person to read the ranks too deeply, seren would only glance at the names and the pictures and this one was one she recognized. kailen cassius, rank number six, an archer. perhaps the most remarkable thing about him, however, what his height.

he had an air to him, though, that of someone who could handle things himself but also relied on teamwork and seemed to be about unity and working things out in a more collective fashion rather than being selfish all the time. he seemed like a good person, she thought. someone she’d definitely befriend and would be able to trust when faced with danger, but being alone didn’t permit her to join any teams. her father said that the only time she’d ever really join her peers in something of the sort was if she served as a tutor.

seeing as how so many of the students were set into groups, she wandered whether being in one would ensure that she would leave and tread beyond the walls, but she doubted anyone would really want to be in a team with her unless if they wanted extra credit or wanted to dump all the work onto her. and since seren wasn’t one to say no to people so easily, she might have to deal with being the one carrying all the work since she had the skills and smile as everyone got the best results despite having done nothing. it happened once in her primary school, and it was what shaped her into the timid, goody-two-shoes of a person that she is.

but say if she were to tutor a group. she’s seen third-year students do it mostly with second-year students who needed some help, but it would work and be the only time where seren might be able to use her position to get what she wants. it might make her father trust her just a tiny bit more, but she never knew exactly when it came to arthur armsend, he wasn’t one to be pleased so easily.

still, she was willing to give it a go.

when ted suddenly beeped, seren was drawn out of her thoughts once more only to realize that she had potentially been staring at kailen based on the way that well, he was looking right back at her. she had totally zoned out and had not managed to snap out of it when she felt the confused gaze of the boy on her. thank god for ted, otherwise she would have made much more of a fool of herself than she already had.

seren blinked and leaned away from the railings as soon as she began to feel her ears and cheeks burning pink. ted let out a confused noise, “ why didn’t you snap me out of it as soon as i started staring? ”. the robot tilted his head to the side with a level of confusion. “ he probably thinks i’m a total weirdo now! ”.

when ted let out an apologetic sound, seren sighed and risked a look back at the boy who had returned to his game, seeming more carefree but not before their eyes locked for a moment and she felt a wave of realization.

seren is hardly one to have an epiphany, but what she will tell you is that the feeling cannot easily be described. connecting the dots, her blank expression was replaced by that of surprise as her eyes grew in size and her pursed lips parted only for her to turn on her heel and start pacing quickly back inside, ted following in suit with some confused beeps.

the top six students are all third-years, and although the top student was often taken out of lessons to engage in more practical work outside of valhalla, that still left five people who were very capable of what she had in mind. she thought the tutoring idea would be pointless, but after her thoughts rang in that training chamber, after she stepped outside and looked towards the walls, after realizing that the world might end up caving in on itself if nothing was done, after such an epiphany, she couldn’t possibly sit there and do nothing.

seren knew her father would never let her out to do something like this on her own, but she knew she could perhaps impose an idea he could not deny. he wanted a daughter that would make changes, and after the death of one possible heir and the marriage of another, the fate settled on seren when she did not wish for it. but she could not change this about herself. but she knew that if good results came out of this, if her epiphany was right and she had perhaps hit the gold mine, that the world would somehow improve. and that was something she was taught from a young age.

her mother left when she was eight but the moral lessons stuck with her for ten years and it is probably why her thirst for knowledge of the outside world and the drive to better things was not leaving her anytime soon. the action of doing good things was deeply embedded into her, perhaps it was a genetic thing or the way her mother shortly raised her. she was a rebel without a cause, a woman who ventured out and never cared for the warnings she got or the many injuries she returned with. because at least she was helping. 

so perhaps it was time to start being a little selfish on her end. seren knew her father wouldn’t be in the best of moods after their lesson that afternoon, yet her blood remained boiling, adrenaline causing her heart to race after and her steps to quicken until ted stopped following her and let her run off on her own.

her father’s office was at the top floor, and after a long elevator ride to the top, seren stumbled into the room.

the porcelain tiles she stepped in were drawn with art she had never quite been able to name before. perhaps it was a renaissance-style painting, what with the figures and halos and clouds. every time she entered her father’s room, it felt like entering a museum. he was an archaic man with older, more traditional principles despite being inclusive. but he was one to separate his inclusiveness from his professional way of working, because no matter what you were, he still extended a hero out of you.

