#got several more cat-eared characters in the works so stay tuned >:)

[nina-scribbles]

Current wip!!😻 They're just so meow-meow (literally)

[n0tamused]

Hello, sorry if this request doesn’t make sense but I was wondering if you could do headcanons for Tighnari, Alhaitham, Cyno, and Kaveh (you can just pick one if that’s to many) with a reader who has a younger sister who’s like 14 who that they take care of since they don’t have parents, thank you for your time

A/n: Hello! My apologies for this taking so long, some things ended up popping up. But, I do hope you enjoy these. Just them interacting with your sister. Wholesome stuff. I didn't include Kaveh in this one, simply because I don't feel too secure yet in writing him, but once I know him better I'll see to do a follow up 👀 These are not completely proof read

Characters: Tighnari, Cyno, Al-Haitham

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Tighnari:

- Tighnari is arguably the best when it comes to dealing with anyone young. He's got the patience and the needed gentle, but sturdy hand. It's like this with pretty much any kid he comes across, but seeing how close he is with you he takes this even more seriously

- He's caring with your sister from the start, politely introducing himself to her and starting a relaxing chit-chat with her while you go about your business if you're in a rush. He really doesn't mind watching over her as long as he's not in a pinch with the rangers and patrols

- She reminds him of Collei, in a way. He doesn't quite understand why but he pinpoints it onto their shared curiosities for his work. Both girls seem to linger at his back and watch him (and his ears) as he handles plants and papers. He indulges them a little, having them believe that he has not noticed on their clear spying

- Tighnari shares his knowledge with your sister, he enjoys it truly. He loves to share the knowledge that may as well help an individual out - and if your sister decides she wants to be a ranger or some form of biologist, you have Tighnari to blame, or thank. He brings out some specimens to show her if a physical presentation is necessary, or he recommends books for her to read if she's willing to delve further into the subject

- Isn't surprised when she eventually asks to pet his ears or rub his tail. He could practically hear her thoughts when she first met him, but she seemed to refrain from asking on the first meeting. Tighnari would bow down slightly or instruct her to climb up higher if she is really short, and even if she tugged a little, he wouldn't seriously scold her, just warn her not to do it again. Tighnari gives her a small warning just to not be too rough beforehand and that "It's just like any dog or cat's ears", but your sister just seems to find his ears the most special

- It is also no issue if your sister has to stay with him for some time, nights or even weeks if Mora is tight, he would help you both out in any way he can. He has Collei to keep your sister company too, since there is so much he can do as an older person in your sister's life. Collei and she seem to get along very well, so there is no issue regarding their friendship

Cyno:

- Now, it takes Cyno quite some time to come around to have the time to meet your sister. So all she knew about him was what she could hear from merchants or Akademiya students. All the terrible rumors also stick, so it's no wonder when she appears to be too nervous to meet him when you brought it up. She would need some confirmation and encouragement that, no, General Mahamatra is not as the boogeyman most describe him as

- Cyno may come off as unfeeling on the first go, as he is the man of analytical mind and one that isn't too in-tune with his emotions naturally, but also since his job does not allow for such soft sympathies. So the conversation may feel a bit tense or awkward when he sees that his ways are pulling too hard on the reins, and that your sister is tense or even uncomfortable

- He would definitely crack several jokes to cheer her up, and somehow- miraculously - your sister feels at ease when Cyno rushes to tell the jokes and explain them. Her laugh brings a wave of relief to Cyno, he may even mutter something and just exhale loudly before indulging in some food to take a reprieve. This man has the best intentions - please, give him a hand, he is a bit slow with sentimental things

-Now, for later interactions between him and your sister, they all become a lot more casual and friendly, your sister would put a lot of trust in him. If his reputation was not enough to guarantee reliability, the friendship they build over time is. She is much more often with him, and some may look weirdly at your sister and Cyno if they see her talking her mouth off about some off-topic with him wearing a faint smile as they go to find you

-It is a cute sight honestly. And also - Cyno has a habit of picking up small trinkets on his way. It can be anything small as a crystalized shard from the dunes, or some luxurious looking missing vase from the forest, and he brings them all back to you and your sister - giving more romantic gifts to you behind your sister's back

Al-Haitham:

-Is the most jaded out of these three. He is not easily affected by emotions, and as such he can come off as quite rude to others around him, or too strict or too stern. It takes him the longest to get the gist of the kids these days, but he does try. He is incredibly understanding despite outwards impressions, and he understands the struggles you both are going through and he does try his best when he ends up with your sister in his care

-Taking the analytical approach all the time proves not to be affective all the time - and this is something Al-Haitham gets to understand later down the line as he gets closer to your sister

-Similar to Cyno, he attempts to remedy awkward situations with some form of jokes, but his humor at the start just is too stern for a child. His jokes needs more working on than Cyno's. But Al-Haitham is adaptable, and he picks up the humor of the kids at that time and slowly this goes into his advantage when he tells these jokes and funny riddles to your sister

-He is quite protective of your sister from the get-go. Seeing as she is an important part of your family, the last of it, he takes it very, very seriously that your sister is safe and out of harms way. Although the other two on this list are also very defensive of your sister, they are much more calm about it and more casual

-Al-Haitham is very observant, and when you sister is in his care he always has his eyes on her, he makes sure she stays in his field of vision where the space is clear and if any changes happen that could be harmful - he would know

- Just as willing to lend his hand in academic knowledge on all sorts of topics. If you woke him up in the night to ask him about all sorts of academic positions within the Akademiya and what they all do, he would break out into an explanation without any questions, and would go to sleep right afterwards. So if your sister came to him for help, he would do his best to simplify the knowledge so she can better understand. He is very open to any questions, but if your sister did end up asking some silly question he would give her a silly answer before elaborating further, unless she caught onto it herself

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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[rainythefox]

Nightfall (CH.16)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her  brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of  cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling  upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she  can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill (There’s Wesker & William Bromance too lol). Rated M for smut, language, violence, adult content.

AO3 Link

Chapter 16: Mine

Warning: this chapter contains lots of smut. You’ve been warned, okay? Okay! :P Because of this, only the first section of the chapter is available on Tumblr. Please follow the link to AO3 to read the rest. Thank you! :)

Okay, she knew her luck had taken a big dump recently, but this was ridiculous! If she thought the university job was difficult, she promptly changed her mind. That was a walk in the park compared to this. Claire stared at all the people. The exquisite party was happening at the ritzy Orient Restaurant on the second floor of the most luxurious hotel in the city, Central Hotel.

There had to be close to a hundred people here! The whole restaurant was closed to cater for the invitation-only event. Why did she even assume this “Christmas Party” was going to be just a group of rich, old dudes bragging all night? With how her luck has been, she should've known better!

Claire gaped at the man beside her who was unfortunately the closest thing she had to a friend at the moment. She recalled William’s little “briefing” on the drive over here.

“The party’s not gonna be that big. Just a simple “get in, get out”. You’ll be home in no time! Actually, you’ll probably be at Al’s home in no time!”

He was still rubbing his arm where she decked him.

“This is nothing like how you explained it!” she hissed.

But the mad scientist only half-heard her, his eyes lit up as though he was a kid about to enter his very first amusement park. Something in here was on his kill list because Claire overheard he wasn’t a stranger to parties, at least not to parties like this that could get him something he wanted. 

William was actually quite handsome all cleaned up in his suit. Claire had grown accustomed to his usual disheveled appearance that made him attractive in his own way.

He grinned slyly. “Oh relax, sweetheart. You’ll be fine. Most of these people are total bores…losers just out trying to feel important. They got nothing on you!” He winked at her. “You know what to do, who to find. Ada’s on your earpiece and Al and I are here to watch your back. Don’t worry. Al _definitely _won’t let you out of his sight. Just…don’t distract him too much. I need him focused tonight.”

“Are you fu-”

“Erica!” William nearly squealed, waving both arms and abruptly abandoning her. “Is that gown designed by Broca’s aphasia? Because I’m speechless!” 

Claire glared at the fickle bastard as he ditched her to join some other people standing around talking and drinking. She was on her own for now.

“Forget about him, Claire. Just focus on getting to Bennett. Best not drag this out longer than we have to and risk exposing ourselves,” Ada said on her earpiece.

“Okay,” she mumbled, and got into character, her natural Redfield bravado and assurance making it easy to stroll through the party like she owned the place.

It was a beautiful Asian restaurant. Most of the dark tables were accented with candles and glasses. The lounge-like chairs were colorful and comfy, and the tall ceilings gave way to soft LED string lights, oriental paintings and sectioned lattices. In warmer seasons, the same kind of setup could be seen on the massive balcony, but it was currently closed off.

She felt many eyes on her as she started her objective. But she only cared about one set of eyes as she discreetly scanned the place for them.

This many people here was both a blessing and a curse for her mission, and it could go either way real quick at any time. More people meant no room for mistakes, too many eyes. But on the other hand, this many people distracted amongst themselves could make it easy to get away with nearly anything.

Claire soon found the eyes she had been seeking, felt the familiar, pleasing burn on her skin they always caused. She traced them to an area with more people, where a grand, gold statue of Lord Yama sat. Directly in front of the god of death, Wesker was encircled by a small group, mostly beautiful women, and he charmed them effortlessly.

The younger Redfield had to keep herself from staring, also charmed by his chameleon smile, good looks, and striking black suit. Her nerves tingled from simmering blood. She couldn’t believe it. She was actually jealous?! Claire was angry with herself. How could she possibly feel anything of the sort over the man that was blackmailing her?

Besides...she knew Wesker well enough by now to know that it was all pretense. She was sickened and enthralled by how easily he could deceive and influence people. Ada was right. His calculating mind, his clever tongue, those were his deadliest weapons; not his hands, not his gun.

The statue of Yama was simply a backdrop to the true god of death in the room. His admirers probably had no clue and listened intently. The women batted their eyes, pushed out their chests, even the ones who had dates. And those men did nothing about it, perhaps too enthralled themselves or maybe it was the fact that Wesker had an uncanny ability to make most men around him submissive.

He may have looked like he was paying attention to them, his eyes concealed behind black shades, but Claire knew he was watching her. All of her. Every breath, every step, he was in complete tune. Something about that lit a fire in her belly so fierce, she trembled.

The jealousy she felt instantly crumbled. It didn’t matter if those women were rich or prettier or dressed in nicer dresses. They meant nothing to him. Not like she did.

And why was that, exactly?

Claire frowned, faltering mid-step, eyes still locked on Wesker across the room when she should've been moving on. She had some suspicions, if her gut and Ada and William were anything to go by. 

More importantly, why do you care?

“Claire?! Earth to Claire, hello?”

“Huh?”

“You aren’t exactly being inconspicuous staying in one spot drooling over Albert.”

Claire’s face flushed and she briskly walked away with a huff. “I’m not drooling!”

The first place she needed to check for her target would be the bar. Typical. It was in the back of the restaurant, low-lit, a massive, semi-circled bar with a marble countertop up against an airbrushed wall depicting a dragon floating through the clouds.

“Whatever you say, hun.”

Claire bit her tongue, taking a deep breath. “I was just happy to see him chatting up other women. Less problems for me.”

Ada sighed. “Claire, fishing is beneath you. First, they aren’t his type. More importantly, Albert detests easy women.”

That wasn’t her intention. “I wasn’t-”

“Unfortunately and fortunately for you, you are his type and are as difficult as they come. I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but you’re as close to obsession as he’s going to get romantically.”

The only fortune she could come up with was that it was unlikely Wesker would kill her. But obsession through people with sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies like Wesker were never a good thing. Her life might be spared at the end of all this...but at what cost?

Claire briskly pushed that thought aside, something cold and heavy dropping in the pit of her stomach. She needed to focus on finding Bennett and getting this over with. That was her excuse. After all, she wasn’t ready to acknowledge that her own growing infatuation would likely veer her into her captor’s arms for good.

She looked around the bar area. There were all kinds of high-status people attending Bard’s Christmas party. Doctors, politicians, city officials, even Mayor Warren and Chief Irons were here.

She recognized Mueller from Raccoon University having a casual conversation with the man that had to be her target. A picture was never granted, but a detailed description allowed her to quickly analyze him. It had to be him. Tall, average build, auburn hair and an anchor beard. He chatted with Mueller with a drink in his hand.

Just as Claire stepped their way, a strong grip snatched her wrist. She was spun around, coming face-to-face with Nathaniel Bard. He looked fine since the anaphylaxis she put him through with the shrimp, but the creep wasn't happy one bit with her, still keeping a painful grip on her arm.

"I knew I'd see your face again, girl. What happened at the university is all your fault."

Claire glared at him. "You're gonna be hurting more if you don't let me go right now."

The music and all the guests chatting around them helped conceal her threat from eavesdropping ears but the Spencer Memorial doctor heard her clearly.

He considered challenging her, lips pursing, but soon let her go after his eyes scanned the numerous faces within the party. "I know you're working with those two bastards. You have no idea how much harm you’ve caused me and several of my colleagues. Lowery was a good man, understand? He had a family. And now I’m trapped doing those two psychos’ bidding.”

“Maybe you aren’t the only one who is trapped.”

“Well then there’s more to your pretty face, isn’t there? They wouldn’t risk it otherwise.”

Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Claire clenched a fist, as it took all of her willpower not to break his damn nose. She had a job to do here. If she caused a scene in the middle of this party, especially with the man hosting it, then she could kiss her freedom and potentially Chris’s life goodbye.

She did let him in on what he was narrowly missing out on by grabbing his hand and twisting it slightly, squeezing hard on a pressure point. Just enough to make it really hurt, just enough to get her point across while looking like she was just holding his hand to nearly everyone else. “If my life didn’t hinge on fulfilling this job, you’d be on the floor with a broken fucking face, do you understand me?”

“Damn, Claire. I like your style,” Ada chimed in.

The younger Redfield ignored her and smiled, showing the guests they were having a pleasant conversation. Bard hissed in pain, quickly nodding. Claire released him and he jerked his hand away, shaking it off with a grimace.

“Listen, I’ll make the job easy for you. Just...do what you need to do and get out of here. Take those assholes with you. And never show your face at one of my social events ever again.”

“I’d love to, but it’s not my call. But...I have a feeling you know exactly who you can talk to about that.”

Bard scowled, rubbing his injured hand. He muttered something under his breath and motioned her to follow him, heading towards Bennett and Mueller in the back of the bar. “C’mon, and follow my lead.”

“Ugh, he better not screw this up.”

Bard put on a welcoming smile once they reached Mueller and Bennett’s table. Mueller recognized her, but didn’t say anything. She barely got a moment’s glare from him before he flashed Bard a guarded look, as if asking “what are you up to now?” The two men stood and the doctor shook their hands.

“Mr. Bennett! I trust you are enjoying the party? What kind of host would I be if I was neglecting my honored guest?”

He looked to be in his thirties maybe. His smile was warm as he nodded. He noticed Claire nearly right away, and there was a definite reaction of some kind. Attraction, she guessed, immediate infatuation. Great…

“Oh yes,” he said in a European accent. “I am grateful to you and Greg’s hospitality. You’ve made being so far from home much more bearable.”

“Good, good! It’s a shame your business partner couldn’t join us this evening. But I’m sure he had his reasons. You two are busy men, after all!”

Bennett nodded, composed yet amiable. “That we are. I’m sorry, but I have to ask, who is this beautiful young lady you have with you?”

Bard didn’t skip a beat in his front, presenting her with a grin like she was a piece of treasure up for auction.

“I know, stunning right? This is Elza. She’s one of my...assistants.”

The European man held out his hand with a handsome, friendly smile. It could’ve fooled anyone, and it almost fooled her. But her gut constricted at the last moment, her first indication something wasn’t right about this guy.

He took her hand and kissed it softly. “It is my utmost pleasure, Miss Elza. I’m Stephan Bennett. Please, just call me Stephan.”

Claire put on the sweetest smile she could muster, batting her lashes. “The pleasure’s all mine, Stephan.”

He looked her over, and although he was an attractive man, it made her skin crawl.

“Has Greg taken you up to your suite yet?” Bard asked cordially. “I’ve left you a little treat as a thank you for choosing to stay the night in Raccoon City’s famous Central Hotel!” 

Bennett ripped his eyes from Claire and shook his head at the host. “No, sir. I got the keycard to the room earlier, but wanted to check out the party before retreating for the night.” He presented a friendly, almost sheepish smile. “Honestly, I’m still a little messed up with the time zone changes. I didn’t think it would affect me this much.”

“That’s not a problem. My assistant and I will escort you up there. There’s a little bit of business I’d like to discuss with you anyway,” Bard replied.

“What about your party?”

“Eh, they’ll entertain themselves! Greg will take care of things while I’m gone. It won’t be but a few minutes.” Bennett glanced at Claire, expression unreadable, and Bard quickly added. “My assistant is completely trustworthy, don’t worry. She knows about our research.”

Bennett nodded, relieved. “Alright, lead the way, Nathaniel.”

Claire was uncertain what to do as Mueller shook hands with Bennett and bid them good night before heading for the bar. Her job was to stick a bug on the European businessman, probably so Wesker and William could track him straight to Aaron Roth. Leaving the party just tossed her whole plan into the garbage. This just got way riskier.

Nothing like winging a mission where my life’s literally at stake. What’s the worst that can happen?

“Great,” Ada whispered in her ear, not helping Claire’s gut feeling. “Wesker’s watching and listening through your piece. He says it’s fine. Just get that bug on Bennett without him knowing.”

Was that supposed to make her feel better that Wesker said it was fine? And how exactly was he able to do that anyway? That just made her earlier conversation with Ada a lot more awkward...

With a slight tick of her jaw, Claire composed herself with a friendly smile and followed the two men out of the restaurant and into the fancy, historical hotel.

They went to the lobby, a grand room with high ceilings, bright lights, and expensive carpet and decor. The elevator ride to the fifth floor seemed extra crowded, even though there were just three of them. Bard and Bennett chatted normally about their lives and careers. Claire didn’t like the frequent glances Bennett gave her. She waited for an opportunity, stayed vigilant with that inkling sprouting in her gut.

It got worse when Ada told her she lost visual on her from their location.

Wesker’s making you do this alone because he wants to see how you do, said a small voice in the back of her head. She didn’t have proof, but she wouldn’t put it past him.

She gave vague answers when Bennett asked her something, either curious and flirting or digging and deceiving. She wasn’t exactly sure.

Bennett scanned his card and held the door open to the big, two-bedroom suite. Bard strolled right on in but Claire hesitated, not wanting to put her back to these men. When she did, she felt his eyes all over her, and when he closed the door, he purposely brushed her to get by.

They stepped into the spacious living room first, accented with a bar and impressive kitchen. There was a home theater set up in the den, opposite a wall of glass that displayed downtown Raccoon City. Dark buildings silhouetted within soft glows of lights of all colors. Speckles of white rained down softly outside.

“You meant it when you said this suite had a view,” Bennett stated, drawn to the panorama.

Bard gave her a look, dipped his head in the direction of his “guest”, as if urging her to get her business done. Claire glared at him as he turned off to the bar instead.

