#bags under his eyes so deep it’s like he’s a skeleton

[maskyartist]

No one understands the intricacies of Ozpin starting out as headmaster and huntsman and one of Ozma’s younger souls and lives as being extremely skinny and overworked, only to get not only fatter but happier and more relaxed as life goes on because he learns to rely on the people around him and trust in uncertainty and enjoy life’s little things while he still can before he can’t remember them at all like PLEASE UNDERSTAND THE INTRICACIES-

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Male Yandere Human-like Golem x Gender Neutral Human Reader (CW: Noncon, huge dick, golem man, magic, fatal violence towards bandits, spit used as lube, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 1.8k (Sorry this took forever, was originally going to be a drabble and then kinda got away from me, hope you all enjoy huge dick golem man.)

The small town that you lived in, Somnheim, had been victim to a swathe of horrible luck. Raided by bandits, packs of beasts killing livestock, and enemy soldiers scavenging what they could. Finally the town had enough and sent for a practitioner of the magic arts to aid them in the defense of their village.

This was you.

They didn’t have much but they offered a home and food for your services. You figured you could help them and have a quiet place to conduct your research away from the prying eyes of the council, who liked to hold newer mages under their thumb. It would also just be something nice you could do for your fellow humans, and these folks clearly needed the help.

You didn’t want to stay in this place forever though, so your solution would have to be one that would last long after you were gone.

Given your expertise in summoning and animating the logical choice was a good, old fashioned, golem. A pentagram, some select incense, clay flesh molded to a slate skeleton and imbued with an amethyst heart carrying an artificial soul, some runes carved in, and a scroll inserted that would have him follow his purpose and give him personality.

Then just add in a spell that turned the humanoid clay man into something more human so as not to frighten the villagers too badly and make him able to experience a near human existence.

The ritual was a complete success. Of course it was. You were you after all, young but talented and more importantly utterly dedicated to your craft.

Somnheim now had a mighty protector. An artificial man over 9 feet tall, with huge bulging muscles, shaggy brown hair, stoic brown eyes that gave nothing away, and glowing green runes on his arms and legs. The spell that made him human-like was more than just visual, it gave him nearly all the functions of a human male, he’d be as durable and strong as the hardest metal, never age, and of course he was certainly infertile.

Not one for creative names, you named him Slate.

Eventually bandits came by and decided they would stock up in Somnheim before going on to bigger and better loot.

They did not live to regret that decision.

Slate simply rolled a massive boulder down the hill they approached from and flattened all but a couple. Those he took care of quickly with magically precise throws of average sized stones.

Over the months any threat he couldn’t flatten with a boulder or smack with a stone he would pop open with his mighty fists.

By the end of his first year as the village’s guardian he was beloved by every single townsperson. Even the tiny children, who would climb on him and put flowers in his shaggy hair as he smiled and watched, had no fear of him.

You had enjoyed your time there, but eventually it was time for a change of scenery. You wanted to do more field research and you had saved enough money up with side projects to be able to fund a trip to the other side of the country near The Great Forest.

The villagers were grateful and sad to see you go, but they were much more interested in Slate than you.

But when you packed your bags to leave behind your wattle and daub dwelling once and for all you found yourself blocked by Slate.

He uttered one word in that deep, almost monotone, voice of his.

“No.”

“What do you mean no? I have to leave.” You tried to squeeze past him but he was not having it.

“I must protect the village… Your presence here makes the village safer… I might need repairs… or reinforcements… And you also tasked me with keeping you safe…”

You fudged the wording. You, breather of life into stone, weaver of clay, and creator of souls, messed up the wording.

He picked you up like a box of luggage and sat you on a chair in your makeshift study before going over to the heaviest bookshelf, picking it up, and placing it in front of the only door so you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll move it when I need to leave… then I will put a rock outside to keep you here…”

And that became your life. A literal prisoner in your own home.

Your magical abilities were useless in this situation, you were not a battlemage that could explode a wall, you couldn’t teleport, you bent earth.

Of course you tried to tunnel your way out by making a hole under your bed, but Slate had walked in and caught you red handed. He had confiscated and locked away all your magical supplies and texts unless you needed them to repair him you were not getting them back.

Slate was tentative enough of your physical needs, bringing you food and water and taking you outside like some sort of pet for sunlight, fresh air, and exercise. You had tried to run away but of course he had inhuman speed. And the villagers refused to help. What if Slate refused to save them if they did that?

It was a fair concern, he was made to protect the village and not villagers, he may even see them as a threat if they assisted you. You were on your own.

Though you were healthy enough physically your mental condition was deteriorating rapidly. How could you not be? Being trapped in the same building, even with trips outside, was awful. The villagers only looked at you with pity if they looked at you at all, and no one would even talk to you anymore.

It got to the point where you barely eat, refused to go outside, and spent all your time laying in bed.

Slate was failing the magical directives that governed his personality and behavior. You were clearly not safe, he was convinced that you would die if this continued, and honestly you likely would… eventually…

But the golem was not incapable of learning. He observed the other humans to find out what he could add to your life to bring you back to your usual self.

One night, when he was sitting in front of the house watching the humans passing by and holding hands, he came to the conclusion that humans had families, they lived together in their dwellings and they loved each other. They coupled together and mated.

Up until this point Slate had only been directed by simple emotion and the unyielding parchment that had imbued him with his goals. But now his task demanded something more of him, it demanded a much more complex emotion. The magic in him allowed this evolution, and now he was much more dangerous because he loved you. But it wasn’t just love he felt for the first time, it was lust.

Slate’s expression became one of someone thinking about the one who they adored infinitely, an expression of a man thinking about the person he wanted to have writhing in pleasure beneath him, even his normally green runes and brown eyes took on an amorous pink glow.

When you heard the boulder blocking the door shift and then heard the bookshelf take its place as what was blocking your way out as Slate came lumbering in with his heavy steps you didn’t even glance up.

Not until he stood in front of you and you noticed his strange pink glow replacing his green one did you stir.

You sat up in bed and when you saw the strange way his normally near emotionless eyes were staring at you, and glowing, you scooted away.

“I know what you need now! I am so sorry for not realizing sooner…” He said in a surprisingly soothing tone, a stark departure from his normally deep monotone.

“What do yo-”

Your words were forgotten as he took off his shirt and pants revealing a sweaty body and a frighteningly large cock.

“You need a partner to be happy, like the other humans, and you need to mate!”

He sounded very eager.

“No! Uh… I don’t need to… mate. I need to lea-” he put a large finger over your lips and shushed you before gripping your pants and peeling them and your underwear away from you carefully.

There was no dissuading him from his chosen course of action, he would make you happy and keep you safe no matter what!

It’s what you needed.

Slate leaned forward and spit all over your hole, thoroughly lubing it with his spit, before pressing his big cock into your hole.

It was so large that you let out a whimper of pain at first, but he was somehow knowledgeable enough about sex to know he needed to let you adjust to the size rather than just ramming himself in.

You gasped and writhed but he held you still with his massive hands running up and down your sides as he slowly pulled you down on his prick.

Slate was in complete heaven, he had never really known much pleasure of any kind, let alone the type that came with burying his cock in someone he was now completely obsessed with.

He had no idea his dick could be used for this at all, but now that he did he would certainly be doing this everyday, maybe even a couple times a day! The perfect blend of heat and softness was amazing.

As he began to thrust slowly, with a blissed out expression as he stared up at nothing with drool coming out of his mouth, you couldn’t help but moan in pleasure as his cock caressed your depths perfectly.

Hearing your breathy moans snapped him back to reality. You were finally happy again~

The treatment was working! That settled it, he would do this every single day no matter what!

Carefully gripping your sides a bit more firmly he moved your entire body back and forth on his cock. You couldn’t help it, your whole body twitched with the force of a massive orgasm. The sensation of your body spasming around his previously virgin dick caused him to slam in deep and cum hard.

He pulled you close, holding your head into his muscular chest as he panted, his dick still firmly impaling your limp body. You hadn’t been eating much and this serious fucking had taken a lot out of you.

Slate cleaned the two of you up, bathing you gently before taking advantage of your compliant state by spoon feeding you some dinner he had brought from a town person.

Mating with you made you so pleasured and too tired to resist him when he took care of you, he almost couldn’t wait until you had enough energy to do it again, his cock strained in his pants with anticipation.

[ornii]

Bitterly Beautiful: Family Ties

Ireland

(Y/n) and Wednesday, a love story as old as time. Winter break had finally reached Nevermore and (Y/n) made a suggestion, to visit Ireland and for his bride to meet his family. Wednesday being the old fashion woman she is, she couldn’t say no.

A massive old ship sailed across the sea, being piloted by not humans but beings that ceased to exist, skeletons. All remains of pirates once plundering the seas for their fill now in service to the Healy name. Wednesday found this most fascinating, her eyes dance along the deck of the ship as she stands with (Y/n), he points to the Captian moving the ship with the wheel.

“You see the Captian and his crew died to a kraken if you could believe it. Tore their ship from the sea to the bottom of the ocean.” He explained, and Wednesday stared at their moving bones, flesh barely visible under the ragged clothes. “Fascinating.. Rigor mortis obviously has set in but their bodies seem to reject the stiffness.”

“Is that all you got from my story?” He replied.

“It’s all that I care to listen to.” She responded. A small laugh came from (Y/n). “I love you too Wednesday.” He steps forward with his cane and she follows. “My family is a bit more.. bombastic than yours.” He started, “So it might be a bit.. uncomfortable at first but they mean well..”

“As long as they don’t touch me, all will be well.” Her response was expected, but not particularly hated either. (Y/n) inhaled and turned around to the front of the ship.

“We’re here, the Rock of Cashel.” Wednesday turned as well, her eyes gazing upon a massive castle of limestone and rock. “It’s.. impressive.” She said, and he stepped up next to her. “Nice Family heirloom which I’ll eventually take over, I can give you the tour when we dock.. but I think my family wants to at least say hello because you recluse yourself.” He replied. Wednesday slightly pouts but goes with it. Docking at the waters near the castle, now more monsters. Oddly short human like people. They carted and carried their bags and belongings into the castle as (Y/n) and Wednesday sit and ride carriage upwards to the castle.

“Leprechauns?” She asked.

“Nope, Puca. Little known monsters here.” He responded, “They can transform into animals, sly little things.” (Y/n) leaned forward and looked in the direction of Wednesday.

“Admittedly, I didn’t expect you to say yes to visiting my family. Especially since it’s in a castle in a completely different continent.” He cracked a smile, but Wednesday kept a calm demeanor. “You handled my family exceptionally well, even with their.. issues. It’s only fair that I do the same for you.” She explained, she could see the gears turning in (Y/n)’s head as she says this, something was hidden under his smile but he kept it.

The duo arrive at the gate of the castle, which slowly opens the heavy wooden doors. The large hefty foyer looks right out of the 13th century. Paintings of battles of gods and men, marble statues of men and women chiseled. Tapestry of the Bloodline in perfect etching detail, all of it truly felt otherworldly.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” He said, Wednesday’s eyes scanned along the walls. “Admittedly it is.. do you have torture chamber as well?”

“That’s…” he started to speak but the sudden boom of footsteps approaching halted his speech, Wednesday and (Y/n) turned to the origin of the sound, the deep dark hallway which was lit barely but the encroaching flames of torches, Wednesday watches as a massive Fomorian titan stormed out of the hall. She took a step back and was prepared to run or fight. She looks to (Y/n) who wasn’t particularly changed by the presence.

“(Y/n) if you couldn’t hear there’s a towering monster before us!” She gripped his wrist and he tilts his head in her direction.

“I know, and it isn’t funny Aunt.” He said, the monster groans and pouts.

“I just wanted to see if the lass was as ice cold as you always said she was.” The monsters voice was booming, but also a feminine tone. Her body began to transform, bones shrinking, skin changing and hair growing, Wednesday was baffled and somehow amazed to watch the human body transform. A burly woman stood before her, hefty red hair and a strong jawline but a porcelain face. Her dress was a deep blue and hefty dress with a wolf fur coat around the neckline.

“Pale little thing isn’t she?” The woman leaned in, her lively emerald green eyes collided with Wednesdays cold and emotionally dead dark black eyes. “She isn’t pale she’s just.. you know.” (Y/n) mumbled, the woman offers a firm handshake, taking Wednesdays had without her say and shaking it strongly, Wednesday was taken aback by her terrifyingly firm grasp but soft skin. “Right, no sunlight.” Wednesday stepped back to avoid being hugged and crushed by the woman. “Wednesday, this is Aunt Dian.” (Y/n) steps in between them.

Wednesday stared at the woman, not able to form an accurate response to what she’s seeing. “Yes.. indeed.” Wednesday replied, and Dian turned around, “Alright! Now to your chambers, and you two won’t be sharing a room. Show her the way.” She eyes (Y/n) who acts as if he isn’t paying attention. The woman casually strolls away as the two head deeper into the castle.

“Why is she so… large?” Wednesday asked, “Genetics, reincarnation tends to have adverse effects on how your body functions and reforms. Dian was the God of Medicine here.” He tilts slightly to Wednesday, “There’s something I want to show you.” He said, “Much more interesting than a bedchamber.”

The two stroll out the hearty woods past the castle to a forest. A few spots of clearing were there but still surrounded thick trees.

“This place was a battle ground, graveyard I believe. Legend says you can hear the wails of the dead at night though the forest trees.”

“Was that legend created by you?” She ask sarcastically. “I mean… for the most part.” He admits, “I appreciate you not trying to kill my aunt when she shook your hand.” He thanks her, and kept walking forward. Wednesday halted in her footsteps and he turned to her direction.

“I’ll admit it took everything in my power to not succumb to death at her touch. It’s not like I could have escaped her iron grip anyway.” Wednesday adds in, (Y/n) shrugs. “Fair point.. but I’m glad you’re getting along with her, my cousins.. might be a bit more than you can handle.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No, a warning, they’re kids they don’t know any better.” He gently took her hand, sensing her unwary gaze. “Something’s bothering you.. what is it?” He leaned in, Wednesday wanted to speak freely but, it felt like her lips were bound by a spell, and couldn’t form the words to speak.

The sudden pick up of wind cut off their moment, feeling the odd force of air current against them. Leaves spiraled and danced around them. “That’s… not good.”

“Are spinning leaves a bad omen?”

“No, but it’s just weird.” His response was calm, but wary. Wednesday looked around as the leaves rested and something caught her eye. “(Y/n).” She spoke, “There’s.. a body.”

“A..Body?” He turned to her direction and took a hearty step, the echo formed a wave to bounce sound off, and he felt it on the ground. The two slowly walked towards it. They came across a corpse on the ground, still and unmoving. “It feels like a woman..” (Y/n) knelt down with Wednesday.

“Black hair, late teens. She seems to have some sharp object in her hand, but her hand is, oddly stiff.. her body doesn’t look too cold to allow rigor mortis to set in.” Wednesday said, “Do you know her?”

“No, the servants aren’t human…” he reached and touched her neck, feeling a faint but warm pulse. “She’s alive… perhaps she’s sleeping.”

“Sleeping in the woods behind a castle?” Wednesday replied. “Well when you put it that way..” (Y/n) mumbled. “I’ll just wake her up.”

“Are you sure? All circumstances point to this ending very poorly for you.” Wednesday points out, “We help people Wednesday.. would be wrong of me to leave her here, plus you’re overthinking.”

(Y/n) gently placed his fingers on her forehead, his middle and pointer finger poking the center of her brow. “Eirich bhon aisling gun chrìoch” he spoke a spell and the woman’s eyes slowly opened. (Y/n) confidently turned to Wednesday. “See not a problem—“

Before (Y/n) could confidently tell his girlfriend, the strange woman moves with blinding speed, the sharp object rammed straight between his fourth and fifth rib. It was so fast (Y/n) didn’t have time to even react before falling back and gripping the blade, Wednesday blinked and the next thing she knew he was on the ground in pain. Rushing to his side she saw the knife and held it. “Calm down.. panicking makes you loose more blood. Relax and take a deep breath.” Wednesday caressed his forehead, and with a swift motion yanks the blade from his chest. (Y/n) quickly put his hand on his wound to slow the bleeding. The mystery woman wasn’t angry or sad, she was stunned at what she did, her glossy eyes looked over to the two and immediate guilt washed over her.