the mahogany desk was usually empty as he would have meetings on a friday evening but she had caught him seemingly before he could prepare for said meeting. he seemed to have turned on his record player, appearing blissful whilst listening to an opera piece seren has heard all too many times. the china cup in his gloved hands saw steam rising from what seemed to be his usual chamomile tea. three cubes of sugar, no less. 

the minor ding of the elevator made him raise his head when seren approached his desk. he paid her a mere glance, raising a brow. “ why are you not changed? i thought we’d be having dinner together ”, he stated, blowing the steam from his cup gently. “ don’t waste time, seren. ”

“ i need your permission for something, father. ”

arthur let out a sigh. when seren approaches him with a request as such, he often knows what it will be. permission to head to town for the weekend, permission to continue her tap lessons, permission to head to the beach. almost all of those requests were never really granted for the mere reason that he did not want her attention diverting to something else when so much had to be done. but he seemed to sense something was different, he knew his daughter well known and one thing he was unfamiliar with was the glistening pair of eyes like his wife’s staring back at him.

“ although i may be only seven in the ranks, i feel like . . . i-i feel like i know what i want to do before i graduate ”. she quickly took her seat in one of the chairs facing him across his desk. she took notice of his cane resting on the side and gulped.

days ago, he had mentioned that her older sister had one final act as a valhalla student that marked her as a significant alumni. although she married shortly after, she still made history by being the student who uncovered many lost articles and items in other continents, items rich in cultural value as they carried history of their dying planet. and she had done this before graduating. arthur imposed the idea that seren should do something similar.

seren proceeded, “ might i suggest gathering the top five students and allowing me to tutor them? ”.

“ seren. ”

“ let me finish, p-please! ”.

the girl clasped her hands together and forced a meek gaze down, “ i have all these skills in my arsenal and i highly doubt i’ll ever be able to use them because i can’t apply them to the world outside like the others. but perhaps i can let someone else take the lead for me. i-i could teach them what i’ve been taught and hope that they’ll carry it on, l-like a legacy if they choose to step outside of the walls. ”

arthur put his cup down, clearing his throat. “ is this just a reason for you to step outside? you know what i’m going to say, seren ”, his tone appeared highly disinterested, but she was not going to be discouraged this time around.

“ father . . . you and i both know that we have the people needed to do something about what’s happening to the world outside ”, she inquired, still no response. silence lingered until the apprehension faded. “ you found salem’s whereabouts, did you not? ”.

the principal, although he didn’t appear shocked, gave it all away through the way he dropped his spoon into his cup. he rose his gave with a clenched jaw and peered at her, possibly questioning how she’d come to such a conclusion. but it was no rumor, it was true. the general said the men found one of her scouts spying on them near the ukraine, meaning she couldn’t be too far. five years of hunting salem after her escape, only to finally discover the continent she hid in.

“ seren, listen to me closely ”, he warned, leaning over his desk slightly with a grave tone. “ i understand you wish to be a hero. but you will not be the hero who died trying to kill the witch that brought the world to its end. no daughter of mine will do something of the sort. ”

seren continued to fight back, “ but i won’t be the one doing it, it’ll be five qualified people doing it on my behalf because i taught them what other teachers do not. ”

“ seren. ”

“ and you act as if the years of training has been for no reason. what, am i just going to have these skills at my disposal and never use them? did i just waste nearly sixteen years of my life being taught something in case there’s a war? ”, she spat. she had never spoken to her father like this, and in a dark corner of her mostly innocent mind, she was enjoying it. she felt like her mother. “ father, there will be a war regardless. especially if we stick around doing nothing about the clear danger. i’m going to have to use these skills but i could also use them to prevent it all. ”

the man grew quiet. somewhere in his mind, he probably felt something similar. she had heard the stories, her father wanted to be the valiant one in his family to carry the armsend name, but he was the one who deeply injured himself to the point where he had to give up his heroic hopes and let it become mere fable. he didn’t want the same thing happening to seren, but he knew that this time, matters would be different. she would have help.

and sending your kid into a world that is unknown to even the smartest men in the world was a horrifying thought, but it is in like every tale, the one holding the hero back will always have to let them go. that is how the best heroes are made, the ones who were given the chance to chase after their happy ending, not he ones ho were held back. what good is a sheltered hero?

besides, she might end up finding the worthy opponent she had always dreamed of meeting. and if it was salem, so be it. call her reckless or obsessed with heroism, but seren knew she wouldn’t be able to stay within these walls for much longer.

her father knew this as well, even if it was clear he didn’t want to.

