#now even more half-formed and rambly than usual!

[mystic-writings]

closing time | robin buckley

PAIRING — robin buckley x fem!reader

SUMMARY — robin has a crush on you. what happens when you're locked in keith's office after the store closes?

WARNINGS — fluff, banter, love confessions, mentions of panic/anxiety & season three

WORD COUNT — 2,353

NOTES — something short and sweet for my beloved robin!! i hope y'all enjoy and don't forget to leave feedback please! also, this was very loosely inspired by sparks fly by taylor swift

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Robin Buckley was utterly, helplessly, in love. 

There was no denying it anymore; Robin was completely in love with you. She would light up every time you walked into class; her heart stopped every time you smiled at her, and spluttered back to life when you’d say her name. Her mind ran away from her every time you shared a shift at the video store, full of daydreams of what you and her would even do if you dated, only to be shut down by the brutal fear of rejection. 

 But you didn’t know that.

As far as Robin Buckley was aware, you only thought of her as your anxious, rambling friend who, more often than not, spent her shifts making fun of your co-worker Steve and his almost inexplicable lack of game. 

Most of the time that she was around you, Robin was forced to ‘act normal’, as if she’d ever done that before. It usually resulted in useless rambles about something weird she’d read about, like gingivitis or how most of the backdrop scenes from Star Wars were actually just still paintings. But you usually seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and that took some of the uncomfortable anxiety away. And sometimes, you’d even laugh. A genuine one, too, and it would make Robin’s day.

Tonight was a lot like that. It was Friday, and the typical customer buzz around the store was enough to keep you, Robin, and Steve occupied for a while. But by 9pm, the clientele died out, and the three of you were behind the counter playing a round of Crazy 8s. 

“Hah!” Robin said, slamming her palm to the pile of cards. She pulled it back to reveal an 8 of clubs, a proud smile on her face. “Suck it, Steve! Last card,” she huffed, leaning on the counter as you and Steve stared expectantly at her. “Oh, right. And it’s hearts now.”

Steve huffed, glancing at his cards before taking one from the pick-up pile. “Dick move, Buckley.”

“Dick face, Harrington.”

“What does that even mean?” You asked, looking at yours before placing a 3 on the pile. 

Robin just shrugged, her lips forming a smirk as she placed her final card down. ���I win!” 

“Alright, I’m out,” Steve huffed, tossing his cards on the pile. You couldn’t help the overwhelming amount of clubs he had, causing you to stifle a giggle. “See you losers tomorrow.” 

“Good luck with that, Steve, ‘cause I won’t be here.” You mentioned, scooping the cards into your hands. “Mom’s taking me to Indianapolis for some family thing. Had to cancel my morning shift, which means…” 

Steve, who had been retrieving his jacket and car keys from under the counter, turned back with what you could only describe as a look of horror painted on his face. “No,” 

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’.

“No! You can’t do this to me, Y/n!” 

“I already did, Steve.” You began shuffling the cards. 

“But Keith always smells like eggs in the mornings! And he hates me,” Steve whined. “I can’t believe you.” 

“Sorry,” you shrugged half-heartedly. “Can’t un-cancel my shift now, Keith’ll be pissed if I call him this late.” 

Robin scoffed, arms folded across her chest as she watched you shuffle the cards intently. “No, he won’t. He’s practically in love with you.” 

You shuddered at the thought. “Ew, gross. Please never say those words to me again, Robin. I beg of you. I think I’ll die, or… contract something if I think about it for more than 30 seconds.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ve gotta get outta here,” Steve said, spinning his keys on his finger. “See you weirdos later.” 

You and Robin shouted farewells as he exited the store, the bell ringing, signifying his departure. Glancing up at Robin from your focus on the deck of cards, you asked, “Another round?” 

The girl nodded, a shaky exhale leaving her lips. You were closing together, and while it wasn’t uncommon, time alone with you was something Robin treasured. And the way you looked up at her through your eyelashes… Robin was going to be combating the butterflies in her stomach all night, it seemed. 

The next hour seemed to fly by with no issues. 

No customers came by after Steve left, so you and Robin played cards and watched a movie on the big TV hanging from the ceiling until your watch beeped, signalling 10pm — closing time. 

The pair of you worked in tandem, one of you counting the cash and working out what the deposit would be while the other made sure that everything looked nice and that the return carts were empty — of course they were, Steve had done them long before he left. 

Disaster struck when you went into Keith’s office to finish closing for the night. 

The analog clock on Keith’s desk read 10:18pm when you passed it, Robin just behind you. All that was left was to write up the deposit in an email and send it to the regional inbox. It was a delicate procedure, to say the least, but with Robin reading everything out to you as you typed it up made things a lot easier. 

“You got that?” Robin asked, hopping off the desk beside you. 

You glanced at her, fingers typing away. “Yeah, Robin, I think I can remember how many five dollar bills were put in the deposit envelope.”

Robin snorted beside you, the already-open safe door creaking as she pulled it. Slipping the envelope inside, along with the deposit slip, she shut the door with a loud clang, causing you to flinch slightly. 

“And…” you pressed a few final buttons on the keyboard, the computer trilling as the email finished sending. “We’re off! Let’s shut this place down and get the hell out of here.”

“As if I’d actually want to stay,” Robin grimaced as you powered down the computer. “This place smells like…” Robin sniffed the air, her face scrunching further. “Cheetos and B.O.” 

You giggled, pushing the chair into the desk. “Gross,” 

Robin made her way to the office door, a giddy smile on her face. “What? I’m right! It’s like Keith doesn’t know what air freshener is. Or a shower.”

She pulled on the door, her smile falling as she twisted the knob. 