“Holy.. shit. I am so sorry!” She pleads, Wednesday turns to her with nothing but cold dead hatred. “I should fill your eyes with hot coals for what you’ve done.” Wednesday rarely shows emotion, but what she does it’s intense, and nothing is more intense than hate.

“It’s fine.. I’m.. fine..” (Y/n) sits up, “Just need.. to get home.. okay?” He asked Wednesday, she turned to the girl. “If you truly are sorry then you’ll help us.. after that.. we’ll see.” Wednesday began to help (Y/n) up, and the mystery girl did as well and essentially carried the boy back home.

Wednesday finished the last seam of her sewing the wound shut as (Y/n) bared his chest and lifted his arms up in her room. Sitting at a desk and across from each other the partners were silent, (Y/n) with pain and Wednesday with worry. The mysterious girl was leaning against a wall, fiddling with her fingers and obviously embarrassed.

“Again… I am.. so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, isn’t the first time I’ve been stabbed or shot.” (Y/n) shrugs, “just a new scar that my girlfriend finds pretty hot huh?” He tilts his head to Wednesday, who looks away trying to keep her composure.

“Your stab wasn’t deep enough to puncture the heart thankfully, but you knew how to stab in between the ribs and the right place to land a fatal blow, impressive.” She admits. The girl smiled, even if she was fighting back guilt. “Oh uh, thanks.. my mom taught me a lot, honestly I was scared to death I killed you.. my hair allowed went white, it’s.. black so you would have noticed..” she said, which was a major screw up.

(If you knew why, congrats.)

“Why did you say that?” Wednesday said, the girl raised an eyebrow. “Uh.. what do you mean?” She asked dumbfounded. She slowly stood up, grabbing a pair of scissors.

“You pointed out your hair color as if you knew one of us couldn’t see it…” Wednesday pointed out, which made (Y/n) raise his eyebrow, he slowly turns to the direction of the girl.

“She’s right.. I didn’t have my cane and my glasses are pretty normal.. how did you know I was blind?” He said, and a look of utter panic was on her face.

“You knew who we were, and you attacked..” Wednesday took a step closer.

“I’m sure you have some explanation.. right?” (Y/n) also stood up, and the girl sighed and shook her head.

“Dad’s gonna kill me…” she sighed and looked up at them. “Okay… my name, Is Fall Monday Healy.”

(Y/n)’s face twists to confusion. “.. Who?” He asked in disbelief and Fall gave an awkward and sad smile, “I’m from the future… so.. Hi Mom, Hi Dad.” She looks at them. (Y/n) and Wednesday turn to each other, it seems this break has taken a very interesting turn.

[shotmrmiller]

Got a good one I thought of at work today. (Not a request).

You work at a hardware store and one of the boys walks in, we’ll use ghost so this makes sense. Ghost frequently buys items that scream serial killer. Trash bags, shovels, ropes, rocks of different kinds. On occasion he’ll buy something else, but these are the main items. He starts asking you questions one day and it turns out he does a lot of home repair and gardening. Eventually Ghost asks you out on a group date and he shows you his house and yard and the garden. All completely normal. But what you don’t see are the flesh buried under his garden beds. The corpses he has sunk at the bottom of the super deep pond in his back yard that the fish are eating. You don’t see the skeletons he has stashed and waiting to be ground and tossed into his compost.

You also definitely don’t see what he has hidden at houses he’s worked on that will never be traced back to him. And you sure as hell don’t see what Ghost’s friends are doing to help hide each others tracks.

you also find it kind of strange that he keeps asking you what kind of color rug you think would match the walls of the living room best. or if he should put plants around. if yes, what kind? what do you think of the pretty pond in the backyard? what color couches should he get?

no no. he'll have interior decor magazines lying around, open on very specific pages depending on the room it's in. you've an eye for these things, he knows. he's seen your carefully decorated home.

he also knows that you fuss about your own potted plants like a mother would a child. every morning, you spray water on your little succulents and hanging marble pothos. coo at them in that sweet, kind voice he's grown to love over the months he's been watching you through your own cameras.

he's not disappointed when you spot his fern in some forgotten corner, begging for water and some sun. he does tense, however, when you trip over his carefully placed rug, the corner of it folding. luckily, you're a feisty woman on a mission, your eyes locked on his dying plant, so he quickly foots the rug back into place, the faded stain of crimson no longer in view.

he should really switch out his carpet for easier to clean tile.

[coffeeghoulie]

PLEASE GIVE US DRAG TALK CONTENT

I’m going to post the ten pictures tumblr will allow and then go on a huge ramble under a read more bc goddamn i think this was the best weekend of my life.

Also, fuck tumblr bc I had this whole thing written out (on my phone, nonetheless) and it went poof up in smoke gone. Motherfucker.

I wore jutty’s own shirt to the first night bc I thought I was being funny. He walked past me and a few of my friends after the show, one of whom, Celine, runs the dt discord, and had gift bags for everyone in the band with trinkets from people who made things, myself included. She caught his attention and gave him the bags to distribute, and I was just shaking bc holy shit he just brushed past me in a crowded lounge and my hands were starting to shake (I was surprisingly okay during the show) I got his attention and gave him the bracelet I made for him that said "jutty taylor cyber bully" and he lit up when he I gave it to him and he smiled so fucking big when he noticed what shirt I was wearing.

He told me that he was happy the shirts were "getting new lives" but it still pained him to part with them lmao. I thanked him and explained that it was a "birthday gift" for myself; he did the fundraiser on my actual birthday. As soon as I said that, he pulled me into a side hug and I hit Celine with the biggest "deer in headlights about to be run over please send help" panicked expression lmao. He then proceeded to use my shoulder as an arm rest while he talked with Celine. I normally have an issue with people doing that to me, but I've said "anything for you, mr taylor" and I fucking mean it

I got a picture with him later and bc we were out of the cramped, loud bar, I was able to apologize about rambling in his twitter dms about losing my contact lenses and freaking out over the shirt potentially being lost. I did also get to tell him my name (he knows my legal name for shipping purposes) and told him that I didn't tell him that it was Dot earlier bc my parents and I share a po box and they don't know who Dot is. He turned to me and looked me in the eye and told me that he was very glad the shirt got to me.

When we took the picture, I swear to god, I could feel his stubble against my forehead where he leaned his head against mine and part of me will be on that street corner forever tbh. It's my phone lockscreen and I usually don't like looking at myself but holy fuck its proof it happened

I watched him smoke after the show both nights and ohhhhhhhhhh my god. It is now proven that I can in fact Behave In Public. It was an Ordeal. (you can't blame me, he threw his head back to blow smoke and furrowed his brow in concentration when he lit up. YOU CANT BLAME ME)

I did some touristy shit before the second show and impulsively bought jutty a novelty gift shop shirt to give to him afterwards. I watched him unfold it and just laugh when he saw the design. He thanked me up and down bc he actually needed a shirt and immediately left the group of people waiting to talk to him to put it somewhere he wouldn't lose it.

I am being dead fucking serious rn. I'm pretty much only on tumblr and discord. If a picture of jutty in a dark blue shirt with dinosaur skeletons on it surfaces somewhere online. DO NOT FUCKING TELL OR SHOW ME. I WILL ACTUALLY PHYSICALLY PASS AWAY. I GENUINELY MEAN IT.

Jutty was so nice and gave me a real hug after the second show when my uber was pulling up and I asked kind of quietly for one. He thanked me for coming pretty much in my ear and I just as politely and quickly as I could shoved my face into his collar and took a deep fucking breath and thanked him for everything. (i was also a lil distraught it was over and genuinely needed the hug tbh. i cried in the uber bc i was upset and also bc I was afraid I was being pushy again but I think I was just exhausted, if he didn't want to give me a hug he wouldn't have)

I cannot. CANNOT. even begin to explain how good jutty smells. He smells so fucking good. I think the dt twitter has said what cologne he uses, but once I assess the damage I just did to my bank account with this trip, I will be buying it.

I was able to give Hayden his bracelet after the first show, and he was super sweet and super animated when he talks and he got a little closer to my level (I am v short and it was very loud in that bar). I gave him a condensed version of my airport hell and that this one show had been worth it all, never mind tomorrow's; he seemed surprised people would fly out somewhere they've never been just to see the band. (He was reminded by a friend of mine that Australians flew out for the LA show lmao) But Hayden was super nice and so smiley, I wish I could have watched him play more at the second show but the stage was so small that Ross and the bassist who filled in for Eliot (whose name I'm drawing a blank on rn sorry 😭) stood right in front of him. He put his bracelet on the moment I gave it to him and I stood there shaking like "he likes itttttttt." WAIT SHIT I FORGOT TO SEE IF HE PLAYED WITH SHOES ON OR NOT. FUCK.

The band hung out at a sports bar after the first show, so me and a couple people hung out with Neil and he's super nice and so funny and showed us a peek at the yeti taylor merch that just dropped. He also stuck his head into the Vietnamese place next to the second venue and went "oops wrong door" lol

I didn't get much of a chance to talk to Ross or Matty, but Matty helped me get merch and Ross gave me a high five at the second show. Next time, mark my words, I will have a conversation or two with them, they were both so sweet.

I'm really glad I got to meet everyone who came, too. I got to meet a bunch of people I'd been talking to for months online and we were fucking troopers in line, dealing with the fuckass weather. Worth every second spent in soaked shoes imo. But it was so much fun and I still have to unpack but I am cherishing every little trinket I got.

I was incredibly nervous about being in a city I'd never been to alone, but I would do this trip again in a fucking HEARTBEAT. (i also said something along the lines of "pspspsps mr taylor could you please consider Chicago for next time mayhaps??? 👀👀👀 So Dot doesn't have to deal with flight cancelations and layovers and delays and midnight arrival times????" and he threw his head back and laughed and told me that Chicago is his kind of city so 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞)

[what-have-i-unleashed]

bump in the night

netverse. killer and murder meet each other for the first time. it's... going well?

murder didn't expect his evening to go like this. one moment, he is on his way back to his apartment with his two grocery bags in hands, just past a dark alleyway in a shady neighborhood. and in the next, some humanoid figure in a fur-lined hooded jacket appears in front of him with a glint of something metallic. startled, murder drops his bags and summons his bone attacks, all of them piercing through his surprise assailant. he doesn't think - he just does it.

before he could think about what he just did (oh stars, dream is going to be so disappointed), his attacker grunts out an unimpressed "ow" and just... stays there in the bone maze murder has just conjured.

"ok, you know what? you win, buddy," the hooded stranger drops the knife onto the ground, their body suspiciously lax for such a predicament it's currently in.

now that murder can see the other, he realizes they are also a skeleton monster, judging by the bony hands. but stranger somehow. the first thing that catches his eye is the glowing red target-shaped soul just casually outside of the other skeleton's body. murder can't help staring at it, discomfited over the unnaturalness of it all.

"my eyes are up here, handsome."

murder snaps his gaze to the face under the dark hood, only to see a wide grin directed at him. the streetlights are dim, but he can make out the other skeleton has streaks of some black liquid running down their cheeks.

"heh, shoulda known you're not a normal sans. pretty eyelights you got there," murder can hear the sneer in the other's voice. "guess it's not my lucky day."

stranger and only stranger. curiously, murder runs a quick CHECK.

* KILLER - ATK 9̴̛̳͈̥̉̃̂͘9̴̜͎̣͇̇͆͠9̵̘̻̪́͝ DEF 9̸̧̫̟̅̔́9̴̢̩͎͊̃9̸̧̹̀́ * he's not going anywhere. * it's rude to break someone else's toy.

murder stares at the trapped monster for an indeterminable amount of time before he steps closer and closer.

"you're not the chatty type, huh?" the other rambles on. "is this where you're gonna kill me? better do it quick then."

now standing over killer, murder lifts the hood, revealing what he's already suspected - another sans-type monster, just like him.

killer looks... rough. his jacket - way too big on his body - is dirty with faded blotches of dried blood and a mixture of grime and dust. his wide grin is strained and occasionally twitches at the corner, and his eyes look tired with dark, sunken eye bags under them. the black liquid bubbles in his sockets, steadily dripping onto the ground like tears.

killer looks pathetic, really. reminds murder of someone.

SOMEONE YOU SEE IN THE MIRROR OFTEN, PERHAPS?

murder closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. when he opens them, his eyelights are back to their usual white.

"i'm not killing you."

killer blinks back at him, tilting his head. "not sure if that's a good idea, buddy."

"and i'm not your buddy," murder scowls lightly, then sighs, pinching his nasal. "go to the job center on 24th street and ask for jade. she'll get you to do something for a bit of money. just- stop ambushing people in the dark to steal their belongings. it's not good in the long-term."

killer is silent, before bursting into laughter. "hahaha, you think i'm a mugger?!"

"i don't care what you are," murder dispels the bone attacks trapping killer, but not stupid enough to not prepare his next attacks just in case. "stop bothering me and i'll forget about this."

killer drops down to pick up his knife then slowly stands up. he spins the knife in his hand, whistling, "thanks for this, handsome~"

winking, the black-eyed skeleton disappears in a shortcut. murder stays in the same spot for a bit, making sure no one is nearby before picking up his grocery bags on the pavement and heading back home. he hopes he's not making a mistake with this.

[bruhaintnowway]

I felt like writing soft, low-key, bottom Leon Kennedy so that’s what I did take it or leave it.

Older Leon S. Kennedy x Young Fem Reader

•Fluff

•Smut

You were used to not seeing Leon for long periods of time. In fact, hours would often turn to days which would turn to weeks without seeing your boyfriend. Although you were busy and consumed with all the work you had to do for your final exams, the loneliness hung on your skeleton, weighing you down relentlessly. This had been the longest you had been apart. Stacked on with the fact you knew nothing of him.

Every day the growing fear that a knock would sound at your door and it wouldn’t be Leon but a colleague of his telling you the worst news imaginable, petrified you leaving you with restless nights.

You felt silly sometimes walking around your apartment seeing a shirt of his and hugging it to sleep holding it close to your face for even a fraction of the feeling that he was there.

But today was a different feeling of restlessness today he was coming home. You could practically feel your body vibrating with excitement just at the thought of him being near again. You try to get your mind off the wait typing an essay on your computer for your class but every noise had your head snapping to the door and when nothing appeared a heavy sigh would leave your nose heaving your chest in frustration.

“Fuck,” You mutter tapping your finger on the table.

After an hour with nothing but a sentence on your screen, you sigh heavily closing your computer with a snap and standing stretching your body.

“Any minute now,” You kept repeating in your head and under your breath as you tried to fill the time with busy work to keep your head distracted. Picking up any paperwork discarded from past projects.

The sudden knock on your apartment door echos in your head and your heart thumps in your chest. You spin on your heel as the doorknob turns on its own and there he stands.

It was always heartbreaking to see Leon after a mission he was covered in dirt and sweat, there were dark splatters across his clothes that you choose to ignore although you knew the look of dried blood when you saw it. His hair was messy and unwashed the need for a shower was completely apparent.

He offered you a smile but it was weak his eyes looked tired the eye bags darker than the last time you saw him the blue dulled and you sigh finding yourself running to him and hugging him tightly.

“What took you so long?” You mumbled softly, burying your face in his neck.

A low chuckle escaped him and suddenly everything aligned again his voice soothing you instantly.

“Got caught up with something.” He joked back, hugging you tightly. His face is in your hair taking a deep breath of your scent.

“Want to clean up?” You say, a small smile on your lips he nodded slowly. The sweat and grime of his mission burned your nose but you laughed at his slow nod. You pull him in shutting the door behind him. Although you burned with excitement first thing was first.

You pull him into the bathroom pulling back the curtain and filling the tub with warm water. You look back at him as he shrugged his clothes off. The clear routine that happened whenever he came back home of heading to clean himself off before anything. You see how tense he is and you sigh pouring scented oils and salts hoping it would relax him for even a moment.