“Yes, I did! And over here, something just for you, Mr. Bennett. Your favorite wine. All the way from home!”

“I don’t like this. Are you okay? Cough if you are.”

“How thoughtful of you, Dr. Bard. Thank you. You’ve gone out of your way to make me feel at home here.”

Claire didn’t like it either. She looked around, keeping up her appearance as she joined the men at the bar. She didn’t see any danger, but something like it was lurking about. Whatever it was, she was fine for now.

She coughed. “Oh, excuse me.”

Bennett watched her more than Bard, but she still couldn’t read his expression. Bard took the fancy bottle out of the container of ice. “Shall we have a glass while we talk?”

“Yes. I’d like that.”

That clicked an idea in her brain. Claire put a hand on Bard’s arm, mustering up the realest fake friendly smile she could handle, looking between the two men under thick lashes. “How about you gentlemen take a seat, get comfortable? Let me serve you.”

Bennett’s smile held something darker, but it was gone in a flash. Bard looked at her funny, but composed himself and slowly put the wine down on the counter. “Of course, Elza! You’re always the sweetest thing! Come, Stephan, over here.”

“What do you have planned, exactly?” Ada asked. “Ugh, I hate going by sound alone.”

Her cohorts had lied to her, she realized. William promised Wesker wouldn’t let her out of his sight and Ada said she would watch over her. Wesker didn’t say much to her before the party, but disclosed if she did what she was told, she would be fine. She was alone here and certainly felt something other than “fine” was coming her way.

The doctor and his guest went to the lounge chairs nearby, sitting across from each other. It was the perfect way for Claire to bug Bennett without him knowing. She opened the white wine and poured their glasses, giving them time to get settled in their seats and start talking. The more distracted they were, the better. It also gave her a moment to get the tiny tracking device ready.

The younger Redfield served Bennett first. She caressed her fingers up his arm, across his shoulder, stopped at the back of his neck, squeezing his collar gently. Her flirtatious smile was enough to distract him from Bard when she handed him his drink. She didn’t remain long, crossing to Bard and giving him his drink with the same smile, the same caress that made her skin crawl. She left them and returned to the bar, gathering up the wine bottle and ice bucket and placing them on the table in between the two men.

Claire eavesdropped on their conversation, but a lot of it made no sense to her. Big research, Sheena and Rockfort Island, Roth, Ashfords, prototypes, T-series. All similar topics that Wesker and William discussed and were involved with.

“You know, it’s strange how all of our business associates keep coming up dead or missing since we’ve been in town,” Bennett said after a long sip of his wine.

Bard grew quiet, confused, his fingers clenching around his wine glass. “What…do you mean?”

The European man looked at Claire, like he knew all of her secrets, not near as charming now. “You know what happened to them...don’t you, Miss Walker? Or should I call you Miss Redfield?”

Claire stiffened, nails digging into the chair arms. She dared not blink, glaring at him, keeping calm, but reeling underneath on how to react. He knew her name. Her _real _name.

Shit!

“Shit!” Ada echoed in her ear. “Claire, don’t do anything rash. Hang in there.”

It wasn’t as though she had much of a choice. She was on her own. Bard’s alarmed face told her everything. He was just as surprised as her, but would be too much of a coward to help her.

Claire took a deep breath. “I don’t know what happened to them.”

“I think Dr. Lowery would say otherwise.”

“How do you know my real name?”

The European businessman crossed one leg casually, swishing the wine in his glass, sharp eyes on her. “All it took was a little digging. You really shouldn’t use your mother’s maiden name as an alias, darling. Especially one as unique as hers.”

Cold steel bumped the back of her head. A gun.

Wesker had told her the same thing. Warned her.

She was careless to use it after not being prepared at the university. Now she was in real danger. The other wolves that Wesker claimed he was protecting her from had stalked her right into a corner. Then again, maybe he wasn’t expecting _this _pack. Or maybe he had and was ready to give her up as tribute for his own motives…

“Uh, Stephan, what’s going on, is t-this necessary?” Bard asked.

“Quiet, or you’ll have one to your head also.” Bennett motioned for Claire to stand. “My business partner, Aaron, would like to speak to you one-on-one, Miss Redfield. You have the time, right? You can help fill the gaps on what’s been happening to our dealings. We’re getting warm, but it seems as though everyone is too afraid to give us answers. Whoever you’re working for, we’ll cut you a nice deal if you expose them.”

Claire kept his gaze, defiant, silent. She had no choice but to comply. She had no weapons on her, no way to hide one in this dress. She slowly moved her hands down to her sides, preparing to push herself up, and felt it. The cold, metal coil of a corkscrew. She forgot she had brought it with her while serving the drinks.

Snatching it up between her fingers, she stood. The man who had the gun to her head pulled her out away from the chair. Bennett rose from his seat, finishing his drink and setting the empty glass down.

Bard shot up as well, looking between Claire and his guest, panicking. “Wh-What are you doing?”

There were two other men in suits now. They must’ve been hiding in the suite this whole time. Although they didn’t have weapons drawn, they were probably packing like the one behind her.

“Nathaniel, lying to me that she is your assistant? After what happened to Simon, I’m shocked. Someone’s got you cowering and afraid, just like Greg. Just like our friend the Police Chief.”

“I-It’s n-not what you think.”

Bennett nodded to the other men. They grabbed Bard by the arms, containing him. The European man pulled a gun equipped with a silencer from his suit jacket.

The doctor fought his captors. “Wait! No!”

Claire stabbed the man behind her in the groin with the corkscrew. He cried out as she spun, disarming him and shoving him away where he tumbled to the floor. She grabbed the bottle of wine and threw it at Bennett’s head just as he switched his gun on her. The bottle shattered on his face.

She didn’t get far with running. Not in that dress, not in those heels, before she was snatched by his men. A bash above her temple instantly made the world spin. Still, she fought, as weak as she suddenly felt.

Bennett was soaked, his face earning a few gashes from broken glass, blood mixing with golden-colored wine. He cursed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He grabbed her neck, squeezing hard.

“You little bitch! You’re lucky Aaron wants to speak with you, or you’d be dead!”

That’s when his arm snapped. Like a twig. He screamed. Claire, her vision still hazy from the blow to her head, realized he was attacked. His men were attacked; she was let go. A few blinks and she saw Wesker using some sort of martial arts to swiftly dispose of them. Not Bennett though. He raced away to his escape while holding his limp arm that flopped uselessly as he ran.

The STARS Captain had killed the other three. In seconds. With his hands. He paused, looking to the door where Bennett had fled, as if deciding whether to pursue him. He was over it in seconds though, grabbing her and pulling her to him. Not as rough as she had expected, but gentle wasn’t really in his nature.

“Hold still,” he commanded. She felt his hand on her head. He must’ve been examining the clout she had received. “Are you alright?”

There was some blood on his hand when he withdrew it, and she felt it trickling in her hair. It must’ve been just a small cut, otherwise it would’ve been all over her face by now.

“Yeah,” she said. And she was. It had only made her light-headed for a minute or so.

The nearby chair squeaked as it scooted on the carpet, and a muffled curse came from the other side. Wesker finally looked away from her, jaw clenching. He marched over to the furniture and kicked it. The chair crashed and skidded several feet away. Wesker seized Bard by the collar and picked him up, slamming him into the nearby bar counter. The sound his body made hitting the granite countertop made her flinch, and Bard’s yelp confirmed it.

“Wesker, wait, please! I d-didn’t know! I didn’t! I swear! He was gonna kill me too!”

“He was,” Claire confirmed. 

She had no idea why she defended the asshole, especially when he didn’t offer her any help before. But she could tell he was telling the truth. Wesker paused, but didn’t look at her, probably contemplating what to do with the doctor as he shuddered in his hands.

“Consider your...contract extended indefinitely,” Wesker growled, and shoved him over the other side of the bar. He put a couple fingers up to his ear, the same hidden piece she had. “Ada, William, we’re finished here. Ada, track Bennett. William, tell Irons he has a mess to clean up with Bard and Mueller.”

Bard got to his feet, shaken, his surprised eyes finding hers. The younger Redfield glared at him, a silent message he understood. She had spared him a cruel fate from the Devil. But she wouldn’t do it again.

She returned her gaze to the three bodies around her feet. The one she stabbed with the corkscrew had a snapped neck. The other two looked as though they had suddenly dropped dead, nothing to attribute to the hands of the STARS Captain. But she had seen it with her own eyes. And although it shouldn’t have, it lit a fierce fire in her lower belly, spreading when his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her towards the door.

The flames were fanned when he whispered in her ear, his hand squeezing her hip. “You did exceptionally well, dear heart. You make me proud.”

When Ada told her Wesker would want to take her home after seeing her in her dress, she had denied wanting him to, denied she wanted to go home with him willingly. But after what she saw, how he held her close to him like she was his, and his alone, how his breath upon her ear titillated her, made her receptive to him only, she could no longer deny it.

Claire wouldn’t be able to stand the drive there. She wanted him. Wanted him to take her. She was a liar; it wasn’t just a one-time fling or a mistake. It was going to happen again. And she wanted it to, and would do nothing to stop it.

[cyberaxolotl]

Tricks Over Treats

two versions woo hee

and then the writing piece to go along with it

“An Alternate Desire”

For an all popular DJ, he had a lot more to know about him than what was known to the public, some of which stayed shrouded in mystery to even his boyfriend and closest friends. One of the things he did make very clear to anyone who saw him around that time of year was that he was a HUGE fan of Halloween. Spooky jack-o-lanterns, sweets, costumes, he still thoroughly enjoyed it, even as an adult. He loved remixing classic Halloween tunes to add a more techno vibe to them, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon. And finally, he loved the scares; he was willing to be a bit sick around that time of year with his jokes, as anything scary was widely accepted and usually expected.

Especially not now, when there’s a Halloween party for all the musicians in Rhythm Heaven to attend, as well as any plus 1’s they might wish to have with them. Hosted by the rap men (obviously) and having as many different types of music as you could think of playing one after the other in the main hall, it was going to be a great party to have a good laugh. And for everyone to see any friends they had made since the Battle Of The Bands.

DJ Yellow, of course, had Blue with him. While his boyfriend wasn’t the biggest fan of that scary time of year, he still enjoyed talking to some of the others and seeing them all happy.

“I need to put my costume on in the car, but I’ll be inside in just a moment!” DJ Yellow said, nudging his partner while they were in the entrance hall.

“…Why didn’t you just put it on while we were at the apartment?” Blue asked, turning around. His costume itself was rather plain, he was just dressed as a vampire with a little bit of fake blood on his chin, but he was perfectly happy with that. It was one of the few times of year when he’d go out with his dreadlocks down, too.

“Cause! I wanted it to be a surprise for you too!” Deej gave a quick finger gun, before slipping out the door. His boyfriend sighed, feeling only mildly inconvenienced that he’d need to be alone at a party for a few minutes, and moreover very anxious. He never was one for direct social interaction.

As he walked into the main hall, he was immediately addressed. “Heeey, Blue!” A happy sounding, higher pitched voice called out to him, and he immediately knew who it was. “Where’s Yellow?” B.B. Rocker asked him, standing shorter than him and only around his chest height.

“Yellow’s in the car putting his costume on. Chances are, he just forgot to put it on at home.” He replied, looking down at his friend. They wore a costume that was… on the stranger side, but not out of character for them. It was an orange-white tabby cat suit with a denim dress put on over it, a pair of matching cat ears sitting in their ginger hair. They looked rather cute, if Blue’s bisexual ass could say so himself.

“Ah, so did J.J. He’s getting changed in the bathroom.” They turned away, looking down another hallway in the back of that room.

Blue sighed. “Oh boy…”

“What?”

“J.J.’s here, Yellow’s gonna be here soon. Chances are sometime in the night that is not going to end well.” He folded his arms, glancing away. There were certainly a lot of people there, like MC Adore and her love posse all in matching costumes, the Pop Singer Yui in a cutesy zombie outfit, and apparently even the rap women had managed to slip in, as Rosebud and Sapphie were happily talking to a trio of ghosts. What stood out to him, though, was the fact that the rap men were nowhere to be seen. If they were hosting that gig, they should’ve either been in the entrance hall greeting people, or in the main hall talking.

“Oh, you’re right. Guess we’ll just have to hope they don’t directly cross paths and say something shitty to each other, huh?” B.B. sighed as well, holding the back of their neck.

“You know it’s more likely for J.J. to say something shitty than for Yellow to. Yellow’s not an asshole, he’s just a…” Blue went quiet as he lost his words.

“…A snarky asshole?”

“That.” He motioned in confirmation to them. He looked back over at the rap women, noticing that the Big Rock Finish ghosts were leaving. “I’m gonna go ask the rap women where their brothers are, if Yellow comes in, tell him I’ll be right back.”

“Alrighty!” With that, he walked away, leaving B.B. by the entrance.

As he got closer to the snack table, he was able to tell what Rosebud and Sapphie were wearing as costumes. They were matching, as expected from the two of them, and had gone for a western theme. Rosebud was dressed as a saloon dancer, a crimson skirt falling to the back of her ankles and a corset tied around her waist. It also seemed that she had taken the opportunity to wear something only a bit more revealing than her usual outfits. Sapphie was dressed as a cowgirl, hiding her eyes in the shadow of a ten gallon hat, and wearing open bottom pants. The two certainly matched, but had their own ways of doing it, the mutual color palette between their costumes tying it together.

“Excuse me, girls?” He asked, and the two turned over to face him.

“Oh, hi Blue.” Sapphie humbly waved at him, smiling. “Do you need something?”

“I don’t, but I want to ask- where are your brothers?” The two ladies' expressions tensed.

“Jasper and Goldie? Uh…” Rosebud’s eyebrows furrowed. “…I don’t know, actually. Sapphire?” She looked up at her girlfriend.

The taller woman shrugged. “I haven’t seen either of them since they left the recording studio, but they’re probably somewhere around here. Sorry, Blue.”

“Hm.” Blue looked skeptical, glancing behind him. “Alright then. I need to go back to B.B., you two have fun.” He turned around, his dreadlocks nearly whipping him in the face.

“Bye-bye!” Rosebud said as he walked away.

When he got back over to his rock student friend, they looked confused. “Is something wrong, B.B?” He asked, and they turned to him.

“No, no, nothing. Just… JJ is taking an awful long while to put his costume on. He went in just before you arrived.” They put a hand behind their head, “We’re supposed to be a cat and a dog, so he might be struggling with the suit or something.”

“Now that you mention it, if Yellow is taking this long to put it on, then he really should’ve put it on at the apartment-“

As if on cue, the door opened, and DJ Yellow slid in overdramatically. Since nobody noticed him except BB and Blue, he got up in one quick motion, turning over to them. “Hey guys!” He said happily, walking over. His costume was made of… really dark colors, something completely out of character for him. It was all black with a dark red cape that made his neck completely covered, looking completely out of place while paired with his unaltered hair and headphones. For reasons neither of them could decipher, he also carried a lit jack-o-lantern.

“Hey Yellow..?” BB raised an eyebrow, giving a short wave.

“…” Blue spent several seconds trying to decipher what his lover was wearing, before sighing. “Yellow, what are you supposed to be?”

The DJ walked over and leaned against his taller counterpart’s arm as though he was trying to lean against his shoulder but was just too short to do so. “A surprise.”

“That’s what you said when you were putting ON the costume.” The sarcastic remark made Yellow chuckle.

“Yes, but what I’m gonna do in this costume is also a surprise.”

“Just tell us what the costume is, Deej!” The rockstar leaned in, and mysterious refusal after cryptic refusal soon descended into laughter and casual conversation. It was rare for Yellow to oblige to interact with BB, but Blue was glad that they could get along on a night like that.

But… he still couldn’t downplay it.

Something was wrong.

Or off.

Yellow didn’t sound like himself, nor did his mouth follow his words. His mouth had a delay compared to his words, as though his head and his voice box were working as two separate parts rather than as the same body. His voice sounded less like his smug and casual self was talking and more like some kind of modulation, as though a robot with his voice was reading from a script and trying to sound like a person.

Blue chalked it up to one of two things. One idea was that the tragedy striking Heaven World had hailed itself down to Earth World and struck the man right before him- they were called Alternates, and they took the places of people, making themselves look completely like them- except they had the ability to do things that were biologically impossible, like rip their head off and live, or be engulfed in flames and come out without a scar. Both of those things were examples that Heaven World had given out across the entire land, as they were things they had tried to do to kill Alternates. So far, though, the only way discovered to kill an Alternate was to stab it in the third eye, which appeared somewhere on the body and was usually a spot like the arm, neck, or leg.

What Alternates did with people was unknown, but all that was figured out was the disappearances of many, many real people, and the replacement and spreading of fake versions.

DJ Yellow was either an alternate… or pulling a sick joke and pretending to be one. It wasn’t far fetched to expect him to pull a downright awful joke like that at a Halloween party, so Blue shrugged it off like nothing, knowing that he was probably the only one at that party who paid attention to news from Heaven World. Considering that the DJ hadn’t started acting weird like that until they HAD reached the party, it seemed more logical than just immediately assuming the person before him was fake.

A few hours passed. Music played, fatty and sweet food was eaten, and musicians and their plus 1’s spoke to one another. Only a few minutes after their conversation had happened, the rap men entered the main hall from the back, dressed in matching costumes that looked like zombies. It depended on the person whether or not watching them question how the fuck their sisters had gotten in was entertaining or not, but the girls weren’t kicked out either way.

Everything seemed to be pulling together finely, until…

JJ and Yellow hadn’t seen each other at all that night, until at one point, the DJ was asked to get an alcoholic drink from the kitchen. The alcohol wasn’t out freely at the snack tables, just to make sure nobody accidentally drank liquor or beer over dyed punch, so people would usually ask their partner to get a drink for them from the back.

JJ was returning from the back hall just as Yellow was descending down it, and it seemed the rockstar couldn’t resist a small remark. “And what are you supposed to be?” He said as the two were about to cross paths.

DJ Yellow stopped in his place, a cocky smirk on his face. “The headless horseman, obviously.” He held up the jack-o-lantern, holding it in front of his head.

“You have a head, DJ.” The other musician glared, raising an eyebrow.

There was a sudden tension in the air as the two realized they were alone in that hallway, and the door to the main hall was completely shut. “You think so?” Yellow turned his head and raised an eyebrow. Before JJ could even say anything-

He thrust the jack-o-lantern backwards.

It slammed into his head and he fell backwards, the lit candle squishing against his face and setting his hair on fire, hot wax falling onto his skin. JJ was stunned silent as he watched DJ Yellow’s body stand up without his head, leaving the smoldering wax and flesh on the floor. “Isn’t this a funny costume, JJ?” All of the remnants of his original voice were replaced by the whispering, fake voice of an alternate person.

“Wh- wha- what the fuck-?!” The rockstar couldn’t scream, he could only let out hushed curses. What he saw didn’t feel real in the slightest. As the other man stood up, he could see that the place where his head and his neck had separated held no arteries or bones, but only one bloodshot yellow eye. Blood leaked down his neck as his head smoldered in flames, melting as though it in itself was made of wax.