“What? Robin, what is it?” 

“I— I don’t know,” Robin twisted the doorknob again, pulling the door toward her, to no avail. She twisted again, frantically, panic setting into her gut. “I think it’s locked!” 

“No,” you nearly gasped. “It can’t be locked!” 

“Okay, well, I’m turning the doorknob and it’s not moving, so…!” Robin said, voice shaking as she turned to look back at you. 

“Let me try, Robin. Maybe it’s just stuck.” You suggested. Robin relented, stepping to the side as you grasped the cool metal. You twisted and pulled, your movements growing frustrated and frantic as you realised that the door wasn’t stuck — you were, in fact, locked in. “Damn it!” You exclaimed, kicking the door. “I can’t believe this,” 

Robin’s hands flew to her hair, grasping at her scalp as she tried to calm herself down. She watched you begin to pace, chewing on your thumbnail, thinking of something, anything you could do to get yourselves out of this office. 

You were suddenly beginning to feel cramped, like the walls were closing in on you. But you took a breath, eyes scanning the room, landing on the phone conveniently placed on Keith’s desk. “Ha!” 

Robin watched you rush to the other side of the desk, picking up the receiver and beginning to dial a number. “Are you calling the police?”

“The police?” You scrunched up your nose, holding the receiver to your ear. “No, that’s stupid. I’m calling Steve.” 

“Calling the police when we’re locked in a room with no way out is stupid?” Robin scoffed, taking up your previous state of pacing. 

The phone rang in your ear as you sat down on the chair. “Of course it is, Robin. Steve has a set of keys, and there’s pretty much a guarantee that no one’s going to answer a Friday night call. They’re all out busting parties and pulling over drunk drivers. They’re gonna put us on the back burner. But Steve won’t. Besides, he’s not doing anything tonight, his date cancelled on him this morning.” 

Robin barely acknowledged your words, mind running wild with the thoughts running through her head. Steve would help, of course he would. Ever since Starcourt, he knew how much Robin hated being stuck somewhere with no way to get out. She just hoped he’d get here quickly. Being stuck in a room with no real way out was one thing, but being stuck in a room with the girl you’re practically in love with was something entirely different. 

“Steve!” You practically shouted with joy.

“Jesus,” Steve groaned. “Tone it down, please! What’s up?”

You huffed, leaning back in Keith’s chair. “Look, Robin and I locked ourselves in the office, somehow, and we need you to come by with your keys and let us out.” Steve sighed on the other line. “Pretty please? I’ll buy you Burger King on Sunday.” 

“Fine. But I’m taking my sweet time getting there. I’m on the other side of town, if you even care to know.” 

“I know where you live, Steve.” You rolled your eyes. “Just hurry up. I think Robin’s losing her mind in here.”

“When is she not losing her mind?” 

“Steve,” you warned, sighing a farewell as he hung up on you. “Okay, he’ll be here soon. I think.” 

“God,” Robin groaned, palms pressed to her forehead. “My mom’s gonna kill me. My cousins are coming into town for the week and I’m supposed to clean tomorrow and instead I’m stuck here, in a room that smells like death, where I’ll probably actually die! Of, like, dehydration or starvation or something meanwhile my cousin Evan is happily sitting on my mom’s couch eating cookies or something!” 

“Starvation?” You asked yourself as you stood from the chair. “Robin, it’ll be fine. Steve’s on his way,” 

The girl barely acknowledged you, still pacing, arms flying around as she spoke. “And, by the way, starvation? A really painful way to die! It hurts, Y/n, a lot. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve read, but who am I to judge! I mean, I’ve never starved to death before! Not until now, at least!” 

You sighed, stepping in Robin’s path, making sure to grab her shoulders firmly, eyes locked onto hers. “Robin,” you said, eyebrows raised as the girl fell silent. “Steve should be here anytime soon. We won’t starve to death. All we have to do is wait out the half an hour before he gets here, max. We’ll be fine.” 

Robin’s eyebrows cinched before she shook her head. “But what if something bad happens, Y/n? Then what are we gonna do? We’ll die! And I can’t die! I haven’t seen Evan since I was 9! He lives in Pennsylvania! Hershey, Pennsylvania! Do you have any idea how far that is?”

“It’s, like, an 8 hour drive, Robin,” you said, voice quiet. Your eyes stayed locked on hers, watching the anxiety swim through her green irises. It was like you could see the gears turning, clicking and grinding to form more anxious thoughts for her to spew out in a breathless panic. 

“Not to mention the smell in here! It’s horrible! I mean, seriously, could Keith not afford a fan, or-or some sort of air freshener! And the windows! They’re so small, and they barely open, and—” 

Robin’s words ceased when you pulled her forward, crashing your lips onto hers. Her muscles tensed for a moment, eyes wide, until she realised you were kissing her. You were kissing her. Robin barely had the time to kiss you back, to place her hands gingerly on your waist before you were pulling back, sucking in air. 

“What was that for?” Robin asked, voice squeaking. 

You only smiled. “I really needed you to stop talking.” You joked, a hesitant hand reaching up to brush some of Robin’s hair from her face. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that for, like, 6 months.” 

“Oh,” Robin said, nodding briefly before she smiled, cheeks burning red. “Can you do it again?” 

You smiled wide, nodding ecstatically before placing your hands on Robin’s neck, pulling her closer so that you could kiss her again. 

It was slower this time, a test of the waters as you both melted into one another’s touch. A delicate kiss, one that said a lot more than either of you could find the words for. Robin’s fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, her mind barely comprehending what was happening right now. 