“Come on now,” He nods at your words tiredly and walks over to you leans down, and plans a soft kiss on your cheek.

You smile at the soft affection and help him, a low groan of approval escapes his lips as he sinks into the water you laugh a bit.

“Feels good right?” You laugh softly he looks up at you lazily a small smile on his face as his calloused hand cups your face you lean into the touch for a moment taking him in.

“Welcome home,” You mumble softly into his hand as you kiss the palm. Another low laugh escapes his lips as he sinks into the water. You laugh at this motion and your hands move to his shoulders your thumbs working the tension on his back and he whined a bit relaxing into your touch.

“You’re an angel,” Leon whispered softly tilting his head back to look up at you. You smile your hands tracing scars on his back as you worked on what you could.

“I missed, you.” You say gently kissing his back where the scars had faded, frowning a bit at the new inclusions but you don’t say a word about them. You massage shampoo into his hair gently another soft groan of approval leaves his body and you smile.

“I missed you too,” He mumbled back. You were silent, enjoying the peaceful moment as you scrubbed away any dirt from his body and hair. Your hands moved gently over his skin as you coddled him.

He sighed happily, he never asked for affection it was a little fault of his. Leon saw it as asking for help but you knew better even though he was older you couldn’t help it. He would never find himself pulling away when you ran your fingers through his hair gently or helped him get dressed in the mornings when you could. When he finally felt clean enough to you, you help him stand offering a soft towel which he smiles at.

“You baby me too much.” He chuckles. You laugh a bit as you work on picking up the soiled clothes tossing them into the hamper and draining the water from the tub.

“Are old men always this grumpy?” You tease. He laughs relaxing a bit more as he dressed in clean clothes and walked over to you hands on your hips pulling you in for that much-wanted kiss.

“I missed you so much,” He whispered softly you smiled your arms resting on his shoulders as you kiss. It didn’t matter how many times you kissed him there was always a tingle of excitement that ran through your body like waves. You sense the desperation he has the moment his hands travel under your shirt.

“How much?” You whisper teasingly against his lips.

“Enough,” He says roughly his thumbs rubbing circles on the sides of your stomach gently.

“Are you sure you can take it?” You laugh your fingers toying with his wet hair gently. He chuckles a bit the low sound making your heart race with anticipation.

“I’m not that old,” He chuckles. He looks down at you the usual gleam in his eyes back making him look alive again.

“You always say that,” You smile, moving your hands to cup his cheeks and squish them gently.

“My cute gramps,” You laugh and he rolls his eyes as he laughs at your words.

His laugh always made you happy there was never a moment when his happiness didn’t infect you completely. He shook his head at the tease and kissed the palm of your hand, looking down at you lovingly. His hands pull your waist near him, a coy smile on his face a soft blush spreading over his skin.

“I’m here, safe and sound,” He says. You hug him tightly for a moment just for a moment you let it sink in that he’s back he’s alive and safe and whole your heart soars at his company and you swallow thickly.

“You are,” You say softly, you take in his scent. The smell of him you’d been doing whatever you could to get when he was gone filling your lungs.

He hugs you back tightly no matter how cold you kept your apartment he was a walking furnace and you soaked up his warmth greedily. Your hands move down his body it was exactly as you remembered it, every curve and dent. You looked up at him a warm expression on your face as you sigh. You push yourself onto your tip toes a loving kiss pouring out of you as his lips met yours.

You let yourself settle with the realization that he was here.

He was alive.

he was safe.

You could hold him.

You feel him open his mouth a bit and you smile against his lips as your tongue invaded him taking in his taste determined to remember every single thing about him again.

“Mmmf~” He whined a bit. You feel yourself get lost in him melting into him as you kiss him happily. You start guiding him out the door lips hardly separating as you stumbled together to your room.

“I missed you, so much,” He mumbled against your lips it was a desperate attempt to rile you up. His hands traveled to your waist holding onto them as you stumbled into your room.

It dawned on you that it had been a month an entire month since you had last seen Leon, having to find ways to pleasure yourself through the scent of his shirts and through the pictures in your phone that you saved for when he was away.

He stumbled onto the bed sitting down as you climb on top of him. Your knees pressed into the bed on either side of his thighs as you sat on his lap leaning against him with arms warped around his shoulders to pull him in closer. He doesn’t fight back in fact you knew for a fact that he hadn’t had the satisfaction of rubbing one out for that entire month that he was gone. A desperate grumble vibrates through him and makes you shiver with excitement. His hands toyed with the hem of your shorts and you pulled away from your kiss.

“Desperate?” You whispered he whined a bit as you hold onto his hands keeping them from exploring your body any further.

“P-Please,” He looked up at you his pupils blown with need.

“Baby.” He whimpered as you moved your hips with intention. You smile moving to press soft kisses on his jawline and down to his neck kissing on the skin gently. You felt him sigh in happiness as you did and you smile against his skin sucking on all the spots you knew he liked. A soft moan escapes his lips as he tilted his head back giving you more access to his neck.

“Good boy~” You cooed biting the skin softly your tongue licking over the marks gently to soothe them.

He whined in response, relaxing under your touch completely as you worked. You pulled away just enough to roll your hips into him his breath catches and he looks up at you with a pleading face.

“P-Please,” He whined, his hands not moving from your hips because he knew better.

“Please, what?” You say a smile on your lips.

Fuck, you missed him.

“Please, I want more,” He says not even trying to hide the desperation in his voice.

“Sweats,” You slide off of him as you instructed.

Almost as if on instinct he pulls his sweats off, his boxers showing the wet spot of pre cum that had gathered while you were grinding on him.

“What a good boy,” You say again kneeling down on the carpet and spreading his legs apart. You settled between them he sat on the edge of the bed watching you, his face completely flushed as your hands massaged his thighs.

“You look so pretty,” You whisper to him kissing the inside of his thighs and he shutters taking a deep breath of anticipation as your lips press onto his skin gently. You see bruises on the skin not healed from his missions and you feel a bit of sadness wash over you. You kiss them gently not putting pressure on them.

“You poor thing,” You coo and he sighs looking down at you gratefully.

you decided against bruising the skin further. Your hands move to his bulge hidden under his boxers and you graze it teasingly. He shutters again a soft gasp escaping his lips. You palm it through the fabric and he lets his head fall back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Hah~” He moans softly.

You continue to tease him grazing your hands up and down his happy trail. You see him settle a bit and you move to finally free his cock sliding down the boxers and discarding them to the side. You gaze at the thickness of him running your thumb over the slit of the tip and he whined your name hazily.

“Hmm” He hums.

You ghost your fingers near his shaft grazing it teasingly and he rolled his hips wanting any contact.

“Don’t make me tie you down,” You threaten.

He whined a bit embarrassed as he settled back down. You smile and lean forward your tongue lapping at the pre cum collecting at the top that came out in beads. He whimpers softly in pleasure and you swirl your tongue at the tip, you watch his body tense and you can’t help but feel the burning sensation of want in your stomach. You moved down to the base of his cock licking up and down the hardened shaft agonizingly slow.

“Fuck~” He mumbled breathily. His hand comes down to your hair tugging it.

“Leon, you know better,” You warn.

He gasps a bit moving his hand away and holding onto the sheets under him you hum approvingly licking up and down his stiff cock and taking the head of it into your mouth, you feel him shake under you. Your hands hold his hips as you swallowed the girth of it completely. You missed the feeling of his cock down your throat and you hum in satisfaction as your nose reaches his base.

“Hah~” Leon whined again gripping the sheets under him his knuckles turning white.

You find yourself too desperate to continue teasing him so you begin moving slowly. Your head moved up and down taking in his cock down your throat like it was the best thing you’d ever tasted. He squirmed under you, his breath becoming more ragged with every movement.

“Shit~” He whined, rocking into your mouth desperately as he let his head fall back in pleasure.

You gag a bit at the movement but continued, speeding up as your tongue swirled around his shaft.

“Hah~ Ah~” Leon’s voice rang through the room and echoed in your head making your body burn. You happily bobbed your head sucking his cock like it was candy.

“I- I’m- hah~” Leon’s voice was soft and desperate as he gripped at the sheet under him your eyes water as he bucks into your mouth and you swallow around him causing another groan to rip through him.

“I’m gonna~” He whined his voice was heavy.

Your movements didn’t slow as your jaw locked around him and tears flowed from your eyes as his dick hit the back of your throat over and over again. His back was arched and his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he let out one final moan as his cum shot down your throat.

Your hands massaged the outside of his thighs soothing him through the process as you swallowed his seed and pulled away his cock. You look up at him wiping your mouth as he panted.

“So good,” He mumbled trying to catch his breath. You stand a slip your shorts off along with your panties.

“I’m not done.” You say pushing him against the bed kissing him roughly forcing him to taste the cum in your mouth.

“You taste good,” You mumble into his mouth and he whined his hands at your waist.

“Can I touch you now?” He begged.

You smile against his lips and move his hand between your thighs. He moved on instinct as if muscle memory carried him while his fingers rubbed the sensitive nerves. You moan into his mouth softly as he works slick coating his fingers.

“Looks like you missed me just as much as I missed you,” He smiled up at you as he spoke.

His fingers worked your clit just the way he knew you liked it. His digits push in after a moment making you buck against his hand.

“Keep going,” You whispered softly rolling your hips into his hand fucking yourself onto his fingers.

“So pretty,” He whispered softly, sending chills down your back you grab his wrists and force him to stop placing them on your hips.

“Keep me steady, yeah?” You whispered softly and he nods your hands moves to his cock again pumping him to stiffen him up he whined softly at the movement. You position yourself on top of him and slide down slowly the slick of your body making it easy after he had stretched you out.

“Fuck, I love you so much~” He whined breathlessly gripping onto your hips.

You crack a smile you missed him too. His words sunk in you, and the heat in your stomach knotted with desire. You place your hands on his stomach steadying yourself as you took a deep breath moving your hips back and forth slowly, soft moans escape your lips as you look down at Leon with a smile, he grins back up at you his face completely flushed.

“Look at you~ so cute,” You coo.

He whines as you quicken your movements rocking your hips and feeling him inside you. You’d missed the feeling of this. Having him completely under your control and doing whatever you asked him to. it was your favorite thing about him. You knew he felt the same it was no secret Leon was bigger than you, stronger, and older he could do whatever you wanted to you if he felt the urge. He could fight back but he willingly let you do whatever, anything you wanted he’d give it to you.

You quicken your movements on him bouncing a bit so that his cock hit that perfect little spot inside you. He groaned at your movements panting heavily as his grip on your thighs tighten.

“S-So good~” He whimpered looking up at you his eyes glazed over with lust.

You don’t answer so focused on the feeling of him inside you, you couldn’t help but hang your head in pleasure panting as moans escape your lips his hands keeping you steady as he bucked up against you making a moan rip from your throat loudly.

“Leon,” you rasp, moaning as you continued to move your pace rhythmically.

“I’m sorry,” He breathed, squeezing his eyes shut as you moved.

You continued to move. Your movements became erratic losing control by the second the longer you moved the more you felt your stomach tighten.

“H-Hey, I’m gonna-“ He whined, you look down at him with sharp eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” You say, as you continued to move.

He nods with a whine and holds you steady as you continue to pleasure yourself with him using him for the satisfaction you had been craving for so long as he laid and took it, repressing the release he so obviously craved.

“Please, please I need to,” He begged, his breathing was erratic.

You say nothing.

“Please, oh god… please… baby… I need to…. So… fuck…” He babbled, unable to form a sentence as he used him.

You looked down at him as tears formed in his eyes as he continued to beg you to let him cum. His face was flushed as drool dripped from the corner of his mouth. He held back his release his breath catching into his throat. He looked up as tears flowed from his eyes.

“Please~” He begged, you look down at him saying nothing and he sniffles.

“Fuck,” He cried the intense pleasure overwhelmingly strong as he begged to finish.

Finally, you feel the string in your stomach snap and you let out a string of moans clenching around him as you cum in satisfaction. You slide off just as he cum’s onto his stomach and he relaxes into the bed heaving, sniffling, and wiping tears from his face. You wipe the tears off his face, cooing softly.

“You did so good,” You whisper.

“Good job,” You reassure as he calms down a bit. He pulls you down into a strong hug, panting holding you tightly.

“Fuck, I needed this,” He sniffles.

You smile and pull away.

“Who said I was done?"

[occasionally-good-ideas]

Void hopper

The Infinite Realms: the ‘void’ that separates dimensions, and the home of The Dead.

A boy sits alone in the void and writes about his travels

—————————————————————

It really is infinite!! time is non linear over all and all the realms/zones have their own ‘land’ formations and colors

so far I’ve seen:

—the classic green ‘ghost zone’ [that names a little bit inaccurate; there’s ghosts everywhere] green, a bit slimy, flouting islands, doors, ghosts with strong obsessions

—the ‘furthest ring’ that one’s mostly blank with… frogs?? And really BIG anncient entity’s [are they a specific type of ghost?] that blow bubbles into the void, ghosts that look eerily human sometimes make it out of the bubbles… don’t know what that’s about.

—the ‘Phantom zone’ (lmao) couldn’t get a real good look it’s gaurded really well, I saw clouds? Pilers and.. living? Villains?? Not dealing with that.

—one that’s all fire and rock, it’s inhabits are mostly skeletons and demons… I’m pretty sure it’s straight up Hell but I didn’t stick around to ask for a name.

——————————————————————

Danny closed his journal, he’s been wandering the Realms in both his forms for almost two years now, and it’s fun! Don’t get him wrong, it’s just- when there’s no ghosts around the silence gets… disturbing. So he goes about in human form! Thinks out loud and listens to his organs work. There pretty noisy when you’re not used to it.

Before he left His Realm, all those months ago, he packed a duffel bag with nonperishable food, under clothes [thin long sleeves, leggings, tang-tops and sweats] tools, weapons [blasters and knives mostly] and a blank book/writing stuff.

He’d put on a hazmat/jumpsuit like the one he died in, steal toed boots, and modified fenton phones he calls ‘coms’ and headed to the Ghost Zone. On his travels he picked up a black coat, utility belt and a cool viser that gets compacted into his coms

He hasn’t visually aged past 16, he’s got no idea if that’s cause he’s in the Zone or it’s All Him. still 5’3 and well- not ‘baby faced’ but not all that sharp.

Right now, he’s sitting on an empty island, watching the swirling purple, pink and orange sky as he picks at the dull red grass after finishing his latest little journal entry.

“Huh” the ‘clouds’ of this place shift abruptly as they hit a wall-like membrane on the far side of this… area/realm/zone “It kinda looks like a wall…” a cave? he looks more closely at the horizons around him “yeah there’s another one… walls…” walls between what?

He packs his book and writing stuff into its pocket of his bag, gets into a crouch at the edge of the island he was sitting at and kicks of, watching his black hair drift around his face as his momentum carries him towards one of the ‘walls’.

When he’s close enough he reaches out a hand, the wall is… soft? Like rubbery- not so much a WALL-wall but like a lining, kinda flesh-like and living “Woah…” awe and intrigue lace his voice as he presses and runs his hands over the barrier to feel it move. Some areas seem… thinner? Easier to move deffinetly, one part in particular feels about as thick as a half filled water balloon, so thin “what if iiiii”

he pushed into the thin spot, not expecting much when he felt it give, a deep hum filling the air around him the smell of rain filled his nose and static ozone filled his mouth as a force pulled him forward by the hand that used to be on the wall “Oh FU-“

He’d torn a hole through the barrier and was now /Free-falling/ on the Other Side.

Rain pelts his face as he falls, so that’s where that smell came from! He wills off gravity in order to slow his fall.

Now he’s falling at the same speed as the rain instead of faster, he opens his eyes to see- the rain drops. At this speed they look still, suspended in air refracting the dappled light of the sun through the clouds. Like silver stars on a backdrop of gray clouds and green- green?? What’s green?

