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labrxnth · 9 months

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Prison Break- Part 2 (Leon Kennedy x Reader series)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

CW: Death Island spoilers (obviously), suicidal thoughts/tendencies

WC: 1858

Summary: You and your field partner Leon continue your search for Doctor Antonio Taylor on Alcatraz

A/N: Sorry This was late, I had a busy schedule and major writer’s block

The first thing you noticed about the harbor is that it smelled like salt. Saltiness and almost a tackiness filled the air as you looked out of the rolled down window. Your hand traced circles on the car seat absentmindedly as you watched the boats and people the car was speeding past.

“What’re you thinking?” Leon asked, his hand drifting dangerously close to yours. When he got to an inch away, he stopped, his hand giving a deadly space between the two. If you were paying full attention, it would’ve made you upset, but for some reason this mission really wasn’t sitting right with you.

Call it survivor’s gut or intuition, but this mission was sitting funky in your stomach.

You took a deep breath and turned your head to face your partner. “I don’t like this… Maria being involved with Taylor means that someone like Arias wants a robotics engineer,” You answered and shifted a bit in your seat.

“I don’t like it either,” Leon replied. The two of you were always good at having each other’s back and making the other one feel validated. That was your whole friendship, being the person that each other needed.

You were the person Leon needed after, well, everything he had gone through. Raccoon City, Project Javier, Los Illuminados and Simmons were hard for him to shoulder alone. His life felt like a dark and foggy hallway, a trail of blood and cynicism following him. But in the midst of everything, you were a light. You were with him through everything for the past few years, carrying a candle filled with your aura that scared off the darkness and the fog in his hallway.

You were the one person who hadn’t run away or died, and he’d like to keep it that way.

He was the one person he hadn’t run away or died, and you would like to keep it that way.

Leon S. Kennedy was an enigma to you when you first started working for the D.S.O. under recommendation from Hunnigan. Through the past few years of working together, the two of you started out as drinking buddies then quickly became actual friends. It was over for you when you looked into his eyes and saw who he truly was for the first time. The mission in New York, the summit, the look on Leon’s face were all seared into your mind. His blue eyes tossing your heart just like a human thrown overboard into a vast ocean.

But you were convinced the look he gave you that night was just for your façade; the role the two of you played. If you never spoke life into your feelings, he never had to reject you.

“You’re doing it again,” Leon’s voice cut through your memories; bringing you back to the streets of San Francisco and dragging you away from the dinner party in New York.

“Huh?” You asked, blinking a few times, trying to adjust to the setting Sun in your eyes.

“Getting lost in that big head of yours,” He replied and chuckled lightly. “You do that more lately…. Ever since that mission in NYC.” His eyes looked at you, almost as if searching for an answer for an unasked question.

“I’ve just been thinking about things,” You said, trying to pass it off as nothing.

“Thinking about…..?” Leon asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Life stuff… like if fighting half dead people and gross science experiments is gonna be the rest of my life,” you said, making an excuse. You didn’t like to lie to Leon, but this one thing you made an exception for. And it was true, sometimes you did think about how your life has taken a turn after college.

Leon hummed in response, looking out his own window. The autumnal setting sun reflected in his eyes and hair, making his irises shine like diamonds and his hair shining a dirty blonde in the rays. When the sun hit him, it was a reminder of who he was, the dirty blonde hair and full blue eyes that he had that night in Raccoon City. He thought that Rookie Cop died that day, but maybe all he needed was a constant sun in his life; someone who brought his hope back.

“Don’t start thinking about that stuff, it’ll drag you down,” he warned. “Trust me.” His voice had an edge to it that you had only heard a few times before. The edge that reflected a tinge of sadness, but resilience.

The car stopped at the dock, you and Leon getting out of the Uber and taking in your surroundings. To the public, the only way to get to Alcatraz was a ferry tour, but luckily the two of you could call in a few favors and pull a few strings.

“Follow me, the boat should be at the Marina.” Leon said. He walked in front of you, making his way towards the docks. With no other option, you walked with him, trying not to look at how his blue shirt hugged his biceps a little too well.

The two of you quickly made your way towards a boat with a big branded D.S.O. logo on it.

“Couldn’t have been more covert?” You asked flatly.

“Gotta warn them before we blow their shit up,” Leon said, half joking. He got in the boat, slinging his duffle bag off his shoulder and putting it on a seat. You climbed on after him and looked around the small speed boat.

“You sure this thing has ballistics?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s American, it can blow something up as long as you try hard enough,” He replied with his shit-eating grin. You chuckled in reply and got into the seat next to him, giving him the chance to drive for once. Leon noticed you not fighting for the wheel and he took the opportunity to start the boat and pull out of the Marina.

“So, (Y/n),” He said, putting the boat in drive and starting to steer to Alcatraz. “I’ve been thinking…” He added.

“That’s never a good thing,” You said snarkily and chuckled a bit.

“Very funny,” Leon said and rolled his eyes.

“But for real, what’s up?” You asked and looked at him. He was really focusing on what to say with how much his eyebrows were knitted and the lines next to his eyes were visible.

“It’s bad timing… we can talk about it later,” he said and looked at you, smiling.

You shrugged, thinking nothing of it. The sun setting over the bay was beautiful, it being the only thing that could peel your attention away from Leon. Your eyes tracked the sun, squinting slightly at how bright it was, but smiling at how the waves reflected the red and orange haze it was.

You went to say something to Leon and saw the same look in his face that you’d only seen once before. Amidst fancy clothes, cocktails, and fake friendships, was Leon’s face having the same look as he did now.

It was gone when he realized your eyes had met his. In a blink of an eye, he was back to his normal, scanning the area with a neutral facial expression.

Leon parked the boat at the back of the island and the two of you put on your combat gear: vests, harnesses, etc. once you two were ready to go, you were getting out of the boat and heading towards a tunnel opening.

“Munitions tunnel, should get us in,” You said and nodded towards it. Leon nodded in response and followed you into the tunnel. Eventually, the tunnel opened up to sewers, you two finally being able to fully stand up.

You turned to Leon to say something when you heard a loud BANG! The two of you locked eyes and your handguns were both drawn, aimed towards the other end of the sewers where the explosion came from.

After walking forwards a bit, the sewer split two ways, one to your left and one ahead. The sewers were set up on a block system, like a city.

“I’ll go forward, you go left,” Leon said and turned his ear com on. You nodded, copying his movements and doing the same.

The two of you gave each other a nod and separated hesitantly. Whenever the two of you separated, things never went well. Understandably, it was a necessity, but it still never went well.

You turned your flashlight on and walked to the left, then down the hallway. The light illuminated the tunnel and the sinking feeling you had gotten earlier hadn’t gone away. With Leon gone, it got more prominent.

Your boots hit the cobblestone, echoing with each footstep. Looking around, you were finding absolutely nothing. Out of the corner of your eye, the flash light reflected off of something metallic. You turned towards where the shimmer had come from and found an indented doorknob.

Silently, your hand opened the door and you slipped through it, closing it just as quietly as you opened it. Overhead lights turned on and revealed you to be in a hallway. Holding your gun up, supported by your flash light, you kept on forward.

The door at the other end of the hallway was open, revealing a more open hallway. As you walked, a small electronic buzz hit your ears as you saw one of the security cameras move.

“(Y/n), (L/n) how interesting,” A voice over the PA system said. You swiveled around, your gun up, staying silent.

A sharp pain hit the back of your neck and your hand shot to where the pain was coming from, feeling nothing unusual. Your eyelids fluttered shut as the world went dark and your knees buckled, sending your body falling towards the floor.

“At least you’ll bring me Leon Kennedy.” The voice added.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Leon marched on forward, trying to keep his head in the mission. Usually, he was good at compartmentalizing and having a one track mind for the mission. That was, until you became his partner; even now, he was worried about how you were faring.

He knew you could handle yourself, but still he worried about you. He didn’t want you getting hurt, or worse, like everyone else in his life.

Leon heard the sound of boots hitting the cobblestone path in front of him and held his gun up, ready to shoot. He rounded the corner and the barrel of his gun got grabbed, sending him into a sprawl. Him and the other person he was fighting with were both trying not to wind up in the sewer water, dangerously close to their feet.

After a few seconds of exchanges, Leon recognized the familiar brown color of hair he was fighting. His eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and he took in the bigger picture, seeing an all too familiar face. The two of them backed off of each other and took the other in.

“Well, if it isn’t Jill Valentine.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch it early on my A03!

#resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction

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sapphire-weapon · 8 months

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I've been thinking about this for the past few days, and one of the things that really bothers me about the whole "age gap" discourse re: EagleOne is that, by buying into it, you automatically erase a huge part of Leon's character.

Leon might have been on the planet for 27 years, but he still has the maturity of a 21 year old.

After Raccoon City, Leon basically falls out of time and space. He's all but completely removed from society and has his growth as an adult completely stunted by the CIA.

It isn't as though he's spent the last six years gaining practical wisdom and real-world life experience that puts him at some sort of advantage over Ashley and makes any relationship between them cunningly manipulative on Leon's part.

Leon wasn't out dating and socializing and learning the ways of the world and growing alongside heartbreaks and disappointments and setbacks and victories and achievements. Leon has spent the last six years locked in a room with Jack fucking Krauser and getting the shit beat out of him -- that is, when he wasn't being sent off to active war zones.

Like -- do people even realize the actual depths of what Leon's training entailed? Krauser wasn't just a sparring partner teaching him about edged blade combat. Leon was actually literally tortured in the most literal dictionary definition of the word. He had to be, in case he was ever caught and tortured by the enemy -- he had to be trained on how to take it and not crack.

Leon not actually being in STRATCOM is actually really important to his character. He wasn't sitting in a war room digging through intel and pursuing active leads in an investigation against Umbrella. Prior to the formation of the DSO, he was a military combat unit -- the most elite one that the US government has ever produced. He is a weapon in every sense of the word. He's probably had to go through boot camp with both Navy SEALs and Army Green Berets and then some.

Basically, Leon was an experiment conducted by the US government to see if it was possible to create a soldier capable of wiping out entire military units on his own (which is, incidentally, probably the how and why behind his involvement in Remake's version of Operation Javier. He was chosen to be sent in after Krauser's unit was wiped out for a reason.). He probably wasn't the only one to have been put through this gauntlet during this experiment, but he was the only one who made it through to the other side. He's an anomaly; he's the exception that proves the rule.

None of that is conducive to fostering his growth as an adult or as a human being -- and that was exactly the point. The idea was probably to try to strip him of as much of his humanity as possible in order to create a weapon who would mindlessly follow orders and never question the hows or whys. This is also probably why his "softness" was a huge point of contention for Krauser, who knew exactly what the intentions for Leon actually were. After all, he knew Leon's potential better than anyone.

That's why Leon is so stoic and serious and almost joyless at the start of RE4make. He hasn't lived as a human being living among other human beings in six years; he's been forged into a weapon instead. The last time that he felt like and acted like and lived like a person was when he was 21. He hasn't grown past that point.

That's why his reaction to and treatment of Ada is so goddamn immature.

And it's also why it's such a big deal when Ashley gets that first smile out of him. When Ashley brings out the sides of Leon that we haven't seen since early-to-mid RE2make, she's returning pieces of his humanity to him.

The government had Leon convinced that he wasn't the same person anymore -- that the kind-hearted guy who went into law enforcement out of a genuine desire to help and protect people was dead -- because he's been in an echo chamber and having that idea reinforced to him over and over and over again. Ada saw right through it and knew that the old Leon was still alive in there. And Ashley brought him to the surface and gave him a second chance at life.

On paper, Leon and Ashley have a seven year age gap. In practice and reality, there's only one year separating them. Ashley is 20, and Leon is still only 21.

Anyone who crows about an age gap between Leon and Ashley is outing themselves as someone who doesn't understand Leon's character at all and can be safely and thoroughly ignored.