The rest of the world seemed to fall away at that moment, so much so that neither of you paid attention to the soundscape around you, failing to hear the sound of keys jingling in the lock — the door to the office squealing as it opened, and the subsequent screams of Steve Harrington. 

“What the hell, guys!” Steve screamed, covering his eyes as you and Robin jumped away from one another, lips swollen and cheeks burning. “I leave you by yourselves for an hour and a half and you’ve got your tongues down each other’s throats!” 

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, sheepish as you took Robin’s hand, leading her past his gobsmacked form. 

“You owe me a hell of a lot more than just Burger King for making me see that.” 

“Sure thing!” You called out as you and Robin slung your bags over your shoulders.

“Thank you, dingus!” Robin shouted over her shoulder, smiling wide at Steve, following you out of the store.

You huffed a laugh and smiled at Robin, swinging your hands as you grabbed your keys from your pocket. “Want a ride home?”

“Sure,” Robin smiled, relishing the feeling of your hand in hers. She made sure to keep it there during the entire drive to her house, and as often as she could after that, too.

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[marvel-snape-writes]

Hi there :) could you write something on letting snape fuck you raw for the first time and he goes feral for cumming inside you 😵‍💫 pretty please!

Our Best Worst Habit

18+ smuuuuuuuuutttttttyyyy

🪄— thank you so much for this request, I hope I did it some justice! 🫶

4k+ words

His chamber was silent. His voice was silent. His mood was foul. The atmosphere was heavy. The party was over.

Severus had been sat in his desk chair since they had returned, busying himself by reading the newspaper that had been placed on it earlier in the day and the chair pushed back enough so he could hold the paper out fully in both hands in front of him. The room was quiet enough for her to be able to hear each turn of each page and his breathing as he did it.

Though he did somewhat make her weary when he was in this state, she almost enjoyed trying to entice him out of it. Cautiously, she approached him from behind and place her hands against his shoulders, brushing the material over his shoulders as she dipped her head forward and pressing a light kiss to his ear before speaking softly, “Anything exciting in there?”

Severus’ breath hitched when he felt her hands upon his shoulders and changed completely when her lips were against his ear, nostrils flaring at her question. He looked to the side of him where her head was positioned, letting out a small huff but not speaking a single word.

“Severus?” She spoke against his neck this time, brushing her lips against his skin slowly. Severus cleared his throat irritably, his grip on the newspaper now tightening and crinkling the pages slightly, “Sev…” She spoke once more, pursing her lips against him now.

Severus didn’t speak, but the way he wafted his arm in the air and glare he gave spoke a thousand words. He let out an irritated, low growl from the back of his throat when he felt her pushing her luck once more as her lips dragged against the side of his neck whilst forming into a smirk. Calmly, though suspiciously calmly, he closed the paper and folded it in half, placing it on the desk a few inches in front of him. Silently, he raised the same arm as before but clicked his finger and thumb together this time before pointing his large index finger at the space in front of him between the chair and desk, still not saying anything.

Her breath hitched from his soundless command, standing up straight and standing where he was still pointing. Once in front of him, he lowered his hand and began taking his time devouring her body with his eyes. His lip twitched and the room remained quiet enough to just hear their breathing. His lips then began to part, their eyes meeting briefly before he snapped out of his trance as if he was suddenly reminded of a bad memory.

“Are you going to tell me why you are being so cold?” She asked, leaning back against his desk on her hands and tilting her head to the side with a cocky expression as his eyes flickered up to hers again, “What’s the matter, Severus?”

“Must you displease me all evening and then continue to do so once back in my chamber?” Severus finally spoke, though in a flat tone.

“I’m sorry?” She asked with a confused expression.

“Do not play dumb with me, Miss Eleanor,” Severus glared, “The way you behaved tonight was insufferable,” He spat, his following words lower, “With that boy.”

“Boy?” Eleanor squinted her eyes for a few moments before realising who he meant, “Oh, you mean Noah? He’s not a boy, he’s older than me!” Eleanor protested, already aware of her and Severus’ larger age difference.

“Do not speak his name in my chamber!” Severus’ usual tone raised slightly, gritting his teeth, “That boy wouldn't know the first thing to do with you.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes from his words and hopped up onto his desk, dangling her legs over the edge as he continued to ramble;

“Flicking his eyes where they were not wanted, placing his hands where they should not have been, if I really must think back to the horrific event.” He spoke in a disgusted tone, the pale glare still on his face.

“Horrific event? Really?” Eleanor rolled her eyes but Severus’ face didn't budge so she tried to continue pushing his buttons, “Anyway, who's to say that his eyes or hands weren't wanted?”

She got him. She knew when he was almost at his limit because he wouldn't shoot his sharp tongue like usual; instead, he would say nothing while his lips twitched madly as if struggling to contain all that he wanted to say in his mouth. Eleanor narrowed her eyes and discreetly parted her legs as she shuffled a little further forward to the edge of the table and discreetly enjoyed the brief moment Severus’ eyes fell to the hem of her short dress as her legs parted.

“Hm?” She smirked, now pressing her knees together as her eyes remained on him.

“That is one of the problems that were presented to me…” He cleared his throat, swallowing hard, “I was starting to think you liked him, too.”

“Yeah?” She bit her lip and reached her foot forward, placing it on the chair Severus was sat on, against the bare part from the way his legs naturally parted when he was sat… against the part of the chair that was just beneath his crotch, “You think I've taken a liking to Noah?”

“Don't you speak his name in my chamber.” He snapped, trying with every muscle in his body not to glance down at her foot, “I will not warn you again.”

“Why, hm?” She raised her eyebrows with a devilish grin, lightly pressing the tip of her shoe against his crotch, “Are you jealous, Severus?”