He looks up- or, is it down… towards the ground. Which is still rapidly approaching! Turns out rain drops fall pretty fast. He quickly scans the forest for a good place to land… “that’ll do”

He lands in a bush that splinters under the force of his fall, some of the sturdier branch’s don’t snap and end up stabbing Danny through his right leg, the skin of his waist- no guts thank the ancients, and two places in his right arm. “FUCK WHY?! AUGHCK” he takes a deep breath in, holds it then lets it out “huuhhhh this looks so much better in cartoons- ooookay how do iiiiii-“ wait a minute.. he’s a ghost! He turns intangible, falls through the Death Bush and rolls on to his back in the clearing the bush was bordering.

“Well that… could’ve gone worse! At least the rain feels nice..” and the rain does feel nice, refreshing in a way that’s hard to come by in the realms, it drums gently on his face and suit as he calms down, rinsing the blood away from quickly healing wounds.

As he lies on the grass catching his breath, rain soothing his scratched skin, breathing in the smell of mud and wet leaves, blood long washed away, tasting fresh water as the rain seeps into his mouth.He feels Alive.

He lets gravity push him into the mud “hehe squish” he laughs at the sky, giddy and a bit out of it as the adrenaline settles.

“Ha! how far did I fall??” He sits up clicks the button on his com to activate his visor. The screen materializes in a wave of rectangular pixels from one com to the other. Looking up, now he can see the tear about ehhhh four story’s up? Pretty dang high to get Launched from.

“Huh I… tore a hole through a ‘wall’ in the zone… and ended up in the mortal world… was that the veil?? I thought that was a metaphor..” he mumbled that last part.

That hum when he broke through, it resonated in his core like intangibility cranked up to 10, a familiar frequency kind of like when wulf would open portals- “Ancients I made a portal!!! Wow that’s really obvious. How did I not get that until now?!?” If he could make a portal out. That means he can make one going in.

Reaching for that Hum, he feels himself shift through the planes of reality like turning a nob to find the right radio station. He focuses on his core, feeling himself pass all planes of human perception -he closes his eyes as the world around him becomes a flashing mess of unknown colors and seemingly meaningless shapes- Trying to get it to match the Hum from before- There!

Eyes still closed, Danny listens closely… that’s it! That bone deep Hum. When he opens his eyes the first thing he notes is that the world has reformed from that splotchy haze it was before, the second thing is The Veil, translucent Walls criss crossing over Everything like a spider web made three-dimensional. “Woah…”

He slowly reaches out a hand to touch one of the walls- part of The Veil man that’s so cool! It feels… less fleshy, more flexible, it has more give without breaking. “Cool!!” Now to make a portal back, he pushes on the veil like before and… it just stretches. Hm.

Maybe it just takes more effort going this way, he pushes harder on the stretchy membrane, nope it just stretches! “Hm. Okay” Danny takes a few steps back, “how about, this-“ he runs headfirst into the wall, and promptly gets thrown back by said wall. “DANG IT man it was so easy to get through the first time what gives!?” He punches the wall, nothing. He kicks it, nope nothing. He starts clawing at the wall trying to dig through it but nothing is WORKING- he slammed both fists into the veil and they bounce back and hit him in the face. “AUGH”

ok this isn’t working. He takes a step back and takes a breath, he looks around at the shattered glass like walls around him, some are thick, others thin. They reach up into the sky and don’t seem to rely on anything physical to keep them in place… nothing physical. how about non-physical?

He gatherers plasma in the palm of his hand, when the Plasma Ball is about as big as a tennis ball he chucks it full force at the section of the veil he’s been abusing for the last ten minutes, the wall makes a sizzling sound as the plasma makes contact and then the plasma- gets absorbed?? Soaked up like coffee on paper, “well. It did something at least”

What about electricity? The black haired boy walks up to the flimsy, deceptively strong membrane, he squares his shoulders, places his left hand on the veil. he lets the energy build for a moment before sending it running. It shoots past his shoulder and races down his arm in arks of electric yellow/green till it shocks the barrier. The veil goes stiff like brittle rubber under his fingertips -now-

Hand still on the wall he curls his fingers and claws into the weakened veil. It crumbles under his hand, releasing the acidic smell of the pure ectoplasm of the realms, an opening. He quickly gets his other hand in the tear and struggles to pull it open, he can see reality fold and ripple as the hole in The Veil opens into a portal just large enough to fly through.

He takes a step back, eyes wide under his visor, he lets out a deep exhale that frosts the air around him “woah” breath heavy with adrenaline he looks at the portal, small oval shaped and swirling electric green and ice blue. He looks down at his hands electricity still sparking between them and his just-now-noticed claws. When did that happen? His usually blunt nails have grown to sharpened points, pressing against the tough rubber of his gloves but not breaking through.

A mischievous grin split his face revealing sharp fangs, “oh this is gonna be fun”

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

All Along the Watchtower (chapter 7)

[Can also be read on AO3]

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: Minors DNI - no major warnings this time besides some angsty thoughts, mentions of human trafficking, smoking, and swearing

Otherwise, get ready for lots of flirting and banter

Summary: Upon return to the safehouse Rory and Price decide on their next steps to deal with Zorokov and face some of the skeletons in Rory's closet.

A/N: Rory Sinclair is a dual citizen (both Canada and the UK) who's been living in the UK since she was 14. She is 28 at the time of this fic, Price is 32. This series is set in 2017 before the events of the first MW game. Rory's thoughts are bold and italicized, other italics are used for emphasis

October 18, 2017 01:30 - Safehouse

Price stood against the frosty window, red flashing neon lights from the hotel sign outside painting streaks along the wall as coils of grey smoke drifted from the end of his cigar he puffed away on, clouds of it billowing from his mouth as he exhaled. Steady, cold eyes stared out from under his furrowed brow as he held his tablet and conversed with Laswell. 

Rory tucked herself on the side of her bed, crossing one leg and folding it under the other as she lit her cigarette and listened to the two of them discuss how the mission had gone so far, the intel they collected, the freedom of the hostages saved, and what the next steps were, all the while feeling like she was a kid in detention. What had happened in that club was not her greatest hour and hardly the defining moment of her career (she hoped for this mission as well). Sure she’d saved the lives of those women, but there was certainly a new form of tension between her and the Captain – one she could have done without. She hadn't come this far in her career to fuck it all up now and get herself chained to a desk from here on. 

“ The laptop was a good find. Searching it now. ” Laswell’s voice filled the small hotel room while Rory held an ice pack to her shoulder, her fingers trembling as they clung to the plastic bag, still feeling the ache from the fight she had been in earlier. She pulled the cigarette from her lips and exhaled, some of the stress momentarily relieved as she was hit by another dose of nicotine. 

“Went through enough trouble to get it.”

Her ears burned as Price's condemning glare landed on her. Embarrassment and her wounded pride festered inside. For all her skill and her cool, calm demeanour she still fell prey to that part of her that wanted every reminder in her head of that mission removed by any means necessary, even putting herself and others in danger. It was hot-headed and foolhardy, not the move of someone who wanted to be a leader, not the decision someone with her experience should ever make. 

She looked up at the captain just as he turned away, his back facing her and (taking the hint) got up and headed into the bathroom, the toilet lid serving as her seat as she continued icing her aches and pains away. 

Pulling the sweater over her head, slowly rolling the bulk of knitted material off of her torso, she sat there in just the thin material of her bra, letting the shock of freezing ice hit her bare skin. Wincing, Rory bit her lip, exhaling smoke through her nostrils forcefully. The red swelling on her arm and shoulder had already given way to dark blue and purple bruising in tortoiseshell patches along her skin. Deep inside the tender muscle she felt the sting pulsating, the pain hidden far below the surface.

Even with the door shut she could still hear the hoarse whispers of Price from the other room as he continued talking with Laswell. 

“ How’s the sergeant doing? ”

“SRR having her on desk duty might’ve been for good reason. Girl nearly botched the whole damn op.”

Tossing the bag of half melted ice into the sink beside her, Rory continued to smoke, sitting in the flickering fluorescent lights, beating herself up more about what she had done than the Bratva enforcer ever had. It was a nightmare. She had worked rigorously to get to this point in her career, tireless in her efforts. This was her shot to impress a special forces officer with her skills that could get her back out into the field and instead she was letting the shit that resided in the back of her head take the lead. She was better than all this. He had every right to say that about her. The situation only stung more knowing that this was all some vain attempt to prove that she wasn’t that twenty three year old corporal in the bathroom stall anymore, that she wasn’t young and impulsive, that she had changed. 

Her hand shook as she held the cigarette, the ash falling off the end as she rubbed at her tired eyes. Saving those girls was the right move, it was the only move. It was the one her mother would have wanted her to make. Fighting for something that was right. Doing a little good to make up for all the bad she had done. That was the kind of person she had been raised as. The kindness of the ‘Lamb’, a direct result of her upbringing under the gentle wing of a woman who had always put others first before herself. Not the violent thing she had been trained to become, forced to morph into in order to survive in a cruel and unforgiving world filled with enemies. 

“Thought you said she had experience with this sort of thing?”

“ She does . Plenty .”

More experience than Rory cared to admit, than her record would allow to show. Redactions upon redactions and black ink that hid all the things that had been asked of her. Things she willingly did. For the greater good. 

Price grunted, “At least she can fight.”

That felt more like a sucker punch to the gut than a compliment. The reason she was sure the SRR had recruited her. Tired and worn out, bi-weekly visits to the therapist, pills to help her sleep – but at least she could fight. At least she had experience. At least she knew just how fucked the world was. How corrupt and fallible the system was, how rules were made to be broken just like people. They couldn’t lose that, could they? Her skills, her achievements, they were useful even as her hands shook. She could turn off her morality because someone with more patches and medals on their uniform told her so. At least she could fight. 

“ The intel you found, it's a rabbit hole, John. Just when we think we've found the bottom another trail opens. This goes deep and Zorokov's name keeps popping up all along the way .”

“Any other names stickin’ out?”

“ Yeah , hold on a minute .” Laswell cut off for a moment, leaving Rory in the silence of the bathroom as she sucked on the filter of her cigarette and breathed in the burning sensation of smoke that charred every branch of her lungs. “ Abdullah Al Ghulam. He's apparently under protection. An asset. Was supposed to be keeping his nose clean in Dubai .”

She froze. God, that name would never stop haunting her . Just when she thought one door to her memory closed, another was kicked wide open. Crushing the cigarette butt into the sink, she walked back into the room as she pulled her sweater on carefully, trying not to agitate her shoulder further. Not bothering to wait for the captain’s reaction to her return before speaking, “Al Ghulam never should have been given protection. My squad should have taken him out in Syria when we had the chance.”

Price looked up from his tablet, his eyes burning into her. “Pardon?”

Pulling at the thick fibres hanging loosely around her waist, straightening out the sweater to lay flat, Rory continued, “Abdullah Al Ghulam. The black mission before my transfer. That was who my squad was sent to intercept. He was an arms dealer assisting the insurgency in Iraq.”

“ You’ve dealt with him before? Why wasn’t he removed ?” Laswell asked, a flurry of keystrokes audible from her end. 

“The CIA officer we were working with had orders to keep him alive.”

“Of course,” Price groaned.

Laswell’s voice came through once more. “ Who was the officer on that mission, Sergeant? ”

“Officer Roger Walker.”

“ I’ve had dealings with him ,” Laswell replied with a heavy sigh. 

“He’s a charming fellow.” The venom in Rory’s voice wasn’t lost on anyone. 

“ I’ll look into his mission report for that op, see what I can dig up. Might give us some more fuel for the fire. Meanwhile –”

“Meanwhile, Zorokov is still making deals and walking around a free man,” Price interjected.

“ He’s still our priority here, getting to him is imperative. With the trace we have working we know there’s a meeting coming up between him and a few of his connections. Has it marked in the calendar as ‘Helios’ at nine pm on the 25th. From what I can tell, it’s a nightclub. Apparently it's the home for many of his dealings, out of the sight of prying eyes while under everyone’s nose .”

Price rolled his eyes to look up at the ceiling, visibly unimpressed with the thought of having to go to another club. “Christ,” he rasped.

“Relax, sir. You can’t go in there anyway, Zorokov’s probably already been made aware of you.” Rory looked at him with a smirk. “Besides, we both know you don’t like the music.” Rather than focus on her mistakes, she couldn’t help but make light of the situation, anything to make her feel a little less like a ball and chain that Price was forced to drag around. 

Lifting his brow, the corners of Price's mouth just starting to curl. “So what, you’re offering to go in my stead? If he knows about me, he’s going to know you too – especially after your little jailbreak.”

She let the jab roll off her back like water. “Maybe. That’s a risk we’ll have to take. If anyone’s going to be able to get close to him, it’s me. No matter how well guarded a man thinks he is, when it comes to women, the brain might not be the one in control.”

The pause afforded between them was thick, that awkward elephant in the room still swaying its trunk. Professionalism was a tactful barrier keeping them from doing something they might regret. The rosy blush on Price’s cheeks faded while a grimace crept back up his face, the little flexes in each of his features letting her know something wasn’t sitting right with him even as he tried to remain stony.

“And considering Al Ghulam is tied up into this as well, there’s a friend of mine who I think could help,” Rory continued. 

“A friend?” His brow rose. His body, a wall of muscle, stiffened.

“An MI6 agent. Andrew Owen.”

He sneered at the thought. “I don’t like to work with people I’ve never met before. I need to be able to trust who I’ve got covering my six. Not the biggest fan of intelligence personnel either – no offence, Kate.”

“ None taken. ”

Rory crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged her shoulders. “You’re working with me.” She tipped her head to the side and stared him down in a challenge. 

For all intents and purposes, Price really didn’t know her other than in the biblical sense. He might have picked around in her head a little, barely scraping the surface, but he had an opinion of her now even if it wasn’t the full picture. He failed to remember she was also military intelligence. She might have screwed up her last shot, but this was an opportunity to save her bacon, to prove her skills in another capacity. Deep recon .

“That's different.”

“Is it?” She didn't see how.

Ignoring her question completely, Price continued, “How do you plan on getting to Zorokov? Gonna start more trouble?” He eyed her up and down with a low hum. 

Rory smiled and dropped her hands to her hips, her confidence spilling over in the moment, reminding the captain of the pretty woman who had once grabbed his attention five years ago. “Just have to use my feminine wiles and sweet talk the prick, yeah?” She said with a simple shrug of her shoulder and a flutter of her lashes. 

“You’re willing to be bait?” 

Her eyes never left his gaze, pumping herself up on the inside, refusing to back down. “I know what my strengths are.” 

Price’s eyes roamed over her once more, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. She was sure he was picturing how she had looked that night in the bar, the woman he had been seduced by. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem for you to catch his attention.” His eyes seemed to twinkle at her as he said it, the smirk on his face causing the lines on his face to crinkle as he gave a quick little thrust of his pelvis and bounced on his heels. 

Rory rolled her eyes and huffed quietly. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t try and chat me up in Russian.”

“If he does, you can always just smile and nod – he’d probably like that.” He paused and his grin got wider. “Just open with that posh girl accent you’ve built up and I’m sure he’ll have no problem usin’ the Queen’s English with ya.”

“Oh, cheers.” She couldn’t help but laugh as he took the piss out of her.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing, Sergeant.” He spoke with a warm rumble, softening up to her. “You certainly sound more English than the first time I met you, can hardly tell you’re even Canadian anymore.”

“Yeah, well, time’ll do that to a person.”

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his head to meet her eye line, his voice quieter. “It suits you.”

Rory cocked her brow, taken aback by the compliment given out of the blue. Her lips parted, eyes widening. Doe-like . “Really?”

“Yeah. I like it.” 

She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, her jaw clenching tight. Not sure how to take it. It was just a little too friendly. He seemed a little too comfortable being playful with her now, even with Laswell on the line listening in, especially after the way she had acted earlier.

“Right,” he ran a hand through his hair and dropped his eyes from her to return to his tablet. Putting on the airs of the stoic captain once more. “Get in touch with Owen. We’ll start working on getting you nice and personal with Zorokov.”

“ Good luck out there. The both of you. ”

“Thanks, Kate.” He ended the call with Laswell and looked over at Rory once more, pausing to size her up. “You sure you’re ready for this? Going in undercover?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it.” Sliding her hands over her hips, she rested them in the back pockets of her jeans. Casual . Hoping she appeared relaxed. 