#resident evil 4 #leon kennedy #eagleone #meta analysis

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msermesth · 10 months

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Kinda obsessed with this idea of post-Endgame Steve as one of Charles and Erik's handlers during First Class. He's not Moira, and definitly not CIA, but maybe some other agency? Possibly SHIELD related? He's been investigating Shaw in case he had any connection to Red Skull and somehow ends up being a part of the group that reaches out to Charles.

At first, I couldn't find anything interesting narratively with this because Charles would know immediately he's Captain America, right? Except now I'm convinced Charles would think Steve is INSANE. It's not the Captain America thing, though in context Charles doubts that. It's the fact that when Charles reads his mind, he finds out that Steve thinks he's from the future. And that he's fought aliens. And that he thinks he's friends with the God of Thunder. And oh wait, he's been to space. And worked with a fucking talking raccoon.

This man must be crazy and somehow he has the power of the government behind him.

Steve, on the other hand, is going by an alias and has only shared his past with a few choice people, often omitting the more unbelievable details. He's tried to be open with Peggy, but once he made a joke while they were in a park about not taking the time to learn Groot when he had a chance and she regarded him with such skepticism that he's kept most of the rest to himself.

He's beyond excited to get to work with the mutants, and despite the fact that he's pretty sure there weren't mutants in his own timeline (he would know!) he believes in them with all his heart. He feels especially kindred to Charles with all his rhetoric about using his gifts to help humanity. He adores Hank and his big brain. He's compelled by Erik's single-minded determination. He throws himself into the mission to find Shaw with his own special brand of stoic enthusiasm by researching mutation and running theories past Charles and Erik whenever he sees him.

Charles, at first, ignores these theories but slowly comes to the conclusion that this man is at least somewhat intelligent. He could be useful. And then Steve's the reason no one gets hurt when Shaw attacks the CIA compound, so Charles is willing to accept this guy might actually be Captain America incognito.

(But everything else must not be true. He's still crazy. Maybe all that experimentation fried his brain.)

Charles shares his thoughts with Erik, who cares less about the insanity angle and more about the fact that this man looks like he can actually protect people. He's glad there's at least one other person who can hold his own in hand-to-hand fighting. So what if Steve thinks he's close with the king of Wakanda? At least he's useful.

After the attack, Steve supports moving the team to Westchester. He doesn't trust the CIA and well, he's partial to the idea of a rich guy giving a bunch of misfits a home. He's also a little startled to discover that the very real possibility of nuclear war sparks something in him. Not excitement, definitely not that. But something closer to clarity. It's been almost twenty years since he's faced an annihilation-level threat. He, unfortunately, feels at home under end-of-the-world pressure.

So he helps train the young mutants and discusses tactics and feels closer to people than he has since he and Peggy started to drift apart. Then he sees fault lines in the conversations and arguments about the future of mutant-kind and is overtaken by a fear that it will tear the nascent group in two. Because what Steve knows is this: someday those differences won't matter. Someday you'll have the option of staring down an annihilation-level threat and being told that you weren't there when someone needed you and if you could choose again you'd choose the former.

But Steve doesn't try to interfere. He's not naive; he knows that he can only imagine what it's like to be a mutant.

But it's hard not to project.

It isn't that he regrets his decision to go back in time. He'd do it again. He saved Bucky and ripped Hydra out of SHIELD and he's so close to finding out how Red Skull ended up in space guarding the soul stone. But it isn't until he begins to teach Raven the finer points of combat that he truly feels not alone.

He's with them when they go to Cuba. He sits next to Moira and wonders if he should have brought the shield. He hasn't used it since he came back to the past. For all intents and purposes, Captain America is supposed to be dead; yet, Steve's blood thrums through his veins like he's standing on the ruins of the Avengers Compound next to Tony and Thor.

(Charles has long since learned to ignore Steve's strange internal monologue. This man should have been a storyteller instead of a soldier.)

Steve doesn't fix it, in the end. He falters just when he could be of use because when Erik holds those missiles in his power and turns them around on the ships he thinks of Tony turning a missile around and at flying it into the sky. He wonders how he could be so wrong about someone. It's at this moment Moira picks up the gun. Steve's fast, but he's not faster than a bullet.

It still shatters Charles's spine.

They save the world, yes, but Steve will only be able to watch as Erik's sent into solitary confinement. He can't prove Erik didn't kill Kennedy. And, of course, he'll try to reach out to Charles as the school closes and he shrinks into himself, but Charles can't stand to look at Steve and only finds him marginally more tolerable when he can't hear Steve's impossible thoughts.

It isn't until Logan arrives that Charles realizes that Steve might actually be the person he thinks he is. However, Steve's halfway across the world for some unimportant reason during the events of Days of Future's Past. He's not on the plane when Charles tells Erik that he wasn't there when Charles needed him. He's not there when Erik--again--chooses his principles over Charles.

And that's fine. You can't rewrite the future in Steve's brand of time travel. You live with your choices. You try to be there when people need you and you live with the consequences when you cannot.

#steve rogers #cherik #xmen: first class #crossovers are not really my thing but this has infected me

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alpinefrsh · 8 months

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Tommy in LMK crossover ideas

Ahem... Below the cut, you'll find yourself faced with eight different concepts for Tommyinnit in the universe of Lego Monkie Kid. Most of which I'd like to write something for in the future, but honestly, who knows if I'll actually get around to it. If any of these happen to be up your alley, feel free to take as much or as little inspiration from them as you'd like.

1 - Amnesiac c!Tommy: c!Tommy wakes up in a city (Megapolis) with no memories aside from the innate knowledge that his name is Tommy. Lives in a cardboard box he named L’Boxberg for no apparent reason until he befriends Bai He, who, upon figuring out that he’s homeless, drags him to Macaque’s place and doesn’t accept criticism. Tommy occasionally gets fucked up by things triggering his memories from dsmp. Sometimes they’re positive memories, but mostly they’re just traumatic and upsetting.

2 - Fae!Macaque and village child TommyInnit: Tommy, MK, Mei, and possibly Bai He are all children in a rural village on the outskirts of a forest. Whenever there’s no one else around to snitch, MK tells Tommy and Mei (and Bai He, depending on if she’s there or not) about the Fae who’s been teaching him magic (Monkey King). This is great, except it fills Tommy’s head with all the wrong kinds of ideas and he decides to venture out into the forest to meet the Monkey King for himself. Spoiler alert, the fae he encounters is not Monkey King (Tommy’s persistence earns him a fae older brother/father figure out of Macaque anyway).

3 - Ghost!Macaque and Tommy: Tommy moves out into a shitty cheap flat all on his own, only to discover it’s already occupied by a pessimistic ghost named Macaque. Also, he doesn’t believe in ghosts.

4 - Vigilante Tommy, Villain Macaque: SBI is family, all of them, excluding Tommy (who’s too young) are heroes. When a villain called Macaque hurts Wilbur badly enough to put him in a coma, Tommy becomes a vigilante for the sole purpose of getting revenge by putting Macaque behind bars.

5 - Raccoonification Station: In a classic case of ‘wrong place, wrong time’ Tommy gets hit by a mystic artifact Jin and Yin were messing with that turns him into a Raccoon. Now stuck as a raccoon with no idea of how to change back and no way of asking for help, Tommy befriends the first person who feeds him- presumably Bai He, but could hypothetically work as someone else- who eventually realizes that- one, there shouldn’t be any raccoons in China, and two, this raccoon does not act like a raccoon. And then brings him to Macaque (or Wukong, depending on who it is) to see if there’s any mystic shenanigans going on.

6 - Tommy and MK roommates AU: Everything is the same, except Tommy is MK’s roommate. Ongoing joke of one of them hitting the other with “We need to have a serious discussion” and then that ‘discussion’ being things like “MK, you have to stop facing your Monkey King toy in my direction. He stares at me all day long and I am beginning to fear for my life.” (Until of course Tommy gets sick of watching MK’s mental health collapse and has a genuinely serious discussion with his roomie) 7 - Sorry!Tommy in LMK: After being buried alive by the people he thought were his friends, Tommy digs his way back to the surface with a new fear of tight spaces. Except now Tommy finds himself on a mountainous island in the middle of an ocean (Flower Fruit Mountain). He befriends a local troop of monkeys and Wukong is entirely unaware of the random human living on his mountain until he overhears some monkeys chatting about the weird boy who came from the earth.

8 - Noodle Thief AU: Tommy’s part human, part raccoon demon, and a literal child, who lives in the bushes of a local park. One day he smells something particularly tasty and follows the scent to an unguarded vehicle with several containers of noodles. This starts a cycle that will take several years off of Pigsy’s lifespan in which Tommy makes a habit of stealing noodles whenever MK’s not looking. Post season 4 special.

These are all fairly slimmed down to the bare bones premises, so if you'd like more elaboration or plot details for any of these ideas, let me know. (I also have a written scene for both the Ghostcaque AU and the Vigilante & Villain AU if anyone wants to see either of those)

#tommyinnit #lego monkie kid #fic ideas #crossover

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agonycrossbow · 2 months

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Leon might have been on the planet for 27 years, but he still has the maturity of a 21 year old.

After Raccoon City, Leon basically falls out of time and space. He's all but completely removed from society and has his growth as an adult completely stunted by the CIA.

That's why his reaction to and treatment of Ada is so goddamn immature.

On paper, Leon and Ashley have a seven year age gap. In practice and reality, there's only one year separating them. Ashley is 20, and Leon is still only 21.

Anyone who crows about an age gap between Leon and Ashley is outing themselves as someone who doesn't understand Leon's character at all and can be safely and thoroughly ignored.

#resident evil meta #leon characterization #eagleone analysis #remake RE analysis

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exovapor · 3 years

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The Adventure - TMNT Bitches: Chapters 4 & 5

CHAPTER 4: The Ping

· Baxter Stockman sits staring absent-mindedly at the computer screen. He’s been watching the screen for hours, waiting for a sign from the interdimensional portal device to let him know where Shredder went and where to send the rescue team. However, even though he’s staring straight at the screen, he isn’t seeing anything flashing across it.

· Stockman’s mind is having a slight issue with focusing after Karai’s parting threat. What type of mutant would he turn into? A hippo? A raccoon? A frog? A gelatinous pile of ooze?

· Or, would he even survive the mutation? The more time Stockman spent studying the mutagen, the more he has come to realize just how unstable and dangerous the substance is in Earth’s atmosphere.

· They had gotten VERY lucky that both Bebop and Rocksteady survived the initial mutation trial. By his calculations, the mutagen would kill 1 out of every 5 people and that ratio only increases the more unstable the chemical becomes. Sure, Krang keeps them supplied with a fresh batch every so often, but the fact still remains, the substance and the subsequent mutation are dangerous for the test subject.

· Karai really wouldn’t mutant him, would she? After all, he is the brains behind their operation! Where else will she find a someone with his knowledge, with his skill, with his ambitions? Without him there IS no operation!

· He is still contemplating his uncertain future when a pinging alert sounds from his computer. He can’t believe his eyes! There on his screen a little dot flashes to indicate that the portal device has powered back on and it has sent over the last known Jump coordinates. He feels elated, relieved, and then shocked. The last known Jump coordinates were one thing, but the actual devices location is another…the device is still here in this dimension and in New York City no less.

· He watches the screen as the little dot flashes and then disappears all together, sending back a exact copy of the previous Jump coordinates. The device is no longer pinging in NYC, nor this dimension. Someone just used the device to follow Shredder. “Turtles”, Baxter spits from his mouth, knowing full well who would want to follow his master into another dimension.

· He quickly phones Karai to let her know that he’s got the coordinates of Shredder’s location and then he sends a message to the backup portal device to command Bebop and Rocksteady to come back and get armed up, they’ve got to stop those turtles.

_____________________________

CHAPTER 5: Normal Among Freaks

· The brothers stand clustered together on the top level of the parking deck, taking in the foreign surroundings. Hoping that this dimension isn’t too divergent from their own; otherwise, they will be ill-prepared for this trip.