“ are you certain about this, seren? ”.

no, she wanted to say. she had hardly given any logic aside from her own hopes and expectations which could be mistaken as mere childish fantasy and desperation to be outside, but it is better not to ask her how she knew it would work out. she just knew.

“ yes ”, the girl breathed and bit her lip slightly. “ i think mother would have wanted to me to do this. i’m an explorer just like her, father. you know that very well. ”

arthur chortled, glancing bitterly at his cup of tea. “ i wish you weren’t. i wish you were more like your older sister, at least you’d stay out of trouble. but you’re the only heir. after ophelia, i’m highly uncertain that there’ll be anyone else ”, he spoke. she felt her blood run cold. but when he looked up at her, he grunted. “ but you don’t have a single cowardly bone in your body. you’re not like isabella and not like me. you’re an explorer, as you’ve stated. ”

“ father . . . ”.

arthur rose a hand and stood, cup in hand and cane in another. he brought himself up from his chair and moved steadily towards the tinted windows, peering outside into a twilight sky. “ you ask a lot of me, seren. not only might i lose my daughter, but i might also lose five innocent lives if all of this goes wrong. and i will not let it be for your fantasy and mere childish heroism. and yet, a part of me knows that soon, salem is going to find a way to harm everyone . . .”

the indecisiveness from the man was making the girl think much more deeply about the matter than she was intending. if someone got hurt, it would be her fault mainly for putting them in danger, but that was why she planned on training them. they were capable fighters, whoever they were. it was a matter of luck and precision, two opposing forces that might have to work together to make all of this work.

“ seren. ”

the girl lifted her gaze to see the man she so dearly admired and loved, the father who was a professor as well as a friend and a leader. she loved him so dearly that she would not think to ask something like this unless if she one hundred percent meant it. and she did.

“ if you can convince them to join you, i will grant your request. but be weary of the time, because it has become of the essence.”

and so, her adventure begins.

[hellopastelpukepink]

hey! love your work, any chance you could write some more brutal stuff with either michael myers or amanda young? fluff and smut is lovely and all but i like the violence 💙

Violence encompasses so many things that I wasn’t sure which direction to take this, like, did you want non-con, Guro, straight-up murder, BDSM? I decided to “play it safe” and do some kidnapping and dub-con. I felt Amanda would be suitable for this because of the gritty industrial locations in the SAW franchise as well as the stark brutality of the murders. Anyway, here we go! ---

               Your heart was racing at an unbearable speed, your breaths ragged as you watched the screen before you with that accursed puppet staring back at you with those black eyes and red irises.

               “Hello, I would like to play a game.”

               You let out a scream, trying to break free from your bindings but your wrists were cuffed, your legs were as well, you glanced around frantically realizing you were on a modern-day stretching rack. You didn’t even hear what Billy was telling you as you panicked, screaming for help, thrashing against your restraints. Then the video shut off and a blaring red counter beeped, you hadn’t listened to the instructions, and the game had begun.

               Gears begin to screech and slowly turn, and with them your limbs began to get pulled.

               “NO!! SOMEONE HELP ME!!” You screamed as hard as you could. You noticed a figure slowly step forward, it wore a hooded crimson cloak and a severed pig mask to conceal their face. “PLEASE! PLEASE HELP ME!!” You cried.

               The figure folded their arms and continued to watch. There was a blade in their hand, and you realized to your dismay that standing before you, was the copycat killer.

               The gears screeched again, turning so slowly, pulling you even more and tears ran down your face, and you choked back cries of fear.

               The figure strode closer, tracing its blade against your skin. The sadistic bastard!

               “It’s a shame,” It spoke, a female voice, “Such a waste.”