“This isn’t like recon out in the field though, is it? You’d be up close. On your own. I can’t have your switch flipping.”

“I’m aware. I know that this is our best chance of getting to him, nabbing him and interrogating him.” Her eyes fell as her mouth drew into a straight line, she knew how easily this situation could make her flip. “I’ll deal with the personal shit.”

Heaving out a sigh, Price bit his lip. “Contact your mate, get him out here, soon as,” he ordered, pointing his finger at her as he did so. “The quicker we can get the hell out of this shithole, the better.” 

“Yes, sir.”

Crossing the room, he walked over to his bed and tossed the tablet into his duffel. Stretching his neck from side to side as he sat down, he finished smoking the last of his cigar, his impenetrable gaze shifting sideways as he kept her in his periphery. 

Rory dug into her bag and pulled out her cellphone, scrolling through her list of contacts before her thumb hovered over her old lieutenant’s name. She always knew letting Al Ghulam go into CIA hands was the wrong decision, it was a little too late to say ‘I told you so’, but she might finally get some closure on an old scar and it would be nice to do so with an old friend at her side, someone who knew just how bad the bastard was.

The dial tone in her ear rang several times before Andrew answered, his smile apparent in his voice. “ Sinclair! ”

She paced along the floor beside her bed, a few steps to the left and then back to the right, glancing up every now and again to notice Price still watching her out of the corner of his eye. “Andy, I need you.”

“ Say no more, darling. What do you need? ”

Her thumb had drifted up towards her mouth and her nail sat between her teeth. “Working an op –”

“ You’re out in the field again? ”

The concern in his voice, she could hear it plain as day. Andrew had been the only person she could really talk to about what she had seen because he had lived it too. He knew just how badly it had affected her. The nightmares. The tremors. He was the only one with the clearance to know, not to mention the threat that still loomed over her from Walker about wiretapping. Even if she wanted to tell her father about what had happened to his only daughter, she couldn’t. All she had was Andy.

“Yeah. Russia.”

“ Jesus, you’re a ways from home. ”

Price stared at her from over his shoulder and she had to avert her eyes, going back to pacing in front of the bed. “Can’t go into full details but I need you to do a little shopping for me before you meet me here. And I need you to bring a very easily concealable wire with you.”

“ Consider me intrigued .”

“Going in undercover. Need to catch some prey. It requires using some… assets .”

“ Showing a little leg for a cause? ”

Her smirk grew. “I trust your judgement, Andy.”

“ You might regret saying that .” His laugh was warm and genuine, he’d never been above teasing her with playful banter.

“Shut it,” she said with a laugh. “Need you out this way ASAP.”

“ I’ll be there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail .” Rory rolled her eyes. “ Text me your measurements, yeah? ”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll send you details in a bit. Just hurry up.”

“ See you soon .”

Upon hanging up her phone she noticed the way Price’s eyes seemed to have narrowed, the crow's feet by his eyes creasing further. “It’s late. We should get some rest.” With that, he stood up and moved for the bathroom. 

She would be lucky if sleep came to her tonight.  

---

It had started to rain in the early morning hours, droplets spilling down the single glass pane cutting long streaks through the frost that clung to the window, the red neon lights filtering through and creating bubbled patterns on the wall. Rory sat wearing little besides a tee shirt and her panties on the radiator looking out the window, cracked open just enough to let a cold breeze through the room. Slipping a cigarette from the pack, she lit it and inhaled deeply while closing her eyes, breathing in the nicotine and the night. Running her fingers through her hair, she brushed the dark tresses over to part on the opposite side. 

Lost in the haze of smoke that surrounded her head, she was startled by John’s gruff voice, made thicker by the sleep he’d just stirred from. “You’re awake?” Rubbing at his beard, he rolled over in his bed to sit on the side of it, wearing only his boxer briefs as his steely gaze bore into her from the dark as he watched her. “What’re you doin’ up?”

She took another drag of her cigarette before looking at him, exhaling out a stream of smoke like a chimney. "Can't sleep. It's not a rare thing for me."

Stretching out his back with a groan, he continued to watch her. "Somethin’ bothering you, Sergeant?"

"Not particularly,” she hummed. “Suppose it's just a good night for a smoke."

He chuckled and got up, grabbing his own cigar and lighter from his bedside table. "Mind if I join you?"

“Like I could stop you,” she said with a smirk, her gaze traveling with him as he took a spot near her on the wall by the window. It was the first time she had really been given the chance to see him in all his glory. Even when they had been together five years ago, they were both at least partially dressed. Seeing him like this was rather eye opening and Rory couldn’t help but take in all the sights along Price’s body. Every scar, each freckle, the hair that carpeted his chest, trailing down his stomach, and covered his muscular limbs. 

"You’d be surprised." He smirked as he caught her eyes roaming over him, but he didn’t bring attention to it, rather basking in it instead. “New habit?”

“This?” Rory motioned with the cigarette in her hand. “God, no.” She laughed quietly and took another drag from it. "Been smoking these since I was 16. Used to sneak out to the pitch behind the school with my mates for a fag and watch the lads play footie."

"You rebel," John said with another chuckle. Lifting his lighter to the tip of his cigar, he let the flame dance against it until it began to smoke, burning in the dark.

"I’m surprised you didn’t taste it on my breath before." She tapped her cigarette ashes out the window and stared at the orange glow across from her, like a moth to a flame she felt drawn to him.

“I haven’t tasted much in years,” he said, chomping down on his cigar, letting the smoke billow from his nostrils. 

She giggled quietly and her eyes rose to watch the embers at the end of the cigar burning with the same vigor as the ones that had begun to flicker in her gut. Her mouth suddenly went dry, finding it difficult to swallow. Her breath hitching as her mind tried to process the thoughts that didn’t revolve around the handsome man that stood before her. When she finally gained some clarity of thought between puffs of her cigarette, her smile faded as she spoke, "There is something, Captain."

"'Course."

His voice was gravelly at this time of night, and as he came to lean against the wall beside the window with his shoulder, drawing himself a little closer towards her, she seemed to find it hard to ask the question that she’d been carrying for some time. 

"Why was I the one chosen for this mission?"

"You'd have to ask Laswell that one," he said with a grumble.

Warm hazel eyes tried to read his expression as shadows streaked across his face. “You didn't have a hand in it at all?"

"Not a one. Scout's honor,” he said with a nod. “Trust me, seeing you board that helo was one hell of a shock to me too."

A smile broke out across her face. "Liar. You didn't even know it was me." She tapped her cigarette ashes out the window and smirked around it as she brought it back to sit between her lips.

He flexed his shoulders, crossing his arms over his chest. "Maybe not right away. You’d cut your hair and your accent’s gotten thicker too, but the moment I heard you say Rory, well , then it all clicked into place."

“Oh, did it now?” She’d forgotten how very little she was wearing until the moment she noticed his eyes wander up the length of her legs, a hint of desire in his gaze before meeting hers with a warm glint. Pulling down on the hem of her shirt – what little good it did – she stared back at him. “We’re supposed to be professionals, remember ?”

His eyes flitted away from her, pulling the cigar from his mouth to blow out a plume of smoke. “Forgive me, Sergeant. There’s only so much a man can take before his body betrays his will.”

“You have been doing a very good job considering we’ve been trapped together like this. I’ll give you that.”

He cleared his throat, averting his gaze from her as best he could. Rubbing at his neck as he tried to change subjects. “Back there…seeing that side of you...the knife.”

The cigarette in her mouth glowed as she inhaled with a heavy breath, sighing out the stream of smoke. “I’m not particularly fond of having to be like that. I do what I have to. Intimidation, fear – they’re good weapons. But I’m not some sadist, I don’t enjoy it.”

“Wasn’t going to say that you do. You don’t stay a soldier for as long as we have without getting your hands dirty. I’m no innocent here myself.”

Tapping her cigarette out the opening once more, she leaned back against the window frame and closed her eyes taking a deep breath before returning the cigarette to her lips. “Getting my hands dirty…I know all about that.” She huffed out a laugh and took the cigarette from her mouth before resting her hands on her knees, the smoke trailing in wisps up from the cigarette’s ashy tip. “The mission I worked before this, the one that got me transferred. Al Ghulam . It was supposed to just be the usual joint CIA mission tracking weapon shipments.” A tremor shook through hand and she was quick to start rubbing at her knuckles, trying to work out the ghosts that seemed to haunt her nerves below. “I don’t know where the intel went wrong, but we stumbled upon something else instead.” She paused and pressed her forehead to the cold glass beside her. Her stare blank as she looked down at the street below. Her voice a quiet whisper as it cracked. “Human trafficking ring. I’ll never forget seeing women and children being penned like animals, bought and sold like property. Starving…Treated like dog shit.”  

He pulled the cigar from his mouth, his brow furrowed as he stared at her, muttering a hushed “Jesus” under his breath.

“These bastards trade them like they’re on the fucking stock exchange.” She blinked several times and glanced over at him. “I’m sorry if I went off the rails back there. I just –” She shook her head, running her fingers through her hair again. “Knowing the absolute lows of humanity isn’t something I can always keep locked in the vault, you know?” Looking up at him, Rory lifted her brow, hoping they might come to some sort of understanding.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t follow orders and that I acted on my own accord. I wouldn’t be like that for any other reason. It won’t happen again, Captain.” She gave him a soft grin, placating him.

Taking another long drag of his cigar, he blew smoke and sighed. “See that it doesn’t. We’re here to get intel to fight a war, Sinclair. Not get revenge. I don’t need you actin’ like a fuckin’ muppet on my watch.”

Cracking a wide grin, a laugh leaked out of her against her will. “I deserve that.”

“Goddamn right you do.” His teasing smirk returned, the crow’s feet around his eyes crinkling. “But considering the shit you’ve seen I'm surprised you can even crack a bloody grin at all.”

Rory shrugged, tipping her head to the side, feeling vulnerable for just a brief moment. “That's just life though, isn't it? It's the fucking pits, and then we die, and that's that. No point letting it ruin what bit of good there is.”

His brow knit together, but he kept his cocky grin as he continued to look at her. Not adding to her discussion, instead appearing as though he was debating something in his head, the cogs spinning behind his eyes.

Basking in the red neon light, she smiled softly at him. “You're looking at me like I've just grown an extra head, John.”

“ John ? We're back to a first name basis, eh?”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” 

“Not exactly professional, is it?” He lowered his head and looked up at her through his raised brow, the lines in his forehead creasing. A spark in his self-assured stare.

“No, I suppose not.”

“You s'pose right.” He stubbed out his cigar on the windowsill. “Get some sleep, Sinclair.” He patted her leg with his large, rough hand and then moved back to his bed. 

The warmth from where he had touched her lingered, her fingers grazing over where his calloused hand had been as if she could still feel him there. Her ogle followed him as he settled back into his bed, spending just a little too long focusing on his body. 

Fuck. 

She was falling despite herself. 

[herosplatling-replica]

A Little TLC

Rhythm Doctor one-shot, 4,524 words, General category

Ada and Ian have been overworking themselves again. The Intern decides to help out.

Doctor Ada Paige let out a rumbling sigh as she collapsed into her office’s armchair by the fireplace, trying not to fall asleep then and there.

The shift today had been especially torturous – Ian was busy in the hospital’s basement trying to code whatever miracle cure Edega wanted him to make this time, and the Intern was running around like a headless chicken trying to keep everyone’s heart rate stable. She still had the Janitor and the Nurse helping her out here and there, but Ada found that she was having a hard time keeping up with the workload that Doctor Edega kept shoving onto her.

...It probably doesn’t help that I haven’t slept well at all lately, Ada thought to herself, taking her glasses off and folding them up. Don’t have the chance to get groceries, and don’t have the luxury of sleeping in, ‘cause I’d need to be up in time for the next shift…

It gnawed at her. The Middlesea Hospital staff needed more people; was the budget really stretched thin enough to warrant a skeleton crew setup? She was barely getting enough sleep, how was Ian doing having to handle new irregularities in the patients’ heart patterns? Ada tried not to worry, but it was all she did, really.

Paige took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose as she exhaled. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. Ian’s used to this… You can get used to it too.

Breathe in, breathe out.

God, this job is gonna be the death of me.

Ada continued to breathe, massaging the pressure point between her eyebrows as the headache that threatened to creep up on her passed. She just… needed some rest. All of them did, really. She tried to picture a stress-free day, finding her idea of it included a big meal and a freshly made bed waiting for her at home.

The doctor finally felt like she was relaxing a touch. Her eyes began to creak closed as a thought spoke up in the back of her head that she needed to clock out, but Paige’s exhausted body refused to move from this space of comfort.

...Somebody else can handle that, she thought to herself, and she fell asleep.

-💓 -

Ian was still working in the basement when the Intern found him. He made a vague noise of acknowledgment and continued to work as the Intern walked into the basement, careful climbing down the stairs.

The noise of the computer fans whirring and the rapid tapping away of the keyboard nearly distracted the Intern from the growing mess that was accumulating around their coworker’s space. They tilted their monitor head, watching as Ian threw back another energy drink and set the empty can on the edge of his desk.

It only took a few seconds before the emptied can clattered to the floor as Ian wiped the sweat off his brow, leaning into the computer screen a bit more as he continued to type away.

Wordlessly, the Intern reached into the mini fridge in the basement and pulled out a cold water bottle to set it on the doctor’s desk, closer to the center so it wouldn’t fall. As if the spell he was under broke, Ian blinked and looked up at them.

“O-oh. Thanks, Intern. I’ll be done in a bit, I just- Edega asked me to do more modifications,” he mumbled, taking his glasses off for a moment to wipe them. “’m almost done. Just need to do final bug tests.”

The Intern frowned internally, finally seeing the heavy bags under Ian’s eyes. They nudged the water bottle closer, then tapped on the desk.

-.-- --- ..- / -. . . -.. / - --- / .... -.-- -.. .-. .- - . --..-- / .. .- -. .-.-.-

« You need to hydrate, Ian. »

Ian’s face scrunched slightly as he listened, and he put his glasses back on with a grimace. “You’re starting to sound like Ada. But yeah, I’ll drink it. I swear.”

The Intern stood for a second, crossing their arms as they tilted their monitor head in a way that they hoped looked like they were raising their eyebrows, and Ian reluctantly reached for the water bottle and unscrewed it. At that, they clapped their hands together in happiness and left Ian alone, searching for a plastic bag in the basement.

He could keep working if he really wished to, but the Intern really wanted to make sure that he was at least doing it in a clean environment. The least they could do while Ian kept hacking away at the rhythm defibrillator was to clean the basement up a touch while he kept working.

Sure enough, the clatter of keyboard typing resumed when the Intern found a vacant bag. They made a silent chuckle to themself and began to scoop up the discarded cans and empty snack bags littered around Ian’s desk.

In the short time they have known Ian and Ada, the Intern found rather quickly that both of them were prone to overworking. They initially had thought that they needed help with their respective jobs, but realized that they had their own systems and everything. In the end, they were the doctors and the Intern was just, well, an intern. It wasn’t that their coworkers had a workaholic mindset, but rather that they were stretched rather thin across the entire hospital and now had even more responsibility than they knew what to do with.

They gently nudged Ian’s seat with a hand, and Ian rolled slightly in the direction the Intern pushed without any comment as he continued to work. This little song and dance they played once the curtain closed on the patient work for the day was beginning to become routine for the both of them, and the Intern was grateful that Ian accepted their help. He had initially been hesitant, and stuttered about how he should clean up the mess that tended to accumulate after he had been coding for a while, but the Intern kept insisting.

Eventually Ian just let them do as they wished. The Intern didn’t bother making it into a whole thing that needed to be paid back. They knew that Ian’s job was especially brutal, having to cater to Doctor Edega’s newest demands. Ada also had to plan out patient care protocol individualized for every new patient they received, and usually greeted every single one personally. The Intern, meanwhile, technically sat in a chair at a desk at home all day, and didn’t really work hard physically while Ada and Ian ran around the hospital. Helping the doctors out in little ways like this made it feel more like they were pulling their weight outside of the Rhythm Doctor program.