· Mikey breaks away from the group to follow his curiosity, all the merry voices drifting up from the streets is just too tempting to ignore. As he looks over the edge of the parking deck, he sees all forms of aliens, vampires, people in Viking armor, people in battle body armor, people dressed in renaissance clothing, wizards and witches, women in small barely-there outfits, people in super hero attire, others in space suits, robots, and so much more, he can’t believe his eyes, “Hey, dudes, um…how sure are we that this place is like ours?”.

· “I’m pretty sure, Mikey,”, Donnie says over his shoulder, while swiping through screens, trying to see if there are any traces of Shredder still left in the area, “why do you ask?”.

· “Ahhhh..well…because…um…I’m not seeing a lot of normal people down there”, Mikey replies back, his voice full of tension, “I think our new looks may not work for us here”.

· Raph runs over to join his smaller brother at the edge and is immediately flabbergasted by the display…especially the barely-there outfits of many of the women, “Shit! Ya guys gotta see dis!”.

· Leo and Donnie begrudgingly join the other two at the edge of the parking deck to survey the spectacle that has their brothers so enthralled. Their eyes sweep across the scene and they are equally amazed by what they are seeing. Leo lifts his brow at Donnie in a questioning gaze.

· Donnie pulls his goggles from his forehead, over his eyes, and starting electrically analyzing the scene, “Hm. Well, Mikey, I think we are still safe. It appears that all the biological beings down there are indeed humans, just in costumes…hmmm…most of which seem to be crafted out of fiberglass, foam, and various textiles”. He replaces his goggles back on his head and goes back to his virtual computer screen, scanning through some information, “AH! This explains it! The data screaming out of some of these buildings states that there is a Sci-if/Comic Book Convention, by the name of Dragon Con, taking place over the next few days”, he says with a wide grin. He sighs and with longing in hazel his eyes he adds, “I’ve always wanted to go to one of those”.

· “OH, OH, me too! ME TOO!”, Mikey affirms excitedly. His eyes light up with joy at the prospect at socializing and partying, “Can we, Leo? Can we catch it out?”.

· At that moment, Raph sees one woman practically nude except for a set of heels, a collar, a thong, and some black tape crisscrossed over her areolas, “Damn, I’d like to check her out.”. Raph leans over the lip of the concrete deck and cat-calls down to the woman below, “Babydoll, can I take that tape off with my teeth?”. The woman looks up at his roguish grinning face, she takes in his large body, his shirt pulling taunt and tight across his torso so she giggles and waves at him, replying, “Any time big boy, come find me.”.

· “Oh, I’ll find her alright. Leo, I’ve got a mission”, he turns to Leo and Donnie grinning proudly.

· Leo gives a no-nonsense look to all of his preoccupied brothers, “We came here on a mission. We don’t have time to play around. We’ve got to find Shredder before he has a chance to use that mutagen.”

· Mikey’s carefree face falls once again and he stares longingly down into the streets below, “But it looks so fun! We finally look normal, it would be nice to join in for once.”, he mumbles in a broken-hearted tone.

· Raph’s mood turns sour at being denied a chance to follow his…instincts…and he throws Leo a confronting stare. “Just our luck! We ooze ourselves ta look like them and now all of them are looking like freaks like us”, Raph declares sarcastically while gesturing with his large hands towards the costumed crowds below.

· A grieved huff comes out of Donnie as he crosses his arms and rebukes Raph’s assessment of his fellow nerds and geeks, “They are not freaks! They are cosplay enthusiasts who gain satisfaction from crafting genre replicas and embodying their favorite heroes and villains.”

· “Yeah, like I said, freaks.”, Raph echoes back with a half-cocked smile and rolling his massive shoulders. He knows when he has Donnie on the defensive about his geek stuff and nothing brings him more joy than egging-on his nerdy brother…especially when he’s been denied playtime by Leo. He’ll take his fun where he can find it.

· “We should get back from the edge and try to go as unnoticed as possible,” Leo says a little unsure of situation and the effect that it is having on his brothers. He doesn’t like the unsettling feeling of being uncertain, of the group already getting distracted, and is still in the habit of wanting to remain hidden. He backs away from the edge and turns to Donnie, “Donnie, is there any indication that Shredder was here and where he may have gone?”.

· The tall dark haired mutant starts scanning the area as Leo follows him, they move towards the middle of the parking area, following Donnie’s scans. Raph pulls a very curious and reluctant Mikey back from the edge of the parking deck, by the collar of his shirt, to join their brothers. Donnie’s scans send back confirmation of black hole activity, other than their most recent arrival, and he is still scanning the horizon when they hear a blaring horn.

@turtle-babe83 @tmntspidergirl @nittleboo @kokokatsworld @the-second-circle-of-shell

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt x reader #tmnt smut #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt #tmnt 2016 #donnie #leonardo #raph #mikey #tmnt donnie #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt mikey #exovapor

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delimeful · 4 years

Text

the end of being alone (3)

Ch 1 | Ch 2 |

warning: mentions of fear, crocodiles, discussion of teeth

Logan found himself grateful that he’d made arrangements to postpone their other jobs for a bit, because it looked as though they’d be staying firmly on this planet’s surface for a while.

There had been all of one attempt to bring Virgil aboard the Mindscape, and it had resulted in a significant amount of crying from both the child and Patton. Whatever circumstances had led the Human to this planet, it had left them deeply fearful of any sort of spacefaring vessel.

… This did not annul Logan’s suspicions about smuggling, though he was careful not to say as much in front of Virgil. The child was keen, and any time the fact that they were a Human was mentioned, they withdrew and began displaying body language that Logan believed indicated a desire to flee. Checking that exits were still there, putting space between themself and any of the Mindscape’s crew, anxious tics, and so forth.

Needless to say, they avoided the topic.

However, to Logan’s surprise, the child didn’t seem at all adverse to basic questions about themself. Understanding their responses was rare, of course, but the kid was picking up on Common with a shocking quickness, and Roman had turned out to be rather talented at interpreting their gestures when they didn’t have the right words.

The data that Logan had collected from these inquiries was both strange and intriguing. He’d carefully woven a mental list of it all.

1. Virgil seemed to identify by he/him, though whether that was an actual gender preference or simply a child wanting to be called the same pronouns as the three of them was up for debate. Either way, Logan seriously doubted that there was any way to convey the nebulous concept of gender through a language barrier, so he let the matter lie.

2. After eating too fast, Virgil would convulse slightly in a semi-rhythmic pattern for a short period. He didn’t seem alarmed or pained by this, only slightly irritated when it would interrupt him mid-sentence. The condition of ‘hiccups’ was thankfully temporary, since it made Roman quite jumpy. For their tiny, squeaking nature, Patton had called them ‘hicchirps’, which was ridiculous, but Virgil seemed to enjoy any and all wordplay that made it through his grasp of the language, so Logan stowed his complaints.

3. Virgil was terrified of the locals. Despite being plainly evident, this observation didn’t make sense at first, seeing as the nearby town consisted primarily of native Hiiynal and a few offplanet transfers, none of which could be described as particularly dangerous or violent. After a few days of gentle questioning and no reprimands for not answering, Virgil finally told them that the locals would ‘chase monsters far away’ and so he couldn’t risk getting near. Questioning was temporarily halted in favor of showing the Human the art of shadow symmetry, for purely scientific reasons, of course.

(Supposition: Human children enjoyed movement games.)

4. While the synthetic meat from the ration kits was accepted by Virgil, he showed a surprising preference for sweeter food items, such as fruit and sugar crystals. Seeing as Humans were rumored to be obligate carnivores or even raw flesh-eaters, this was a strange discrepancy. Virgil had even eaten some of the leafy vegetables Logan had brought, face pinched up in disgust but insisting that eating ‘greens’ would make one tall. It was unclear to Logan what color had to do with nutrients or growth. He was also slightly alarmed at the implication of Virgil being short for his age.

5. Virgil seemed, for all intents and purposes, fixated on Roman.

The latest data point was a work in progress. Logan hadn’t mentioned it to Roman himself, because the Cravon was already fairly worked up over everything the Human did as it was. Nobody seemed sure if this jumpiness was because of the Human child, or on behalf of it.

Still, it was present in little ways. For example, even as he answered Logan’s latest series of questions, his gaze would occasionally flicker up from his hands to Roman, who sat at the mouth of the little cave, carefully peeling more fruit. It wasn’t about the food; Patton had taken it upon himself to make sure the child knew he only had to ask to get something to eat. No, this ‘almost-staring’ was a frequent occurrence, no matter what Roman preoccupied himself with.

“You were saying you met… Susan… when another predator was attacking it?”

Virgil nodded, hurriedly looking back to his hands. “It was a big bite monster, and Susan was loud crying, so I did, uh,” he lifted his arms up, hands spread wide, “this, and I was loud at it until it ran away. Like raccoons back on Dirt.”

Dirt was apparently Virgil’s name for his home. Logan hadn’t heard of ‘raccoons’ before. He decided not to get sidetracked. “I’d estimate the creature you saw was a Lifel. They are the natural predators of Humlilts.”

“Natural?” Virgil mimicked.

“It means ‘of nature’,” Logan attempted to clarify, gesturing around them. “In the wild.”

Virgil only grew more confused with the wide, encompassing gesture. “Sky? Was not flying.”

Logan glanced at Roman, checking that he was still preoccupied. Patton was back at the ship, contacting a friend for advice. There seemed no better opportunity if he wanted to avoid overwhelming Virgil.

“Virgil, would you like to try something new?” he asked, carefully neutral. It wouldn’t do to put any pressure on the child.

The Human squinted at him slightly, quick to use his most common phrase. “Will it hurt?”

“It will not hurt,” Logan replied, ignoring the tightening in his core with careful practice. It always felt so wrong, that a mere pupa would be so familiar with hurt. “I will always tell you if something might hurt.”

“Mmm.” The Human hummed, the way he always did when they told him such things. Like he wasn’t sure if he could believe it. “What’s it?”

“What is it,” Logan corrected automatically. “It is something I can do, to show you new words. Want to try a little bit, first?” That was the phrase they used for new foods, but it applied well enough to mindsharing.

Virgil clenched and unclenched his hands for a moment longer before nodding, going a little tense like he expected something unpleasant. Logan held a hand out to him, waiting until he’d reached out in return to start sharing.

Small, simple flashes of images and sensations. Quiet forests, shallow oceans, clean air. Plants, bugs, animals, humanoids, living and dying and living again. Nature.

Virgil had pinched his eyes closed immediately at the start of the low-level telepathy, and Logan only had a moment to worry that maybe it had hurt him in some manner.

Then, there was a feeling of recognition. Without a moment to spare, Virgil had grasped the nature of the Vidi and was projecting his own thoughts. Walking on a crunchy leaf-covered trail with other Human young, a winged insect emerging from a cocoon, the crack of thunder and heavy rain on a windowsill. Nature.

“Wow!” Virgil whispered, imprint thoughts flickering like flames, too quick for Logan to really see. “You see into heads!”

Logan pulled back slightly, offering a bit of content-smug in return to the Human’s awe. “That is one way of framing it, yes. So, you understand what I mean, about the Lifel being a natural predator?”

“Carnivore,” Virgil mumbled, and then offered image-thoughts of several creatures that Logan could only assume were from the deathworlder’s home planet. He watched with morbid curiosity as Virgil remembered a clip from a screen, displaying large ungulates with twisting horns crossing a river, and then being dragged underwater by a dark, writhing shape.

“That’s a crocodile,” Virgil told him, his eyes still closed tight in concentration. “They’ve got big teeth and they do death rolls. They look like alligators, but I know they aren’t because gators live in Florida.”

“Florida?” Logan asked. He wondered if perhaps ‘gators’ were kept in captivity for species preservation. Or perhaps they were too dangerous left in the wild?

Virgil showed him a memory of a long, reptilian form with a narrow, tooth-filled jaw. It was wading steadily through a swimming pool, not paying any mind to Virgil, who was sitting with his legs dipped in the pool, watching in fascination. “I lived there!”