His jaw clenched when he felt the strange contact against his crotch and felt like a boiling kettle when he heard her question, as if steam was about to come out of his ears. He exhaled slowly and slouched a further into his chair, making her foot ride up his crotch a little further.

“I could crush you right now.” She spoke the threat in a stupidly seductive tone, teasing her heel against his crotch and lightly nudging it to emphasise each word, “Are. You. Jealous. Severus?”

He tried his best not to let any reaction show or sound pass his lips, but it only lasted a few seconds before his lips parted and let out a soft whine, narrowing his eyebrows.

“So, that's why you've been so off with me tonight?” She asked, continuing to rock her foot against his crotch and now placing her other foot on one of his thighs to keep them parted, “Giving me the silent treatment because you were jealous of me paying attention to some other guy?”

Severus’ nostrils flared and he finally snapped, pushing her feet away and standing up as he spoke, “Listen to me,” He was towering over her now as she leaned back on her hands again, “Are you listening?” He looked down at her with a dark expression.

“Oh, I am listening…” Eleanor bit her lip sensually, gazing up at him.

“If this thing is going to work-”

“’Thing’, hm?” She scoffed until she was cut off by him pushing his face closer to hers.

“Silence while I am speaking,” He spat bluntly, “If whatever is going on between us is to continue, I need you to myself again. No ifs, no buts, I need you to all to myself.”

“Are you pleading with me, Professor Snape?” She smirked, sliding her hands up his chest and onto his shoulders, “I must be yours?” She squinted her eyes, “Despite us only fooling around?”

“Mine and only mine.” He growled, leaning down a little further as he placed his hands against the desk at either side of her.

“Or… what?” She dared to ask, able to feel his breathing against her lips now.

“Trust me… you don't want to know.” He spoke lowly and slowly, their lips only centimetres apart.

“That’s a little possessive, don't you think?” She spoke as close to his lips as possible without kissing him.

“Quite frankly, my dear,” He spoke quietly but firmly, “I don't give a fuck.”

The minute he got to the end of his sentence, their lips were pressed against each other. Eleanor whimpered from the harshness of it and Severus moved closer to his desk, grinning against her lips when her legs parted to either side of him. It wasn't long before the kiss grew deeper, Eleanor’s hands now in his hair as she kissed him urgently, desperately. Severus cupped her face in one of his large hands and tilted his head, grunting into the kiss as the tips of their tongues touched.

“Does jealousy make you horny, Severus?” She teased against his lips, giggling.

“Do not be absurd…” He mumbled, kissing her harder as if punishment for the question.

“You can't deny that someone preoccupying what's yours turns you on…” She played with his hair while they kissed in between her speaking, “Is it because you're already picturing what punishment you're going to give me, hm?”

“Jealousy does not turn me on.” Severus grunted, parting the kiss with a heavy sigh as he glared down at her.

“Oh, yeah?” She bit her lip once he pulled back, glancing between them and then back up at him, “You might want to try telling your cock that.”

“Your tongue is almost growing as sharp as mine, Miss Eleanor.” He sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth.

“At least it's not as arrogant.” Eleanor quickly fired back.

Severus’ temper raised further, his lip twitching angrily as his eyes darkened even more than their usual black. Eleanor was enjoying taunting him a little too much, and he could tell.

“So, not only did you spend the entire night with another man right under my nose,” He leaned over her once more, using one of his hands to fumble with the buttons on his pants, “And now you insist on thinking you can take that tone with me? I don't think so.”

“Mm…” She raised her eyebrows, becoming even more aroused by the way he was acting, “What are you going to do to me, professor?”

“Spread your fucking legs and I'll show you.” He responded in a gruff, demanding tone.

“Yes, sir…” Her eyes fell to his crotch again once his buttons were undone, the bulge now protruding through the opening and straining against the front of his boxers.

He dipped his head again and their lips met urgently with a bruising kiss. Eleanor’s arms snaked around his neck again and pulled at his bottom lip, enjoying the whine that came from him as a result. Her fingers darted into his hair as he rocked his hips up against the edge of his desk, rolling up onto his tip toes several times and making soft noises against her lips.

“What, is my punishment that you're going to fuck this desk instead of me?” She giggled when the desk rocked again briefly against the wall it was positioned against as a result of his hips.

“What have I told you about your fucking mouth?” He snarled, subtly enjoying the brief friction through the material of his underwear.

“Mm… so sweary…” She grinned against his lips.

“I’m going to need you to remove your underwear,” He grunted, “And actually be a good girl for me.”

“Actually…” She swallowed hard, seeing the disapproval in his face already for not immediately bowing to his command, “There’s a slight problem with that.”

“Miss Eleanor, I do not think it would be wise for you to disobey me again…” He exhaled through his nose with a glare, narrowing his suspicious eyes when he noticed her reaching for his wrists while leaning up to kiss him feverishly as he muttered against her lips, “You are becoming insufferable again…” They kissed again, her hands now guiding his to her thighs under her dress, “Intolerable…”

“The problem being...” She let go of his wrists and moved herself closer to the edge of the desk to encourage his hands to move further up her thighs, “I’m not wearing any.”

Her words left a tingle against his lips — a tingle that went directly down to his cock. He felt Eleanor smile as they kissed again, her hands now resting against his shoulders. Although he hardly doubted her for a moment, Severus’ hands still moved further under her dress just to make sure. Despite the feeling of her bare skin beneath his fingertips easing his mind, it did not ease the arousal bulging against his own underwear that was still purposefully brushing against the edge of his desk with each kiss.