Eventually the last crinkled up bag of snack chips was plucked off the floor and put with the rest, and the Intern patted the armrest of the chair twice. Ian rolled back to where he was wordlessly, typing with one hand for a moment to take another sip of water.

.. ... / - .... . / - .-. .- ... .... / ..-. ..- .-.. .-.. ..--..

« Is the trash full? » the Intern tapped on the desk.

“Huh?” Ian mumbled in response, his one-handed typing slowing for a second. “Oh. Yeah, I think it is.”

The Intern nodded, and reached to pull it out from under the desk. Ian made a quiet chuckle in response, and screwed the water bottle closed again as he stretched his hands. “Almost done. I’ll come with you to help Ada out once I’m wrapped up here.”

The overflowing trash bin was emptied in one fell swoop as the Intern pulled the bag out, reaching for one of the desk’s drawers to grab a fresh one. Ian met them halfway with the box of lemon scented trash bags, one poking out for them to take hold of.

“It’s really messed up that…” Ian trailed off, glancing at the stairway for a moment, as if to check for Doctor Edega. Finding nothing but the first plastic bag of cans and snack bags, he continued. “It’s messed up that we have to keep rewriting the whole formula for these rhythm treatments. Like, this system, it’s supposed to be streamlined so it does one thing and does it right.”

The Intern nodded, tying off the full trash bag as they dumped what didn’t fit into the fresh bag that waited to be secured in the bin.

. -.. . --. .- / .... .- ... / - --- / -.-. .... .. .-.. .-.. .-.-.-

« Edega has to chill, » they drummed out against the metal of the trash bin.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Ian sighed, leaning back in his creaky office chair. “I just- gah. I don’t know. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done, and…”

And Ian was shy, and wasn’t quite as receptive to interacting with patients, the Intern thought. Ada’s perfect in a social situation and with her empathy, but she’s not very versed in the code stuff.

In that way, they were a perfect team. One had strengths to pick up where the other lacked. The problem was that they were left to do it alone, minus the Janitor, the Nurse, and themself. It wasn’t sustainable in the slightest.

If one were to fall ill, the other would have to try to pick up the slack, and the other day where the Intern had treated Paige to keep her heart steady throughout the shift was proof of that. Ian hasn’t gotten to the point where he needed to be treated yet, but the Intern already knew it was bound to happen eventually. The poor guy’s been working himself to death as is, and now Doctor Edega and the Connectifia Abortus were involved, which just made it worse.

And now he was pulling what the Intern presumed are all-nighters in order to get everything done.

The Intern’s shoulders slumped as they breathed out a silent sigh, then rose to their feet. Ian seemed to understand, and saved everything he was working on before following suit, taking the water bottle with him.

.. .----. -- / .-- --- .-. .-. .. . -.. / .- -... --- ..- - / .- -.. .-

« I’m worried about Ada, » they tapped with their free hand onto their metallic chest, the other hand tight around the bulky trash bag.

“Me too,” Ian murmured. “She’s been working hard.”

-.-- --- ..- / .... .- ...- . / -... . . -. / - --- --- .-.-.- / .. .----. -- / .-- --- .-. .-. .. . -.. / .- -... --- ..- - / -... --- - .... / --- ..-. / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.-

« You have been too. I’m worried about both of you. »

Ian quieted down at that, trying not to make eye contact with the monitor. He scooped up the other bag before the Intern could, and nudged the door open with his foot. “I- We, well… We’ve all got jobs to do, you know?”

The Intern angled their monitor at him again, a hand on their hip, as if to say ‘really?’.

Ian put his hands up in protest. “I’m just saying! Yeah, it sucks we have to do it pretty much on our own, but it’s what we have to do! I don’t- We don’t really have much of a choice now.”

The Intern shook their head in response, but climbed the stairs after Ian. They still didn’t like that the pressure was put on them, but knew it wasn’t that easy to fix. To really help Ada and Ian, there needed to be more staff, and for there to be more staff, they had to hire, and to even think of hiring, they would have to somehow convince Edega, who already decided that the staff were on their own.

There was always the possibility that he could hire more interns, but then those interns would be worked to the bone, and so on. The cycle would just continue.

They tried not to look like they were moping as they followed Ian out to the first floor’s hallway, bag of trash in hand. The two of them made their way to the dumpster in the back alley behind the hospital, waving to the Janitor as they passed him. He nodded in response, continuing to mop the hospital’s lobby without another word.

Ian sighed as he breathed in the alley’s outside air, then sneezed into his lab coat’s sleeve. “Eugh. Allergies,” he mumbled, scratching his chin as he dragged the trash he had to the dumpster’s closed lid. He opened it with one hand, quickly tossing it in.

The Intern followed suit after signing a quick « bless you, » helping Ian close the lid securely after. They watched as Ian slowly stretched since they were already outside, the doctor groaning to himself as his bones popped.

Poor guy.

Eventually Ian wrapped up and nodded at them that he was ready to move onto the next step of their new routine. Now that Ian’s workspace had been cleaned up and he had taken some time to stretch, it was time to check on Paige and make sure she ate something.

The Intern let Ian lead the way back inside, the both of them getting a bit of hand sanitizer from a dispenser they had set up ahead of time for convenience’s sake. The two of them walked up to Paige’s office, giving the door a knock before making their way inside.

The fireplace crackled away, bathing the room in a cozy warm glow. Ada sat in the armchair, fast asleep with her glasses dangerously close to slipping out of her limp hands. Ian chuckled to himself, shaking his head in an almost affectionate disbelief. “This is the third time this week.”

Ian crossed the distance from the hall and pulled Ada’s glasses out of her hands, careful not to catch her fingers on them. The Intern opened a wide drawer from the cabinet and unfolded a thick woven blanket. They turned to face Ada, tilting their head for a moment as they tried to gauge the best course of action.

.. ... / - .... .- - / .- / .-. . -.-. .-.. .. -. . .-. ..--.. / .. / ..-. --- .-. --. --- - / .-- .... .- - / -.- .. -. -.. / --- ..-. / -.-. .... .- .. .-. / .. - / .. ...

« ...Is that a recliner? I forgot what kind of chair it is, » the Intern admitted, tapping away at their arm as they folded the blanket back in half. Ian set Ada’s glasses safely on her desk. They circled Ada to search for a recliner handle, but found none.

“I don’t think it’s a recliner. You sure we shouldn’t wake her? I doubt she’s eaten anything,” Ian whispered as he went to empty Ada’s trash can for her.

The Intern paused for a moment, before signing something in a manner that was small and close to their chest, as if they were whispering.

“Oh. You sure?”

They nodded.

“Well, I’m sure we can find something close by. Oh, and I found this,” Ian said, pointing to a neck pillow on Ada’s desk. “Might be useful.”

The Intern signed in thanks, spreading the blanket across Ada’s lap before holding their metal hands close to the fireplace. Don’t want to startle her with cold hands, after all… After a brief moment, they gently adjusted Ada’s head to prevent her from slouching over in a painful manner and put the pillow around her neck.

The sleeping doctor made a quiet mumble, leaning into the comfort of the neck pillow. The sight warmed the Intern’s heart.

They could hear Ian step out to get rid of the trash, so for the time being they sat crisscross on the carpeted floor of Paige’s office and listened to the crackle of the fire. They were going over recipes in their head while they waited for Ian to return, trying to think of anything they could make in the microwave for today. There was a fair amount of versatility so long as you had a microwave safe cup, honestly, but part of them wanted to just make something themself with a stove.

Paige mumbled in her sleep, shifting slightly as she almost burrowed herself further into the armchair. The Intern scooted a little closer to adjust the blanket, this time pulling it up to her shoulders and tucking her in. Ada seemed to settle at that, her expression becoming more relaxed as she slept.

Phew. Don’t want her to wake up yet if we can help it.

They stood up and searched for some blank paper, plucking a page from Ada’s printer before scribbling a big “DO NOT DISTURB” on it, then a smaller “doctor Paige is sleeping (signed the intern)” beneath. The only person the Intern could think of that would ignore the sign would be Doctor Edega, but as far as they could tell he had all but packed up and left by now. Regardless, it shouldn’t be a problem. The Intern pulled a piece of tape from Ada’s desk, making a mental note to get her more, and then stuck the paper sign on the outside of her office door.

Now was their chance! The Intern waved to the Janitor to get his attention, and pointed with their thumb to the sign. The man nodded, continuing to mop the hospital lobby. He would keep watch over her office while they stepped out. Now they just needed to be quick.

“You sure she won’t try to kill you for this? You know she doesn’t like to make a whole scene,” Ian said as he finally reunited with them, strolling back to the hallway with a thoughtful look on his face. “Like, I’m sure she’s gonna appreciate it, but-”

« I can handle it if she’s mad, » the Intern signed in response, their posture relaxed. They wished there was an easier way for them to emote to the people at Middlesea Hospital, but their posture would have to do for now. « I’ll be fine! »

“If you say so,” Ian huffed. He peeled his labcoat off and set it behind the vacant information table, reaching for a sweater. “You ready?”

The Intern nodded, pumping their fist once. They marched off towards the hospital’s entrance and set off on their quest.

-💓 -

When Ada woke, she found herself comfortable. What was I doing again..?

She heard a quiet snore from the room. She shifted slightly, realizing her neck pillow had been put on and a thick woven blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

Huh? ... Oh.

Pffft.

Paige already had a feeling who the culprits were, and sure enough, one of them had his head resting on the side of her armchair. Ian sat slumped against the furniture, his lower half covered with a blanket. She could barely spot that Ian had a pillow under his head, though it was poorly angled. Ada snorted quietly to herself, sitting up to adjust his blanket.

She looked around her office, and caught sight of the Intern’s robotic chassis charging in the corner, the monitor on a screensaver that popped the logo of the hospital around the screen. They had a folded paper in their lap, as if they knew she would check on them once she woke.

Hah. Worrywart, Ada thought to herself as she got up to read the note, keeping the blanket curled around her shoulders. Though, I guess I’m one to talk. Glass houses and all that.

She unfurled the paper and read through the Intern’s scribbled handwriting, though she was in half a mind to see if the logo on their screensaver would hit the corner.

“Hi Ada, I know you’ve had a real rough one lately, so I got you something. It’s in the break room fridge. You don’t need to pay me back or anything. I just wanted to help you out. I’ll be back in fifteen if I don’t fall asleep, so I’ll be able to help you carry what I got you home. - Intern”

“Hmm.” Paige squinted at the words for a moment. What would they even need to help her carry?

Oh.

Suddenly Ada remembered the day the Intern had operated on her to keep her heart rate stable. She had mentioned eating dinner from a vending machine again. Did they-

She started walking suddenly, rushing towards the break room. It was something small and relatively insignificant, but Middlesea Hospital staff had their lunches stored away in the fridge. At this late hour, it would usually be empty. Usually.

Paige opened the fridge, trying not to immediately shut her eyes at the fluorescent lights.

Ah crap. I knew it.

Several plastic bags from a corner store filled two drawers of the refrigerator. Paige could spot cartons of milk, fresh fruits and vegetables, and other sorts of perishables she didn’t have at home currently. She just didn’t have the chance to.

A feeling overcame her then, as she squatted and sifted through the bags’ contents, finding items that clearly were a collaboration between Ian and the Intern. She knew she should probably be upset, upset that they went through all this effort for little ol’ Paige, the doctor that wasn’t very helpful in the Rhythm Doctor program, but…

But I feel… happy. Loved. Wanted.

Ada chuckled to herself as she found some snack bags Ian clearly packed, making a mental note to share them with him later. The both of her coworkers were present in every bag, the contents almost a snapshot of who they were. The Intern had packed various different perishables that they likely knew she didn’t have but enjoyed, like the different kinds of fresh fruits she found. Ian most certainly packed all of the more convenient items, like cups of noodles she could add hot water to, and containers of spices to mix into steamed rice. She took a moment to just sort through it all, feeling tears stream down her face and splatter onto her glasses.

Oh- oh, come on, Ada, get it together-

“Ah. Didn’t see anything,” a voice from behind her muttered. Ada whirled around to spot the Janitor awkwardly whistling to himself as he reached for the coffee machine next to the fridge. “I did tell them not to do this without making sure it was fine with you first. But that little friend of yours, they’re persistent, I tell ya.”

She rubbed at her eyes with her labcoat’s sleeve, trying to wipe them clean before she embarrassed herself further. “I-it’s not about the groceries. It’s just, they-”

“Worry too much about you?” The Janitor asked with an eyebrow raised. He detached his mask to take a sip of bitter instant coffee, and sighed deeply. “Sorry to break it to you, Doc, but everyone’s worried about the three of you. Especially for you.”

“Why, because they think I can’t do it on my own..?”

“Because the three of you ARE doing this on your own,” the Janitor drawled out, leaning on the counter. “Yeah, the Nurse and I help out where we can, but we’re not doctors. You know that, right?”

Ada paused, her gaze drifting back down to the bags of food.

“The three of you are working yourselves to death. You already look dead on your feet as is, though you seem a bit better after some sleep. My point being: just… try to take care of yourself, Doc. We only got one Doctor Ada Paige, after all.”

Ada’s lip quivered, but she nodded. The Janitor gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder, and took his coffee with him as he headed back to work. Paige sat there for a moment, letting herself cry in a mix of joy and frustration.

Eventually she stood up again, plucking an apple from a bag before shutting the fridge again. Ada stepped to the sink to rinse off any dirt off the fruit, and, before she had second thoughts, bit into the ripe flesh.

God, I fucking missed fruit. I should’ve asked them to help me sooner.

She could feel the tears starting up again and removed her glasses, laughing quietly to herself. It was a stressful day, and she hadn’t gotten anything substantial to eat, and she had Edega constantly breathing down her back and making her feel like she wasn’t of enough use to the hospital, and-

And now she had this. A gift from her coworkers. No, her friends. Her heart felt like it was swelling as Ada continued to eat her apple, feeling an immense relief in the taste.

It tasted like home. A home she hadn’t been able to get to and properly rest in for however long she had been working now, but it was still home.

.-- .- ... / .. - / - --- --- / -- ..- -.-. .... ..--.. / .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- -.-.--

« Was it too much? I’m sorry! »

Paige yelped, nearly choking on the chunk of apple still in her mouth. The Intern stood in the hallway with a panicked posture, Ian’s sleepy face peeking in behind them.

“I told you, I wasn’t sure she was going to like it,” Ian mumbled, an apologetic look on her face. “Ada, I-” The Intern flailed, as if they were trying to express something in sign language but couldn’t decide on what words to use.

“You two,” Ada drew out, and both of them froze in their tracks. “You two are the fucking sweetest, and I’m hugging you to death.”

“It was their idea I told them it wasn’t- huh?” « I’m so sorry I’ll never do it aga- wuh »

Paige almost sprinted across the break room, pulling the two of them close. Ian yelped, but quickly hugged her back. “I’m so glad- thank you. Both of you. Thanks for this.”

The Intern sort of rested their head on top of Paige’s, wrapping their arms around her and Ian as they did so. She could tell they wanted to say something, but just settled for the silence for now.

Ada breathed out shakily, trying to avoid crying even more than she already had. “Anyway… You got me these, so it’s time for me to pay you back. You’re both coming over for dinner,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

« But- » the Intern began to sign, before Ada put a finger up.

“AND I am getting some of it over to you at home. So no complaining! I’m cooking for the both of you,” Ada said, smiling as she wiped her face again. “So, let’s get hauling. I think I want to make some sort of fruit tart for dessert. Or maybe apple pie.”

Ian laughed, patting the Intern on the back. “You’re lucky it’s not cake. A while back, Ada tried to make a cake for Samurai, and well-”

“Thanks Ian that’s enough if you want to have any pasta,” Paige ground out with a deadly grin. She reached into the fridge and scooped up two of the bags. “Well, I mean, if it was you that packed that bottled pasta sauce. I figured you would want some.”