“Oh,” Logan managed, his ears going numb with fear at the idea of a child being so near a creature like that. “So it would seem.”

The Human patted him carefully, a gesture of comfort. “It’s okay. The bad guys didn’t take any gators or crocodiles from Dirt. Just people.”

Virgil’s words trailed off, a sense of melancholy overwhelming him. Rather than find out more about the Human’s past, Logan felt an unreasonably strong urge to stop that sadness. “Could you perhaps tell me more about these… ‘crocodiles’? You seem to be quite informed on them.”

“I had a book about them,” Virgil managed, slowly dragging his thoughts away from his abduction. “Did you know some crocodiles have a… a ‘biting force’ of five thousand pounds?”

He had lapsed into English, the sentence sounding well-recited, but Logan still got the general idea of what he meant, and a strong image of a picture book, covered in writing he couldn’t read but still understood. If Logan was right about the measurement conversions, the fact was terrifying.

“That’s very interesting,” he mused, because terrifying and interesting often went hand in hand. “Are there any other predators that can bite like that?”

Virgil scrunched his face up in thought. “Maybe sharks. Oh, but for sure a T. Rex!”

Logan saw a very concerning glimpse of a large fish with too many teeth before Virgil’s mind switched to a cartoon depiction of a larger creature with also too many teeth. He was beginning to see a trend in deathworlder species. “I… see.”

“They’re all dead, though,” Virgil told him sadly, projecting a memory of a huge display of bones. He then seemed to perk up, glancing over at Roman again. “Except for in space!”

Logan narrowly avoided laughing out loud, covering his throat before the vibrating chirps could get far. So, this was the truth behind the Human’s interest!

“Roman is not a ‘dinosaur’,” he clarified, once he felt composed enough to do so. “In fact, I believe he rarely even eats meat.”

Virgil squinted at him. “Are you sure? Maybe he’s a secret dinosaur.”

Logan wiggled his fingers thoughtfully. “I suppose we’ll just have to check.”

---

“Roman, would you come here for a moment?”

Roman looked up from his task, immediately suspicious. Logan sounded strangely amused, like he was on the brink of laughing at him. That was never a good sign.

Still, the Human was looking over at him with those wide, strange eyes, and he wasn’t about to run away. He got to his feet, leaving his pile of dana peels behind as he crossed the cave floor. “What is it, dear esteemed companion who would never take advantage of me?”

“I need you to show us your teeth,” Logan said, very much not being a dear esteemed companion who would never take advantage of him. Roman resisted the urge to hang his head in resignation. He should have expected this. The Ulgorii was shameless when it came to exploiting his friends for science.

“How about absolutely not?” he replied, because there were actually limits to his tolerance for shenanigans, and one of those limits was threat-displaying at a baby Human.

“Hold on, look,” Logan said, and then bared his own ridged teeth with a click.

The Human did his small grimace-smile back, entirely unphased. They both looked to him expectantly. Roman felt as though he was being ganged up on.

“Um,” Virgil said, painfully tentative, “please?”

Roman felt extremely ganged up on.

He squatted, tail keeping him perfectly balanced, and pulled at the corner of his mouth to show some of his teeth.

“Woah,” Virgil breathed.

“See how the back teeth are narrow but dull? They’re designed to crack bones and get to the marrow at the center,” Logan narrated, like the nerd he was. “Roman doesn’t have the small incisors or sharp molars required for proper full-time carnivores.”

Roman almost reminded his crewmate to use small words, but Virgil seemed to get the idea, leaning uncomfortably close to stare. He then opened his own mouth, like he was planning to take a bite out of something, displaying a shocking number of tiny little bone-teeth crammed inside. Some of them were uncomfortably sharp.

Rather than attack anyone, though, Virgil touched his own teeth, carefully inspecting the shape of them. Roman resisted the urge to get him to sanitize his hands. Kits would be kits, he supposed.

Logan was patiently watching as Virgil pointed to each tooth in turn, and he obligingly recited the name of each type of tooth for the kit. His two lower arms took frantic notes on Human jaw structure, probably to prepare more elaborate meal plans better suited to a deathworlder diet. The kid soaked every bit of information in like a sponge.

Finally, after a long moment of thought, he announced, “My ‘lower canine’ is going to fall out in close time!”

“Soon,” Logan offered, always quick to interpret the Human’s occasional nonsense Common. “'My lower canine is going to fall out soon.'” And then, after a moment’s pause. “Wait, it’s going to what?”

And then, because Roman’s day needed more nightmare fuel, the kit bared his tiny fangs at them and poked one with his tongue, revealing that it did indeed seem to be sickeningly loose. In fact, Roman could see a few other gaps in the curved row of teeth, some with little bits of bone peeking out.

“Stars above,” Roman said, feeling a little faint. Logan was already interrogating a very confused Virgil on whether or not losing teeth was indicative of an illness or not.

“They’re just my little teeth,” Virgil told them, seemingly unconcerned with holes in his mouth. “I get big ones later.”

“There are plenty of species that have milk teeth, but to have their adult set not fully-formed by the time the milk teeth are ready to fall out…,” Logan quickly devolved into muttering, hands flicking.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Roman asked despite himself, eyeing the kit just in case he was going to burst into tears all of the sudden. Roman himself had lost one or two front teeth before his next set had fully formed, and each time it had felt like biting on hot metal.

“Nuh-uh.” Virgil seemed to have moved from confused to amused, still not entirely sure what the fuss was all about. “Not unless I,” he mimed pulling on the tooth, and Roman made a click-click-click of parental don’t-do-that chiding before he’d even fully registered the alarm he’d felt at the motion.

Virgil clicked back at him curiously, sounding exactly like a tiny version of an exasperated parent. Roman tucked his face against his shoulder, unsure if he should laugh or despair.

This Human was really going to be the death of him.

#sanders sides #space au #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #teoba #the end of being alone #writing #my writing #crocodiles #raccoon #you all wanted baby teeth and so baby teeth you shall receive #ask to tag

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Note

HEY B GIMMIE THAT SWEET SWEET RIVAL MATCHUP U ALREADY KNO

You already know who this is but ill still give u a hot rundown: My names Ally, im 20 years old 5’7’’ and a Leo/year of the dragon/INFP. She/They pronouns and im Pansexual but i dont think that matters much in this situation >:P. Appearance wise i have shoulder length curly red hair and green/grey eyes, suuuuper pale skin and freckles. Im def an ambivert, very protective of people who mean alot to me and kind of sharp tempered, especially when people start talking about shit they dont know anything about. Im also a pretty big perfectionist and people pleaser and will beat the FUCK outta myself if i feel like i let people down or made people upset when i could have helped it. But thats all about me, heres those wacky questions!

- Stated before, but im an August Leo! I would say my aura would probably be a pinkish/ purple color? For dislikes i def dont like bitter foods, being too hot, rumors, people talking behind my back, ppl who act like they know what theyre talking about, ppl cutting me off when i lose my train of thought, conservatives, not caring about climate change/the planet in general, tight or restrictive clothes, not having enough time in the day, capitalism, ect. Honestly the most off the wall thing for me that would make me throw hands on sight would probably be someone saying some shit about my close friends behind their back to me.

- Once when I was 14 me and about 10 other people squeezed into a mini van at about 3am and drove around the town, not a single one of us had a license or were over the age of 16, and we were all ridiculously drunk and high the entire time (except the driver. we were underage, not stupid). After driving halfway across the island we got pulled over by cop on the interstate, and he walked up to the car, looked at the driver, then into the passenger seat and saw literally 10 KIDS OBVIOUSLY DRINKING and the car absolutely reeked of bud, then looked back at the driver and simply told him “Your tail light is out. Get home safe” and drove away. Ive never seen god faster than that moment LMAO

- I could never willingly fight a raccoon, youre sick for suggesting that >:/ They are precious boys and ive saved too many from drowning in my pool for me to lay a finger on one. And as for dealbreakers? My biggest one in a relationship is cheating, but thats pretty basic LMAO. I would also say one that’s definitely second in rank would be expecting someone to stay the same through out the relationship and getting upset when the person changes. We are human beings and developing and growing, if you dont support me in that nothing is going to work. I explained a bunch of things i dislike in people above, but ill also add in here people who hurt animals in any way/ litter for no reason. If one of my friends throws a piece of trash out of my car im slammin on the brakes and youre getting out and picking it up. And god forBID you touch an animal around me il doing whatever you did to it to yourself no hesitation.

- I would hate being stuck in a room with anyone, i have decently bad claustrophobia and if we were in there for more than a day i would start bugging out LOL But probably the worst type of person would be someone who just doesn’t shut up and trys to act like they know everything. Those are like, the most insufferable people to me. ESPECIALLY if theyre wrong and refuse to admit it. Whenever i think of being locked in a room, somehow i always imagine like a dark navy blue room with one small window and completely empty floors and walls, everything made out of carpet. Dont ask me why, i have absolutely no clue.

my feed back is ily bitch gimmie a good one i wanna fight a bitch

Your enemy is… Eyeless Jack!

In general:

I told you this yesterday but I wasn’t expecting you to send this in and must've spent like 5 straight minutes wheezing reading this. My gut reaction was Jeff, but based on what you wrote about the room, I’m going to say your enemy is actually Eyeless Jack!

Things he doesn’t like about you and how he pisses you off:

EJ doesn’t like that you’re a Leo. I’m not elaborating on that. He’s such a cold, clinical, heartless bastard that everything you are just goes against whatever tf he actually believes and acts as. I feel like you being a perfectionist would just brush against his perfectionist tendencies and habits. He’d say everything you’re doing is wrong. Just a dick. EJ may or may not exploit your weaknesses but that’s just because he thinks it’s fun and doesn’t like you.

EJ is a god of knowing what he’s talking about and it leads to this cocky, know it all attitude. It’s gonna brush you the wrong way. He knows that and takes joy in it. He will always attempt to one up you in knowledge and grin when he sees you falter. On the other end, if you catch him off guard he’s gonna be SO MAD. He will purposely turn up the heat in your presence just to make you upset. He will breathe down your neck and get in your personal space just to make you more uncomfortable. EJ isn’t anywhere NEAR a conservative or a climate change denier but he will take those positions just to make you mad and laugh over your attempts at arguing with him. Like Jeff, he’s a huge devil’s advocate and will start shit just because he can. I don’t actually think he’d talk about your friends negatively in front of you though, but he would definitely say stuff about you to your face.

EJ thinks it’s stupid you drank underage and will poke that memory. He will use insults about alcohol and the brain despite drinking a ton himself. If you call him out on it, he will fold. Literally throw everything he says about you back at him and he will get puffy and fast. EJ can’t always handle change that well so like, he’s a stubborn guy. Despite how logical he can be and how smart he is, socially he is so uncouth!! EJ doesn’t litter so you don’t have to worry about that but he’s definitely gonna do things that push your buttons, mostly say things that put you off. He’s not claustrophobic. He will put you in situations like that just because he can. The dark navy blue of his mask is going to haunt you. EJ will act like a god in your presence and snarl when you dare question his abilities. CALL HIM OUT. HUMBLE HIM PLEASE.

He agrees on the raccoon thing ngl. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but EJ has such a soft spot for animals - mostly birds - but he can’t fault you for the raccoon thing. He's also not too fond of litter so he has to agree with you on that one too.

Closing Thoughts/Other Things:

Knowing you for as long as I have, I was so, so ready to actually put you with Jeff. However, the more I read into this the more my intuition screeched that you would actually throw hands with EJ and I find that HILARIOUS. Just the arguments between you and this tall, muscular demon man is just - “what? What? WHAT” It’s beautiful. I’m serious, Merida vs. a literal demon. That’s all. Ily. <3

#eyeless jack #eyeless jack headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta matchup #enemy matchups #rival matchups

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benreys-realm · 3 years

Text

Reference sheet of the lovely B-479! (Aka, the lovely chaotic little troll Benry!!)