DJ Yellow stood back up. He turned around and picked up the pile of wax, human flesh, and pumpkin flesh, shaping it back together with his hands. “The look on your face- I don’t think I’ve ever been more entertained!” He laughed, “You’d never believe how long I’ve been waiting to pull that trick. I love being in the body of someone who finds jokes funny!” With that, he put his head back on his neck, tying his cape carefully so that the blood of his neck was veiled.

He walked right up to the rockstar’s face, leaning close.

“Be lucky this isn’t Heaven World.”

so yeah there’s your “yellow becomes a fucking cryptid” writing piece lmao

[appples]

Oh, Cats (5/10)

pairing: Aizawa x Reader (OC)

genre/warning: 18+

words: 3,296

summary: An average girl with a cat quirk starting over in a new city, as typical as usual. Until it’s not. You drop into someone’s life unannounced and not necessarily wanted.

Hesitating as you went to open the door, you drowsily completed a mental check. Yes: you were wearing underwear, and you had a shirt on. There was a pounding on the door that had woken you up and was continuing to bang. Standing behind the door, you unlatched the lock and let Aizawa stumble in. This seemed so out of character, you were starting to wonder if he might be drunk but there was no smell of booze. Closing the door, you heard his bag drop. Turning around, you could feel Aizawa standing closer than you were expecting. He was breathing so shallowly in the early morning silence. His hand reached out and touched your face, tipping your chin up while his free hand began to run through your hair as you gently purred. Both your lips softly met, bringing you back to the first night you met. Kissing you, Aizawa brought you closer to him, resulting in his hips pushing into you and your breasts pressing against him. This felt too good to be happening,

"What-do you know what you're doing?" You tore yourself away; Something wasn't right. Something was happening to him.

"Yes," he answered with an aggressiveness you had never heard from him. Unsure of what to do, you continued to let him kiss you. The grip he had on your hair began to tighten, and you began to feel as if you were being led backward, towards the wall. Aizawa leaned into you with more force, bumping you up against the wall. His breathing was erratic between kisses. The warmth on your neck, tickling you. Without warning, the playfulness was gone. Aizawa spun you around and pressed you against the wall. Taking his left hand, he gathered both of yours and held them above your head. Traces of sleep entirely gone; you were trying to understand what was happening. The sound of a buckle being released, and a zipper being pulled down made things very obvious. Aizawa's free hand grabbed you by the tail and pulled you up, causing you to sharply meow presenting yourself to him. Not missing a beat, he continued on, pulling your panties down towards your knees before thrusting his cock into you. Before you could let out another sound, his hand quickly covered your mouth, muffling your yelp as he was entirely inside you. You two had been working together long enough to have gotten past the awkward stage, and you were okay with things staying the way they were, under the impression that the current arrangement was mutual. So why this? And why now? Skipping over any form of warm-up, Aizawa went right to pounding into you with everything he seemed to have, leaving you feeling like you are about to split in two. Your claws dug into the walls, tearing trails through the paint. Another forceful thrust and he began to push his body against yours forcing you to press against the wall. He spread your legs even further. His stubble dragged across your neck, following the trail of his warm breath. Taking your hands in his, he flips you over and up against the wall. Forcing you to face him as he drinks you in. Then he drops his hands, giving their attention to your breasts with a gentle massage and kissing your neck before he pinched your nipples without warning. You bit your lip in attempts to suppress your yelp. The head of his cock rubbed against your clit, making small circles. Your hips begged for more, thrusting forward. He smirked,

"You like that?" you nodded your head in response. He abruptly stopped, causing you to whimper. One of his hands came down to rub up between your thighs.

"You've already made such a big mess." You could feel your face burning again. Deliberately, Aizawa got down on his knees. Kissing your thighs, he reached up to pull on your nipple again. The kisses went higher and higher until Aizawa licked where he had been rubbing his cock. You were melting. His free hand rose, and two fingers breached your entrance. Whimpers turning into whines begging for more. As his hands were busy with their tasks, he looked up at you. Your brow furrowed, nose scrunched, eyes closed.

"Look at me," he instructed you with his fingers still inside. Doing as he said, you opened them. You couldn't read his face for any indication of what might come next. His fingers resumed their pace but now were curling around to reach your g-spot. This made keeping your eyes open almost impossible.

"Don't close them." He began to lick around your clit again, faster and creating suction with his lips. An orgasm began to build inside of you. Doing your best to stay quiet and watch Aizawa was becoming increasingly difficult. Words were not forming. The only thing you could think of to do was to run your hand through his hair. Grabbing a handful as you struggled to suppress a grunt. Aizawa saw the obvious orgasm that was building, written all over you. Instead of bringing you to a climax, he stood up. Your eyes now meeting his above you. He kissed you before picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Passion filled your kisses. Not wanting to break away, you pointed towards the bedroom to communicate your desires before wrapping your arms around him for extra support and intimacy. Aizawa took the hint and followed where you had indicated. Throwing you on the bed and stripping himself with lightning speed. The last time you had been in this position with him, you were so consumed by your quirk that you only remember bits and pieces. Watching his body move as he undressed was so captivating, you couldn't stop staring. His body was exceptionally sculpted and fine-tuned from years of pro hero work. Scars ran all over his body every which way, but they only added to the mystique and allure of who he was.

"Now," he growled, choosing the edge of the bed and pointing, "come here." His gruff voice always was comforting to you, but with the added depth and authority, your hair stood on end, and obeyed blindly. Sitting where he had marked, you wait for more demands, but none came. Shouta moved closer to you, scratching your ears and running his hand through your hair.

"First, you're going to get down on your knees." Without a second thought, you did as you were told.

"Then, you're going to taste me."

You purred and looked up before taking his cock in your hand and licking him gently from base to tip. The grip on your hair tightened as he let a moan escape. Verbal encouragements propelling you to do more, swirling your tongue around the head to tease before taking as much as you could of him into your waiting mouth. Despite being the one pleasuring Aizawa, your clit still throbbed and your pussy ached, making it unbearable to continue without touching yourself. Aizawa tried to swap your hand away but fell apart once you started to blow him in earnest. Pumping his cock with your hand occupying the space, your mouth couldn't cover, you bobbed up and down. Continuing that motion, you started to swirl your tongue around his cock again before adding in head movements. You were twisting your hand and your mouth as you changed speeds erratically. His satisfaction came as deep moans, clenching your hair even tighter. Spit was running down your chin, but you didn't care. Being able to make him moan the way he was, became more rewarding than anticipated. Teasing, you took more of him, pushing his cock down your throat, making you sputter and gag. Aizawa moved his hips, forcing his cock even more profoundly into you. Using the hold he had, he forcefully held you in place and began to fuck your face. You tried your best to keep turning and swirling, but his pace only quickened, leaving you unable to do very much other than take it. Which you very much wanted. Tears formed and streamed down your cheeks; you were having more difficulty breathing. Slightly panicking your tail puffed out, giving Aizawa the visual cue that you were coming close to a limit. Pulling out, a thick trail of spit still connected his cock to your lips. Eyes open wide, you looked up at him again, licking your lips,

"Does that feel good? "  you ask before Aizawa pushes you back onto the bed.

“God, I love fucking you," he said, towering over you, spreading your legs wide. From everything that had already happened, you were slick all down your legs, Aizawa seemed to take pleasure in what he's done to you. Grabbing your legs, he throws them over his shoulders and pushes his cock into you deeper than you ever thought it could go. You didn’t know if you were moaning or screaming. Both were fine. Hammering into you, Aizawa lifted you by your hips, making you level with him. Closing your eyes, you became lost in the sensory overload you were experiencing. Aizawa decided it was time to trade places with you; him against the bed and you onto of him, moonlight illuminating your curves and features. Sliding down his cock, you came, tightly wrapping yourself around him even more. You started rubbing your clit while you bounced up and down on Aizawa’s cock.

“F-Fuck!” you screamed. Helping out, Aizawa was now moving his hips in time to you. You leaned forward onto his chest to steady yourself.

“Don’t stop!”  scratch marks began to appear trailing down his chest. Speed and intensity increasing, Aizawa watched your breasts bounce as you were lost in the moment. Aizawa began grunting more,

“I’m so close.” Your hips swirled in a circular motion as you rode up and down. Leaning in, whispering to Aizawa.

“I want you to cum in me.” Gently nipping his ear. He flipped you onto your back, continuing to thrust.  You wrapped yourself around him: legs at his waist, pulling him closer and arms around his back.

“Shouta!” his pacing became erratic, ending in several longer thrusts before he finished deep inside of you. He kissed you between breaths before rolling over next to you.

           You took a quick shower and returned to your room, where you found Aizawa already fast asleep. The closer you got, the more you realized that while he was sleeping, he was shaking. No, he was crying silently. Devoid of sound, you crawled in next to Aizawa and tenderly positioned yourself, allowing him to lay on you while you played with his hair, kissing his forehead. Aizawa tended to put on a solid front, taking care of people in his life and having a no bullshit outlook on life. Right now, he seemed so soft and vulnerable. You never wanted to see him in pain like this. He deserves so much more.

After the 16-hour mark, you began to have some concerns that Aizawa was not waking up. He always looked like he needed to sleep for days, but this seemed like it was something to do with a larger issue, not so much with what happened the previous night. You had been staring at your phone on the coffee table in front of you before finally picking it up. Flipping through contacts, you begin to compose a message to Mic,

Hey! This will be weird, but I need to know if anything happened to Aizawa in the last few days or weeks. Read. Mic started typing at what seemed like a snail's pace.

Hey to you too! Nothing happened to my knowledge. Can I ask why?

Taking a deep breath and hoping you don't regret sending this message, you answer back.

Last night, Aizawa showed up at my place at like 3 in the morning. He didn't seem like himself… Mic didn't need to know all the details. And then he just crashed and has been asleep for over 16 hours.

How did he not seem like himself? Oh, for fucks sake.

He uhh. When he showed up, he said next to nothing and proceeded to fuck me before his bag even hit the ground.

That does seem a little ominous. Rolling your eyes, you noticed that Mic was still typing.

I think I might know something. While we were still in school, we had a third friend who was killed. Shouta blames himself for his death. Every year when the date rolls around, he goes quiet for a few days; Friday was the anniversary.

You could have strangled Mic, of course, that was relevant information about his behavior. Not exactly knowing how to continue on after that, you started wrapping up,

Well, fuck.

I don't really know how to deal with this, so I think I'm just gonna let him sleep.

Thanks for the help.

The last 24 hours were not what you were expecting, and you were still processing what happened and is happening. Obviously, Shouta was reaching out in his own mysterious way, maybe without realizing it. But what do I do about it all? What happens when he wakes up? Fuck, this is going to be weird. Why are things always so weird with him? Wanting to distract yourself, you got up from where you had been sitting and tried to busy yourself around the apartment. Catching your eye was the pile of clothes Aizawa had left by the door. You assumed he had been out on patrol before coming over and could likely do with a wash. Your ears twitched as you picked up his clothes and removed the belt. Inaudibly you opened your bedroom door and leaned in to see how Aizawa was doing. Not much had changed. Still fast asleep, he had rolled over and was now facing towards the door and, subsequently, you. His hair fell to the side and out of his face; he still looked tired even though he was sleeping. Even with that stained look, he was still beautiful. The door closed behind you as you went to put his clothes in the wash.

           By the time Aizawa woke up, you had spent most of the day cleaning, watching TV. Also setting aside anything Aizawa could need once he woke up, which he was extremely grateful for. Hearing him start the shower, you sighed with relief that he was finally awake. He sat in the bath for a long time trying to sort out the brain fog he was struggling with but gave up after little success. Remembering what happened the previous night wasn't the issue. It was more like a thick layer of smog over all his thoughts. Aizawa was shocked you laundered his clothing, a creeping sensation of guilt started to build. When he entered the living room where you were sitting on the couch, you couldn't help but look over at him. Unfortunately, he didn't look very rested despite the excess amount of sleep he just had, although the redness in his eyes had slightly subsided. Neither of you wanted to disturb the silence in hopes that there would go first. Aizawa walked over to where you were and sat next to you.

"Do you remember last night?" asking casually.

"Yeah, I do." His responses left you feeling like he didn't want to talk much.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of the time as well, but it's about eight at night if that is relevant at all."

"How many staff members are still here around this time?"

"Usually, a couple coming and going, but if you wait until nine or ten, no one will see you."

"Okay" Not wanting to push him, you turned your attention back to the TV. Whatever you were watching wasn't incredibly exciting, and you didn't have much desire to continue watching. But at this point, you felt it might be too awkward to just sit in silence. Soon sleep snuck up on you without warning, your eyelids drooping when Aizawa finally spoke, jolting you awake.

"I'm sorry," you almost couldn't hear him.

"No, it's okay." Putting your hand over his and purring, you continued, "I understand what last night was and what you needed. In a way, I was able to pay you back for helping me out" It was starting to feel like you were forcing small smiles to the surface.

"I also understand being a pro hero is demanding and requires sacrifice." Your smile began to fade, "And if I may for a moment think so highly of myself, I would be a targeted vulnerability. I'm not strong enough, and that's my problem". He wanted so badly to reach out and hold you, tell you that you were wrong, be there for you. But he sat there silently, not knowing what to do. Swimming in his thoughts, you stole his attention back,

"Hey, don't look so sad. After talking with Nezu, I rethought my resignation and agreed to retract it. We will still see each other." Aizawa's eyes widened,

"Resignation?" He choked out. Well, now, you felt awkward.

"I-I thought Nezu would have told you. After the off-campus incident, I thought a lot about what you said, and you were right. So, I wrote a resignation letter and brought it to Nezu, who refused to accept it" you laughed at how stubborn the principal could be. "Our compromise was that I needed to start on my own training with more intensity, and in a few months, see if I still feel like leaving UA."

"I never said any of that intending to push you to quit. I just…I was scared." Looking at him with disbelief, you couldn't help but be confused.

"You were scared? Of —"Your recent conversation with Mic protruded on your attention. "I'm sorry, I will try my hardest to prove I can handle things on my own. You don't need to be afraid for me." Now knowing Aizawa had feelings for you confirmed, even if it was a concern, made what you were going to say next much more difficult.

"Obviously, we still need to work together, but maybe outside of anything work-related, we should keep our distance" your words felt like fire ants dancing on your tongue as they came out.

"I agree" his response saw your ears drooping.

"Well, we still have some time to kill before you can leave without being seen. I'm not sure what you wanted to do until then."

"This is fine," he said, turning his attention to the TV. You pulled your knees to your chest, and your tail curled around you, trying to put your feelings aside. Being a good friend felt terrible.

An eternity passed before ten o'clock rolled around. You opened your door and looked to see if the coast was clear,

"No one is there. I guess I will see you later.'

"Yeah"

"Bye," you gave a pathetic wave. Aizawa was halfway out the door before he responded with a half-hearted goodbye. Behind him, you closed the door. Turning around and sliding to the floor against the door as you started to cry. Anger was the first thing to come up, anger with yourself that you let these feelings happen even though you knew the outcome. They just complicated things and made everything else a mess. You didn't want to feel like this; like when you touch a car so hot in the summer that it takes a minute to realize that cold to the touch feeling was really burning.

Shouta stood in front of the door and listened to your pain, hurting in his own way. He lifts his bag across his chest and on to his shoulder before walking away.

[youarejesting]

Quarantine.20

[Masterlist]  Pairing: BTS x reader Friends2Lovers But as slow as you can go until the anticipation kills us all… Genres: friendship, drama, romance SLOWEST OF BURNS BUT IT WILL BE BURNING AN ETERNAL FLAME!!! Rating: PG-13 and above Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 1.1k Announcement: This chapter made me very happy we are finding a little more about Y/N’s personality. So far we know she is Adaptable, Stubborn, Emotional, a real Chaotic Good. She makes her own way a free spirit and a good heart. She won’t sit around if there is something she can do. Giving Y/N depth and character and own personal struggles besides that with the love interest. 

The boys will be learning valuable lessons in the next chapter. So stay tuned.

[Part 1]  [Part 19] [Part 21] [Tag Yourself Here]

“You can’t just abandon the people when they need help!” The tired doctor hissed into the phone, his hair disheveled and the bags under his eyes extremely noticeable. You had just returned from delivering supplies. “Too many safety hazards, what about the safety of the people?”

“What’s going on?” You asked the young woman who was in charge of logging each supply run while watching the doctor pace the room. Pulling yourself to sit onto the health center's desk and Casually juggling three mandarins much to the young children’s amusement, there was a boy who had a broken leg, a teen in all black trying to look indifferent after an appendicitis and a young girl with a chemical burn. 

“The hospital has stopped sending out the paramedics when the sun goes down, the drivers have almost resulted in a few crashes and then with the number of gangs out there taking supplies and such. It’s too risky” the woman said, the doctor looked so angry you could almost see smoke coming from his ears. 

“What about if people are dying?”  She looked up at you surprised no one really got to hear you speak more than one sentence at a time, “They say they can't do anything about it” “If that’s the case I will go to them, and perform in-home care, until morning. Or if they are safe to move then I will do so to wherever is closest otherwise, I will wait with them until morning”

The Doctor turned to you hearing your words and started talking rapidly into the phone. After several minutes he put his hand to the receiver “Are you seriously willing to do this? you will be required to learn first aid and CPR” You nodded, having until the sun was down to learn all the basics. Lucky for you, you passed the advanced day course and were given instructions. 

The moment night fell you would be directed to any call outs, the first was a child who split their head open by a falling snow globe, they sent a photo of the severity. The doctor at the clinic explained it could easily be glued shut as it wasn’t too big and to deliver some paracetamol elixir. You took the motorized scooter which you had attached one of the wagons on the back and hurried down the streets. Something about this felt different, the numbness seemed to ease and you were able to feel the weight of your decision. 

Yes, leaving the BigHit building had initially been a reckless decision made to spite others, then it was taken from your hands and you were practically forced to go. But this was your decision, this wasn’t to impress anyone or to show off, this was doing what you wanted and what you thought was right by your morals. You couldn’t sit around while people were in need of help. With your bag in the front basket and gun over your shoulder, you moved quickly through the streets.

Arriving at the house you followed the instructions of the doctor. Sealing the wound and checked for any concussion or swelling from the trauma. Smiling at the boy you gave him a sticker of a dinosaur. You told the parents what to do and to call if they had any issues, they thanked you. 

Before you had left there was another emergency, across town an older man was having chest pain. You went straight over, helping him into the Hazard suit with a working breather, placed him in the wagon and rode back to the clinic. The doctor immediately conducted an ECG and determined he was having a heart attack and had been for a while. He was stabilized and you felt your body relax with the relief, he had been such a kind, old man. This was definitely a tough job, but you felt tiny flecks of warmth in your chest.  

Unable to identify the feeling but it wasn’t bad, you were sitting beside the man. He spoke of his wife who was in the hospital and how he wanted to see her. You comforted him and as he relaxed he asked you about your life. When and why you came to Korea, and about the man you were in love with. You winced. 