Ian’s sheepish expression confirmed it, and he took two bags with no further quips. He seemed happy, though, and Ada laughed. The Intern’s posture relaxed, and they signed with a sweeping excitement to their words before picking the rest of the bags up.

The three of them eventually went into the hallway and started to head out. She could spot Nicole watching her as they left with a raised eyebrow, but a thumbs up. Paige tried not to blush as they headed in the direction of the train station, trying to keep her thoughts off of work.

They would all have an even more torturous day ahead of them tomorrow – especially if Edega knew they had collaborated like this to help Paige out. Despite all of it, though, she felt… somewhat excited. She wasn’t going to face any of it alone.

Yeah. I’ll be… where my home is, Ada thought, watching her coworkers settle next to her on the bench as they waited for her train.

I’ll be with them.

[come-down-that-tree]

Prologue Previous

Come Down That Tree! (An aftermare story)

Chapter 17:Ridire ann an armachd nach eil cho soilleir…

Geno woke up from his nap still drowsy. Did he sleep too long? He ate so much lemon bread it was indecent…

He stretched slowly, eye still closed, letting his senses awaken at their own time. There was no rushing a drowsy awakening after all.

The evening sun welcomed him once he finally decided to brave the light.

Ah.

So he did sleep for a while.

A bird landed right next to him, it was blue and white and puffy. It pecked at the ground for a moment, erratic movements carrying the automatic task.

The monster sighed but didn’t move, watching the small thing hop around. Was the life of a bird nice? Not wondering about what you needed to do, only worrying about your next meal and building a place to sleep warm.

The bird thrilled, picked a thin wood stick and flew away.

It rapidly became a tiny speck in the sky, almost indistinguishable from the thing. 

It bore just the right hues to blend in while flying.

Sighing once again, he started on a new task.

Standing up without slipping from tired bones.

One hand came to the ground and pushed, the other followed the bark’s lines while going up. 

He wobbled a bit for a second before adjusting and stretched slowly.

He felt old.

Was he? 

Did the time resetting not spare his soul from the true ache of living? 

Who knew?

Not him.

Now, it was time to assess the situation a bit more.

It was evening. He lifted two fingers towards the sun.

Not that late yet.

Geno turned his head right and left, listening to his surroundings. 

No twins in sight.

He could hear something however.

It danced, light as a feather in the air. 

Music. 

His eye focused on the not-so-distant village at the bottom of the hill. It was coming from downtown.

If he focused more, he could perceive some laughter and shouts and various lights bouncing around.

Something joyful was happening downtown.

Were the guardians down there?

It was unusual for them both to leave simultaneously but it happened a few times. 

Should he go see if they were downtown?

He scolded at the idea, Geno did not want to approach the villagers at a pole distance.

Leaning against the tree, he pondered while observing the fruits above.

He didn’t know when they left so he couldn’t tell if that was alarming yet.

He will wait for now.

Waiting felt second nature to him at this point and just watching and walking around was already pretty entertaining. 

He started studying the bark, counting the nooks and the roots peeking from the ground in places.

For the first time (and wasn’t that shocking it was the first time?), he circled around the tree to look at the back.

He glanced at a bag stuck under an overarching root. That must be their reserve. 

His fingers ran along the imperfections of the massive plant until a bit higher, just above his head, and stopped at a fully collapsed area, forming a deep hole that seemed to go almost all the way through the tree.

It looked almost painful, like something tore it open and it never fully healed.

He noted how it was decorated in so many dried flowers. Flowers that made a pitiful sight, all shrunken and lacking the vivid colors they must have borne once. 

The skeleton brushed a petal that disintegrated under the touch. That hole must have been fully hidden by the colors at one point. Did the twins do that?

He bounced a few times on his feet, thinking, before putting that information in a corner for later.

He went back to the front and stared at the village. If they were there, what could they be doing? Was it a celebration? Distantly, he thought back about gyftmas days in the underground. 

The monster had enjoyed the event in the past. The warm smiles and the thoughtful exchanges.

Was whatever going down there as welcoming as the festive days he had grown used to?

Geno shook his head. He needed to remember there were many humans there and none had proven they deserved his sympathy.

A little voice rang through his skull.

“You believed in Frisk enough to send him back and let them stay with your family. You believed in the surface people enough to let them bond with your people.”

He had too, there were no other options left.

“Is that the truth? Or is that a lie you’re telling yourself?”

Who cared? It wasn’t like he could do anything more now. All he had left was hope.

“What a feeble t-”

He squashed down the voice by focusing back on the missing guardians; they were incredibly bad at their job if they just decided to leave their treasure alone with him for such a long time. 

…Did they trust him that much?

He turned towards the magical fruits, raising his arm to almost touch a rotten looking black apple. It was the ugliest one he could see. 

And reach.

If he wanted to.

He backed away with a step. Betraying their trust like that was unimaginable.

Geno played with his scarf until it fitted proper and snug around his neck. 

Looking at the sky once last time, he concluded it had been far too long and let his feet carry him down his safe spot.

Next destination: the village.

To say the experience was unpleasant would be an understatement. The place was bonded and loud. 

People kept bumping into him.

Seeing so many monsters having fun with humans, seemingly treating each other equally, was incredibly jarring to say the least

Was it like that now in his former world too?

Geno kept his elbows close to his chest, his hands clutching his scarf to avoid making a mistake he would -perhaps- regret next time a running human appeared in his field of view. 

He had frozen for a moment looking at a group of children the size of his human playing with wooden swords. A small pig girl (that stirred a bit at his memories, didn’t he meet her somewhere?) had gotten accidentally hit by the weapon and was now crying on the ground, a blond boy giggling at her distress. 

But before his shaking hands could react, an adult came running, picked the little one up, shushing her softly and asked the boy to apologize. 

The situation now defused, he had willed his legs to carry him farther, not missing a wary glance the parent had thrown his way as he had turned away, shaky.

The monster was not going to last long here. He had to find the twins.

Picking at the different textures on the walls, stands and flowers along the way, he mused about asking around before simply deciding to keep walking until he found them. 

A highly inefficient method, he knew that, but he couldn’t stomach more.

The sky was darkening and the crowd was slowly starting to thin out to his relief. A young jay monster was fretting over the flowers, picking some up and down, grumbling at the damaged ones and marveling at the ones still holding their own. The youngest children were resting in their parents arms nodding off peacefully and the older were enjoying the space by zooming around one last time. An old couple of monsters was waltzing beautifully alone on the grand place, circling peacefully around a white stone fountain while the mismatched orchestra made its last round.

Geno huffed and released his arms, soaking in the softer ambiance. 

That was way better.

And he shouldn’t be able to miss the tell-tale colors of his missing friends now.

A very specific hue caught his attention before disappearing in an alleyway.

There!

He jogged in this direction, dodging obstacles as they came.

Reaching the alley, he followed its path to more and more windling down streets until he stopped, lost.

Pushing his back against a wall, he muttered about his unending bad luck.

“Where could he have gone? I don’t know the way around here…”

Resigning himself he was probably going to look for a while, he started to walk again at a more leisure pace.

He should arrive somewhere following those dirty slabs, he thought.

And he could watch around in the meantime.

He wasn’t even fully sure he saw that golden glint right.

Notes of music still reached him as he trudged farther and farther into that cold maze of stones, broken only by lone doors and closed narrow windows. 

That last song was stretching long. The musicians must have wanted to offer more time to the dashling elderly dancers.

A snickering laughter stopped his musings and made him swerve left at an intersection. He might as well check that.

Figuring the source was right behind the next wall, he cautiously peeked around the corner.

His sliver of soul stilled in his chest.

Nightmare was there, eyes squeezed shut, held up by a tall ursid monster covered in ivy to the mercy of a bloody-nosed human and a raggedy looking purple lagomorph monster.

The three looked young, not fully peeking out of their childhood yet.

But they also seemed ready to hit Nightmare with all they could.

So, Geno didn’t hesitate.

A bone erupted from the wall right next to them.

The shock made the three quiet, not budging at all.

He ignored the teenagers looking at him confused and watched Nightmare’s face scrunching up in confusion before the still-captive tentatively opened his eyes. His exhausted-looking eyes locked into his own and a moment of recognition made some of the tension melt from the other’s body.

Geno whistled to get the group’s attention back and summoned a sharp determination-dripping bone to twirl between his fingers.

“So are you guys gonna scram or do I have to start using these bad boys?”

And just like that, the three left in a hurry, throwing the purple lad in his direction, who he caught easily.

“Scaredy cats, I swear…”

The monster took stock of the other’s injuries: a few scrapes, some torn clothes… Nothing worrying, he concluded.

He picked Nightmare up in his arms.

“Up you go!”

The still dazed skeleton glared at him and weakly pushed his face away.

“Sorry bud, but you’re still shaking and I’d prefer to leave as quickly as possible. I kinda…uh…pierced that wall ya’ know?”

And just like that, they went back to the tree.

Geno carrying Nightmare in silence, Nightmare pointing directions to avoid the main streets.

And just like that, they went back home together.

End of chapter 17! Go to chapter 18?

@dragon-tamer-1 @shinechermont

Geno!Sans belongs to @/loverofpiggies Nightmare, Dream and dreamtale belong to @/jokublog

[theninjamouse]

For the prompt :

“Don’t look down”- Silks!Shorster

“Squeeze my hand”-Shorster

“You remind me of someone”- Shorby OR between Shore and Papyrus, because IMAGINE him saying that to her at some point and she knows she can’t bring up Gaster but what the Fuck?

"Don't Look Down" Silks!Shorester

Warning! This scene could potentially show up in the fic, though it may be a little different, so minor spoilers for Silks and Lightning

You’re not sure why Gaster decided to tag along on the particular run Grillby had given you that evening. As far as runs go, it’s a simple one; take the plain bag to a specific location, find the keypad and drop it inside the container. But here he is, trailing after you as you make your way through the bustling streets. It’s nearing dusk and the evening crowds are in full swing. Checking your watch shows that the drop off spot is close and sure enough, you soon spot the building. It’s not the tallest one but still several stories high and about a block away. Time to get climbing. 

“I thought the whole point of me doing this was so you guys wouldn’t be seen dropping packages,” you say to him as you turn down an alley. Normally, you’d find a pipe to scale, but you’re not sure if Gaster would be able to keep up. The well dressed skeleton doesn’t peg you as one to regularly climb up buildings. There’s a ladder down this particular alley you’ve used before. It’s rusted, far beyond being up to code, but it’s served you before. 

“It’s important for Cinders not to be seen dropping packages,” he replies. “Besides, I’ve been curious about your process for runs for a while now.” 

“Well I can tell you I don’t usually spend this much time on the ground.” Ah there’s the ladder. You stop before it, tightening the straps of the backpack around your waist. You reach out and tug on the metal rung, which makes a grating noise, but holds. “All right then. Ready?”

Gaster’s red eyelights move up, up, up the ladder. “....Sure, why not?” 

That’s a good enough answer for you. You grip the ladder and start to climb. The texture is rough under your hands, rust making some of the edges sharp but compared to your usual ways of scaling buildings via window ledges and drain pipes, this is a cake walk. It’s not long before you reach the top of the building and hoist yourself up and over the ledge.  

Gaster takes a few more moments, moving slower than you. But once his skull pops up, he vaults over the edge with more agility than you would expect. He brushes his hands off, casually striding forward.

Alrighty then. 

The crossing is easier than most; down here, many of the buildings are so squished together it’s an easy process to either take the short jump down to the next building, or hoist yourself up when met with a higher wall. Gaster keeps up through it all, though he is oddly quiet. Focusing maybe. 

The first actual gap between the buildings comes up right as the lights of the city begin to overtake the fading violet of sunset. The rooftop you actually need is still one building down. You peer over the edge, the orange glow from the streets washing over your skin. A solid fall down but the distance across can’t be more than eight feet or so. A jump, but not the worst one you’ve made. Even better, there’s no lip to the roof, so you can give yourself a running start. 

Gaster makes a noise like clearing his throat. “So how do we get over this?” 

“We jump.” 

“....Right.” 

You glance at him. The lights in his eyes have shrunk to little pricks. Ah. “Not a heights guy?” 

He takes a long, deep breath. “Not anymore it seems.” 

There’s a flick of annoyance, tinged with pity. He had to know what he was getting into, following you up onto the rooftop, but even you understand that sometimes the vertigo of standing so far above the ground can seize you no matter how prepared you are. You could just tell him to wait here, but you don’t like to backtrack, just in case something is following.

“Hang on a sec,” you mutter, unbuckling your backpack and kneeling down. A quick dig and you’ve got the silver safety rope you keep on hand for emergencies. You look up at him, holding it up. “You can either go back, or I can use this to tether you to me. Which do you want to do?” 

It takes a him a moment to answer, with a visible effort to drag his eyes away from the glow of the street below. He blinks at your offer. “What if I were to fall?” 

“I’d catch you, duh.” You grin at him, hoping it helps to sooth the tightening anxiety you see around his sockets. “You’re a pain but I’m not gonna let you splat. Can you imagine the clean up?” 

There’s an odd expression on his face now. A grin, but one a little unsettlingly manic. “It’s quite the mess indeed.” 

You stand and gesture him close. “I’m guessing you’ve had a bad fall then,” you muse as you wrap the end of the rope around his waist a few times. Despite being a skeleton, there’s a little bit of mass to him, rather than just the space of an empty spine. Even so, he’s very thin and you give it a few extra loops to make sure it’s secure.

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he chuckles and lifts his brow. “You know your way around knots. Tie people up often?” 

You tug sharply on the rope, making him gasp quietly. “Don’t be gross or I will let you drop.” 

“Merely an observation,” he says mildly as you step back. He tugs on the rope himself as you swiftly wrap the other end around yourself and tie it up with a bowline knot before returning your backpack to it's place. 

“I’m a silks artist; of course I know knots. Can’t have the whole thing crashing down when I’m in the air. Now, are you going to keep stalling, or are we jumping?” 

He takes a deep breath, stepping to the side.

You gather up enough of the line to give yourself some slack, take a few steps back before bouncing on your heels. A moment of judging distance and then you run, feet tapping lightly on the rooftop before you give yourself a mighty push right on the edge. You sail forward, that terrifying weightlessness bringing the brightest grin to your face and then you’re on the other side, skipping forward with momentum. 

You spin, the adrenaline pumping blood through your veins like fire. “See!” You call over. “It’s just a leap, easy peasy!” 

Gaster’s sockets are wide, both hands clutching the rope. He cautiously edges forward, stare dropping to look at the five story drop. His skull is painted in the flickering light, like fire upon a stone.

“Hey.” You tug very lightly on the rope and he starts, head jerking up. “Don’t look down. Just look at me. I won’t let you fall.” 

He blinks once. Twice. He mutters something in that weird, glitchy language before he backs up and starts running. You brace yourself, arms lifting to catch him. He clears the gap easy and you grab him as he yelps and pitches forward. His fingers instinctively cling to you, gasping sharply.

You pat his back. “There you go! Not so bad, was it?” 

His laugh is strained. “I never want to do that again.” 

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna have to after the drop.” 

“....Stars damn it.” He’s still clinging to you. 

“Each time it gets easier, promise.” You let him cling. 

He lifts his skull, looking out over the city. It’s fully dark now and it glistens and sparkles with a magic all it’s own. “Well…I suppose the view is worth the terror.”

You follow his gaze. “It’s one of the reasons I do it,” you mutter. “Helps to clear your head, being up above it all.” 

“And you’re not scared of the fall?” 

“It’s not the fall I’m scared of.” It’s the landing. Returning back to reality. Up here, the problems are distant. 

Though, perhaps not so distant tonight. One of them is holding you, the grip now gentle. 

He smells nice. The thought hits you randomly, making the slow creep of color start up your face. “We gotta drop this,” you say loudly, clearing your throat and stepping back. “C’mon, plenty of time to enjoy the view later.” 

He releases you slowly and follows as you hurry your way over the rooftop.

[bandit-prince]

“So, you know why I’m here now, if you don’t mind me asking for a change, what drew you here?”