Commission/artwork done by frostios (THANK YOU SO MUCH FROSTIOS :3 ) please go check out her blog and her lovely works of art!! She also does commissions and video game streams!!! :3

This troublesome little alien is a chaotic little bean. He gets into plenty of trouble!

Known characteristics of B-479:

4 1/2 feet tall (currently)

23 years old (Same age as Gordon Freeman)

Can be extremely aggressive and dangerous. Suggested to be approached with extreme caution

What is known about his species is EXTREMELY LIMITED. Humans cannot seem to gain any answers from studies and experiments.

Can AND WILL EAT solid metal. Thinks it’s delicious

Has the ability to heal his body within seconds. Broken bones heal within an hour or so, same with missing limbs. Cuts bruises and small things heal almost immediately

Loves video games (to a fault)

Is UNDENIABLY touch starved

Looks like a weird hybrid between a raccoon, a maned wolf, and a red panda... in fact is an alien that just LOOKS VERY SIMILAR to these species. Is actually not related to any of those species

Is an alien from outer space. Has no idea where he came from or where he belongs

Actually has NO claws. He was declawed years ago do safety of the Black Mesa Staff

Is a junk food hoarder... don’t bring food into his room. It’ll be missing very quickly

Has a special “pouch” that he stashes things. It’s like a second stomach that actually doesn’t digest anything. Mostly storage space. Somehow doesn’t actually get anything wet and keeps things dry...? Don’t think about too hard...

Will more than likely steal anything of value. He LOVES SHINY THINGS (he’s like a raccoon your stuff is HIS stuff. You’ll more than likely not get it back either)

He will pester you relentlessly after he steals your passport. And no, you won’t get it back

He will demand endless cuddles and probably wanna curl up in your lap or something after he gets used to you

Is pretty gullible! He’s young and has very little experience with humans, so he will probably believe whatever you tell him (any past experiences with humans aside from Gordon have made him extremely uncomfortable around most people except for Tommy and Barney, whom actually cared about him. Also Gordon Freeman is an exception)

Is extremely curious and constantly wants to learn. Obsessed with human technology. He also loves EATING human technology. Says it helps him “learn”

Is undeniably intelligent. Smarter than most humans and is a tech genius

Just acts like an idiot. His age doesn’t help with his actions or antics, plays coy to anger the scientists, guards and past caretakers. Eventually, it came to a point to get Benry to cooperate force and aggression was needed. It became an abusive situation ever since the first year. It only made his hostility, anxiety, depression and temper worse.

Is extremely distrusting of most humans. He was treated poorly and like a lab rat since the first day he came into Black Mesa

Is... and can be incredibly rude and condescending. Doesn’t have many of any friends possibly for that reason

Sees Tommy Coolatta as his older brother, fully trusts him (Tommy is his caretaker and absolutely loves and adores Benry, fully intends in making him his younger legitimate brother)

Sees Barney Calhoun as his father figure. Barney treats Benry like a son. Barney has no kids and isn’t married, but he basically sees Benry as his own son. He will do ANYTHING to keep Benry safe and happy within his power, and is extremely tempted to just outright adopt Benry and say screw the system. That’s his son now

Has had a secret communication system with the man named Gordon Freeman for 3 years. Typically through emails, game chats and such. How Benry successfully hid the device that he hacked and used to communicate with Gordon for 3 years in secret is still unknown

He is incredibly lonely. He spent most of his life as a test subject and a prisoner, and will immediately grow very fond of anyone who treats him like a real person (AKA, Tommy, Barney and Gordon)

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years

Note

Aye you sick of me yet? Lol. How about the boys going to the boardwalk one night to find a traveling circus/freak show is in town. I’m talkin sword swallowing and fire breathing type ish. Our lovely lady s/o is an acrobat who performs with an aerial hoop (if you need reference, my personal fav performance is Chloe Gardiol doing cry me a river). And is she actually human? Who knows? Is she alluring as bait? Maybe.

Not at all!! Sorry it took so long to get to this!! I totally love this ask, and I’m definitely turning this into a fic!! I’m also thinking Poly!Lost Boys for this one!! I hope you enjoy!!

Talk About Freak Show (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1865

The boys probably should’ve known a circus was coming into town, but it caught the four of them by surprise. They’d been to their fair share over the years, but it was still a pleasant sight. It was something different. Something to keep them entertained besides the normal crowds that walked up and down the boardwalks. There were clowns, jugglers, and even fire breathers littering the boardwalk and impressing the locals.

“Gnarly!” Paul shouted as he watched someone swallow a sword. Marko and Paul were pushing eachother, and Dwayne had to grab both of them by the back of their coats before one of them decided to give it a try. David rolled his eyes and threatened,

“If the two of you don’t shut up, I’ll shove a sword somewhere else.” He said, and Paul wiggled his fingers at him and said,

“Ooh.” In a mocking tone, while Marko laughed and encouraged him to lighten up. It was a circus! They were supposed to be having a good time! And they were. David just didn’t like how many of the carnies kept coming up to them. Especially when a mime decided to make fun of David for wearing a “long face”. Marko and Paul had nearly lost their minds laughing when the mime copied David, and David had considered strangling the poor guy right then and there. He mimicked him smoking a cigarette, and, after only being around him for a minute, he was actually doing a pretty good impression. This only made him more angry. Luckily, something else had caught their attention.

There was a big top set up in the sand, and the four of them left their bikes near the back to check it out. A performance was just about to start, and they weren’t strangers to sneaking into places like this. They took some empty seats, and ducked in the crowd so no one would see them. Dwayne had to tell Paul to shut up, as he was sure the blondes giggling would give it away that they weren’t supposed to be there.

They watched a ring leader announce the name of the next performer, and the boys watched in wonder as you stepped out and a hoop was slowly dropped down from above. You wore a red and white shimmery leotard, one that exposed your legs, arms, and clung to your body. You had a rose in her hair, and they couldn’t tell how long it was by how it was tied back. Still, you were beautiful. Paul let out a wolf whistle, and Marko laughed and punched him in the shoulder.

They stayed for your entire performance, even though they’d only meant to stay for a few minutes. You were entrancing. They’d seen others perform aerial arts before, but there was just something about you that they couldn’t deny was different. The way that you hung in the air, moved your body, and seemed to have complete control over the audience, even them, was unmistakably mesmerizing. Marko even leaned over to whisper to David, asking if he thought that you were human. David didn’t say a word for a moment. His eyes watched you, and he whispered,

“I’m not sure.” It was a weird thing to admit, but it was the truth. There were too many heartbeats, too many scents. He couldn’t place which one was yours. Their voices were barely a whisper, and he was sure no one would’ve been able to hear him over the music. Marko then added,

“She’d make good bait.” And David turned to look at his angel faced brother. Marko was grinning, a grin that David had become far too familiar with over the years. It was like he had read his mind. He gave him a small smirk, and a silent nod. That you would.

When you finished your performance, Paul stood up to give you a standing ovation. He was quickly yanked down by the brunette, but he still hooted and hollered for you. They caught your laugh, but you were quickly bowing and retreating back behind the curtain. Marko whispered the beginning of their plan to the other two, and Paul was practically bouncing with excitement. They left the big top, sneaking out where they came, and going to grab their bikes. They were going to find you, get you away from the crowds, maybe have some fun and-

They paused when they saw a small crowd near their bikes. Apparently, they’d parked them right where the carnies took their breaks. The mime from before was smoking a cigarette, and they could hear what he was saying over the dull roar of the crowd.

“-Totally hot, but the one with the mullet was kind of a dick. I hate stopping in these shitty towns. God, why couldn’t- Shit! That’s them.” He noticed them just when they were only a few feet away. He was talking to you, exactly who’d they’d been looking for, and you turned to follow his eyes. You were wearing a light brown fur overcoat, one that went down to your mid-thigh, and it was obviously to keep the nights chill off of your shoulders. Your hair hung loosely over your shoulders, and it wasn’t until you turned that they realized it was you, the acrobat, from before. They could see the sparkly red and white leotard under your coat, and now they knew why you were wearing something so heavy. You furrowed your brows when they continued to walk closer.

“Can I help you boys?” You asked. This was circus territory. Hot or not, tourists and locals weren’t allowed to be back here. The platinum blonde, the one your friend had called a dick, smiled at you. He had ocean blue eyes, one’s sharp enough to pierce. He was dressed in all black, with an overcoat and gloves. You stared right back, and a shiver threatened to go down your spine. He was attractive, but your survival instinct from being on the road for so long practically screamed that he was dangerous. He gave you the creeps. He motioned to the bikes right besides you and your friends.

“We were just about to ask you the same thing.” He said. His voice was smooth like velvet, and you almost felt a wave of something. You couldn’t describe it except for suggestion, maybe? It washed over you like a wave, and it took all of your hesitance with it. “I’m David.” He said as he plucked a cigarette from behind his ear, and you found yourself giving up your name without thinking about it. Not your stage name. Your real one. Your friend, the mime, gave you a startled look. It was an unspoken rule not to share your real name. It broke the illusion. The barrier between actor and audience.

You’d been standing right in front of one of the middle bikes, a bike with a yellow back wheel and a raccoons tail hanging from one of the handles. The presumed owner, a curly-haired blonde with big, doe brown eyes slid by you into the space between the bike right next to his. He made sure to brush by you as you past, holding you steady so he didn’t knock you over. He didn’t excuse himself, and he grinned when you had to grip onto his jacket. He leaned in and whispered, “I’m Marko.” With a wide grin on his face. He climbed onto the bike, and revved the engine to life.

Then, the tallest of the blondes, swaggered his way over to you. He was at the end of the line and he didn’t have to walk nearly as close, but he did anyways. He brushed a hand over the fur of your coat, lifting his brows as he said, “Nice coat. I’m Paul.” With a slight californian accent. He looked more like a glam-rocker than a surfer, but you could smell the weed on him as he walked backwards for a few steps. He had a row of almost too perfect teeth, and a smile that was charming and lazy. And then he was taking a seat on a bike with a red back wheel.

The brunette didn’t try to come close. His bike was the other middle one, the one to your left, but he commanded your attention anyways. His eyes were dark and his skin was tanned. You didn’t let yourself embarrass yourself by looking down at his chest, and he gave you the smallest of smirks. He nodded his head at you and said, “Dwayne.” As he went to his bike. Your friend had been talking about him, and while you admitted that he was definitely hot, you wished he’d warned you that they all were. Though, you felt hairs stand on the back of your neck. Three of them were behind you, and, for some reason, you didn’t like that. But turning your back to David seemed far worse. David hadn’t made his way to his bike in the seconds that had just past, and instead asked,

“You got a light?” And you were snapped back to reality. You reached inside your coat, producing a lighter. David leaned down, the cigarette already between his teeth, and cupped your hand as you helped him light his cigarette. The leather was smooth against your skin, and you tried to pretend that your hand wasn’t shaking. He looked at you as he did, his eyes staring into yours. It made you gulp, and he smirked. He pulled back, took a drag, and blew the smoke away from you. He glanced at your friend, before he walked to his bike. It was the first one in line, and you turned to follow him with your eyes. You faced them, and David said, “Was that your last performance of the night?”

It barely registered as a question, but you shook your head. Not as an answer, but more so to clear it. The boys snickered, and Paul and Marko smiled at eachother. As if they knew something you didn’t. You were quick to say,

“No, no. That, um- I have another one later tonight.” You’d never been nervous around people before. But these boys? They made you feel like they were about to eat you alive. David took another drag, and he almost looked a little disappointed. It had to be your imagination though. Your friend tugged you to the side, out from in front of their bikes, and you let him. David watched, and he narrowed his eyes at the mime. He took another drag.

“You should find us later tonight.” David said, and the same feeling washed over you. The push. The suggestion. Before you could answer, he was flicking his unfinished cigarette to the side, and Paul was tearing through the sand. They followed one by one, but David was quick to take the lead. With them gone, it felt like a cloud had been lifted from your head. But there was one thing that remained. You would find them later that night. Somehow.