“What happened?” “Uh it’s complicated” Taking your leave going to the vending machine for a coffee and something to eat, you were still using Mister Lee’s card the IOU list was gradually getting bigger. As you walked past the room you hear the nurse telling the older gentleman about what had happened to you. Calling it a night you shuffled to the clinic’s staff room, it was almost morning and it had gotten quiet. But before you made it to the door, the radio went off again a woman had gone into labour. 

Turning around you headed to the doctor who helped you pack a bag with everything you would need; clamps, sterile instruments and even a pair of Air Pods. Telling you, he would talk to you the whole time and guide you through it. With the address in the GPS, you stepped out wasting no time to cross the town. The doctor was telling you everything you needed to know as you headed over. 

Arriving at the woman’s house, she unlocked the door and you told her to step back. Ducking inside quickly so as to not bring too much poisonous gas into the house, you shut the door behind you. Stripping off the suit and hanging it up you put on your protective gear. 

She was pacing, breathing heavily and rubbing her stomach. You spoke to her in Korean and she looked at you so scared her husband was stuck across town in his company face-timing her. 

You set up an area on the ground laying out a plastic tarp, you were wearing goggles and a medical mask, you washed your hands slipping on gloves. You had acquired all of these from the store. Asking the woman to let you check how far along you were, not wanting to reveal you didn’t know what you were doing. 

Feeling extremely unprepared, but knowing help wouldn’t come until the next morning you squared your shoulders ready to take on this challenge. You were the only help this woman had. She was stressed enough as it was, you would do your best to pretend you knew what you were doing. This was just like going on stage and playing a role while dancing, you would play this role until you felt that it was truly who you were.

“My name is Y/N, What is yours?”  “My name is Myunghee,” she said, “have you delivered babies before?” “Six” you smiled not wanting to tell you it was your pet cat who had given birth in the kitchen and you just sat around while she did all the work. 

Hiding your fear, the doctor was in your ear guiding you through the steps, you checked how far along she was and hummed she wasn’t quite ready to push yet, at least not to how the doctor explained. Telling her there was still some time. Not enough that you would make it to the hospital but enough time to try to relax.

[Part 1]  [Part 19] [Part 21] [Tag Yourself Here]

Tags:  @bubbletae7​ @lovemusicandotps​ @taetaebq​ @seveniefive​ @w0lfqu33n​ @anaiss97​ @moccahobi​ @maddymal​ @lilacdreams-00​ @lethargicalyssa​ @knjkitten​ @pieislife​ @bunnyboyenthusiast​

[kathyprior4200]

Kathy Prior Comforts Alastor

Another ordinary day at the Hazbin Hotel. Having died in the 2020’s due to covid, I appeared as a watered down human, not quite a demon unless influenced by Alastor’s dark magic. Originally I was going to be transformed into an angel reminiscent of my supposed spirit animal. But Heaven’s elitism rubbed me the wrong way, thus I refused to submit to God. I was banished down to Hell, living in a cardboard box. I was soon fleeing from the exterminators not too long afterwards. If they had gotten me, I’d either be killed or sent back to Heaven to be brainwashed as a white Exorcist. Then Alastor of all people decided to take me in and I arrived at the Hazbin Hotel. There I was good friends with Alastor, Charlie and Niffty, half convinced that they were the voice actors playing some kind of trick on me.

 Aside from my demon form that is activated by Alastor’s magic, my afterlife form wasn’t very impressive. I looked like I did when I was alive, except my skin was ghostly pale, my long hair was gray and my eyes had black sclera, purple irises and white pupils. Although I didn’t fit in with the other demons, I could see in the dark and my instincts were heightened.

 It’s not a lot of fun when Alastor possesses me or when he decides to swallow me whole. Apparently, there’s something powerful about me that allows him to heal, feel full and even get some rest. Often times, he sits me in front of a radio and has me listen to several of his favorite jazz songs. The little speakers start to glow and static buzzes in my head. His soothing voice washes over me and I find myself in a daze. My eyes glow red with moving black radio dials and my remaining thoughts are shoved to the back of my mind. Alastor soon has control of my body and mind. He calls the process “getting tuned in.”

 I then transform into an alligator/red doe hybrid demon named Cerva. In this form, I’m a vicious killer and cannibal who accompanies Alastor, Husk and Niffty on various missions. Using my sharp claws, teeth and some dark magic, I take down pedos, rapists, criminals or anyone that stands in the Radio Demon’s way. My scaly skin helps protect me from most attacks, though I can still be killed by angelic weapons like everyone else. When he releases control of me and I morph back, it feels like a great weight is lifted off my chest. I cannot remember what I did before.

 Like Husk and Niffty, I’m stuck under Alastor’s contract for a while. He persuaded me to work for him at the hotel and that “It’s a dangerous world outside.” Naturally I agreed.

 Today was fairly busy. Charlie had a meet and greet event to welcome the newcomers Crymini, Mimzy and Baxter. When I wasn’t greeting any guests, I helped Niffty clean the rooms, make the beds and sweep up the floors. Sometimes I would help Alastor and Niffty make tasty jambalaya (with spicy sauce) and other dishes to serve to all the clients. I wasn’t very good at poker but it was still fun to play and watch as Husk skillfully won almost every game. Often, the characters would mostly talk amongst themselves, me fading into the background, being an OC. I was fine with that…it was almost like watching the show I dearly loved on Earth…except now I was a part of it in a way.

 After I finished cleaning beer bottles at the Jackpot portion near the lobby, I heard Alastor and Husk talking not too far away by a pool table.

 The cat demon let out his usual grumpy sigh. “Man, what a ruckus. I just served dozens of drinks to these annoying tourists who didn’t even stay. What’s the meaning of that?”

 “Why Husker!” Alastor said with a laugh, “Ever since our three new demons arrived and signed up for Charlie’s program, more folks are becoming curious about it. Providing them with drinks and entertainment is surely the way to go!”

 “Without any breaks?” Husk scowled. “And why’d you make me stretch my wings and do a stupid dance onstage when I got wasted earlier?”

 “It was so funny, I had to!” he chuckled. “Even when you’re getting drunk, you can still do your new job well.”

 “I’m here to serve drinks and get my money and booze. That’s it. I’m not some fucking clown you can roll into every little scheme of yours.”

 “Hmm…maybe you are.”

 “I don’t think so. Remember I’m only here because you bribed me with booze. But even that will only go so far.”

 “Come now, my friend, why not liven up a little!” Alastor spoke in a loud voice, making Husk’s ears flinch back. “I provided you with some resources to make your life down here more…livable…or rather less dead.”

 Audience laughter came from his microphone.

 Husk rolled his eyes and muttered. “Your dad jokes make you a fucking joke.” Alastor snickered. Husk seethed, “Ugh great, now it’s rubbing off on me!”

 Alastor pulled Husk in close with his arm, much to the cat’s disgust. “Just have some fun and follow my orders and things will go smoothly. You are my good friend after all.”

 Husk’s white furry face turned red as he hissed and shoved Alastor away. “I’m not your fucking friend! You’re nothing but a red psycho freak I happen to unfortunately work under. If I had my way, I’d be a rich free man who could gamble and do whatever I want! Better yet, I’d be far away from all you morons.”

 Husk picked up a few cards and shuffled them in his hands. “I had a full house and was about to win the pot. And then you pulled me out of nowhere and placed me in this dump for your own amusement.” He pointed a claw into Alastor’s chest a few times, making him flinch a bit. “When ae you gonna get it past your egotistical head that I. Want. To. Be. Left. Alone?!”

 An uncomfortable silence followed. Niffty briefly looked over while she was busy dusting a bookshelf with a white feather duster.

 “Looks like our pussy cat’s in his usual bad mood,” Alastor mused in his radio voice. He tilted up the corners of Husk’s mouth into a smile, which quickly fell when he let go.  “You know I love to see that smile…”

 “Shut up!” Husk pounded his furry fists onto the pool table, making the colored balls rattle. “Just shut the fuck up! I’m sick of you touching me all the time and getting into my face. I’d say you’re lost in this ridiculous musical world of yours…you think you can do anything you want but you don’t seem to be aware of who’s right in front of you!”

 The large yellow smile remained on Alastor’s face, though his red eyes looked concerned and confused.  

 “You’re delusional, thinking Hell revolves around you like some sort of audience.” Husk’s eyes had faint red veins popping out. “You may be powerful, but guess what? You can’t have your way all the time. I learned that lesson the hard way. I may be in your partnership for a while…” He hiccupped, “…but here’s what I really think of you…”

 Husk’s breath smelled of booze as the cat spilled out his previously hidden angry thoughts.

 “You’re an insufferable…”

 Every word was a jab to Alastor’s chest…

 “Egotistical…”

 He felt the shoves of surrounding boys in a long ago life…

 “Filthy…”

The taunts of “dirty boy” and the n word…being forced into a tub of water, scrubbed all over roughly and feeling like he was drowning…

 “Immature…”

 Authority figures looking at him in disapproval as he auditioned for various radio stations…

 “Maniacal…”

 Alastor slashing down his hunting knife onto a helpless victim in a snowy wood…

 “Heartless…”

 Alastor dancing and flirting with pretty women but turning away when they tore desperately at his clothes…

 “Couillon…”

 Running away as police dogs bit and tore at his legs…

 “Retard!”

 Pounding on a door in a cold empty asylum room, cold stares from the towering wardens and nurses. Words like “loon”, “wacko,” being mouthed at him as the gray walls closed in…

 A sharp record scratch pierced the air.

 A black and red gloved hand clutched at Husk’s throat. A tight grip lifted the cat several inches off the ground. He struggled to pry off Alastor’s hand, but his hold was firm. Husk struggled and gasped as he frantically tried to gulp for air. The room darkened and soon filled with radio static and floating red Voodoo symbols. Alastor’s large orbs turned pitch black, with small red dials twitching menacingly. He slowly brought Husk close to his face until they were almost nose to nose.

 He spoke in a low demonic radio voice, his mouth not moving.

 “Remember who you’re dealing with. I gave you your privileges, and I can easily take them away.”

 Just when Husk was about to pass out, he casually tossed him aside. He landed with an “oof” onto the floor. The static and symbols vanished as Alastor’s eyes returned to their normal shade of red. Husk groaned and stood up on shaky legs. He took several deep breaths and glared.

 “Guess cats don’t always land on their feet,” Alastor mused as more microphone laughter followed.

 “Get ready for another big day tomorrow!” Alastor called cheerfully to Husk as if nothing had happened. Husk flipped him a middle claw in response as he slouched away. Alastor walked on.

 “Oh Husk,” Niffty called out. “Don’t forget that you need another bath tomorrow. I‘ll be happy to clean you all up!”

 “Suck it, shrimpy bitch!” he yelled.

 “Language, kitty!”

 Niffty hopped down from the bookshelf and scurried toward Alastor. He looked down at her.

 “Well hello little darling!” he greeted to the cyclops maid.

 “Hello Alastor,” she beamed. “I was just finishing up my rounds for the day when I heard you and Husk talking. It sounded like arguing…”

 “Oh it was nothing, my dear! Just Husk in his grumpy cat mood as usual. I was trying to cheer him up.”

 “Okay,” she said. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow, so much stuff to do! Is there anything else I can do to help out, sir?”

 Alastor waved his hand, “Nothing at all. You did a splendid job today.”

 “Are you sure?” she asked, her large golden eye darting back and forth. “You know, you look pretty dirty, no offence. Perhaps you could use a nice clean…” She looked over at his staff, then stared at the area around his legs a little bit too long. “Your staff I can so easily reach…”

 She extended her hand with a hungry expression.

 “Ha! No.”

 Alastor instinctively stepped back, his frozen smile still on his face. He walked briskly past her without another word.

 “See you in the morning!” she trilled with a happy wave before scurrying off.

 The room was quiet and empty.

 What in the world just happened?

 A nagging feeling spread through me as I walked in the same direction as Alastor. It was a strange urge to go and talk with him. His tall frame strolled down the hall and up a flight of stairs. I silently followed, careful to stay a distance away and out of sight. As I almost entered my room, Room 42, the feeling compelled me to wander towards Alastor’s room instead.

 His room was across from Charlie’s and Vaggie’s, not too far away from Angel’s. The black door was etched with red Voodoo symbols and had a golden deer knocker. Strangely enough, he left it slightly open. I inched closer and peered through the opening into a dim room.

 “Come in, dear.”

 The door opened wider on its own, revealing Alastor sitting in a dark red throne-like chair on a small balcony. He was facing the sunset sky, but must have sensed my presence. He had taken off his red pinstriped suit and had it neatly folded on a chair, near where his staff was. He appeared to be wearing a dark red old fashioned nightgown with slippers made of deer fur.

 In the room, there was a king-size bed with red satin sheets on it, an elegant bedside table and dresser to match. A small chandelier made of bones hung from the ceiling in the center, illuminating blood red carpets decorated with small golden eyes and antlers in rows. There was a large vanity mirror framed by round theater lights and an array of softly lit candles here and there. And of course, there were old fashioned radios all over the room in various sizes. A four-eyed deer head stared back at me from a plaque on the fancy red wallpaper. More disturbing were the various skin-stitched Voodoo dolls and skulls hanging from the ceiling.

 A cool soothing evening breeze met my face as I stepped outside into the inferno air. I sank down into another chair next to Alastor. The sky was painted a brilliant red and orange, the magenta pentagram glowing and moving above like a revolving clock.

 “I didn’t mean to disturb you sir…” I began. A small radio sat beside Alastor, emitting radio noises and various sound clips. Strangely they sounded almost the same every time I heard them. In fact, his habit of using his microphone for sound effects…it was almost like a comfort mechanism for him.

 “Well usually at a time like this I do prefer to be alone, but since you were nearby…”

 “I just…wanted to make sure you were alright.”

 “I’m perfectly splendid, sweetheart, no need to worry.”

 For a millisecond, his eyes told a different story. Not only did I have better senses, I could read expressions and sense intentions better as well.

 “I believe there is more than that. I heard you guys arguing. Frankly, Husk was being a bit of a jerk.”

 Alastor waved his hand. “That’s what he does.”

 “But it was different this time, wasn’t it?”

 Alastor just shrugged.

 “Charlie and I were talking today and we both can agree: you can’t hide your feelings forever.”

 “Whatever are you talking about?”

 “I can sense that you are lonely, deep down. You want to find a place to belong but your sadistic nature makes others afraid of you. You’re afraid to trust other people.”

 He turned to me with a deadly glare but I remained where I was. “If you’re planning on killing me, there’s no point as I’m already dead. Hear me out for a second.”

 He paused and leaned back to listen.

 “I’m not saying you should reveal your sad secrets to everyone. I’m just saying you should embrace the fact that we all have vulnerabilities and bad days. It’s perfectly okay to cry once in a while. Perhaps your search for entertainment is more than just that. It’s a search for your mother, your friends, a search for your true place on the stage of life.”

 “I’m never fully dressed without a smile,” he seethed with his plastic smile. “End of story. Since when has an audience member gave the star of the show directions?” he inquired, eyebrow raised. “You don’t know anything about me.”

 “Well perhaps you need a better script,” I added, arms folded. I stared at his long yellowed nails, his gloves off for a rare moment. “And serious bodily care.”

 A brief silence. Had I been anyone else, I’d be a pile of ash.

 I continued. “Husk did have a point, though. He wanted to be left alone but you still decided to invade his space. You told Charlie that you want to see people fail, despite her not wanting to hear it. Plus, I’d expect an evil killer like you to take joy in the fact that people run away from you in fear. But you don’t like it. Because you seek something more.”

 “I don’t need to hear your delusional words.”

 “I’m more observant than you think. You created me to be submissive, but also tough and smart. It’s my duty to serve you and the hotel right now. And you bet your bottom dollar that me and your friends will try and do what’s best for everyone.”

 More silence as we watched the sunset in deep thought. After several minutes, I turned to him and couldn’t believe what I saw. I spotted a stray tear fall from Alastor’s eye…and his smile slowly faded.

 I covered my mouth with my hands as I let out a soft surprised gasp.

 His look alone told me that I’d be demon meat if I told anyone else. Fortunately, I never break my promise.

 I thought of all his behaviors I noticed and it suddenly clicked. There was the feeling again, a sense of a peculiar deep connection between me and him. And I figured out what it was.

 “Alastor…do you know what autism is?”

 He gave me a perplexed look. “Stop making things up.”

 “It’s a real thing…but I imagine no one talked about it in your time. Autism is one of many developmental disorders that impairs socialization. Your behaviors appear to be very similar.”

 Alastor growled, teeth bared in warning. “I can assure you that I’m perfectly talkative enough. You call me dumb and I can easily…”

 “I know because I have it too.”

 Alastor’s eye twitched. “What?”

 “Do any of these traits sound familiar to you? Being a nerdy child lost in your own world? Being preoccupied and very skilled in your many talents as you grew up? Never quite fitting in with your peers no matter how hard you try?”

 Nothing was heard but the sounds of radio glitches. Orange light glinted off his monocle under his right eye.

 “Those with autism are often very knowledgeable, setting their minds to something and never letting go of it. But they have a hard time seeing things from another person’s perspective. It’s not that they are antisocial and heartless. Rather, they feel things deeply…but they don’t know how to communicate properly with others around them. Some of them aren’t interested in romance, either.”

 Alastor rolled his eyes. “I have shows to plan for my demonic audience. I don’t have time for feelings and…”

 I continued on. “You’re content with living in your own world of radios, music and murder…because for you, it was the only way to survive and make yourself known in your previous life. Communicating through the radio, playing music, dancing and singing on stage… that is when you feel truly alive. Because your listeners hang onto your every word, not caring who you are on the outside.”

 His pupils grew slightly. “You’re making assumptions. You’re forgetting about murder…”

 “Bringing joy to others outweighs bringing suffering...at least that’s how it should be. There’s nothing wrong with doing what you love…except when it causes harm to others.”

 “Demons kill and eat other all the time. Surely you must know that sometimes death and torture are necessary.”

 “You do have a good point. But…I’m talking about your previous life, and why you were sent down here…”

 “I killed those racist bastards for good reasons. When you discover there’s an afterlife full of magic, you go out of you way to make deals for power. It’s what I’ve been doing for years. It’s impossible to be sinless, for sinners lost their chance to ascend the moment they died on Earth!”

 “But it doesn’t have to be that way. Say we take the necessary steps to prove Heaven wrong…”

 “Heheheh, there you go, sounding delusional like Charlie.”

 “Just be glad I’m not as distrustful or hateful of men as Vaggie.”

 “Angel Dust is probably worse…”

 I chuckled out loud at that. “Personal space isn’t in his vocabulary.”

 I took a breath. “Look Alastor, I’m not saying it will be all be rainbows like Charlie claims. I’m just saying it’s not impossible to redeem sinners. Back to the main topic: we both have autism. Your special interests are radios, entertainment, murder and dark magic.”

 Alastor made a face and shook his head. “That term you mentioned didn’t exist when I was alive,” he said. “Anyone who was considered strange or deviant were ignored at best. At worst, they were arrested, killed or thrown into asylums. If it weren’t for my beloved mother…I would’ve wasted away a long time ago. And despite enjoying the company of beautiful ladies, I’ve never had much interest in intimacy. My broadcasting career was my life.”