Aries was leaned against the wall of his train car, casually sharpening a knife as if it were the easiest thing in the world; but his eyes hadn’t left his..friend? Was that the right word? It felt weird to call someone a friend, and actually mean it again. But, despite everything, Gene had proven to be vaguely trustworthy and much more than reliable. He hadn’t expected much when the Ghoul had first arrived at Big Bend, and yet, after doing several caravan runs together, they’d gotten pretty close. Not to mention, it had been Gene who, albeit on accident, had fixed the problem Aries had once created.

“What, me? Why I’m here? You sure you wanna know? It’s not nearly as entertaining as your story.” Gene was slouched over at the entrance of the train car, leaned against the jammed open door with an empty Jet inhaler held loosely in one hand.

Those big, brown eyes look over at Aries, a mixture of curiosity and..was that a hint of fear?

“Sure, I’d love to hear if you’re willing to share. ‘Course, you don’t gotta. Trust me, I know all about skeletons and closets. Literally, almost.”

“Well, mine is more literal. I’ve killed people, Aries. And not just to defend myself either.” Gene goes quiet for a moment, chasing the empty inhaler between his fingers for a while before trying to continue.

“My family and me, we all lived up near Flatwoods. Dad was a doctor, mom was a an ex-military liaison. I had a sister, she was only six at the time. Dad had gotten us all access to the Vault, calling in some favors from a few of his past patients, but, when the time came, they didn’t have room for all of us.”

He stops, raising the inhaler to his lips and pulling on the button desperately, but when none of the familiarly awful tasting air touched his tongue, he sighs, throwing it aside.

“They were just going to leave her there to die. Said they didn’t have any room for kids. I made them take her instead of me.”

Aries chews at his scarred lips under the gas mask, listening intently to the ghoul’s story.

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked, but with the way it was all tumbling out of Gene’s mouth now, it was obvious he needed to get it off his chest.

Slowly, he shifts off the wall, sitting down next to the ghoul, relishing the feeling of the warm sunshine brushing against his mask.

“That was very good of you. Can’t say I’d have done the same, though…I don’t know. it’s hard to say unless you’ve been there. But, I’m a bit more selfish than you are, heh.”

“I don’t know if I’d have done it now. If I could go back in time and change things..I don’t know. But, anyways. That’s not the point. I wasn’t drawn here by some secret treasure, or caravan work, or even raids. I was born here, raised here, and..for all intents and purposes, died here too. The Gene she knew, that my parents knew, he’s long dead.”

He takes a breath, deep and long, before finally rummaging in his bag and pulling out a deep brown bottle from it, and handing it to Aries. “Cheers.” He murmurs, decidedly uncheerfully.

“I met up with some old friends after the bombs fell. We were all desperate, and scared as shit. Military came through town a week later, killed a lot of innocent people to get their supplies. So, we decided if they could do it and be justified, we could too.”

A growl ripped itself from Aries’ throat, and the guard coughs hard for a few moments, trying to catch his breath. “God. I’m so sorry. That must have been awful to see. I can’t believe they’d do something like that.”

“Me neither. But, it happened. Anyways, we left Flatwoods soon after that, headed on down to Charleston and then into the Monongahela Forest, figured it’d be the safest place to lay low for awhile.”

The masked guard nods, opening up the bottle, and pouring a shot into a nearby glass, handing it over to Gene as the ghoul continues the story.

“From there, we met up with some other survivors. We all joined up, and..well..maybe created the first Raider faction in West Virginia. Things were great for a few years. We built up a huge fortress in the depths of the woods, had it automated and everything. But, there was one thing I wasn’t counting on.”

Once again, Gene stops in his story to sip at his drink; face wrinkling up at the bitter taste, but he slams it back nonetheless.

“Goddamn Blood Eagles. They were so well organized and ruthless, everyone else wanted to join them. I was the only one who didn’t.”

“Yeesh. And I bet they didn’t want to let you leave in one piece, either, right?” Aries had lifted his mask up a bit halfway through this spiel, lighting up a cigarette and taking a deep breath. “Blood thirsty motherfuckers. I’d say they’re worse than a Sheepsquatch, but, I dunno, I’ve never had a Blood Eagle successfully remove my face before.” He chuckles a little, and Gene smiles just a bit, at the edges of his mouth.

“Bloodthirsty is for sure. And absolutely relentless. Alice, she shot me. She was my best friend. Left me to die in some shit hole junkyard, surrounded by nuclear waste. Reckon they figured if the bullet hadn’t killed me, the radiation would. But, reluctantly, I lived.”

Gene sighs, long and hard as Aries sat next to him once more. It was a beautiful morning, the sunrise just now peaking out over the mountains. Absently, almost as if he were being pulled to him by an invisible string, Gene laid his head again Aries’ shoulder, and the contentment that washed over him was enough to well up tears in the ghoul’s eyes.

“I didn’t know what to do when I woke up. I wandered for years, robbing the poor assholes that got in my way or that let their guards down. And..then I just happened to meet a trading caravan up towards the Wayward. They told me about the caravan company that had come through, and was setting up shop down here. So, I set off.”

An arm was holding Gene close now; no words about the matter had been exchanged, and yet it felt like the most natural thing in the whole world. “It wasn’t long after that, that I met Ishmael. Figured a Vaulty would need a guide. Maybe, at first, I thought I could get something out of her. But, I couldn’t do that now. She’s like a sister to me, almost, even if she is short a few brain cells.” He chuckles to himself, and Aries snorts, shaking his head.

“Aw come on, she’s very smart and you know it.”

“Yeah, smart, but no common sense. But, that’s what I’m for I reckon.”

“If common sense is what we kept you around for, Vinny would have died of a heart attack by now.” That half revealed face was grinning, those horrible scars taught, but at the moment giving Aries no real trouble.

“Yeah..well, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

Their faces were inches apart, Gene could feel the ragged breaths brushing against his cheek as they both spoke, and for a moment, just a moment, he allowed himself to think of what he’d like to do to that pretty face.

And yet, before he could react, almost like Aries had read his mind, the guard was leaning in a bit closer. “You know, I think rather a lot of you.”

“Yeah? Even after hearing all that?”

“Heh. Like I have room to judge. Agent of chaos, remember?”

For the moment, nothing else mattered. All that existed was Aries’ scarred lips and his breath and his arm wrapped around Gene’s shoulders.

[lorepumpkin]

Lore Asgard: Chapter 6 - Conspiracy (Snippet)

“OOF!” Loki’s face landed onto the hard cold floor of the room as he was thrown from the jaws of Garm, of which walked inside not long after, walking past the god of mischief.

It took Loki a second before he put a hand on the floor and pushed himself up. “Was it...really that necessary?” He looked at the wolf as he dusts off his clothing.

Garm responded with a simple grunt, a swift lick on its muzzle, touching the exposed bone of its teared away and decomposed skin.

“If it were up to me, Garm would be eating your corpse the moment you stepped in here.” A voice colder than all of Hel spoke, the booming sound of it echoed hauntingly in the room.

Loki could feel his blood run colder than usual and a shiver running down his spine from the familiarity of the voice. He knew the source — it’s been ages since he last heard her voice, but he knew it, felt it deep in his (non-existent) soul and beyond.

He took a deep breath before his face could soften, turning around to see the Ruler of the Dead herself.

She sat on her throne of crystallized ice and twisted gold; draped in white furs that covered most of her black thick-fabric clothing and a silver crown worn on the top of her head with the hagalaz rune twisted onto it with a darker metal. Her blunt cut with bangs were flowing despite the windless room, hair — just like her body — were split in colours. From Loki’s left her skin was cool and dark with blush-like markings, her eye a soft brown and half of her hair a pastel blue. And from his right her skin was a very pale cyan colour and skeleton-like with bags under her eyes — which her sclera was black and her iris an almost-white-cyan colour — and the other half of her hair black.

Despite how clearly she wasn’t pleased with Loki’s presence given her cold harsh glare, his mouth moved into a nervous fake smile. “Hel, it has been so long—”

“Enough of the pathetic efforts of sweet-talking your way out of this.” She spat with venom in her voice, jaw clenching with irritation. “What is your purpose here Laufeyson?”

(Expected Date for release: Late May or Early/Mid June)

[24-7fandombrain]

I've had this idea for a while now and figured I might as well post it.

Gov walks into his office one day, exhausted by the particularly long day, to see someone sitting in his chair. This isn't particularly new to him, a lot of the states liked to play with him by doing that, but this... thing wasn't a state.

He looks like Gov, but there are enough differences that you can tell the two apart. Gone are the bags under Gov's eyes, the lingering smell of coffee, the wrinkles he can never get out of his suit. This man wears a pitch black suit so clean and finely pressed it looks brand new. His leather shoes glimmer in the receding sunlight that slips in through the window. He is lounging back in Gov's chair, his feet up on the desk. Golden fingertips hold a bronze statue of an eagle, and fathomless dark eyes stare distastefully down at it. His features are more gaunt and pointed than Gov's, his cheekbones high and arched, his jawline sharper and pointed. In the right lighting, this is to his benefit. He is attractive, more so than Gov could ever hope to be.

Gov recognizes him in an instant.

"You," Gov says, his voice shaking even as he tries to keep himself authoritative. Gov locks the door behind him so that no one could come in and see this. The thing in the chair looks up, as if just barely noticing Gov's presence, and grins.

God, how Gov hates that grin. It's that kind of smile that looks inviting but dangerous at the same time, that draws you in when you know you should run away. It was such a smile that lured Gov in the first time, and he had never grown strong against it.

"My dearest Gov," the thing says as it swings its legs off of the desk, "it's been too long."

"You promised that you would stay away," Gov says. He tries to keep the fear from slipping into his voice, with little success. The thing just laughs, shaking his head as he eyes Gov.

"My friend," he says, "I never truly left. Perhaps I've not been graced with a physical visit to you for several years, but I am always with you."

"What do you mean?" Gov considers just running, but he knows he can't let this thing out of his sight. Even more so than Florida, Gov didn't trust HIM alone.

The thing slowly rises to his feet. His hands wave as he talks, and Gov can't help but be distracted by the glint of the gold-tinted fingers of the thing's left hand as they flash in the sunlight.

"Did you really think I was content to leave you, my favorite disciple? No. I have been with you every second of every day since we last exchanged words. I am the voice whispering in your ear to seek. I am the hand that urges you to grab. I am your bitter thoughts as you look out over a modern world. I am the boot urging you to press down further against a neck. I am every temptation to ignore your sworn duty, every promise left unfulfilled, every pocket lined and rule broken."

The thing snapped his glittering hand, and Gov jumped. The thing chuckled.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" he hums. The thing reaches out towards Gov, and Gov shivers as he anticipates the brush of the strangely cold skin against his own, but the thing instead opts to fix Gov's tie, straightening it and pulling it tighter.

"Shadow," Gov forces out in a quick breath. Shadow grins at his name. "What do you want?"

"What do I ever want, my friend?" Shadow says. He leans forward, and darkness falls across his face. He's taller than Gov, much taller, so Gov has to crane his head back to meet Shadow's eyes. He really doesn't want to, but he wants to show weakness even less.

The way the light cascades around Shadow's head makes his face suddenly lose its attractive qualities. His face looks much more like a skull this way, eyes sunken, deep shadows undercutting his protruding skeleton. He looked much more like a fallen angel, like Death himself, come to claim Gov and drag him down into the underworld.

"I want to make a deal."

(I'll make another post going more in detail later)

[crybaby-and-hoo-ha]

Attack 5

Chapter 1

Max Zenith was about to have the most stressful interview of his life. Sure, his father had taught him how to use a shotgun at the ripe age of six, but it was either he makes it or breaks it. His previous job, a small bakery, had gotten shut down because he couldn't afford the rent and now he was forced to nab the first job he could find. A mercenary.

As he sat in the small and rather humid waiting room, his brain was in a state of stress and anticipation as his leg bounced up and down. He fidgeted with his tie and tried to slow his breathing while slowing his brain down simultaneously.

"This was a horrible idea. I should've never done this. Wait, no, if I didn't I'd die on the streets. I still hate it. Ugh! Just shut up, brain!" He murmured to himself as his white button up felt increasingly more suffocating. His hands were clammy, his heart was beating out of his chest, and he was absently pinching himself in a futile attempt to wake himself up from whatever nightmare this must've been when suddenly, his attention snapped up to a tired man in the doorway. He had dark black hair that was combed back with gel, a cheap black suit with a bright red tie, and bags under his eyes. His face was cold and hard, and void of any emotion.

"Max Zenith? It's time for your interview. Right this way please" The man had a refined cockney accent and spoke in a tone that was similar to an irritated professor. He waited for him to stand up before making a gesture for Max to follow suit. Max's knees were shaking and felt like jello. He felt queasy and fidgety as if his skin was too tight for his skeleton. As the black haired man led him to the office, Max's mind filled with doubts before he sat down in front of the desk.

The office was a gray and sunny room, facing out towards the city with a dark mahogany desk in the center and a few awards and certificates hung upon the walls, proudly displaying high ranking achievements.

"Oh boy" Max thought as his foot tapped anxiously against the carpet floor. "This guy's the real deal"

"So, you went to Stanford, huh?" Max asked, his voice wavering slightly.

"No, that was my father. After he died he passed the company onto me," The black haired man said, his tone stoic and almost impossible to read. "Anyways, let's get on with the interview, shall we?"

Max nodded and took a deep breath.

"So, Max, my name is Jimmy Brookes. This interview will be simple. Nice and easy. Okay? Can you shoot a gun?" Jimmy asked bluntly, not even flinching when he asked the absurd question.

"I...Yes?" Max replied, confusion written all over his face. The question took him by surprise due to its upfront nature.

"Great, you're hired." Jimmy said while clasping his hands together and standing up. "Here's a file of all the things you'll need. You'll start on Monday, 7 AM,"

"Wait wait wait wait. That's it? That's the whole interview? There must be something else or-" Max was interrupted by Jimmy placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"No. That was it, Maxwell. You start on Monday where you'll meet your other colleges. I must warn you though, they are a bit...strange..." Jimmy murmured while slowly escorting Max towards the door. "I'll see you on Monday, Max. Good bye."

The door shut hastily in Max's face. He was stunned, confused, and shocked all at the same time. There was still adrenaline rushing through him as he walked towards the elevator.

---

As Max trudged through the chilly and snowy streets of New York, the cream yellow file in his hand, he pondered and mulled over the rather abnormal interview.

"Why would I need a gun? Wait, why would I need this job again? Oh yeah, I have seven dollars and half of a rubber duck to my name." He wondered to himself anxiously. His feet were freezing while he shuffled along, clutching the file in his pale, cold hands. "Well, at least I have a job now"

He slowed to a stop in front of his apartment complex and pushed open the glass door. A gust of warmth hit him and he sighed softly as he climbed up the stairs to his apartment. He fumbled with his keys before sliding them into the door and turning them with a satisfying click. The door swung open with a loud squeak and Max stepped into the baron apartment. Without having a job, he was forced to sell all of his belongings for a temporary solution.

It was a small and cheap studio apartment with white walls and a dirty mattress in the corner along with a cheap, rundown mini fridge he got from a garage sale. It looked more like a prison cell than an apartment.

He flopped down onto the mattress with a huff and opened the file, only to find a pictorial recipe for egg salad.

"What the...huh?? What the hell is this?!" Max exclaimed, irritation and confusion laced in his tone. "Is this some kind of joke?!"

He sighed and threw the file across the room, the paper making a soft "fwish" sound as it skidded across the hardwood floor.

"You know what? Fine. I'll go on Monday, maybe it was a mix up," Max muttered, pulling the thin blanket over him in an attempt to try to get some shut eye.

---

The next two days were a blur. Max would wake up, get some coffee he could barely afford, and go to the store to buy baking ingredients. Even though he was near bankruptcy, he still enjoyed baking. By the time Monday had rolled around he had made at least three dozen cookies from stress baking.

To say the walk to the Agency was stressful would be a huge understatement. Max was sweating even in the chilly January breeze and his hands were shaking.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. You know what? I've got this. I've totally got th- What am I saying, no I don't," Max whispered to himself under his breath. He sighed and pushed the door open and made a beeline straight to the elevator.