Your friend scoffed and shook his head. He had already lit another cigarette and said,

“Talk about freak show.”

#marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #dwayne the lost boys #david the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys x reader

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fairisfair · 3 years

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Which are your all time favourite stories / characters and why??

You are so sweet to send me this! I write about 6 paragraphs in my head to the last ask you sent every day about my OC's and then when I sit down to actually write it at my laptop I... don't. So this one I will answer right away!

How do I choose between all my fictional children . . . I suppose the overarching umbrella I love the most would be fantasy! Having wings or magical powers, fairy dimensions or enchanted castles -- we don't have those reality, so it's lovely to escape to! One reason I love CGI's development is that every day it gets more and more advanced and we really feel like we're there!

I grew up immersed in a "nerdy/geeky" world because of my dad. His whole house is mar.vel, d.c, star tr.ek and star war.s, with comics everywhere and lots of movie statues! (now he's in an airplane phase... there's no space in this house...) Was I brainwashed from an early age? It's funny because while people are very die hard "THIS company, ride or die, I hate the competition" my dad loves them all, so I grew up in a very neutral household. I love D.C. and M.arvel, Star Tr.ek and Star Wa.rs and... even some really aged tv shows like The Flas.h from the 80's or Won.der Woman with Lynda Carter because they are fun, goofy and contain the "pure heart" aspect of heroines and heroes (without all the angst of these modern dramas). Was I brainwashed from an early age?

The first Harr.y Potter movie came out when I was a child and I devoured the series as I grew and more books/movies were released. Although it certainly has its problems (most of which I feel like come with J.K.'s "after facts") I learned so much from the characters and world. It's corny... but sometimes I had those books when I had no one else. They inspired me to become a writer and an actress. I remember thinking: how can I escape into these places like a Triwiz.ard Tourn.ament? Or a quiddi.tch game? I'd have to be an actress and get on set! There's still FB.AWTFT movies coming out... my time to shine is AT HAND . . . I also admire Emma SO MUCH and really look up to her as a person and an actress. The third movie and third book are my favorite. The spine of POA is completely broken and a whole chunk of the book comes out.

I am a huge Disn.ey fan as a side branch of my love for fantasy. Everyone in my life knows this, but as I'm older now and more educated I've learned to take all the movies with a grain of salt, both past and present (Ok, but 2015 Ci.nderella might be the darn perfect exception). The Little Mermaid is my favorite (hence why I use her as my mun icons!) But I mean, she was sixteen and if she knew how to write why didn't she read the fine print in that contract?!

The Little Mermaid was huge for me. I knew all the words to the songs right away. I think it really inspired my love of fantasy (my fav creatures being mermaids and fairies). I think it also spawned my love of redhead characters like MJ Wat.son, Firestar, Jean Gr.ey, Kim Po.ssible, Natash.a Romanov and Thumbelina! Ariel shows how following your heart is a good thing, even if it's scary and takes you away from your comfort zone and safe people. Love can cross worlds so that a mermaid and human can be together! ROMANTIC AS HELL.

Last but not least I must absolutely give a shout out to the REAL world by marking the Austen Era. Granted her works are non-fiction, but they take place in our world in a historic time of lovely flower printed dresses and ribbons! (I'm actually reading an Austen-esque book right now!) I definitely inherited my romantic 18th century whimsy from my mother (who was SEATHING that The Tenant Of Wilford Hall did not result in happy matrimony). Also in historical fiction: Doctor Zhivago! It is my favorite book and I am a SUCKER for the Keira adaptation for Masterpiece Theatre.

To sum up, I love tall dark handsome broody boys mostly with brown eyes and shaggy hair (with a few exceptions), but I love strong female characters the most. Those like Gwe.n Stacy, Lizzie Benn.et, Sab.rina Spell.man or Elizabeth Swan.n who adapt, grow and stay true to themselves. Soft glitter heart girls like Sail.or Moon, Tohru H.onda and Catherine Mo.rland are just as important and loved!

Childhood characters I grew up loving: the velveteen rabbit, the steadfast tin soldier, fairytale princesses and princes, chrysanthemum the mouse, the kissing hand raccoon, marshmallow the white fluffy bunny, Madeline, pooh & friends and peter rabbit.

#you all just got a lonnnngggg look behind the curtain!#thank you for such thoughtful in depth asks!#I loved thinking about all the characters I love!

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whumpster-fire · 3 years

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Hi, Tumblr! It’s your favorite cartoon star and overall badass, Wendy Weasel! IHC left a little crack in the fourth wall, and as you know us weasels can slip through a space one sixth the thickness of a human hair, so I’ve taken over this blog for April Fool’s Day. You probably won’t notice any difference other than the posts actually being on topic instead of making stupid jokes about a ship stuck in a canal.

And “on-topic” means... “whump?” Seriously, that’s a stupid name - anyway, apparently this sick fuckin’ creep made an entire blog dedicated solely to torturing fictional characters. Can ya believe it? Obviously even reading about such twisted, wanton cruelty is going to scar my young, impressionable mind for life, but based on my meticulous study of this blog, I think I can write prompts that are completely indistinguishable from the ones usually posted on this blog. Check this out!

(Jokes aside, this is going behind a cut for jokes about animal cruelty and suicide, read at your own risk)

Imagine the whumpee attempting to rollerblade down an endless flight of stairs. The moron. The dunderhead. The absolute buffoon. Imagine your favorite character immediately losing control, falling, and tumbling down the unyielding concrete steps like an idiot slinky. Imagine them breaking the sound barrier, hitting a landing, and their rollerskates disintegrating on impact. Imagine the whumpee lying, bruised and broken and mangled at the bottom on an infinite flight of stairs, in a pool of their own blood, as bystanders point and laugh and take videos to put on Youtube. Imagine a single rollerblade wheel bouncing down the stairs and smacking them in the face.

Imagine the whumpee slipping on a banana peel. And breaking their spine. And then being in a wheelchair for the rest of their life. But then their wheelchair also slips on a banana peel and flips over. And they can’t get up, so they have to crawl around everywhere. But then their strength gives way, and they collapse from exhaustion... onto the original banana peel. Which is really fucking gross because it’s been like a month by now. And that causes them to throw up in their mouth.

Imagine a box of meowing kittens. Imagine all of them being taken home by kind, loving owners, except one. The kitten’s all alone in the box. Orphaned. No friends. And it’s raining. Imagine your favorite character walking by, and hearing the tiny kitten crying, and their heart being moved by such a pathetic sight. Imagine them reaching into the box and picking the little kitty up. Heartwarming, isn’t it? Now imagine them picking that little kitty-cat up by the scruff of its neck. Imagine them taking a lighter and, uhh, breaking it open and pouring all the lighter fluid on the kitten. And then taking another lighter and setting it on fire. And drop-kicking it onto the busy freeway. And the kitten being run over by a truck. And then as it’s lying there, guts all over the fucking pavement, meowing “Why doesn’t anyone love me?” imagine a guy on a motorbike stopping and walking up to the kitten. And stomping on its face. Because it’s still on fire. See, this is the realism and internal consistency Whumpster-Fire prides himself on, he’s really fucking full of himself. And then a limousine screeches to a halt, but runs over the kitten again anyway, and a Hollywood talent agent steps out. And he goes “Oh my god, what a heart-wrenching emotional performance! What do you call it?” And your favorite character says: “The Aristocats!” And then Mickey Mouse shows up and he runs the kitten through a meat grinder and sues it for copyright infringement!

Imagine a dragon. But it’s a nice dragon. It’s a nice adorable tiny baby dragon but nobody knows it because humans are mean and nasty. Get it, I’m subverting fantasy tropes by having the monster be the good guy. Aren’t I original? My Nobel Prize in literature’s in the mail, I swear. Anyway, imagine a bunch of evil knights kicking the baby dragon, and hitting it with swords, and then stapling its wings to a billboard and leaving it up there. Forever.

Imagine the whumpee’s this sad-eyed raccoon kid, who’s a criminal because raccoons are sneaky. And he gets caught and taken to jail because he’s not as sneaky and clever as he thinks he is. And all the other criminals all make fun of him because he has this stupid fucking fake British Oliver Twist accent. And his voice always cracks and gets really squeaky whenever anyone calls him a Trash Panda. So he’s sad and he ties his orange prison jumpsuit into a knot and hangs himself from the bars. The end.

Imagine the whumpee is a robot who gets kidnapped and they smash dents with her with a crowbar and force her to wear clown makeup, and go out on stage and perform for a bunch’a dumbass kids, but nobody likes her because clowns aren’t funny. So she snaps and tries to scare the kids instead, but nobody scared of her because clowns in horror is so fucking overdone. And they all boo her and throw tomatoes at her, and the clown robot just stands there and cries tears of oil that ruin her clown makeup.

Imagine the whumpee’s a fairy, but with bird wings because he saw what happened to the kitten and doesn’t want to get sued by Disney. But then he flies into one of those bug zapper things and gets electrocuted - but he’s still alive - and then a bunch of kids burn him with a magnifying glass.

Imagine the whumpee shivering, and trembling, and whimpering, and breathing heavily, for ninety paragraphs straight, until they pass out from exhaustion and boredom at the repetitive writing.

Imagine the whumpee getting stripped naked and chained to a bed... and then the bed getting thrown out a window and the whumpee getting sliced to ribbons by the glass cuts, and then falling into an icy cold river and nearly drowning! Gotcha, didn’t I? This is a family friendly blog, so that means no actual porn, only torture porn!

Imagine a cute, innocent puppy being horribly mauled to within an inch of its life by other dogs, and dragging itself across five miles of rusty nails and broken glass and barbed wire, but then the caretaker picks it up and cuddles it and gives it a band-aid so everything’s fine.

Imagine the whumpee slowly sinking into quicksand. Nah, how about a tarpit. Or that slime stuff they have on Nickolodeon.

Imagine the moment when the whumpee realizes they’ve just walked off a cliff and there’s no ground underneath them, and looking back with a really sad look on their face before they start falling.

Imagine the whumpee is a pokemon who gets caught by Michael Vick and forced to brutally fight other pokemon and get mauled over and over and over.

Imagine the whumpee sobbing into a bowl of Cheetos as they realize nobody reads their fucking animal cruelty torture porn or cares about their dumbass opinions, and nobody’s laughing at their shitty bloodstained solo cup background image.

Wow... y’know, I really think I’ve captured the essence of this blog perfectly. You might as well just shut it down after this, it’s all downhill from here. I’ve broken “whump” down to its bare essentials. All the emotion! All the character development! All the poetic imagery! Hey, maybe I should just run this blog all year round! I’m obviously a way better writer than you - although that’s kinda scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Fuck it, I’m going to bed. Actually, nah, I’m printing this out for Riley to read. Maybe he’ll recognize himself in one of the characters, who knows...

#whump #whump prompts #whump meta #april fool's day #shitpost #Wendy Weasel (OC)#animal abuse tw #gore tw #fourth wall damage tw #suicide tw #I apologize for my OC's fucked-up sense of humor

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twstankin · 4 years

Text

Revisions ( My Twst Persona Au )

(Edited Version for spelling mistakes)

Prologue - Part One

Wake Up Call

It’s finally here! Part one of the story! Still super nervous but y’all seemed to like the Scarabia sneak peek. It’s gonna be a bit before we get there. I also have to note, it’s going to be awhile before we get to the juicy persona stuff because this story follows the game’s plot. I apologize for any errors, but no beta we die like men here. If anyone wants to beta read for me I’d be really greatful~

I hope you enjoy!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first thing Yuu’s mind registered when they drifted into consciousness was the rattling of a door. The second thing was how uncomfortable their body felt, like they were crammed into a small space. They were laying on their back on top of a wooden surface. They tried to shift their body to provide comfort, but they were stopped by the walls of the box. What the hell was going on? Are they dead? Kidnapped? Buried alive? Their cynical thoughts were interrupted by a scuffing sound from the world outside their dark boxy prison.