“Did you remove your underwear for me or already in hopes for him?” He asked in a serious tone, pressing his fingertips into her skin and smirking when she whimpered against his lips.

“You,” She gasped when she felt his fingers move directly between her legs, kissing him hungrily, “Always for you.”

Severus swore he could hear the pulsing of his cock from her response, now pulling his hands away completely and holding her face in one hand and desperately reaching down to free himself from his underwear with the other.

“Fuck…” He mumbled to himself, now suddenly starting to feel around in the desk drawer and then his pockets as if in some desperate hope for some form of condom or alternative contraception, “I need… I just need…” He looked around frantically, frustrated with himself, “Stay right here. Don’t move a muscle.”

“Wait,” She reached out for him once he began to pull away, “Don’t go anywhere. Its fine.”

“But I don't have- I need to go get-”

“No, shh, I said it is fine,” She shook her head, pulling him closer to her again and stretching her legs out to wrap around his waist, “Honestly.”

“You don't… want me to use anything?” He asked, she shook her head so he repeated, “Anything?”

She shook her head again, glancing down at his hardened length for a moment before glancing up at him again, “I removed my underwear before I approached you when we got back because I didn't want any barriers to stop you throwing me around your chamber in a rage of jealousy, and I would quite like to stick to the theme…” She bit her lip when he stepped close to her again, his desperate, sticky precum wet length now lining up perfectly between her legs, “I’ve been learning the contraception spell, and there's only one way to know if it worked, right?” She giggled, their heavy, desire-filled eyes now meeting, “I want you to have your way with me, Severus. No barriers. Skin on skin.”

Severus’ lips parted as he struggled with a response, taking everything in him not to lose control hands-free right in that moment from her words alone.

“Show me what happens when someone touches what's yours.” She licked her lips seductively, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Too fucking right, you’re mine.” He snarled, gripping her thighs in his large hands as he thrusted his hips forward in one, swift motion. She let out a high-pitched moan and he exhaled loudly as he felt her tense around him immediately, but for the first time nothing between them, and spoke breathily into her ear, “And don't you ever ‘shush’ me again.”

Her lips parted to apologise but all that passed through them was an even louder moan. Severus was showing no mercy, already thrusting his hips at such a pace that their kisses were hard to maintain. He gripped her thighs firmly with his hands, their teeth now colliding with rough kisses.

“I love the way you claim me so selfishly…” She spoke against his lips, trying her best to grip onto him with her arms around his neck.

“I do not wish to ever see you with another man again,” He panted against her lips, “And I could not care less how selfish that sounds.”

“Mmm… fuck me like you mean it, Severus.” Her hand dived into his hair, pulling at it in time with his thrusts.

“Do not doubt my intentions…” He spoke gruffly, secretly still trying to get used to the feeling of nothing between them as his entire length continued to plunge in and out of her in fits of desperation.

He could easily lose himself in this new, much more sensitive feeling, and trying his hardest not to was not helped by Eleanor now wrapping her legs around him tightly and digging her heels into his bottom with each thrust he made. He had no choice but to break the kiss and gasp for air; his moans were continuous but he needed to at least attempt to try and catch his breath before he passed out.

“Mm… mm, fuck!” Eleanor cried out in pleasure from the sudden change of angle and speed of his hips, her legs now desperately trying to cling onto him as their bodies shuddered in delight with each thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes… agh!” Severus grunted between heavy breaths as his hips picked up an even more relentless pace.

“Y—You’re…” She reached out weakly to grab onto the buttons of his clothing but resulted in wafting the air clumsily instead as her entire body shivered from his harsh pace, her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy as they rolled back, “F—Fucking me so good, Severus…”

“I’m fucking you like you're mine.” He growled against her lips and shook his overcoat and cloak off, now standing in his black button down shirt and his desperately unbuttoned trousers which his strong thighs had prevented from pooling to the floor.

“Yeah?” She grinned and forced her eyes open, losing her breath completely when she saw the pure rush of delight visibly flowing through Severus’ body with each and every movement he made.

“Yes,” He responded with his eyes closed and placed one of his hands flat on the wall to steady himself; the bare contact and pace of his movements were giving him so much pleasure that he feared the feeling he could pass out wash over him again, “You. Are. Mine,” He grunted in time with each harsh thrust, “And. Mine. Alone.” He could barely catch his breath at this point, “Do you hear me?”

Eleanor could not speak for moaning out his name repeatedly with the mixture of everything that was happening, so instead offered him a shaky nod. Not that Severus saw her response with his head tilted back and his eyes still closed tightly. The table squeaked upon its legs from the forceful, consistent back and forth movements and banged against the wall. Severus felt himself slipping further and further into the raw feeling of the skin-on-skin contact and tensed his jaw every time his hips thrust all the way forward. Countless profanities left his mouth as his head made several attempts to rise again, his sweaty hair now becoming a part of his sticky forehead.

“M…mine…” He grunted, his sweaty palm now slipping down the wall. He removed it so both of his hands now clamped onto her waist as her legs squeezed around him, “Mine, mine, mine,” Each word was emphasised with a harsh slam of his hips and causing Eleanor to let out a loud squeal in the process.

“Fuck, yes, Severus,” She moaned, digging her heels harder into his bottom to urge him not to stop or slow down, “Y—Yours, Sev. Yours.”

“Good girl.” He growled against her lips, her face now in his hands as they reignited their previous clumsy kisses, “Sh-Shit…” He gasped loudly against her lips as the familiar flames in the pit of his stomach began to lick their way further up his body, trying to grasp her lip between his teeth each time their lips collided, “I’m going to cum, Princess… I—I’m going to fucking c-!”