 This time I listened quietly. He continued. “I’m only telling you all this because you technically don’t exist in the Hazbin timeline. And because…I can trust you enough, like Charlie and Rosie and Mimzy…”

 He sighed again. “Like a skilled actor, I learned not just how to present myself on the air. Thanks to my mama, I learned how to socialize and mimic others around me. It was a way for me to be confident in the face of daily disdain. Smiling became my way of life…my survival skill. If I were to cry and appear weak, who knows what might’ve happened to me. Eventually I became famous for my broadcasting and my music all throughout Louisiana, but it still wasn’t quite enough. I then found another coping mechanism…”

 The aura around him grew red…

 “One that made me feel like I found my place in the world. How good it felt when I could hear their screams…see the life leave their eyes. How from the moment their bodies turned cold, I knew they could never take advantage of me and my family again…”

 His black antlers arched slightly past his face. He lowered his head as static faded in and out. Here was the infamous and ferocious Radio Demon pouring out his secrets to me. I almost didn’t know what to say.

 He covered his eyes with his hands, long fingers in claw shapes almost tearing at his pale gray skin. His voice broke in a record scratch…and this time he spoke without the radio effect, barely audible: “I miss her so much.” His fluffy ear tufts briefly drooped as he conjured the loving smiling brown face of his French Creole mother in his head.

 We sat in silence for a while. “I hope you can see her again,” I said. “But…you need to have faith. Not in Charlie’s program per se…but in yourself. I know change is hard…I’m not saying go play with dogs and use new technology. I mean, don’t be afraid to explore your feelings, figure out what you truly want in your second life.”  

 Alastor’s remaining tears sizzled off his face and his tufts lifted back up. “That’s easy. I want to entertain others and have everyone do what I want…endlessly feast on flesh and never be bored…”

 “We both know it doesn’t work like that. What you want is nothing compared with what you need. You need love. Friends. The joys of music and a purpose. Instead of killing individuals…you need to kill off your own barriers.”

 “Easier said than done. What if I don’t want to change?”

 “You’ll either spiral downward into madness, or you’ll slowly change for the better while still retaining your good qualities. If you want to see your mother in Heaven, you’re gonna have to put in some effort. I may sound like Charlie when I say this but…I know you can do it.”

 Alastor gradually relaxed, his antlers retreating back to their usual stumps. He soon stood up, anxious to have some space. “Thank you for this lovely chat. Now I’m off to read my scripts and go to bed for a little.”

 I stood up and followed. “How long do you usually sleep?”

 “Thirty minutes,” he shrugged. “I rest by the wall with my eyes open.”

 I gasped out loud and bared my teeth. “Not on my watch, mister. Get into bed, now!”

 “Deer don’t need sleep.”

 I put my hands on my hips. “Everyone needs sleep, especially you! I promise nothing is going to happen. Your shadow will guard your room and suck the soul out of any intruder. Plus you have several friends and kingpins who are loyal to you. You want to truly be the star, Alastor? Start by taking care of yourself. You are the most important person in your life.”

 Alastor smirked. “Like I don’t already know that.���

 “Good. Now rest.”

 I turned to leave before I freeze. Gathering my courage, I turned to Alastor who sat on the bed. “Alastor…may I give you a hug?”

 He stared at me, taken aback. No one had ever asked him for a hug before. He almost flinched when I slowly walked toward him.

 After a moment, his face softened. “Just this once.” He leaned into my arms and chest. I got over my brief surprise by returning the embrace, my eyes closed, tears falling. I opened them and saw to my utter delight, his fluffy red and black deer tail wagging a bit! We soon parted and he wiped the tears from my face with his fingertips.

 “Now darling, don’t forget to smile! You’re never fully dressed without one.”

 I laughed through my tears. His charm worked every time. “Hey, don’t forget to ask people if they want to be touched before you do so. That’s lesson one.”

 “You’re my servant, not my teacher,” he spoke up.

 I spread out my arms. “This is Hell, Alastor, we can be anything. The world is a stage after all!”

 Alastor chuckled, but I sensed that he wasn’t content with taking my advice any time soon. But I had tried nonetheless.

 We bid our goodnights, me feeling slightly better. Just before I closed Alastor’s door and headed for my room, his whisper of a voice floated by my ears:

 “Thank you Ms. Prior. Stay tuned.”  

[bang-to-the-tan]

Vessel Euphoria Chapter 5

► SciFi!AU

Thriller

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mind Control, Upsetting Themes Throughout, Alien Parasitism

↳ Summary: 6 months ago, the crew of the space vessel “Euphoria”—destined for a scientific study on a distant planet—dropped out of all communication. You and your fellow crewmates are inbound to reestablish communication with home base, but things are not as they seem and the fate of the mission is placed in grave danger.

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“Everything all right?”

You crane your head to look to Officer Jung. He looks tired, but the smile he gives you is still somehow reassuring. It almost works. You nod once, turning back to the observation window, moving your crossed arms more comfortably on your chest as if cold.

“Just making sure he’s out before I leave him.” you reply, gesturing vaguely to the figure curled into the barebones mattress on the far end of the quarantine room. He’s a black speck against eggshell white, curled so tightly in a fetal position you might be forgiven for missing him. Mistaking him for a smudge on the one-way glass. You can’t see his eyes from here, his black hair splayed out across his face, but he’s breathing steadily for once, mouth slightly open. He looks better after having been pushed through the shower, encouraged to eat what little he could keep down. But being clean only shows how tired and drawn he looks—a youthful face stained with worry and sorrow, even in his sleep.

“You think he’s faking?”

“I know he isn’t.” You snort, grim. “I dosed him. Sedative in what little water we could get down him. Just…” you frown. “Just making sure.”

You divert the conversation, looking back to your officer. “How’s Yoongi?”

Unease curls in your chest at his expression as he shakes his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “He’s in the sick bay. Came down with a fever not long after you and Jimin left.”

“A fever?”

“Just a reaction to the air, I think. Put him through decon twice, there isn’t anything on him that he wasn’t born with.”

“…our little hothouse orchid,” you murmur after a pause. Yoongi always did seem susceptible to whatever planetary conditions you came across. It’s not all that shocking—but a fever means he has to be minded until it clears, by protocol. He’ll be stir-crazy and grumpy as hell by the end of the week unless it lifts soon.

“Park said you found a camera?”

“Yeah. I’m downloading the files now.” You’d hooked it up to your computer the moment you could sneak it away. There were a good handful of photos and videos on it, enough to take a little while to fully download.

“You didn’t see Namjoon at all while you were up there?”

You glance back at him, but he’s watching Jungkook now, an expression of dark concern on his face. You wish, not for the first time, you could tune into what he was thinking.

“No.”

“Probably a good thing.”

“There was no evidence that anyone else had been up there as long as he had. I’m worried for what that means for the rest of the crew.”

“Try not to speculate, specialist.” He says, but his tone gives him away.

“I’ll try, sir.”

“Park’s scanning for fuel replacements at the secondary. One of us is going to have to stay behind to keep an eye on Jeon and Min, but beyond that, we’re going to keep going as planned. I’m thinking he and I head out to the primary first thing tomorrow. You alright with holding down the fort for an hour or two?”

“I don’t mind babysitting.”

“Good.”

You feel a hand on your shoulder, light, familiar. Soothing, as he rubs his thumb once and then removes it.

“We’ll figure this out.”

“I know.”

He pauses.

“Anything you find on that camera…you know you have to be objective about it.”

“…yeah.”

“Call me.”

You turn to him again, nodding. “I will.”

He mirrors the gesture before he takes a breath, throwing another glance at the observation room. He walks away, his steps echoing down the hall. You wait. Another few beats, watching Jungkook sleep.

Try not to speculate. Impossible.

Maybe Yoongi was right. Maybe there was a fight. Jungkook certainly was capable of it, even exhausted and underfed, you couldn’t miss the lithe tones of his body, the strength inherent in physically tackling Park Jimin. But it doesn’t seem to fit who he is now—never mind the soft-spoken boy from the logs. Even attacking Jimin, he wasn’t angry. He was frightened. Like he’d seen a ghost.

You leave him one last, pitying look, catching the swift twitch that curls his limbs and furrows his brow, mumbling in his sleep, muted by the observation walls. You return to your quarters to check up on the camera.

 The camera’s data is completely downloaded to your personal computer by now, so you make sure to disconnect it. You’re careful with the wires, thinking of the desperation that Jeon reached for the small device with, thinking of the comfort it would bring him to have it back. You set it gingerly on the side, settling into your chair and taking a deep, steadying breath. There could be anything on these files. You have to remember to think objectively. The best for both crews. If there’s so much as an argument on these tapes, you have to take it into consideration. Nothing need be used ‘against’ anyone until you find the rest of the crew and get their statements. Maybe Jeon really was up there for his own good. On the other hand, there could be nothing on the camera. It could be just what it was designed for—auxillary information collecting. Nothing more. Something about the way Jungkook looked at it tells you that won’t be the case. It’s hard not to think about. You’re trying.

You navigate to the first file and click play.

 The screen stutters, flashing the insignia and acquisition number of the camera.

LOG DATE: 18.2.2213

Space Vessel Euphoria Model 2C-4S

Handheld Auxiliary Camera 001

REGISTERED TO: Biology Specialist Kim Taehyung

 Dated 2 months after they’d landed. You remember the official logs. It took them just under 3 months just to set up the camp so that it was self-sustained. The terrain gave Navigations Specialist Seokjin one hell of a hard time at the start, and maintenance had to be completed with all of the crew members present—to account for debris and atmosphere contamination. It wasn’t an easy job, but they got through it with style, you’d always thought. Why would they need the camera at this time?

The official text blinks out.

The camera’s screen fizzles on.

 You’re greeted with a table. The video quality is lesser than the official devices used for status reports, but it’s good enough that you can see flecks of colored paper decorating the table. It looks like…incident reports? Torn up incident reports, colored in with highlighters so that they’re bright yellow and pink and blue.

Is that…is that confetti?

The deep giggle that comes from directly behind the camera is unmistakable, belonging to Kim Taehyung, breaking through a low murmur in the background that you immediately recognize as Officer Kim Namjoon.

“Yeah, back on earth,” Jungkook replies, his clear voice replying to whatever it was Namjoon had said with a fortitude that makes your heart ache. He sounds like the epitome of youth—confused, excited and more than a little skeptical. “Never anything professional, I guess, but…Why?”

“Ah, nothing professional, he says. I told you, Namjoon, he won’t appreciate it.” Jin’s voice comes next as the camera shifts, focusing and refocusing on the makeshift confetti as Taehyung passes it to his other hand. “We should send it back.” Jin sounds teasing, a playfully nagging tone rising in his voice that you’ve never heard before in his usually serious, stately logs.

“Send what back?” Jungkook asks, immediately perking up.

“It’s his first mission away from home, Jin, come on, don’t tease him.” Namjoon returns with a chuckle. “What do you think Tae?”

The camera lifts, panning up, and you’re treated to a sight you couldn’t possibly have expected to see. It’s not just the table covered in brightly colored slips of paper. It decorates the tiled floor, spreads across all the windows of the mess hall, lays comically in the hair of the men standing in the front of the room in a semi-circle. Namjoon with his jumpsuit tied familiarly around his waist, Seokjin with his unzipped to his collarbone, and Jungkook standing in the shorts and t-shirt issued as pajamas. Everyone has what appears to be paper hats on their heads, brightly colored the same way as the confetti. They’re all covered in the stuff, grinning ear to ear, as the two elders turn to the youngest, who stares at the camera with a peculiar look. His head cocks, brows furrowing over wide, clear eyes. Suddenly, realization sinks in and his face falls into something that speaks volumes of deep, cloying affection.

 “It took a little while to get here by space mail,” Taehyung says congenially from behind the camera. It starts moving, shifting towards Jungkook who reaches out with delicate hands, cradling the lens as though it were made of pure, antique glass that might shatter at any moment. “But it’s better than rations, right, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook’s fingers smoothe over the camera, turning it this way and that, doe-eyes inspecting it with an intentness generally reserved for lovers, his lip trembling.

“Y-you…” he mumbles, and you see his eyes are shining. “Is this really for—“

“Happy birthday, Jungkook,” Seokjin pipes in fondly. You catch a glimpse of his soft smile when he leans over.

“Sorry it’s late.”

The camera jostles, the light turning dark. Before the frame cuts out, you recognize several pairs of arms, outstretched towards Jungkook in a familiar group hug.

 END RECORDING 18.2.2213

 That wasn’t a fight.

That was Jeon Jungkook. That was the boy you’ve heard about, the one you remember from the logs, the one whose proud, shy photograph decorates the hall of fame back home. You think of the starved, wild-eyed man you had to sedate to get to sleep. The one you had to herd into the ship like a feral cat.

And the rest of the crew…the kind of people who would put in an official requisition for a biology-grade camera just for a birthday present are not the same kind of people to quarantine that same someone in a unsustained base nearly 200 kilometers away.

Something isn’t right. Something is very, very wrong.

You click on the next one.

 Everything is the same but for the date. 23.4.2213. Two months from the communications drop. You shift in anticipation, trying to clear your throat, refocus your mind.

Whatever you find here could determine the fate of both vessels’ missions. You have to keep a clear head.

 The picture sparks into frame.

It’s a bathroom, the camera pointed at the toilet. From the layout, it looks like the bathroom usually located right off the main room of your standard study base. You can hear Taehyung’s breathless, deep giggling, punctuated by heavy thuds as someone pounding on a door behind him.

“Just give it back, you dick!” Jungkook’s voice, muffled.

“No way, I need it!” Taehyung laughs, cut off by a particularly rough shove forward. The camera view sways as he moves to brace the door better, his laughter increasing in pitch and volume as the hammering gets more desperate. “It’s the only camera on this planet powerful enough to capture my magnum dong!”

There’s a pause.

“You know the status cameras have zoom-in functions, too, right?” Jungkook comments through the paneling.

Another pause. Taehyung stops his chuckling before it suddenly returns in full force.

“I’m going to flush this thing down the toilet.” He says, entirely full of intent that you’d almost take seriously if not for the way he giggles through it.

“Ah, don’t do that!! Taehyung!”

There’s another thud, and this time you can hear the cracking of plastic, the surprised yelp leaving Taehyung’s throat as the door splinters forward. The camera sways again as he rushes towards the toilet, halted and yanked backwards, the camera spinning, as another hand comes into view, reaching for the buttons on the side.

“Don’t drop it, you’ll—“ Jungkook says hurriedly, shadows fingers passing over the lens as Taehyung’s laughter rises in pitch, becoming a playful snarl.

It cuts out.

 Dick pics. Dick pics?

You blink.

Two months out from having lost all communication with home base, and they’re play-fighting over using an official camera for snapping dick pics?

You don’t even know what to make of that.

 The next one is dated a month after that. Just before the Epiphany launched. Your mission to reestablish contact.  

 “Jin. What do you have to say for the fans?” Jungkook asks, the camera spinning towards a figure hunched over a command board like some kind of dizzying talk show. Jin looks up from his position at the navigations computer, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously. The bangs of his hair have been gathered into a ponytail that makes him look like a lunatic, jutting straight up out of his head and purposely fanned at the end like a paintbrush. Even so, when he lowers his brows and stares at the camera, you can see how he got his reputation at the academy.

“I miss you,” he says, solemn, charming. “Wait for me.”

Jungkook breaks into a laugh, hand darting into frame to play with the ponytail while Jin stays, unmoving, unblinking, staring into the camera. He shifts, pressing his hand to his lips, eyes closing, before he unleashes a flying kiss directly into the lens, head thrown back with a deep air of drama.

“I love you,” he adds, while Jungkook threatens to implode in the background, the video shaking as he laughs.

“How long are you going to keep the ponytail?” he asks absently, flicking it between his fingers.

“It looks good, doesn’t it? My hair’s getting long.” Seokjin turns back to the controls, dropping the flirty persona with an immediacy prized by full-time actors. “With Taehyung sick, I can’t get him to cut it. It’s impossible to see with it all in my face.”

“I’ll cut it for you.”

“No.” His response is immediate, deadpan, almost warning.

“Or you could ask Namjoon.”

“I might as well shave it all off at that point.”

“Please.”

“I’ll just cut it myself.”

Jungkook laughs again, bright, reaching out to mess with the ponytail some more.

The video ends.

 You lean back in your chair, slowly trying to process what you’ve seen.

On the one hand, there’s no evidence of a fight. Not that these few videos means there was never any tension between the crew, but…you aren’t seeing the professional, upright men who left on a mission to the stars. You’re watching a family. It reminds you of yours.

And at least as recently as your crew being sent out to repair communications, they were seemingly fine. No mention of any issues—technical or interpersonal. You didn’t even know that Kim Taehyung had fallen ill during the mission.

That means they didn’t stop checking in. It means the messages just never reached central command. Something happened to stop the messages from transmitting. Several months’ worth of messages. They’re meant to be broadcasted in real time. If there was a malfunction, they would have used auxillary to record logs in the meantime, presumably while Jungkook repaired the issue. Not doing so means…

Realization dawns slowly on you, coils ice in your belly, and you turn the computer monitor off in order to grab your comm, punching in Hoseok’s private line.

“Officer Jung, speaking.” He answers immediately. “What’s up?”

“Sir. I was going over the logs from the auxillary camera.” He’s quiet for a moment. “…what did you find?”

“I have reason to believe that the communications dropping wasn’t an accident.”

“What?” He sounds taken aback, replying immediately.

“Hoseok, communications didn’t just break. There’s a gap—I think someone was stopping the messages from going through to central.”

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[flamebearrel]

What Puts the “Fun” in “Fun Dead”? Chapter Four

Fandom: Eddsworld

Synopsis: What started out with a simple shopping trip on a snow day ends up with the latest zombie apocalypse. Unfortunately, Mark doesn’t realize until he’s right in the middle of it. Oh, well. Looks like no one else has noticed, either. He’ll just have to give them a few reminders.