“Gotta hurry. People are coming. Gotta get a uniform…!” The lid rattled again, but with more force this time. Yuu found themselves frozen as they tried to comprehend what exactly was going on.

“Grr! Why is it so heavy? Open! Open!” The voice outside panted. Yuu was tempted to call out for help or try to push against the lid themself. “Time for my secret move! Fu~naaaa~!”

The box became an oven in an instant. Were they being cremated?! “GYAAAAAAAAAAH! HOT HOT HOT!” They screamed as they pressed their back onto the wooden one of the box. They squeezed their eyes shut and tried to move away from the heat. It was useless, but what else could they do? The heat left as quickly as it came. They heard the sound of the lid popping off and slowly opened up one eye.

They were met with the blue eyes and smug grin of… a raccoon? A cat? Whatever it was, it had grey fur and a white fluffy belly. A tattered black and white striped bow had been tied around its neck. Yuu could have confused it with a normal animal, except for the blue fire that lined its ears and the forked devil tail.

“Hehe~ your uniform is mine~.” The creature spoke. The voice fit the little monster. It hopped into the box and on top of Yuu and began to fiddle with the purple and black robes they wore. They didn’t have a chance to question their sudden wardrobe change, because their reflexes kicked in at the moment. They hoisted their body up which caused the monster to be knocked off of them.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Geh-?! WHY ARE YOU UP?!”

Yuu blinked. “A talking raccoon in a room full of floating coffins… is this hell?”

The offended look on the monster's face made their heart drop. “I am not a raccoon! I am the great grim!” He huffed. “Whatever. Oí human! Give me those robes!”

Did… Did that fucking raccoon just order them to strip?!

“Otherwise…” flames erupted around the two and Yuu found themselves moving away from the sudden heat again. “I’ll roast ya!”

While Yuu didn’t doubt that he would, but they had dignity! Anger flooded their body. This pint-sized little-. “Over my rotting corpse!” They yelled and yanked themselves out of the coffin. They booked it to the first entrance they saw.

“Oí! Get back here!” The raccoon’s voice faded away as they ran as fast as their legs would take them.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After a mad dash through various rooms and hallways before Yuu found themselves in a library. ‘A perfect place to hide!’ A bit cliché but they were in no situation to judge. With their back pressed to a bookshelf, the reality of what was going on set in. “If I am dreaming, somebody please wake me up.” Unfortunately for them, blue fire ripped them from their thoughts a second time that night.

“Hehe, stupid human! You can’t escape from the great Grim’s awesome nose!”

‘Ah. He found me.’

“I’ll say it again, hand over the robes or get burned to a- GYAA!” A whip wrapped around the monster and restrained him. “Ow! Where did this cord come from?” A figure behind him glared down at the him.

“This is no mere cord! It is a whip of love!” The mysterious man who had just saved their life was oddly dressed. He looked like a train driver. A coat with a blue collar and feathered shoulders rested on his back and a matching top hat with the same blue ribbon and feathers sat on his head. Under the coat his clothing was relatively normal. A black vest, tie, and pants with a white dress shirt. The truly odd thing about his appearance was the bird mask that rested on his face. His eyes didn’t show very much aside from the glowing yellow pupils.

“Ah, I finally found you. Are you perhaps the missing student?” He turned to Yuu. “You really shouldn’t go off like that! Leaving the gate on your own!” He glared at the raccoon again. “And your familiar isn’t even tamed! Another violation of the school rules!”

Both the monster and Yuu objected to that statement. No way was this hairball their familiar! After all the hell he’s put them through…

“Oí let me go! I’m not their familiar!”

“Right… he’s not-“

Birdman shook his head before cutting Yuu off. “Sure sure. The most rebellious ones always say that. Just zip it.” Then he gagged the monster. “How troublesome are you? A new student like yourself leaving the gate all on your own…”

“Never mind that, we’re late to the opening ceremony. Please follow me to the hall of mirrors.” Birdman began walking towards the exit dragging Yuu and the monster with him.

“Wait a moment… new student? And what’s a gate?” Yuu still had no idea about what was happening before them. They were already enrolled in a school from the few hazy memories that remained, and where the hell were they?!

Birdman acknowledged them this time, “ The room you awoke in, the one with all the doors. Those who wish to be students here must pass through one of the doors to arrive here. Normally, students wake up only after the door is unlocked with a special key but…” he trailed off.

“Oh… so those coffins. They were actually doors.”

“The culprit here seems to be this familiar!” He tugged at Grim. “The rules state that if you are going to bring one, then you must take care and responsibility for it.” He paused for a moment. “Now isn’t the time to be scolding you. The ceremony will be done soon, so let’s hurry.” He nudged Yuu towards the door but they still had questions that needed to be answered. “Hold on! Where am I? And who are you?”

“Hm? It appears the transportation magic has left you disoriented. It happens often! I’ll explain as we make our way, for I am so gracious.”

‘Gracious? Does everyone around here have an ego?’

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once they entered what Yuu could call a courtyard, Bird man began to fill them in.

“You are currently In Night Raven College's Main building. This is a school for magicians blessed with a unique aptitude for magic from all over the world. It’s one of the most prestigious magical academies in Twisted wonderland. And I am the Headmaster, appointed to watch over this academy, Dire Crowley.” It was nice to finally stop calling him birdman all the time. But one thing was off.

“Magician? I think you have the wrong guy…”

Crowley ignored the last part of Yuu’s sentence in favor of continuing his explanation. “Only those magicians dubbed worthy by the dark mirror can attend this school. Potential students use the gates and are summoned from all over the world.”

This dark mirror had clearly screwed up… unless Yuu was like a book protagonist and had a secret magic power?! Excitement and ideas of what might be raced through them.

‘I take back my wish! I don’t want to wake up yet!’

“An Ebony carriage that carries the gate should have gone to meet you.” Alas poor Yuu could not remember such A thing. Hopefully their memories would come back to them soon. “The Carriage goes to welcome new students chosen by the dark mirror. A long time ago the market decided that carriages are used for special occasions to welcome people.”

“And where is this market?”

Crowley ignored him once again. ‘For someone so gracious he’s quite rude…’ “Come. We’re almost at the entrance ceremony.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The room that Crowley brought them to was packed full of students dressed in similar robes as Yuu, Black robes with purple and gold accents. It seemed as if the ceremony was already over. Students stood in large groups talking with each other, as other students began preparations to leave. It was nerve wracking to say the least. All of them could use magic? It was a bit of a scary thought. They all had a huge advantage over poor little Yuu! Most even towered over them.

“I am here~” Crowley called out into the room. All eyes turned to the trio. Yuu sunk into the hood of their robe. “Ah there he is.” A student said. “We were missing a student! I went out to go find them, for I am so kind~” he stopped addressing the mass of students and turned to Yuu. “As the only person left who has yet to be assigned a dorm, I shall keep the raccoon company. Go, step in front of the dark mirror.” Yuu did as they were told.

The walk to the mirror felt like a lifetime. Every pair of eyes in the room was trained on them. ‘No pressure.’ The so-called dark mirror floated in the middle of the room. It was larger than Yuu, and it had a beautiful golden trim. Green fire and a white mask with gold accents was reflected back at them. It was so cool, and Yuu had a feeling that they had seen this same mirror before.

“State thy name.”

“Yuu.”

“Yuu… The shape of Thy soul is…”

‘Here it comes…!’

“I do not know.”

‘...What?’

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Well here we are! God am I tired. Once I post this I’ll head to bed ;w;

... probably.

Tags: @lionheartanotheraccount @kimmy-banana

(If anyone wants to be tagged just ask me and I’ll happily do so)

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just-call-me-johnny-archive · 3 years

Text

The following contains mentions/implications of abuse, attempted sexual harrassment, mentions/implications of past sexual abuse/assault, graphic depictions of homicide/torture, mentions/implications of past suicide attempts, implications of police/military violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Johnny didn't learn for a while what the house wanted from him. It was clear that it demanded something of him. The ceiling seemed too low, mold-ridden even if he couldn't see any. The floors were freezing- wooden and splintering, but he hadn't bled once despite getting some shards embedded painfully into his hands when he searched the ground for his pencils after the moon went down.

Every number he called about the electricity going out lead to a dial tone. His phone was strangely the only electronic- the only appliance- that still worked in the house. He had no idea how much time had passed since he'd been left in the bathroom to die and woke up with stark scars on his forearms, the shower curtain draped over his body, and the bathtub dry as a bone. And Vargas gone. For good it seemed.

He almost wanted to believe it was a nightmare- that it all was a nightmare. So he tried to pick his life back up as he stepped out of the bathtub and went to find clothes and the thermostat.

One day, he found a bill on the table in front of the TV. He couldn't remember when he'd received any mail recently- let alone opened it. Even stranger than the bill was the message that had been printed on it. There wasn't any amount under 'AMOUNT DUE.' The only other print on the paper was red text reading 'UTILITY SERVICE TERMINATED DUE TO NONPAYMENT. REMIT PAYMENT TO CONTINUE SERVICE.'

There wasn't an address or a phone number to contact regarding the bill. Johnny was left confused over how to alleviate this debt. He didn't know who, when, where, or what. The only thing that he still had control over was the 'how.' He needed a job.

After digging around for a week or so, Johnny managed to uncover his portfolio that he'd submitted copies of alongside Edgar. He was not about to go back there- they loved his boyfriend and always doubted Johnny's judgment.

There was a new comic publishing company; a start-up with a promising, rich CEO that was recruiting new styles. Macabre. Gothic. Grotesque. Mindfuck. It was perfect for Johnny.

He put on the best outfit from his closet, something with a blazer and no rips in the jeans. He'd done his hair until the two antennae that hung over his face were hidden amongst the rest of his combed blue hair. Johnny walked into the office feeling confident that his second chance at life had been a blessing or a reward for surviving.

Everyone working at the company currently was skinny, wired, and brutal. Nobody seemed to actually be creating anything- instead, they were all busy working on photo manipulation and advertisements. There also seemed to be someone altering a passport photo meticulously.

Johnny's meeting with the CEO started off alright enough. The man listened to the artist speak about his work and he even asked a few things here or there. He asked something about the paint choice and Johnny responded in a way that he hoped didn't sound too try hard but also genuine. In truth, Vargas didn't let him use anything else.

Maybe he could sense that. Maybe the man could tell that Johnny was an easy target. Maybe Johnny had painted 'patsy' on his forehead in asshole-vision invisible ink.

Whatever had caused the conversation to turn towards Johnny's personal life- particularly his relationship status- was unimportant. He wanted to leave, but he figured that the man would probably ask that for reference purposes or perhaps personally-identifying information. Johnny told the CEO that he was single, recently left a relationship with his ex-fiance. The way that the man reacted should have said enough to him, but he tried to reason with his brain; he was overreacting.

But to put it crudely, the CEO wanted fresh meat and Johnny was a free-bleeding fresh cut. Eyes still clear. Silent like a fish out of water, when he moved over and started massaging Johnny's shoulders, saying how awful that must have been. That he was there for him. That he was recently divorced himself. He understood.

Johnny felt his hand being moved, heard a zipper being pulled down, and when the CEO moved his mouth to press against his ear, all Johnny remembered was that he had the other man's letter opener embedded in the space directly below his eye socket. He registered the crack of bone giving under unforgiving metal. The burst of red sprayed across his face and his shirt. The screaming. His screaming.

He was on his knees over the blubbering, defaced CEO shouting out as if he was emptying every last moment of anger or shame or hurt into the puncture marks that kept adding up. Johnny wasn't sure if he was crying or that his body was finally catching up- maybe he was having a heart attack.