“Mm, you certainly don't fuck me like a Princess.” She grinned against his lips, giggling for a moment before realising how close he actually was to his climax when she felt him desperately bucking his hips against hers.

“A-Ah, fuck!” He hissed through clenched teeth, his hands trembling against her face as he felt himself crumbling in pleasure, “Oh, oh! I'm cu…!” His moans were even louder than ever now, his thumbs shakily caressing her cheekbones as he tried his best to hold her face in place as his orgasm exploded with each twitch of his cock, “Ah, fuck, Eleanor!” He cried out breathlessly, feeling as if he had entered another dimension with the amount of pleasure coursing through him.

Eleanor’s own climax was already on the edge, her entire body becoming jittery each time he pushed her closer to it, but the reaction Severus gave to getting off inside her with no barriers whatsoever was all she needed to hit her peak of pleasure. Her arms flung themselves around his neck and legs tightened around his waist as she became completely undone at the mercy of his bare, relentless cock.

“S-Sev-!” She struggled for breath, repeatedly contracting around him with each pulse of his thrusting length, “Severus! Fuck…” Her fingers trembled in his hair as her body continuously switched from tensing up and turning to jelly.

Severus’ moans proceeded to rattle against the walls as his eyes rolled back in pleasure, his hands now back against her thighs and shakily massaging his fingertips against her skin. Their bodies continued to convulse in pure bliss, their clothing now sticking to their bodies with sweat as their hot breath fogged up the chamber with their heavy breathing.

Even after their movements had slowed, Severus found it practically impossible to speak for a few long moments, but when he did, he just said, “Fucking hell, that was amazing…”

“I’m surprised we didn't end up next door…” Eleanor giggled breathily, placing her hands upon his heaving chest.

“One does not take the opportunity to have you completely naturally for granted.” He whispered, cupping her cheek in his hand and gazing down into her eyes as he bit his lip.

“Mm…” Eleanor grinned, kissing him softly, “I never want to be fucked in any other way again, professor.”

“Stop talking like that,” He spoke playfully sharply against her lips, “Or it’ll never go down.”

“Don’t tempt me to keep going,” She looked up at him with a wink, “You and I both know that we always tend to have the best sex when one of us has somehow pissed the other one off.”

“No comment.” Severus spoke slowly, his facial expression straining to remain straight. He knew she was right.

“Making you jealous gets you all riled up,” She squeezed his shoulders, “Making you jealous does turn you on, Severus…” She raised her eyebrows, “Why do you think I spend all night with any man who isn't you and then turn up in your chamber without any underwear on? Why do you think I enjoy making you jealous so much, hm?”

“Why do you think I let you?” Severus replied instantly in a very matter-of-fact tone.

“Because I know you’ll fuck me into next week.” Eleanor replied just as fast, biting her lip harshly to try and suppress the wide grin that was threatening to show.

“Or next door, apparently.” Severus chuckled, brushing her hair out of her face as their eyes met again.

“I think this has to be our best worst habit.” Eleanor laughed along with him.

“I happen to agree with that statement.” Severus crinkled his nose, tilting her chin up with his index finger.

“What’s that?” Eleanor gasped playfully, “We actually agree on something?”

“Watch your lip, sweetheart…” Severus’ voice lowered, his eyes narrowing.

“I bet you’d like to watch my lip… my… lips…” Eleanor dared herself to say, though she only spoke in a timid tone.

“You really are insufferable…” He shook his head, eyes still on hers, “That attitude of yours will get you into trouble, you know.”

“Admit it, Severus,” She smirked, “I’m the kind of trouble that you enjoy.”

“Ha.” He rolled his eyes sarcastically, letting go of her and starting tuck himself back into his trousers.

“Oh, no, no,” She shook her head and pursed her lips, reaching down to push his hands away from his crotch. Severus’ gaze met hers again, his lips parting from her insinuation and a heavy breath leaving them as his jaw clenched from her following words spoken with a devilish grin, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

---

Tags! ♥️

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[shynetyme06]

Epic and cool Papered Jam reference be upon ye (og PJ by @7goodangel)

YA so this is that PJ variant I’ve posted a couple times and made that dtiys for, and yes the mc just stands for main character. I’ve called them mc pj as a placeholder for the longest time cuz I’m slow with names, and so it just ended up sticking for me even after the story was later dubbed PJ’s resolve ;3

Under the cut is an alt ref sheet with updated versions of my other PJ outfits from this post, plus some rambling about the designs lol

Like og PJ, the only non-ink garment she wears is the scarf gifted to her by Ink. But for mc pj, that wasn’t always the case. The outfit you see on the little PJ was also created by him, and they’re hydrophobic clothes meant to help maintain PJ’s form and keep the strings from being exposed. And for the rain boots, I really liked a headcanon I came across that little kid PJ could wear them to keep ink from tracking everywhere (they just gotta be emptied from time to time lol)

Years later, PJ would start to create clothes for herself that look and feel pretty close to what Ink could do, but that’s only as long as she’s in contact with them, because like with pretty much all of her creations, they’ll melt back into ink if left alone for too long. (And for the shedding, rather than tracking ink everywhere she goes she usually just throws away the shoes she wears after a while and then remakes them with newer ink)

The blotch change on the right side of his face is because of error’s tear tracks, I kinda wanted this PJ to take a little bit more after him forrr reasons (would’ve been more obvious if it stayed fully cyan but I colored it before remembering there’s already so much cyan in top half of the design… so now there’s a yellow outline like the pink splotch)

And lastly PJ is about ink’s height at 3’9 :D

[maestro04yayyy]

Slight spin on the exchange that started it all, but like.