Word Count: 1212

Original Post Date: Late 2017

Characters: Mark, an unnamed woman who is intended to be Coco (Minor Edd and Tom)

Ships: None

Trigger Warnings: Zombies, Blood, Biting, Head Injury (Will be added to a bit in later chapters)

Other Notes: Based off the events of the episodes “The Snogre” and “Fun Dead”; intended to take place within canon; the neighbors and the main three are friendlier with each other now; each chapter has a picture to go along with it

Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

~~~

“Easy” was not the word Mark would use to describe his trip. If it weren’t for the fact that his neighbors were simply cruising along at such a casual speed, and for the fact that they were blasting a snazzy tune out of their opened windows, he surely would have been lost. Still, it was hard to match pace with a car. When he found a poor man being pinned by a zombie horde, he went straight for the man’s unlocked truck. Mark insisted to himself that it was already too late for the guy as he drove off.

He motored along carefully, staying far enough away from the car he followed so as not to cause suspicion. The last thing Mark wanted to do was freak Edd and his friends out. They didn't seem to notice him at all, which was good, he supposed.

Finally he saw their car slow, turning into a vast parking lot. He stopped his own car nearby. Then, taking a step out, Mark took a look at the towering sign above his head. It read “ASDFLand.”

Mark recognized the name after a moment as the title of an amusement park. Why were they here, of all places? He stared at it in wonder long enough to find that when he turned back around, the neighbors he was following had already went inside.

The blond sighed and went after them. After grabbing a few handfuls of tickets from a broken ticket machine and shuffling past the zombie in the booth nearby, the young man finally stepped through the front gates and took a look at the amusement park before him.

The first thing he noticed was that it was huge.

Rollercoasters and sky drops and carousels burst into life as people rushed onto their docks. Caricature booths and obviously rigged games littered the area as well. There were bursts of eccentric color in the air as swirls of carnival confections were placed in the hands of little ones all around.

Mark almost squealed in delight before he remembered what he had come to do. He scanned the crowd. It was clearly smaller than what was usual for the park, but still, plenty of people were there. Between the vast amount of area to search and the crowds of unaware civilians, it would be difficult to find his neighbors. Not to mention that he could pick out several zombies out there- it wouldn't be long before his friends were toast. He had to hurry.

A young woman with raven-tinted hair and a golden cat hairband was the first person he asked. “Excuse me, miss,” Mark began.

Turning to him, she lowered her candy floss and cringed slightly at the sight of his bloodied turtleneck. “Uh… are you okay? I don't think that much blood out of a single person is normal.”

“Oh don't worry, it’s not mine-” He stopped when she cowered back even more. That made him sound suspicious, didn't it? Immediately he explained, “Er- I didn't kill anyone, honest. It's just… I hate to ruin your fun but another zombie apocalypse has just begun.”

“A-are you sure? That would explain the… bodily fluids you're completely soaked in, but- there hasn't been one in years! How do you expect me to believe-”

Suddenly an ear-piercing scream hit the air as a person nearby was bitten. The crowds abruptly shuffled backwards as he writhed on the floor. Mark flinched, knowing that the man was already on his way to the undead world and feeling extremely helpless about it.

The dark-haired woman nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Maybe you're right. We should get out of here.”

“You need to do that,” Mark replied, “but I can't, yet. Have you seen three men wearing different colored hoodies? Two brunettes and a ginger?”

“No, sorry… good luck finding them though…!” The woman waved and hurried off, to where he hoped would be a safe place for her.

After asking several other people the same thing, Mark decided his method was too grueling to carry on with. He needed to find a new plan… a fast plan… but how could he see them when the world at his eye level was crowded and bustling and impossible to see through?

Wait… eye level. Obviously he had to get to higher ground in order to find them! And he knew how to do just that. The drop tower. Immediately he made off for it, glancing at his map from time to time for reference.

Soon he slowed down to take a look at the towering thrill ride in front of him. To him it felt a million meters high. Mark shook his head, fighting off the nerve-wracking feeling inside of him, and got in line.

Within a few minutes he was offered a seat. The blond took the offer and went to sit down. Mark buckled his grocery bags in next to him, knowing no one would want to sit next to a man soaked in ambiguous blood. Besides, the ride operator didn't seem to care very much. “Just move along,” the man droned before starting the ride.

Up up up, the gondola went, before screeching to a halt at the top of the world. The butt-chin man took a deep breath, narrowed his eyes, and looked over the crowd.

Immediately a flash of green and brown went past the corner of his eye. Yes, Mark could see Edd, having the time of his life on the rollercoasters. He flicked his eyes toward a different corner and quickly noticed Tom, walking towards the arcade. And… yep, there was the woman he had talked to earlier, who was heading for her car. Matt was nowhere in sight, leaving Mark to hope that his friend had just gone to a different area of the park.

Mark considered his options. Going to Edd first wouldn't work, the rollercoaster lines were always way too long. There was no point in finding the woman again, and looking for Matt without any clue where he was would be too difficult. That left Tom. Yes… Tom would probably be the one who could keep his head and help him out the most. Now with a destination seared into his mind, Mark closed his eyes and waited for the ride to rush him back to the world he knew.

Nothing happened. He waited some more. Still nothing. Frowning, the blond glanced down to find what was causing all the holdup.

A zombie was practically on top of the operator when he looked. Not in the mood for drama, Mark simply grabbed another can from his bags and tossed it at them. It hit the zombie in the back of the head and sent the undead creature careening into the controls.

Suddenly the ride rushed downwards without warning. Admittedly, Mark screamed a little, but as soon it stopped he recovered. He lifted up the safety bar, grabbed his bags, and left, but before he could walk through the arcade’s doors a grunt sounded behind him. He turned.

Zombies were everywhere. He could've sworn the amount of them was smaller just a half hour ago…

If they were multiplying this fast then he was running out of time.

Mark pivoted again and ran into the arcade.

[lalunaunita]

The Purrfect Crime: Chapter 5

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7    Music Fanmix by @pennywaltzy

Rating: Teen

Summary: Bruce and Selina go on a lunch date. Selina receives disturbing news. Batman and the Commissioner set a trap for Catwoman.

The Purrfect Crime: Chapter 5

Bruce got to the office thirty minutes early, energized by Batman’s morning escapade at the pet shop. He couldn’t get Catwoman’s earnest rage from the night before out of his head. He should have put together the pieces sooner, but to be honest, the plight of stray cats around Gotham City was very low on his radar. The humans of Gotham suffered as much, if not more, than the animals—though he agreed deep down that the need to care for the city’s animals wasn’t diminished by Gotham’s other problems.

Debra looked up from her desk and smiled when she caught Bruce’s eye. Uh oh, thought Bruce. I know that smile.

“I made you an appointment,” Debra sing-songed.

“I’m all booked up for today—er, errands and that sort of thing. Alfred knows,” Bruce answered, trying to glide past his secretary’s desk.

The sanctuary of his office was only ten feet away. He could make it in three seconds.

“It’s a lunch date. Alfred said lunch was clear today. Selina Kyle.”

Bruce stopped in his tracks. Debra’s dimple was out in force and couldn’t have been more charming. She held a pen at the ready over her desk calendar. Her voice oozed a false nonchalance.

“Shall I cancel it? For your errands?”

The pen descended quickly . Bruce involuntarily reached out a hand to stop it. Debra was pitiless!

“No! Ah, I mean, no, thank you, Debra. Lunch with Selina sounds nice. I’m surprised she called, honestly.”

Bruce snatched his hand back and stuffed it into the pocket of his well-tailored suit. He felt uncharacteristically nervous. Between Debra and Alfred, he sometimes wondered who exactly was in charge.

“Don’t be. I think the Gotham Cat and Habitat Conservation Society is following up on several of the larger donations; sort of a one-on-one thank-you for your contribution. Or at least that’s what Ms. Kyle said.” Debra shrugged and set down her pen, turning to her computer.

Summarily dismissed, Bruce walked the last few feet to his office; work and a particularly hairy land development issue was waiting for him, after all. He turned at the doorway and looked back, his mouth half open and a half-finished thought on his lips. Debra cocked a suppressive eyebrow at him. He shut his mouth, shook his head, and closed the door behind him.

By the time lunch rolled around, Bruce couldn’t have been more happy about the break. He’d researched both hard and soft copies of Gotham’s property and zoning laws for several hours and was ready to tear his hair out. He knew his legal team had already pored over the pages in depth. But Bruce Wayne was smart too, when he chose to show it, and he certainly was stubborn. A morning spent with dusty old legal volumes wasn’t out of character. He leaned back in his luxurious office chair and scrubbed his hands over his eyes with a sigh. There were absolutely no loopholes. He’d have to pay the piper if he wanted to start residential and commercial development on that land.

Debra buzzed in on his intercom. “Don’t forget your lunch date, Mr. Wayne. Alfred will pick you up in five minutes.”

As if he could! Bruce grinned to himself and rose, smoothing the rumples out of his button-down shirt. He snagged his suit jacket on the way out of the office, gave Debra a conciliatory wink, and got on his way. Unabashed, Debra winked back.

“There he goes—like a bat out of hell when it comes to Selina,” she sighed happily to herself.

Selina’s glossy short locks were easy to pick out among the lunch crowd at The Dark Bite, a trendy downtown restaurant. She was seated outside under the shade of gently swaying branches. Trust Selina to know a spot with natural greenery to brighten the experience, Bruce thought.

She looked up and smiled as he approached.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked.

Selina pulled a mock frown. “You’d better not. I’m expecting a high-powered businessman to join me for lunch.”

“I’ll just move over when he arrives,” Bruce assured her and seated himself.

Selina smiled and looked the other way as he removed his suit jacket. An impeccably dressed waiter poured a glass of water, then another of white wine.

“I hope you don’t mind; I chose something ‘summery’ to match the weather,” Selina said, indicating his wineglass with the wave of a hand.

“Sounds perfect,” Bruce agreed.

“So how are you? How’s Alfred? Dick?” Selina asked, once ordering was out of the way.

Bruce sipped his water and leaned back into his rattan chair.

“We’re all in good health. Dick’s a little bored by summer vacation, but he’ll survive. He’s a bit too old for camp now. He needs to find a job.”

Selina let loose a silvery peal of laughter. “You definitely sound like a dad. Are you going to find him something at Wayne Enterprises?”

Bruce shook his head. “Maybe in a few years, but he’s too young and too charming to actually do any work at ‘dad’s’ business for now. They’d let him get away with murder—and he would take full advantage.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Selina chuckled.

“Guilty as charged,” Bruce agreed with a grin.

They paused, comfortable in the lull. A breeze stirred the napkins under their water glasses and sent the leaves overhead into a dizzying swirl. Dappled shadows danced delicately across Selina’s beautiful face. Bruce let his mind wander into territory he scrupulously avoided. Selina’s company was always a delight and left him strangely wanting when he was alone once more. He couldn’t help but wonder how a relationship with her would be. To ask for more—to give more. To see her smile each day, and hear her voice murmur close to his ear. At times like this, he was keenly aware of the shadow of the bat over his shoulder. Its burden felt heavy, its protection thin.

Bruce shook himself and tuned into what Selina was saying.

“...and we’ve put down earnest money to secure the property, and things are just going perfect. The new Gotham Cat Sanctuary should start moving ahead full speed in about a month. Honestly, that’s why we’ve been making the rounds and saying thank you to our donors. It’s such a perfect piece of land, and your contribution came at just the right time. Bruce, I can’t wait to make this place a reality. It’ll have room for all kinds of cats, big or small. State of the art veterinary facilities, specifically designed for feline health. Enough room that we’ll be able to take in new animals indefinitely—which is so important with all the kill shelters here in town! And there are some big cats with strange histories; we find more of them every day. Do you know, down in Texas, there’s a lion in a sanctuary zoo that was owned by a drug dealer? Can you imagine? Those are the kind of animals I want to help.”

Selina’s eyes shone with passion. Bruce stared, mesmerized. Selina was famously unflappable—he should know. He’d been trying to get a rise out of her for years. Her new project had clearly taken over, in the best way.

Her phone rang at the edge of the table. She checked the screen, thin eyebrows raised.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Bruce. Do you mind if I take this?” Selina half-rose from her chair.

Bruce inclined his head. Selina pushed away from the table and stepped over to the waist-high wrought iron fence that enclosed the restaurant’s porch. Their food arrived moments after she left, a phenomenon that never seemed to fail in Bruce’s experience. He unrolled his silverware, settled his napkin on his lap, and awaited Selina’s return.

His first clue that something was up was a shift in Selina’s posture as she returned. She still smiled, but it appeared glued in place. Bruce set down his fork, concerned.

“What’s up, Selina?” he asked, trying to peer under her lowered lashes.

She shook her head, chin dipping toward her chest. Bruce leaned forward and reached over with one hand. Her fists were balled up tight, white knuckle tight. He could feel tension thrumming under her thin skin.

“Selina, please tell me,” he murmured.

Her chin trembled a bit as she took a shaky breath. One tear dropped onto the tablecloth.

“The property’s been purchased,” she whispered.

“Oh, no…” Bruce groaned.

Selina nodded, frowning. “Some developer made a better offer. More likely he bribed the right city official. There were no other offers as of this morning! They were going to sign papers with us this afternoon. I can’t believe this.”

Bruce rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, willing her fingers to unclench beneath his own. Selina brought up the edge of her napkin and dabbed at her eyes. She gave a gusty sigh.

“I’m sorry, Bruce. I’ve ruined our lunch.” She cast regretful red eyes over the table.

Bruce shook his head forcefully. “Don’t be. Selina, I know we’re not close, but… you can come to me with anything. I’ll always listen.”

Selina gave a tremulous smile. “I know that Bruce, and thank you. And you’re wrong. We are close. We’re just busy.”

“That’s true enough,” Bruce agreed. His heart wavered between a plunge of concern for his friend and a leap at the smile he’d brought back to her face.

They turned to other topics over the meal, but Selina’s bubbly energy never quite rallied. Bruce felt—and compartmentalized—irrational anger at the investors who’d cheated her out of her dream. Not a single call came through on his phone. He knew he had Debra to thank for that.

Inevitably, the time came for Selina to return to her other duties. Bruce didn’t press her for another glass of wine or dessert. She’d stayed pleasant through the meal, but it was clear she needed time to process her disappointment.

He escorted her to the valet and waited as her car was brought up.

“So, have you heard about the recent string of cat thefts in Gotham?” Bruce asked.

He’d stayed well away from mentioning it to anyone, but Gotham PD had broken the story in a news conference just that morning.

Selina stiffened and cocked her head to look at him. “I saw it on the news, yes.”

“It’s such a disparate collection of animals—big cats, a show cat, kittens from a pet store. I wonder what the commonality is,” Bruce mused.

“I trust Gotham PD to handle it,” Selina shrugged. “Or maybe Batman will get involved.”

“Maybe,” agreed Bruce.

Her car ready and running at the curb, Selina turned to Bruce and took his hands. She stood up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you, Bruce. For everything. It’s really nice to see you.”

He gave her fingers an extra squeeze and let go. “You too, Selina.”

He watched her drive away, brake lights flashing as she merged with traffic. Alfred pulled up a few seconds later and came around to let Bruce into his vintage black Rolls Royce. Bruce smiled to himself when he noticed the well-trained valets side-eyeing the vehicle. Lost in thought, he strapped in and let Alfred return him to Wayne Industries.

Batman met up with Commissioner Gordon late in the evening at the GCPD Headquarters. Everyone except the beat cops and the front desk on duty had gone home for the day. Things were quiet as Batman slipped into a utility closet window he was familiar with. He didn’t know whether Jim found it unsettling or reassuring that Batman could get into into the GCPD building undetected, but it was always wise to have as much knowledge of a space as possible. From inside, the closet had a simple twist lock. Batman let himself out, careful to check the deserted hallway. Jim’s office was three doors away.

He noted first the noises coming from a cat carrier on Commissioner Gordon’s desk. Someone was protesting their incarceration.

“Ruffy, I presume?” asked Batman from the doorway.

“Oh! Batman! Do you always have to sneak up like that?” Commissioner Gordon grabbed at his heart as he looked up with wide eyes.

“Sorry, Jim. Force of habit.” Batman came up to the desk and peered into Ruffy’s carrier. “You’re a handsome fellow. Ready to serve your city, Ruffy?”

The tiny white cat meowed a question in return.

Jim rolled his eyes as he removed Ruffy from the cage. “Needy little thing. I can’t deny I love him, though. He’s a good cat.”

He held his pet up high as Batman pulled a thin collar outfitted with a location transmitter from his bat belt. He placed it around Ruffy’s neck and buckled it.

“Now, you’re sure the collar is secure?” Commissioner Gordon asked.

“You won’t lose Ruffy—that’s a promise. I’ll take good care of him,” answered Batman.

Commissioner Gordon gave Ruffy’s ears one last scratch, then deposited him into Batman’s waiting gloves. Ruffy revved up his purr. The Commissioner fixed the little cat with a droll expression.

“Well! Would you look at that! How quickly I’m replaced,” commented the Commissioner.

“Makes my job all the easier,” Batman chuckled.

He didn’t mention the catnip hidden in one pocket of his belt. Batman hitched Ruffy into an underarm carry and shook hands with Commissioner Gordon. He opened a window and ducked out under the panes of glass. The night air was cool and pleasant. Little Ruffy’s whiskers twitched as he sniffed about curiously.

“If my suspicions are right, I’ll have him back to you in less than a day, Jim. Thanks for volunteering Ruffy.”

Commissioner Gordon gave a final nod. He stepped back as Batman fired his grappling hook and swung away.

A few blocks away, Batman dropped down into an unnamed alley and remotely opened the Batmobile. Ruffy leapt right in and settled himself to one side of Batman’s centered seat. Batman shook his head.

“I’d almost think you understand what we’re up to. Or maybe it’s just the catnip,” he told the cat.

Batman and Ruffy drove to the edge of town and stopped at a deserted block. The area was somewhat known for being Catwoman’s haunt, although of course no one knew her actual location. Glimpses and sightings, amounting to little more than urban legend, were Batman’s main body of evidence. He was reduced to hoping it was true—and hoping she was not watching from the shadows. Batman cast a keen eye all around as the translucent carapace of the Batmobile slid back. Not a single shadow stirred.

“Alright, Ruffy. This is it. Do the Commissioner proud,” said Batman.

He exited the vehicle and picked Ruffy up. He deposited the small cat in an unassuming alley with a surprisingly decent amount of trash. The area was known for non-violent squatters. As a result, Batman hardly ever visited it. Thieves and murderers were more his concern. He pressed a hidden button on the side of Ruffy’s collar, then let the cat go.

Ruffy immediately took off down the alley to explore. Batman felt a twinge of concern. Ruffy was a pampered housecat, not a tough, feral stray. If he got in a fight, he could literally be eaten alive. Batman had already noted the absence of other strays—just like the alley near the pet shop. Hopefully Ruffy wouldn’t encounter another cat at all.

Batman leapt back into the Batmobile and sped away. He had a hiding spot or two even in this part of town. He parked not far from Ruffy’s alley and turned off the vehicle. Ruffy’s locator pinged on the Batmobile’s display and the readout of his vital signs was normal. Batman settled in for the night. He was officially on a stakeout.

[yuichoi707]

Welcome To Devildom, Yui!

While slouching at her desk, cupping the mug that soaked her hands with heat. She was listening to ASMR Boyfriend who had released a brand new ASMR of a tsundere demonic butler that she was particularly fond of. The weight of the blanket shifted while she peered at her phone laying upon her desk. The screen had originally been casting a beautiful scenery of a tower defense game she stumbled upon, now a curtain of black threw itself across which immediately spread annoyance throughout her core.