               The gears creaked and then came the pain, you were finally being stretched to your limits. You let out the most horrifying scream yet, “PLEASE!!” You continued to cry.

               “Please?” The masked female said. Pulling the blade down your midriff, drawing thin rivulets of blood in its wake. The gears creaked again, and you howled, feeling tendons stretching, bones shifting out of place, another turn and everything was going to break. “You’re willing to do anything?”

               “ANYTHING! PLEASE! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!!” You sobbed.

               The pig-masked figure moved quickly, and you heard the machine power down, and with it you exhaled relief, still crying. The female moved to unshackle you, and you fell to the cold concrete floor, shuddering in a fetal position.

               “Did I say we were done?” The figure asked, menacingly. You stared up into the dark eyes of that horrifying mask.

               “Please, have mercy.” You begged.

               “On your knees.”

               You faltered for a moment and the female before you screamed, commanding you to obey. Shaking you rose to your knees and stared at her, feeling so vulnerable before her.

               “Good girl.” She patted your head with a gloved hand and moved for a table you hadn’t noticed before. It was right behind the horrible machine you’d been strapped to, just out of your line of vision when you’d been strapped down.

               The figure came back with a metal collar attached to a long, heavy chain. She collared you quickly and had it set.

               “If you leave this room, the sensor on this collar will set off, and you’ll be electrocuted to death.”

               You sniffled, sweat glistening off your skin, it felt like a film all over you, absolutely disgusting.

               “Let’s see what that pretty mouth can do, shall we?” She said.

               “What?”

               She pulled back her robes a little to reveal a miniskirt and thigh high stockings. You stared, dumbfounded, she wasn’t wearing any panties.

               “Get to work, slave.” She demanded.

               You stared up at her mask, feeling like you hadn’t heard her clearly.

               “Oh, I see, you want back on the trap, don’t you?” With her combat boots, she kicked hard into your stomach, and you keeled over. “You really going to embarrass me like that, slave?” She asked, words dripping venom.

               You cowered before her as she raised her boot directly over your face.

               “WAIT! I’m sorry mistress!!” You pleaded, slowly rising up. Her knife was back at your throat.

               “No more second chances, slave. Understood?”

               “Yes, mistress.” She moved away from you, and you rose up and brought your mouth to the junction between her legs, extending your tongue to taste her. You went slow and listened to her sighs above you.

               “Good girl,” She moaned, her voice soft and feminine. Her gloved hand wrapped tightly in your hair, pulling closer, you made a little sound from the pain but dared not to stop your ministrations on her. Your warm tongue rolled over her clit, sucking and giving teasing strokes against it. “That’s it, good girl, just like that.” Both her hands were entwined in your hair, the knife in her hand too close for comfort now. She moved against you, and you continued, letting out little moans as you felt her arousal cover your face. “I’m so close.” She breathed.

               You continued your work, bobbing your head and licking, tongue darting quickly against her sensitive spot. You brought a hand up and wormed your fingers into her sex, catching her by surprise. With finesse, you began to finger her as you continued to lick in pleasing circles all along her pussy.

               She sighed, breath escaping in ragged gasps as she came, you felt her warm walls contracting against your fingers. It took her a moment to catch her bearings before she pulled you away, tossing the knife aside, it clanged and skidded against the concrete floor.

               Then she did something unexpected, she pulled off her mask. You were surprised to see a beautiful brunette with green eyes staring down at you. She got down on her knees and pressed her lips against yours, tasting her essence on your lips. You kissed back out of fear of angering her again.

               “You did so well.” She commended. “Good little pet.”

               She buttoned up her robe and began to walk away.

               “Wait. Will you let me go?”

               She laughed, opening the sliding metal door to this room.

               “Why would I want to free my favorite little pet?” She asked, exiting the room and slamming the door behind her leaving you in the cold, dimly lit room.

               You allowed more tears to fall, cowering on the ground. You’d survived Jigsaw’s apprentice but at what cost?

[powerturtlesaskblog]

I an’t doing just shitposts on this blog so here are what the characters are like in the Au:

Hero's in the Au:

Raph:

Super hero name: Ice Snapper

Powers:

•Ice and Snow powers (Ya know. Like Elsa from Frozen?)