He has no idea how long he kneeled on the grimey black floor of the CEO's office before he realized that nobody was coming. Surely, someone must have heard them. Was the police waiting right outside the door- bullets trained on him- ready to shoot to kill? The man who was under Johnny's blade was miraculously still alive- dying- but still actually alive and he only then heard the tiny whimpers of 'please, don't kill me' 'I'll change.'

Johnny grabbed the man's stripped, bloodied face, digging his fingernails into the wounds, and his heart sung with the screeches that rung throughout the office. There was nothing else there except for Johnny and the filth disguised as a human being.

He listened to him plead, held his face in his hands as the man continues to plead pathetically. Johnny's heart nearly jumped this time when he claimed 'he'd change'.

"No; you won't." His voice was venomous, low and angry in a way that sounded calm. "You will never change. You know what happens when I give people like you the opportunity to change? Do you? They stop for a little while, sometimes days, sometimes decades, because they're so fucking scared for their life. For jail time, for repercussion, Hell maybe for the Devil himself coming to fuck them up the ass for what they've done. But when the Devil doesn't come, when the tabloids remain silent, when the name becomes deceased or missing or disappears completely, you go right back to what you'd been doing before. You put your fingers or your face or your dick wherever you want because you think you're untouchable. You think you are above the lives that you've ruined. You think that they deserve it- or maybe that you deserve it for being so good for so long, right? Well, guess what?"

"You won't get to do that because I'm going to end your life right here, right now. I'm going to end whatever cycle of abuse that may or may have swept you up and corrupted you - brought you to believe you somehow are entitled to this pain that you inflict on others. And I'm going to enjoy it."

The man was able to only let out a sharp 'please, no' before Johnny grabbed his skull and twisted it until he heard a snap and the person below him had turned into a corpse. Into a past tense.

He was coated in blood.

Johnny dropped the body unceremoniously before he shakily got onto his feet. It was copious. It was gruesome. He threw up into a potted plant near the door. He gathered his portfolio into his arms and picked up his application from the CEO's desk. Johnny slipped the single piece of paper into the paper shredder, watching it turn into dozens of tiny bits of future bunny bedding.

He braced himself before he stepped into the workplace. He expected a lot of things. He expected to see a huge stack of chairs and terrified workers huddled behind them like frightened raccoons. He expected SWAT, FBI, CSI, NCSI, the Navy, Army, Air Force, Coast Guard, and the Marines. He expected to have a bunch of horrified, traumatized faces staring back at him.

Instead, they looked annoyed. And the only people who were annoyed were the ones whose desks were closest to the CEO's office door. They glared at him, sneering like he was covered in shit and not in blood. Then they were completely disinterested. He was just some freak. They gossiped amongst themselves, but otherwise didn't approach Johnny.

The man tore out of the comic publishing building and ran all the way home. It was midday- in the middle of December or January, where the sun was absent and the wind was unforgiving. Johnny had sweat through his stained clothing and the temperature change between the outside and the inside of his house was minute. The only shelter he had from the Winter chill was just covering from the elements.

Johnny walked into the bathroom and over to the bathtub and tossed the downed shower curtain out of the way. The water was freezing and felt like needles against even his clothed skin as he attempted to wash away the blood. It streamed down, staining the white porcelain as it streaked off of him and into the drain.

The man had put his head against the tile, directly under the showerhead as he held himself. His eyes were shut tight, so it took him a moment of brief confusion before he opened his eyes to the bright lights of the bathroom and a gradually increasing warm shower.

The water was perfect now and after getting past the initial shock, he undressed and continued to clean himself off the best he could. All that remained after he finished was the blood caked under his fingernails. He would cut them later.

Johnny dried off using a somewhat warm, scruffy towel, it had been hanging there on the rack since he first awoke in the bathroom. He wrapped it around himself before he explored the rest of the house. It was warm, and the lights were all on. The electronics were all buzzing in a way they hadn't unless in memories. He opened the fridge and found that the food in there had not rotted. He picked out some lunch meat from a drawer and savored the usually incorrigible processed salty ham. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. Or the last time he slept.

He needed clothes. He needed to get rid of the clothes at the bottom of his tub. Johnny went over to the bedroom where he hadn't tread since awakening. The light was on. The bed was still done but looked slept in. He went and grabbed the first shirt and pants and underwear that he found and then quickly went to clean up the mess in the bathroom.

He wrung the blazer out, pink-red water had poured and then streamed and then dribbled. He repeated this with the pants and then the shirt and his underwear and socks. His boots were not salvageable. That's fine. It was all fine.

At least for now he did not have to immediately worry about paying the bill. In fact, the house felt warmer when he returned inside after he buried the clothes under the dirt of his dead front lawn. Johnny found a new paper attached to his freezer. He figured he'd missed it when he first went for the ham.

He took it down after he grabbed a bag of microwavable pizza pocket bites. Johnny didn't know what it meant and how it happened, but he didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was given another chance for a reason. He gnawed at his fingernails as he watched the plate spin in the microwave and the house hummed with life as it was finally fed.

'PAYMENT RECEIVED.

UTILITY SERVICE WILL RESUME AS NORMAL.

EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY.

THANK YOU.'

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boldly-ho · 4 years

Text

Another Life - Chapter 8

Fandom: What We Do in the Shadows

Pairing: Vladislav x Reader

Series Rating: M

Word Count: 1358 (she a short bitch, but it’s setting up the next chapter, which is a biggie)

Chapter Summary: You finally get to meet your fourth flatmate, and he’s not quite what you expected. You feel guilty about your growing friendship with the guys.

A/N: As always, cross posted to AO3.

You woke the next morning with a massive headache, unsure of how you managed to make it home. You were on top of the bed, rather than tucked into it, and you still wore your favorite black dress. Thankfully, though, you had the presence of mind to take off your shoes before collapsing in bed. The underwire of your bra dug painfully into your skin, and you decided then and there to wear sweats today. You rolled onto your side to find your phone and check the time, but instead found a glass of water, two pills, and a note on your bedside table.

‘Y/N, thanks for coming out with us tonight. Please drink the water and take the painkillers; I’m sure you’ll need them.’ The impeccable script gave away the writer, but it was nonetheless signed by Viago. You took the pills, chugging the water until it was gone and then gasping for air. You were horribly dehydrated, and wondered just how many drinks you’d had last night.

Making your way to the bathroom, you were greeted by a pathetic raccoon in the mirror. You hadn’t changed your clothes, nor had you washed your face, apparently. You wiped the mascara from under your eyes, but only made it worse. It would probably just be easier to shower.

You sat at the bar of Boogie Wonderland for the eighth night in a row. Ninth night in a row? You’d lost count. You sipped your drink slowly. You didn’t want to get drunk, but you knew they’d frown on you sitting at the bar every night and never actually ordering anything.

Your eyes never left the door. You sat and waited from five o’clock until closing time every night. You needed to see him again. The man you’d chased. He’d known you; you knew he had. He could tell you what you needed to know.

You felt almost crazed. How could you sit here, every night, all alone, waiting for someone who wouldn’t come, to give you the answers to questions you didn’t even have?

Please, please, please, come into the bar.

You went home disappointed yet again, and so desperately lonely.

Rummaging through the fridge, you felt a presence behind you. Had the sun set already?

“Hey,” you greeted, head still in the fridge. Whichever one it was didn’t respond. Finding nothing appetizing, you stood up and shut the fridge. You turned to speak to your flatmate, but froze in fear.

The thing standing in front of you wasn’t Deacon, Vladislav, or Viago. It didn’t even look human. The creature wore long dark robes and was pale, almost bluish, and tall, with pale eyes and long, pointed fingers. Worst of all were the teeth. Each was elongated and pointed, a grotesque mouth full of fangs.

His eyes were fixed on yours as you stood there, unable to even speak, let alone move. You were hyper aware of your racing heart.

“Petyr!”

You both turned in unison to see Deacon standing at the doorway.

“Petyr! Go back downstairs! I’ll bring you something to eat later.”

Relief washed over you. Petyr. Of course. He was taking this vampire thing to an aesthetic extreme, surely, but you you were relieved not to be facing some creature, or home intruder, or… something…

Petyr turned away, moving slowly, his robes swirling around his legs as he exited the kitchen and returned, presumably, to his basement dwelling.

“Are you okay?” Deacon asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, fine. Just startled, I guess.” Your eyes lingered on the doorway through which Petyr had just exited. “He’s more, uh,” you struggled to find the correct word. Intense, maybe? “Just, more, than you three are.”

Deacon’s eye narrowed. Not in anger, but in confusion, it seemed. Maybe suspicion? After a long pause he spoke. “He’s older than us.”

You nodded, though his response had confused you rather than cleared anything up. You decided to change the subject. “Thanks for getting me home safely last night, and for helping me with that creep at the bar. I was pretty out of it. I don’t actually remember anything after our talk, when we were sitting at the bar.”

“Really? Well, you seemed to be having a pretty good time.” His smile seemed to imply he was holding something back.

“Oh, crap. What did I do? Did I throw up?”

Deacon laughed. “No, no, nothing that bad. You just come out of your shell quite a bit when you drink. You danced a lot, and you talked a LOT.”

You grimaced. “What about?”

“Everything.”

You turned to the new voice, and saw Vladislav entering the room.

“Sorry,” you offered. “I hope I wasn’t too obnoxious.” You’d been known to get that way when drinking.

“No,” Deacon said, “you were a riot.”

Better than being obnoxious. You’d take it.

“Viago’s just glad we’re all friends now,” Vladislav said.

For the briefest of moments, you were glad too. For a millisecond, you were all friends and everything was good.

But the feeling didn’t last long, and suddenly reality came crashing back around you as you thought about the blood, and the coffins, and the cool silver necklace tucked under your t-shirt.

They weren’t your friends. They were completely out of touch with reality. They actually thought they were vampires. Not only did they think they were vampires, sometimes they actually killed people about it. And you’d spent the previous night partying with them.

A wave of guilt rolled over you, so heavy that for a minute you couldn’t breathe. You should go the police. Why hadn’t you? You didn’t know why. Fear? Maybe, though the fear came and went, and you were less and less frightened of them every day.

There was probably some level of cognitive dissonance. There were your flatmates that you were becoming friends with. The ones who held normal flat meetings and said hi as they passed you in the house and left you painkillers after a night of heavy partying. And those flatmates were different from the ones who were dripping in blood and delusion.

Except they weren’t.

You thought again of Kura, the missing woman you’d never seen but whose blood you were fairly certain you’d wiped from your foot with a damp tissue.

You felt light-headed.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Vladislav put his hand on your shoulder, and you violently yanked yourself away from him.

He looked almost hurt by your reaction, and you quickly apologized. “Sorry, I just spaced out a bit and you startled me.”

“Y/N just met Petyr,” Deacon offered, misplacing the source of your sudden and, to them, seemingly unprompted unease.

The two shared a look you couldn’t decipher.

“How did that go?” Vladislav asked, almost too nonchalantly.

“Fine. He’s not quite what I expected, though.” To say the least.

Both of them were looking at you so intently. You rambled on just to fill the silence.

“I just met him briefly, though, we didn’t even get a chance to speak. He scared the crap out of me when I turned around and saw him.”

They continued to look at you as if you were a puzzle. Like what you were saying didn’t quite make sense. You wondered if you had said something wrong. Looking between Vladislav standing above you, and Deacon sitting across from you, you were unable to determine at all what either of them might be thinking.

“What?”

“Petyr’s an unusual guy,” Vladislav said as he crossed his arms and leaned back to sit against the stove.

“I noticed.”

“Most people are more… surprised by Petyr than you seem to be.”

You felt almost as though you were being interrogated. You looked to Deacon for guidance, but his face gave away nothing.

Turning back to Vladislav, you answered, “This is a pretty unusual living situation. I guess I’m getting used to it.”

That much was true, and it made you feel ill. Getting used to it.

The answer seemed to satisfy them, and the two began talking about an upcoming dinner party, leaving you free to get lost in your thoughts, the very last place you would want to get lost.

#wwdits #vladislav x reader #vladislav #jemaine clement #another life #al fic

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