Another advertisement popped up despite one having been present only a moment ago, though this one caught her eye. Normally, it would’ve been tuned out but the flashing colors tossed her a line and roped her right into it. The flashing colors, the beautiful artstyle and the music was amazing. The title flashed across the screen, “Obey Me! One Master To Rule Them All!” 

Something about it made her heart flutter and her cheeks feeling a different kind of flame. One she hadn’t experienced in quite some time, just the experience alone triggered an empty void in her heart that ached. The small girl turned to face the bedside table, it held a very thick volume that could’ve easily made up a trilogy. For Yui, it was hard to believe that only four years had gone by since that fateful day.

Whether it was a dream or hallucination, she missed it dearly. She vividly remembered walking to work and on the way, she passed by a cellphone on the ground. Her immediate reaction was to walk to the nearest police station to turn it in however, the world turned black and soon she woke up in an apartment she didn't recognize. She was still holding the phone, that wildly vibrated with several messages and missed calls.

Once she opened up the contacts app and the group chat, it all came flooding back to her. For the past month this game had filled up the time for her, doing nothing but following routes and unlocking more as she fell deeply for these characters. She never thought she would have woken up into the otome itself though that didn’t mean she didn’t love and appreciate the time she spent with each one of them.

Letting out a hefty sigh after all those wonderful thoughts of Jumin putting a necklace on her, Jaehee hugging her, Zen holding her hand, Yoosung’s cheerfulness, Saeyoung spooning her while saying she was his only hope in the world.

A soft splat stirred Yui from her daze, looking down as a warmth dribbled down her cheeks. She didn’t know when she started crying, but she reached over to her box of tissues and started wiping it up immediately. She had absolutely enjoyed her time with them regardless of it being some sort of dream or delusion she created. However, it was time for her to move on and start again despite the pain she felt in her chest.

Settling into the game as youtube loaded up the next selection of Boyfriend ASMR, she was greeted by a sweet looking brunette with a very pure smile. He looked so cute and innocent, she felt her heart flutter at seeing him. Dressed out all in a nicely done red uniform, looked like an academy. Diavolo introduced her to the next character, which oddly reminded her of Jumin and would most likely follow the prude and only insistent on his work. Immediately she wondered if he would take a liking to cats.

Clearly Lucifer did not approve of her and she just sighed, she was going to have to work to get him to like her. Hopefully the entire cast didn’t follow this similar train of thought, would there at least be one demon on the team that would approve of humans? The whole thing was just an introduction to the world known as Devilcom and Diavolo’s academy. Eventually she got a missed call from Mammon. 

I felt my face turn bright and warm as I locked eyes with the tan character on screen that had gorgeous white hair. Immediately clutching her t-shirt where her heart would be as the ache for a similar in appearance idol racked her mind again. She softly sighed as the character complained about having to be in charge of her, then chuckled at Lucifer shouting at the tan man to be there in ten seconds or else. Assuming Lucifer is the one in charge considering how fearful Mammon was and even considered it as a threat when she first attempted to explain Lucifer asked him to call.

After a few more minutes of typical visual novel dialogue shenanigans, she was finally getting a tutorial on how to use the phone-like screen and it’s features. Then she smiled wide at being introduced to the story-mode that could only be progressed through dance-offs. Very charming and cutesy, seeing the chibi-like characters dance across her screen. It was so charming in-fact, that she played until finally it was around 2am. 

She didn’t mean to stay up so long but she was so interested by these characters, to the sad point that she had spent at least eighty dollars on the game so far. She absolutely fell in-love with the band of seven brothers. Leviathan reminded her so much of Saeyoung, Lucifer reminded her of Jumin, Satan reminded her of what made her fond of Jaehee, Mammon made her miss Yoosung despite looking like Zen, Asmodeous had the personality of Zen...However she knew of the seventh brother yet she couldn’t place him anywhere in her heart. She only briefly met him in-game and took him for a liar. 

She knew who perfectly would meet some qualifications for Belphegor, but her heart ached too much to ever think so badly of them. After all, it wasn’t his fault for being the way he was. Maybe it would be the same for Belphegor? Who knows, for now she wants to be like him and sleep. Her eyes felt heavy with exhaustion so she leaped onto her bed and wrapped the blanket around her tightly. A pinch in her ribcage reminding her of when a certain redhead called her a “snuggle burrito.”  

As she sank deep into sleep, all she could think of in her last few moments was of those gorgeous golden eyes.

“Hellooo? Is she okay? Is this normal for humans?” Blinding lights burned her retinas as she squinted harshly at whatever was in her face. Jumbled voices filled her already ringing ears as she slowly focused on who was around her. Field of vision now unblurred, her heart instantly leaped and froze in  air at what she took in around her. The innocent face with soft golden eyes meeting hers, his gentle grasp around her wrist and waist was with such care, it brought color to her cheeks.

“Haha, this isn’t exactly how I planned on meeting our first human exchange student but...Uh...Oh yeah! Welcome to the Devildom Yui!~”

[psychosistr]

The Only Thing I Want to Do

 Jonawagon Week- Day 3: AU/Stone Mask

Summary: Winter has ended and the town is starting to wake up again. Jonathan, however, probably won’t be able to focus until a certain blonde creature returns home..

Notes: So, this is a Moomins AU. I didn’t go full-animalization with this, just ears and tails. For those who have never seen or heard of The Moomins, it’s a series of books and comics that have been adapted into several cartoons over the years about a family of creatures and their adventures. Jonathan and his family in this one are based off of the titular characters, the Moomins, in that they are very friendly and hibernate during the winter. Speedwagon and Elizabeth are based off of the character Snufkin, a human-like creature with a semi-human cat-like father who loves to travel and doesn’t usually hibernate. More notes about how I came up with this AU at the end.

All was quiet in the Joestar residence. In the master bedroom, a lovely woman with blonde hair and silky pointed golden-furred ears lie sleeping by herself in an extremely large bed that was wide enough for at least three people. In the smaller but still sizable bedroom down the hall, a five year old boy with dark hair and matching ears was snoring loudly while sprawled out beneath his many blankets. The room across from his, which was normally reserved for someone not related by blood but by bond to the other two, was currently empty, as was the guest room beside the small boy’s.

Downstairs, however, was the one person wide awake. Sitting at the dining room table with his chin propped in his hand as he watched the final pieces of winter melt away and make way for spring was the lord of the estate: Jonathan Joestar. He was a tall, muscular gentleman with dark hair and a pair of soft furry ears atop his head that matched his hair- a long, skinny tail that fluffed up at the tip swishing idly behind him.

While he was normally one to greet others with a smile on his face, the way his ears drooped on his head and his tail continued to flick about clearly showed his distress. Jonathan had been having a particularly difficult time hibernating this winter. He had woken up at least three times that he could remember clearly. Each time he’d been roused from his slumber he did the same things- made sure his wife, Erina and his son, George, were still asleep and properly bundled up to keep out the cold, double checked the locks on the doors and windows, added more wood to the fire places to ensure the house remained warm enough…and visited the empty room down the hall just long enough to see if the scent of its usual resident still lingered in it (it did the first time, the second time was fainter, but the third time was almost unnoticeable).

The empty room and its usual occupant were a great factor in Jonathan’s distressed state. That room was set aside for the other love of his life, the mumrik Robert E.O. Speedwagon. The mumrik was kind, clever, adventurous, wise, and loving to all he cared about. He was as much of a parent to George as Jonathan and Erina were and he had been with Jonathan almost as long as Erina herself had. He loved him so dearly and his heart ached whenever Speedwagon had to leave..

Jonathan was not a fool, he knew that Speedwagon had to leave once winter set in. The mumrik did not hibernate for long periods through the bitterly cold season like Jonathan and the rest of the moomins in the area did- well, to Jonathan’s knowledge, mumriks COULD hibernate as a defense from the cold if they needed to, but it was more of a short term thing that only lasted a few weeks rather than months like he did- and his kind were not equipped to survive the cold as easily other creatures, thus it was safest if he left the country during its coldest season.

In addition to his own safety, though, there was another reason Speedwagon travelled in the winter- his kind did not often root themselves in one location, they were nomadic and enjoyed freedom and traveling the world as they pleased. Speedwagon was a bit of an oddball to the rest of his species in that he had chosen to stay in one place for most of the year, but he paid them no mind and simply stated that this place was exciting enough to keep him entertained for months on end.

Jonathan knew that wasn’t completely true. He could see it whenever Speedwagon gazed out at the sky or when he would sit on the roof when it rained. The look in his eyes told Jonathan how much the other man yearned for adventure and missed his days as a wanderer. He stayed simply because he loved Jonathan, George, and Erina very dearly and knew they missed him whenever he left. Winter was the one time of the year that Speedwagon allowed himself to roam as he saw fit since he could not stay there during the season and Jonathan and his family would be asleep anyway.

As much as Jonathan worried for his beloved’s safety whenever he left, and no matter how much he missed him before he fell into hibernation and after he awoke before the last vestiges of winter had yet to release the land, he would never deny Speedwagon his freedom to travel and explore and sate his natural instincts when he clearly desired it so strongly.

So, every year since he’d known the man had progressed much the same: Jonathan would walk with him to the edge of town on the last day of autumn and bid him farewell with a loving kiss. The blonde would promise him that he would be back when spring thawed out the town and the flowers began to bloom again, the birds carrying his tune back into town as he approached. Then Jonathan would race out to meet him in the same spot where they’d said goodbye and wrap his arms around him to bring him into a “welcome home” kiss before walking back to their house together.

One would think after at least six years of doing the same thing over and over again would lessen the anxiety and worry that Jonathan felt, but it did not. Every year he would wake up just before the spring thaw and sit alone, waiting with baited breath for his beloved to return and for his family to be whole once more.

His ears perked up on his head, pointing straight up at the ceiling as he heard soft footsteps descending the stairs before walking towards him. He didn’t even need to turn around to know who that was.

“Couldn’t sleep, Jojo?” The kind, understanding voice of his wife asked him from the kitchen doorway.

Jonathan turned to look at her and smiled softly. “Afraid not, dear.” He said as he got up to greet her with a warm hug and sweet kiss on the lips.

When they parted, Erina glanced at the window that Jonathan himself had been preoccupied staring out of not even a minute ago. “About how much longer do you think we have?”

“Another day, at the very least.” Jonathan said while looking back to the window. “There is still some snow left and the flowers are only just now starting to wake up.”

“Hm, a shame.” She said with a slight frown. “Shall we wake little George up as well?”

Jonathan contemplated the proposal for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not quite time yet. Besides, he’s still a growing boy and needs as much rest as he can get.”

A teasing smile crossed Erina’s lovely face. “Are you sure? I fear too much rest and he may end up even more of giant than you.” She chided while tapping him on the top of his head, standing up on her toes to reach him properly.

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Perhaps he shall grow tall enough to make people believe HE is the older one between us.”

They both shared a laugh at that and Jonathan felt his aching heart mend ever so slightly. He still missed Speedwagon, but getting to spend the day alone with his wife was something he would certainly not complain about.

By the next day the snow had finished melting, leaving the grass glistening and wet while the flowers had begun to bloom now that they were free of their icy blanket.

Jonathan and Erina were in the kitchen, working together to prepare a light breakfast of tea and muffins with the few ingredients left in the pantry (they would need to go into town as soon as the market opened today). Jonathan finished preparing the tea for himself, Erina, and George and carried it over to the table on a serving tray. He glanced over at the window once his hands were free and decided to open it up.

“Hm..” He gave a pleased hum as the sweet smell of spring flowers filled the room and blended with that of the fresh tea around him. He closed his eyes, listening for the sounds of any birds outside, but, to his dismay, he did not hear any yet. “Not quite yet…”

What he did hear, however, was the excited patter of tiny feet running down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Mommy! Daddy! It’s spring time!” The excited little boy called while running first into the kitchen and then into the dining room where Jonathan was still standing by the table.

Jonathan looked down at his young son and gave a fond chuckle at the sight of him, hair still mussed from sleep and dressed in his soft, warm pajamas. “Happy spring time, George.” He greeted and scooped his son up into a hug so he could look out the window as well.

“Woooow!” George marveled at the scenery through the window. “It’s always so pretty when the snow melts!” His tail was practically wagging behind him with how excited he was. It suddenly stopped and his ears perked up as he tilted his head back to look his father in the eyes. “Is papa back yet?”

Jonathan gave his son a sad smile and shook his head. “Not just yet, I’m afraid.”

“Aww..” George pouted and looked back out the window. “But..he’ll be back soon, right, daddy?”

“He will indeed, George.” Jonathan looked out the window as well. “We shall simply have to keep our ears open for the first song of the birds.”

He tried not to show it, but he was just as eager and desperate to see Speedwagon return home as George was.

After their light breakfast had been served, they all talked about the dreams they’d had while hibernating and what they would be doing once the town was fully awake and bustling again.

“The first thing I want to do is go with daddy to see papa and Lisa when they come back!” George proudly declared while biting his muffin in half.

Erina reached over with a napkin and wiped the crumbs from the boy’s messy face. “Now, now, George, you know that your father will bring Speedwagon back home soon enough, you can wait to see him. Besides, Elizabeth will have to go home to her fathers before she comes over here.”

George pouted, his cheeks puffing out a bit. “But I want to see them right away!” He looked at Jonathan with big, pleading eyes. “Please, daddy, can’t I go with you?”

Jonathan shook his head and gave George a sympathetic smile. “I’m afraid not, George. After all, your mother will need help bringing home the groceries if I leave to fetch Speedwagon before she returns, won’t she?”

George frowned, looking down with drooped ears. “I guess so..” That was something George had certainly inherited from Jonathan- a gentleman’s heart that could never say no to helping a lady in need. “But you will bring papa straight home, won’t you, daddy?” He asked when he finally looked back up at Jonathan, those pleading eyes back again.

“Yes, George.” Jonathan answered with a loving smile and he gently patted the boy’s head. “I will bring him straight home and we will all have a fantastic dinner tonight.”

“Yay!” George cheered, his ears perked up again. “I can hardly wait. Papa said he was going to bring me a souvenir when he got back!”

Jonathan chuckled in amusement at his son’s eagerness. “Doesn’t he always do that?”

“Uh huh.” George said with a grin. “That’s because I always ask him to. Papa never breaks a promise, so if I make him promise to bring me something then I know he’ll always come back.”

Jonathan stared for a moment, shocked by his young son’s clever mind and mastery of emotional manipulation. “That is positively diabolical, George.” His shocked expression turned into a proud grin and he ruffled his son’s hair affectionately. “Keep up the good work!”

George grinned more, his tail wagging back and forth again. “I will, daddy!”

After breakfast was eaten and the dishes were washed, the family was preparing to go into town for some much needed shopping when a familiar sound caught everyone’s attention.

Jonathan quickly opened the front door, as it was the nearest exit to the outside world, and stood in the still damp grass as he looked to the sky. Sure enough, there were birds flying overhead once again. As he closed his eyes to hear the tune of their chirps and tweets, he recognized a familiar cadence to their song.

“He’s here..” He whispered when he opened his eyes again. An excited smile was spreading over his face and his tail was flicking about anxiously. He turned back to Erina, about to ask if-

“Go on, then.” She said with an understanding, if slightly amused, smile. “We both know you will be useless to me until he’s back home, anyway.”

“Right, sorry.” He smiled apologetically before looking down at George. “You will take care of things while I’m gone, right, George?”

“You can count on me!” George said while puffing his chest out in a show of pride.

“I always do.” Jonathan said and gave the young Joestar another pat on the head before taking off in a light jog down the trail into town. “We will return in time for supper!” He called back with a wave over his shoulder.

Within less than a minute the light jog had turned into a full-blown sprint through town.

Jonathan weaved through crowds with practiced ease, leapt over smaller obstacles, and darted across any open spaces he could spot- anything to cut down on the time it took him to get all the way to the other side of the city in time to meet the one he longed for so desperately.

Despite his best efforts, though, it always took him half an hour to get from one side of town to the outskirts of the opposite side. Jonathan spotted the small wooden bridge situated over a stream just outside of town and slowed his pace until he was standing by it, panting from both the running he’d just done as well as the growing anticipation.

Thankfully, he wasn’t kept waiting more than five or ten more minutes after his arrival. He heard a familiar voice that started far off at first, but soon grew closer with each note it sang softly.

“And I meant

Every word I said.

When I said that I loved you I meant that I loved you forever.

And I'm gonna keep on lovin' you,

'Cause it's the only thing I want to do.

I don't want to sleep, I just want to keep on lovin' you.

Baby, I'm gonna keep on loving you,

'Cause it's the only thing I wanna do.

I don't want to sleep, I just want to keep on lovin' you..”

Then, at last, he saw him.

The blond mumrik was dressed as sharply as ever in his usual suit, the only thing throwing off his appearance being the rather large traveling pack currently hoisted around his shoulders. His ears, as with many creatures in these parts, were blond like the rest of his hair but were wider and more triangular than Jonathan’s, the appendages currently folded back to make room for his favorite bowler hat atop his head. His tail, which Jonathan could spot swaying behind him in time to the tune he’d just been singing, was different from Jonathan’s own in that it was far more slender and wispy, one could almost mistake it for a golden thread if not for the way it moved about and the tuft of layered fur concentrated on the tip of it. His hands, Jonathan knew all too well despite currently being in the traveler’s pockets, were also different in that they had sharp but short black claws on the fingertips and paw-like pads along the palms (and Jonathan knew that his feet matched his hands, but with little tufts of fur on the tops of them). Then there were his eyes. Those lovely bright brown orbs with an almost feline quality to his pupils that Jonathan could be so easily mesmerized by…

When those eyes finally looked up at him, Jonathan felt his heart almost stop. God, how he had missed those eyes.

He quickly shook himself from his daze and walked across the bridge to meet Speedwagon halfway. “Welcome home, Robert.” He greeted his beloved with a warm smile before wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him into a chaste but loving kiss.

“Good t’ be back, Jojo.” The mumrik returned with an equally kind look once the kiss ended. He looked down beside himself and Jonathan finally noticed the young girl at Speedwagon’s side. “Go on now, y’ should get back ‘ome ‘fore your papas come for me ‘ead.” He joked while giving the girl a playfully light shove.

The little girl, another mumrik but with long dark hair that was far straighter than Speedwagon’s own luscious locks and carrying a tinier backpack of her own, looked up at him. “Okay.” She walked off down the bridge, not even bothering to look at the other two still standing on it. “Bye, Mr.Speedwagon. Bye, Mr.Joestar.”

Jonathan smiled and called to her before she was out of earshot. “Tell your fathers I said hello, Elizabeth. Oh, and do feel free to come over for dinner- George would love to see you!”

The only response he got was a wave from the retreating girl, so he took that to mean she had heard him.

“That girl’s gettin’ better an’ better at survivin’ on ‘er own.” Speedwagon commented while adjusting his pack. “Pretty soon she won’t need me lookin’ out for ‘er no more.”