Juleka was still not entirely sure how she got here. A ballroom in Chloe's hotel to be specific. Or how she found herself in this situation. Dancing with Chloe who was all too happy to be up close and... intimate.

That's a lie.

Juleka knew how she got here, she just wasn't entirely sure why, or if it was a good idea.

"Closer now, my precious jewel," Choe murmured and Juleka instinctively pulled the blonde closer. Chloe brushing pouty lips along her collar bone as they slowly span.

"You're so naturally regal, it would take most much longer to get this far."

"You're a good teacher," Juleka murmured into those golden locks, and she could feel Chloe vibrate a little with excitement.

"That just means we're both exceptional dear- and spin."

Juleka loosened her grip and let Chloe spin out, only hold on by the thinnest of margins before pulling the smaller girl in, resting Chloe's back against her chest.

Chloe, as she was want to do, pressed herself ever closer and started to-

Juleka swallowed and hastily pulled Chloe into a twirl, before resetting their position.

"Sorry," Juleka mumbled, hair falling over her face and obscuring sight of that pout.

Chloe wasn't having it though and brushed her hair back over her ears, nails tracing along her skin.

"You know I don't mind, so what's the problem?"

"My body is one thing, my time another," Juleka rambled slowly, trying to piece disparate thoughts and half formed speeches together as they swayed.

"But I can't be unfair to you, I... I can't when I still feel the way I do about Rose."

To her surprise Chloe just tsked, "Oh is that all, don't fret, I'm not the possessive type and besides, I already know I'll win one day~"

Juleka almost stopped but the last month or so association with Chloe had shown her the girl had a... Unique way of communicating and seeking understanding was best done before reacting.

"You're trying to beat her then?"

Chloe chuckled. "I'm copeting for your attention, darling and it isn't a sprint but a marathon." Chloe kept their pace steady even as their steps grw moree complex. "I've labored a lifetime and longer for less than you've given me in a month."

Again with those words, that recurring idea of love given but never reciprocated that left Juleka holding CHloe a little tighter, more possessively, just as she liked it.

"Be ready to dip," Chloe whispered, tone briefly sliding back to proffesional before the flirtacious huskiness returned as Juleka used her taller frame to dip Chloe low.

"I know eventually, you will choose me, until then, I can be patient and playful~"

The blonde arched her back and coiled a leg around Juleka to keep them intimate, while her gaze drifted as she exposed her neck.

Normally Juleka would like the sight, but right now, those sapphire eyes that screamed so intensely weren't on her and she did not like that.

"Head up," Juleka ordered in Chloe's instructor tone.

Well taught, or perhaps trained, Chloe's head shot up and Juleka pulled her in closer, much closer than she usually allowed.

"I can't give you what you're asking for, yet, but I can tell you something."

Juleka said her hand up Chloe's back and ran teasing nails along the back of her neck before cradling her head and forcing the blonde to look her in the eyes.

"I like it when you look at me, and I hate when you look away."

Cloe's tongue traced along her lips, the ballerina gripped Juleka's shoulders and lifted herself up, both legs coiling around her like a python.

Their eyes never lost contract.

"Then I won't be looking anywhere else, will I?"

Chloe hadn't quite closed the distance for a kiss, but that was fine.

Because Juleka did.

God that's amazing!!!!!! And i love everything abouit it!!!!

ALSO THEY ARE DANCING!!!!! AWESOME!!!! and yeah chloe is very phisical and love touch(she is touch starved after all, at least in my head), so she of course get very intimate(also she find it fun!!!!!)

And yep juleka is good!!! and chloe is here to make her understand it!!! Also yayy love is a marathon, and I love juleka getting all protective and sad seeing chloe talk about how her love usually get treated, and I think juleka will eventually realize how good chloe is at following orders and how she never do something juleka directly said she doesn't like or want, and probably get concerned (she had a clear exemple of a relationship like that with chloe and Sabrina and it's not very good).

Alsp yep chloe is staring!!!!!!!

And they kissed!!!!!!!!!! Perfect!!!!

[silverstonesainz]

“ taking advantage of the fact that they're walking through a crowded place and holding their hand so that they "don't get lost"

for the frat au with jack :)

just in case, just because

hand holding & first kisses frat!jack x reader 1.2k words warnings: n/a

d rambles. . . again, took way to long n this was kinda lame. but i hope u liked it. thanks for requesting lovely!!

“i dunno…” you look back over at the house, the never ending flow of people walking in and out. it was packed— filled to the absolute brim with drunk college students and it didn’t quite look like your scene. 

“this can’t be new to you,” your roommate looks over at you in disbelief, already starting to take slow steps to the front of the frat house. 

it wasn’t. you had your fair share of parties, attended the best and the worst of them during your brief stint in college. but there was something different— something more intimidating about the double doors of the house. it was just different. 

but you would never admit that, not even to your roommate who knows you a little better than most. 

a girl manages to squeeze past the people pushing into the house, a sheen of sweat over her skin and her mascara smudged under her eyes. she looked worse for wear, but she wears an almost euphoric smile as she looked back into the house. 

“look at her,” you mumble to your friend, “the house just spit her up like that. it must be hell in there.” 