Super suit: his Red Regen Costume but instead of being red and black it is blue and black and the matching hockey mask is now ice blue with fluffy grey wolf ears on it

Donnie:

Super hero name: Dark Pancake

Powers:

•Super strength

•Green lantern powers (except being green it appears purple)

•Whirlwind powers (he can summon a whirlwind at will he usually uses them to fly but he can lift up or smack around any object he wants and you can tell that Dark pancake has created the whirlwind because the whirlwinds Dark pancake make glow purple and Dark pancake has glowing purple wings that show when he's using this power and go away when he stops using this power/uses a different power)

.He can change from his normal form to a un-mutated baby pancake turtle (with big ass eyebrows)

. Dark pancake can shoot lasers from his eyes (so when he uses his eye lasers he pushes his goggles onto his snout)

Original super suit: a purple full body suit (it does not show the fingers or feet tho-) that going from the fingers to Donnie's elbow it is black he has black boots that go up to the knee on the chest of the suit is a white upside down triangle with a yellow arrow pointing both ways Donnie also has a black choker with a purple and black moon on it and Donnie now wears his goggles over his eyes almost 24/7

The first suit update: the suit is the same but it now no longer has sleeves and Donnie now has black finger-less gloves instead of the black glove like markings on the sleeves

The second suit update/currant suit: The suit no longer has the marking that was on the chest and it is no-longer a 'full body' suit the top part of the suit is now a shirt and Donnie has black pants replacing the lower part of the suit and the shirt part of the suit has sleeves again but shows his shoulders but nothing else changed from the last suit change

Notice: Donnie is literally blind when in Dark Pancake form when he's not wearing his goggles so  Dark pancakes eye-laser aim might end up being off-

Leo:

Super hero name: Day slider

Powers:

•Super speed

•Fire powers

•Water powers

.Super strength (but Day Sliders super strength only comes out/activates in a life or death situation)

Original super suit: almost the same as Donnie's but Blue and White and Leo has a white choker with a blue and white sun and Leo does not have a bandanna he now just wears a blue scarf over his mouth

First suit update/current suit: the suit is now almost COMPLETELY different Leo still has the scarf over his mouth and still does not have his bandanna but that's all of the old suit that's left the rest of Leo's super suit now is his rockstar outfit but in darker shade's and with a black torn up cape

Mikey:

Super hero name: Box Ranger

Powers:

•Can talk to box turtles

•Can pshycicly control a silver laso

•Can turn into a giant box turtle monster when Angry (Hulk smash-)

Super suit: a cowboy suit with a red feather crown

April:

Super hero name: Boss Queen

Powers: None.

Super suit: a wonderwoman suit but with a giant crown that says Boss Queen on it

Splinter:

Super hero name: Fart Rat

Powers:

•Can fly by farting

Super suit: a super man suit but instead of S on it FR is on it

Villain's in the Au:

Meat Sweats:

Super Villain name: The-Pig-Ta-Pus

Powers:

.his normal powers

.can fart twisters

Super suit/body changes: he looks the same except he's got octopus tenticals for legs

Warren Stone:

Super Villain name: Mega Worm

Powers: HE CaN sHOOT lAzieR's fRoM hIS eYEbALLs LiKe DaRk-PaNcAkE cAn

Super suit/body changes: he's now in his "more muscular" form like he was in the ep: "Newsworthy" and he's got legs now (and yes he's wearing pants-) and he has a cape that is a towel and it has a very crappy drawn on "WS" on it

Mrs Cuddles:

Super villain name: The Masked Rabbit

Powers:

.She still gets bigger if you scream (the bigger she is the stronger her other power is) but smaller if you giggle (her other power goes back to it's default strength if she's back to her normal size)

.She has a silver magic flute that is indestructible and if she plays a special song the nearest person listening becomes a puppet to her (Like the infected user can see everything going on but The masked rabbit controls their movements) until the song is played in reverse at default strength using her flute she can only control one person at a time but if she gets bigger/her powers get stronger the more people she can control at a time because if she gets bigger/her powers get stronger the song becomes louder

Super suit/body changes: Mrs cuddles now just wears a golden mask over her eyes and a princess tiara