Jonathan grabbed the backpack off of his love’s shoulders, easily slinging it over one of his own and leaving his other arm free to wrap around Speedwagon’s shoulders and hold him close. “Really? But she’s still so young. Why, she’s not even a year older than George. Do you truly think she is ready to travel on her own?” The pair began to walk back towards town, taking their time so they could speak comfortably and spend more time together.

“She ain’t a moomin, love- she’s a mumrik.” Speedwagon stated, a silent purr going through him that Jonathan could feel due to their closeness. “We don’t exactly got a time for this sort o’ thing. Hell, most of us just end up raisin’ ourselves from the day we can crawl.”

Jonathan was quite aware of that major difference between their two species. While moomins tended to raise and care for their young, mumriks were more inclined to be solitary creatures. Speedwagon himself had no recollection of any parents ever being in his life and had grown up all by himself.

This led to more than a few misunderstandings between Speedwagon and those around him over the years.

The first incident occurred when little Lisa was discovered as a baby out in the woods one summer while Erina was pregnant with George. Jonathan had tried to search for her parents, showing the baby to several people in town, all of them failing to recognize her. When Jonathan showed the infant to his male partner, Speedwagon had identified her as a mumrik infant just by sniffing one of her tiny ears.

He then startled Jonathan with his casual reply of “Just set ‘er back down wherever y’ found ‘er.” When the moomin explained that he found the girl alone in the forest, Speedwagon just gave him a confused look. “So?” He had asked with a tilt of his head. “That’s probably where she wanted t’ be. Jus’ let ‘er wander ‘round. If she dies, it just means she ain’t meant t’ be ‘ere.”

The mumrik had said those words with no trace of cruelty or coldness. Rather, he said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and Jonathan should already have been aware of it.

That day led to a long conversation about the vast differences between moomin parenting and mumrik parenting. Speedwagon still seemed confused by the end of it all, not fully understanding the concept of raising a child like that, but he at least understood that the thought of abandoning the child to the wilderness would upset his partner. In the end, they gave Elizabeth to the two moomins living on the edge of the forest- Dire and Straights, who seemed happy to have a child of their own. Speedwagon advised them against taking her in, citing that raising mumrik children was difficult at best, but they cared for her nonetheless.

Several other incidents popped up whenever the blond mumrik was asked to help look after Elizabeth and George. He had a bad tendency to leave them in different places around town due to forgetting that they wouldn’t know how to find their way back (Elizabeth improved at this quickly and began learning her way around town, often leading George to help him find his way). Teaching him the proper way to hold infants and small children had been an ordeal, as he would often startle if one of them started crying (or biting, in Elizabeth’s case) and nearly drop them. Then there was the whole adventure centered around how to do little things such as feeding them or helping them with their clothes, both things that Speedwagon was under the impression of “shouldn’t they already know how to do that?”.

It took a few years of trial and error, but Speedwagon had eventually come around to the idea of parenting. There were still certain things he didn’t understand, but he had become skilled enough to look after one or both of the children on his own. He was also the one that Dire and Straights trusted to look after Elizabeth when she needed to travel away for winter.

Jonathan shook himself from his reminiscing, glancing in the general direction he knew Dire and Straights’ cottage to be in. “Well, I hope her fathers can accept the idea of her traveling on her own..”

Jonathan felt Speedwagon’s shrug against his side and his arm. “Ain’t like I didn’ warn ‘em what they were getting’ int’ when they took ‘er in.”

“Indeed.” Jonathan agreed reluctantly. “You informed them quite well, dear.” Deciding to change the subject as that one would likely end up going in circles, Jonathan recalled George’s words from breakfast that morning. “George is quite excited to see what you brought him this time.”

“Heh, he always is.” Speedwagon gave a small chuckle, clearly thinking of the young moomin’s excited nature. “But I know ‘alf o’ it’s just cause ‘e thinks ‘e can trick me int’ comin’ back every year.”

“You knew?” Jonathan asked with short gasp.

Speedwagon glanced up at the taller man with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah. Why’re y’ actin’ like y’ weren’t the one puttin’ ‘im up to it?”

Jonathan gave him a fake pout and tried to sound offended. “Why, I would never do such a thing, Robert!”

Speedwagon hummed in thought and tilted his head to the side. “True. Seems more like somethin’ Erina would do, honestly.”

They glanced at each other and broke into a fit of laughter, knowing that if Erina was there she would find it amusing as well.

They walked all the way around town, taking the scenic routes and back roads as much as possible so they could spend all the time they wished alone with each other. Soon enough they would be home, surrounded by their loving family and enjoying a delicious meal while Speedwagon spoiled George with gifts and regaled them all with tales of his adventures while he was away.

For now though, as they walked side-by-side with Jonathan’s arm around Speedwagon’s shoulders and the mumrik’s tail twining around his own behind them, this moment was just for the two of them.

Ending Notes: So, when I was little I loved the Moomins, still do, actually. I recently got back into it due to finding an old journal where I wrote down some early fanfiction (I may rewrite some of those stories) about the first OTP I ever had- MoomintrollxSunfkin. Between that and the surge of Moomins stuff online due to the new Netflix series, I started looking at stuff on Tumblr for Moomins.

At one point, my best friend/room mate saw an image of Snufkin that’s going around online that says “Be Gay, Do Crime”. They laughed and said “Hey, that sounds like Speedwagon!” I laughed along with it at the time, but, the more I thought about it, the more I started having am existential crisis over how much the characters actually FIT.

Jonathan is kindhearted and sweet and understanding and accepting of others despite how different they are but is very tough and will not hesitate to defend those he cares about, just like Moomintroll.

Speedwagon is rough and exists on the fringes of society and goes against what most would consider proper (earlier in his life, at least) but is actually quite wise and has good instincts and a good heart, like Snufkin.

So, when I saw there was an AU day for this event, I decided to write my first JJBA OTP as my first EVER OTP and it fit way too easily XD

I might go back and add another chapter later, but I wanted to at least get this part done in time for the event.

[ramajmedia]

10 Things Frasier Did Better Than Cheers | ScreenRant

There’s never been a more successful spin-off than Frasier. Having been derived based on a character who was far from the main attraction on Cheers, the spin-off was nothing like the main show and its uniqueness enabled it to last over a decade before its conclusion.

RELATED: 10 Huge Stars We All Forgot Appeared On Cheers

As the two series had such a stark contrast in their presentation, there are separate fans for both shows, with many not ever even having seen Cheers. In case you are a Cheers fan and aren’t sure if you want to watch Frasier, or you’re a Frasier fan who wants to take pride in your fandom of choice, here are 10 things that Frasier did better than Cheers.

10 Smarter Jokes

The point behind Cheers was that it was an escape over to a place where you meet your friends and make stupid jokes. To that effect, the show’s jokes comprised of either slapstick humor, or just jokes that were plainly understood.

RELATED: Cheers: 10 Hidden Details About The Main Characters Everyone Missed

Frasier switched this up by employing the sophistication of characters like Frasier and Niles, and most jokes were based on their snobbishness, with a lot of puns, clever deliveries, and jokes set up in advance that would land like a brick at the proper time to deliver the comedy. It was a wittier way to present the show, making the Frasier jokes more memorable.

9 Continuity

Cheers loved to ignore stuff we’d seen in previous episodes in order to have jokes applicable in a later one. For instance, we saw Diane and Carla make up many times, only for them to become enemies once more the next episode; there were several other cases like this.

On Frasier, you could be certain that established ground would remain that way and storylines we didn’t even like, such as Roz and Frasier hooking up or Frasier being attracted to a woman who liked his mother, would still be referenced later on so that watching these episodes actually meant something. There was even a whole 11-year sort of flashback episode in the last season where we saw the actors dress up exactly how their characters looked like in the particular season we were flashing back to.

8 Firmer Relationships

Although everyone at Cheers had a lovely time with each other, you got the sense they never met one another outside of the bar. Each time a character stopped coming to the bar and returned, everyone would greet them as if they hadn’t met since their departure.

RELATED: Cheers: 10 Hidden Details You Never Noticed

Since Frasier was around his family the whole time on his show, we got to see these people form firmer relationships. It was great to watch too, as we could be certain these guys could count on each other even if there was a great distance between them - it made the camaraderie come across as natural.

7 Family Aspect

To elaborate on the previous point, on Frasier we got to see where Frasier came from. This lacked severely on Cheers, as we had no clue what everyone’s background was like; save for Carla, whose family was used only as a joke. 

The show also furthered this by having Frasier strengthen his relationship with his father and brother. We saw him actually have a real relationship with them after their original dynamic had been nothing but getting on one another’s nerves. Frasier showed that you don’t need friends if you’ve got family.

6 More Fleshed Out Supporting Characters

Norm’s characterization was that he was a slacker. Cliff was a moron who made facts up. Carla was a jerk who liked belittling people. And on and on we can go about character traits. Cheers, being an ensemble show, settled upon keeping the supporting characters tied to their most popular trait rather than have more to them than met the eye.

RELATED: Friends: 10 Saddest Moments, Ranked

On Frasier, we have so much to consider where Niles, Daphne, Roz, and Martin are concerned, as we went behind just their quirks. For instance, Niles generally comes across as a dweeb who was always paranoid; by the end of the show, he had shown tenacity, bravery, and fierceness - all this because the show spent more time fleshing his character out.

5 Longevity

All right, we’re aware both shows ran for eleven seasons so they’re even in number of years on-air, but our point here is that Frasier managed to stay the same length despite having a minimal cast and not as much potential for material.

After all, there was nothing in the premise other than Frasier working at a radio station and living with his father, but the show never felt old. Cheers had to rely on a change of environment midway after Diane left and Rebecca came in. It also needed new characters to feel fresh, and we saw the inclusion of Woody, Lilith, Frasier, and other side characters.

4 Character Development

Can you name anything about Carla, Norm, or Cliff that was very different from how they started out in 1982 to how they were in 1993? Heck, did you think they were different when you saw them on Frasier in 2002? Nope, they remained exactly the same.

RELATED: Friends: 10 Times Ross Broke Our Hearts

On the other side, Martin, Daphne, Niles, and Roz were nothing how they were in the beginning of Frasier, and we were happy to see them progress in their lives and change their personalities as they went on. Even Frasier developed well, as we saw him confront his issues with relationships and give love a chance in the series finale.

3 Closing Scenes

This is an easy one in the favor of Frasier, seeing as Cheers didn’t have an end credit scene; however, even if you consider the scene before the credits, Frasier still did it better. We’d have a silent joke where the theme song played, making the end credit scene a smartly executed brick joke that closed out a subplot from the beginning of the episode.

On Cheers, the final scene would only close out the main story, and would end generally without warning; this would be funny, sure, but it would also make you feel wanting more rather than feeling fulfilled.

2 A Better Frasier

On Cheers, Frasier generally made up the numbers for the cast rather than have something particularly interesting about him. Our perception of him was mainly that he was a smart guy among fools who also acted like a fool for the most part.

RELATED: Every Chuck Lorre TV Show, Ranked

When we were around him on his own show, this was where we saw Frasier for being capable of being more than a “too smart for his own good” character. His fat cat attitude, penchant for sherry drinking, and among other antics were supplemented by his general willingness to help, and love for his family. Had there not been Frasier, then we would have a radically lower opinion of the character based on Cheers.

1 A Better Intro (Arguably)

Okay, now this might be a very arguable topic, seeing as Cheers’ theme song is timeless and still resonates within people to this day, but Frasier might get the win on this point based on just how catchy and creative its theme song is.

Seriously, go on ahead and check the lyrics for the song and you’ll find out just how insightful it is over the format of the show. There are several interpretations as to what Kelsey Grammer is singing about (yes, that’s his voice) when he says “Scrambled Eggs”, and just the playfulness of the tune is catchy enough for it to be ringing in your ears for hours.

NEXT: Big Bang Theory: 10 Times Amy And Penny Were Friendship Goals

source https://screenrant.com/10-things-frasier-better-cheers/

[iheartgod175]

Spring In His Step

As noted earlier, I have mixed feelings on Ricochet's cameo in "Yogi's Treasure Hunt". On one hand, I was happy that he showed up in it at all (sadly, Droop didn't get a cameo in it) and got to work with Snooper and Blabber—I would've freaked if he'd worked with Quick Draw McGraw, but I was happy with what we got. But on the other hand, his character on that cameo was just weird; he does way more than spam his "PING-PING-PING" catchphrase everywhere he goes. After that, I decided to write a redux of that scene, which I think is truer to his character.

This is also my first time ever writing Snooper and Blabber. Normally when I write H-B characters I try to capture their unique accents, but I barely watch Snooper and Blabber even though I like them both (Snooper is awesome, and Blabber is adorable as heck), so I have them talking normally in here. I just hope I stayed true to their characters.  

Enjoy! 

"Say, Snoop," Blabber started as they headed up the steps to the FBI's secret headquarters. Well, technically, it wasn't secret at all—the neon signs flashing  "Open 24 Hours" and "FBI Secret HQ" could've been spotted from miles away. "What do you think the special agent's gonna be like?"

"Who can say, Blab?" Snooper answered, opening the door for his small assistant and heading into the office. "Hopefully we don’g get a stutterin’ nervous wreck like the last one."

"This 'Ricochet Rabbit' guy sounds like he's kinda hyper, Snoop," Blabber said. 

"Hyper? Ya can't afford to be hyper in the FBI, Blab. Betcha that’s probably his nickname on the job. Trust me, he's probably gonna be all business-like when we go in and meet him," Snooper said.  

After wandering down the hall for a few seconds, they found themselves in front of Ricochet Rabbit's office. "Here we are, Blab." Snooper knocked on the door three times, then waited for an answer.

"Come in!" someone called from inside. "I'll be with ya in a sec!"

Snooper and Blabber made their way inside. The room was a light green, with yellow-orange tiled flooring. Brown file cabinets were lined on all sides of the room, some of them overflowing with papers. Standing on a footstool in front of one of them was a white-furred rabbit with a purple hat and a black shirt as well as a brown belt, even though he didn't have any pants. He was placing some files in the top drawer of the file cabinet.

"Are you Special Agent Ricochet?" Snooper asked.

The rabbit turned towards Snooper, and his yellow eyes brightened as a friendly smile came onto his face. "Yep, that's me!" He shut the drawer, followed by shooting off the stepladder.

Blabber started to tell him to look out, only to stop when he saw Ricochet bounce off the wall, the ceiling and the adjacent wall before settling before him and Snooper by his desk. He was a full head taller than Blabber, coming up to Snooper's waist—both of them had assumed he'd be shorter. The brown belt he'd been wearing was actually a gun holster, and he had a bright gold start pinned to the front of his orange-starred shirt.

"Special Agent PING-PING-PINNNGGG Ricochet Rabbit, bringin' you rapid results in roudin' up renegades, robbers an' rampant rustlers at rodeos, at your service," he introduced. Or at least, it sounded like an introduction—the beginning and the end was all they heard and the rest was meshed together. "You two must be those detectives the chief was tellin' me about. Snooper an' Blabber, right?"

For a moment, Blabber forgot to speak—he was too stunned by this to even form a response. He looked over at Snooper, who stared down at the rabbit with one eyebrow raised. He knew the cat well enough to know that he was surprised.

"Uh, right," Snooper said, finally regaining his composure. "Well, if you don't mind, Special Agent Ricochet, I'd like ta get down to business."

"But of course," Ricochet said. "Ya can use that computer I've got right over thar."

"Much obliged," Snooper said, turning on the computer. "Tune your ears to this, guys."

When a picture of the Evil Queen pulled up, Ricochet let out a small squeak. "That's the person you want me to look into? I'm amazed that my screen didn't break," he said.

Snooper sighed. "Yeah, she's not much to look at," he said. "An' you know, she's got more aliases than the Manhattan phone book."

"With a face like hers, I'm amazed those aliases held up," Ricochet mused.

Snooper couldn't help but smile at that. At least this guy had a sense of humor, unlike their last contact. He turned to Blabber. "You mind readin' him the list of aliases, Blab?"

"Sure, Snoop." Blab pulled out a purple notebook from inside his trenchcoat. "Let's see...there's Three-Lipped Louise, High-Heeled Helen, Sadie the Shady Lady-"

The book was snatched from his hand after that. Snooper glared down at his assistant. "That's not the list of aliases, Blab! That's my address book!"

"But why do you have so many dangerous ladies in-"

"Never mind that, Blab," Snooper interrupted, noticing Ricochet looking at him inquisitively. "We don't want people getting funny ideas."  

"Sorry, Snoop."

"It's alright, little fella. It was jus' a mistake," Ricochet said, giving Blabber a small, playful smile. "Every lawman's got dangerous gals in 'is address book."

"Do you have any in your address book?" Blabber asked.

Ricochet rubbed his knuckles on the front of his shirt, his smirk sly. "If I told ya about it now, ya probably wouldn't be able to sleep again," he said.  

Blabber stared at him with wide eyes, Ricochet chuckled, and Snooper cleared his throat. "As I was goin' to say," he said, "this evil queen's criminal record is definitely an LP. So we'll need Special Agent Ricochet to bring her in."

"Why, sure!" Despite his diminutive size, Ricochet attempted to stand up proud and tall. "I've brought in lots of high-class criminals back from when I was workin' as a sheriff. This should be easy."

"Well, it would be if the queen didn't have any evil magic on her," Blabber said. 

"Magic or not, that's not gonna stop me," Ricochet said. "There was never a criminal that couldn't be caught by Sheriff PING-PING-PIIIINNNGG Ricochet Rabbit!" He paused, and then chuckled. "Well, more like 'Special Agent' Ricochet now. My former deputy, Droop-a-Long Coyote, is sheriff of Hoop 'n Holler now."

"Is that so?" Snooper asked, again giving him the one-eyebrow look. He was not used to that pinging noise the rabbit made; hopefully, he wouldn’t do it all night long.  

"Yup. Now come on; I've got a car ya can use out in the garage. It's a rickety old thing, but it'll get us thar in no time," Ricochet answered, straightening his hat. "Hold on ta somethin' firm whilst I make a blue streak over thar."

Blabber grabbed onto the firmest thing he knew. "I am, Mr. Special Agent," he said, holding Snooper's waist.  

"Blab-" Snooper started, but it was then that Ricochet took off, shooting out of the room so fast that he created a gust of wind behind him that dragged Snooper  through the floor and into the wall. The whistle of wind could still be heard down the hallway, as well as loud pinging noises as Ricochet bounced off of several walls.

Blabber looked down the hall, his mouth formed into a small "o" of surprise. He looked at Snooper, who was rubbing his head from his collision with the wall. "What do you think of the Special Agent, Snoop?"

"Well, he's certainly got a spring in his step," Snooper muttered, adjusting his deerskin cap. "And I thought that name was a nickname of his."

"I think he's amazing," Blabber said, his tone filled with awe on that last word. He paused, and then looked up at the cat with a friendly smile. "But of course, he'll never be as amazing as you, Snoop."

"Blab, why didn't you say that when the agent was in here? Now nobody can hear ya!" Snooper said as he left. "Now come on. With his speed, he'll probably wonder what took us so long."

Blab stared after the cat, eyes wide with unbelief, and then he sighed. He was used to such behavior by now, but it never failed to catch him off guard. "Comin', Snoop."

In my honest opinion, I think Blabber would admire Ricochet mostly for his speed, although Snoop will always be his hero. And yeah, I expanded a little more on that "address book" of Snooper's. If it weren’t obvious Ricochet’s gonna have fun teasing Snooper mercilessly on this :P

Date Written: March 14th, 2017