“oh stop looking for excuses, you’ve come home looking worse.” 

you roll your eyes, half amused. she isn’t exactly wrong. your roommate loops her arm through yours, laughing as she tugs you into the house. she’s a force, thank god, pushing through sturdy fraternity men and drunk girls, leading the two of you all the way to the bar. the air is thick, humid, you can already feel the sweat begin to form on your back. 

one poorly mixed drink and another push to the dance floor later, you were thoroughly soaked. you couldn’t enjoy the music, couldn’t enjoy the alcohol, couldn’t enjoy a damn thing. you leaned into your roommate, let her know you’d be back and that you needed a bit of air. she didn’t hear, and you took her lack of a response as an okay to go. 

you push past the heavy crowd, mumbling unheard sorries and ignored excuse-me’s. it felt like miles before you hit the clearing, before a rush of semi-cool air hits you in the face and puts your fiery skin at ease. you huff a breath of a relief, fanning yourself with your hand as you move deeper in the house. 

the kitchen is still full, but not nearly as bad as the dance floor. you make it back to the bar, smiling over at yuki as you yell for another drink over the music. 

and then you see him, snapback sitting backward on top of his head, laughing at his fraternity brother’s probable misfortune. his cheeks are rosy, an effect of the alcohol. he’s tipsy, happy, and completely unaware of the way you gawk at him. 

but he does turn his head eventually, catches you staring and makes you blush. he excuses himself from the conversation, squeezes past party-goers to get all the way over to you. and that’s when the air shifts— thick and filled with nerves. he’s what makes the difference. 

“hey sugar,” jack grins, slinging his arm over you. 

“hi jack.” 

he leans down, presses a wet kiss against your cheek, laughs when he sees the grimace on your face. you grumble complaints, none of which he can hear as he looks around the room. jack pulls you into his side, body heat radiating off him like it always done. and what is usually something comforting is now annoying. you feel yourself begin to overheat, irritation rising with your discomfort. you pull away from him, shrug off his hold as you take a step back. he pouts down at you, but the expression falls as soon as it comes. 

“what’s wrong?” 

“it’s so hot in here,” you yell, fanning yourself with your hand. 

the boy adjusts his hat on his head, revealing the beads of sweat that line where the brim of his hat lay. he looks around the room, “wanna go take a walk? cool off a bit?”

you nod. just about anything sounds better than being in that house at that point. anything. 

“lead the way.” jack holds his palm out, gestures you to step ahead of him. you don’t question why he doesn’t lead the way instead, considering his taller built. you allow your irritation lead the two of you through the heavy crowd, but it only takes you so far. even with jack’s hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you through, it only takes you so far. 

a couple blocks your way. and to the left another pairing and to the right very drunk sorority women who lack the concept of personal space. you were stuck, trapped in the center of the humid mosh pit of the frat house. you turn your head, pouting up at jack like a silent plea. 

you see the way he smiles knowingly, reads your expression with no trouble. he slides ahead of you, fingers intertwining with yours without a thought. you can feel you heart speed up, breath hitched in your throat. suddenly the hot air didn’t bother you as much, the sweat sliding down your back wasn’t as uncomfortable, and the lack of personal space as jack leads you through the crowd really wasn’t all that bad. 

jack squeezes past people with ease, pulls you along with him. with jack in the lead, it isn’t long until he’s yanked you out the door and into the cold air. you sigh in relief, head thrown back as you accept the cold fall air to kiss your skin. you hear jack chuckle, and you look up to catch his boyish smile as he watches your repose. his fingers are still interlocked with yours, curved so that you don’t slip away from him so easily. he lets you walk as far as both your hands would allow, before he’s pulling you back to him. you bump into his chest, hair over your face from the wind. he smiles, uses his friend to push the stray hairs to get a clearer view of you. 

“you look happy.” he comments. 

“i am,” you mumble, squeezing his hand. “you’re holding my hand.” 

he chuckles, squeezing your hand back, “i am. didn’t wanna lose you.” 

“and what’s your excuse now?” you tease, standing on your tip toes so that your noses brush. 

“just in case,” he mumbles, leaning forward ever so slightly. 

your heart speeds up as you catch his gaze fall from your eyes to your lips for split second. you catch a glimpse of his smile, feel it ghost over you lips before he presses into you. his lips are warm, taste like cherry and vodka. soft, sensual, jack kisses you like he has all the time of in the world. his kiss dims the world around you, renders the cold ineffective as his touch heats your skin. 

but he pulls away before you get too hot, panting softly as his eyes search yours for a bit of emotion. maybe regret, or discomfort— anything that might tell him that he just made a big mistake. but instead he sees your shy smile, you flushed cheeks as he leans in to press one more peck against your lips.  

“and what was that for?” you ask, nose still brushing against his. 

jack smiles, shrugs. “just because.” 

[66sharkteeth]

people seemed interested in the little nine lives bio i posted last night, so now i'm doing finze! who i'm realizing i don't have any finished art of (in this form) that doesn't include nine. disclaimer that this has nothing to do with the Finze we know from City of Blank beyond name, personality, and some kind of "canon events" that are shared among all versions of Finze.

-Half-angel, and yes, I'm aware that's a Nephilim, but he doesn't like to call himself that because of what usually comes to mind with that word. That said, this is not his only form.

-He was a prophesized child that was supposed to be born from an angel and a virgin. This child was supposed to beckon in the rapture and lead humanity to heaven in the rapture. However, once he was old enough to start understanding his destiny, he simply decided that he didn't want to do that.

-This is when they started to realize something went wrong. Turns out his mother was very much not a virgin, which sort of messed up the whole prophecy and now they just have this guy who is sort of half-way what the prophecy called for. So anyway, the rapture is postponed and now Finze just works (reluctantly) for the church/angels.

-Part of his powers is his "all seeing eye" that is under his eyepatch. He will gain the knowledge of anyone he looks into with that eye. The church has used this power on 10+ of the world's smartest individuals, making finze incredibly smart, but the downside is he now has 10+ individuals crammed in his head. His healing abilities are basically the only thing stopping him from going brain dead but he is in constant pain because of it.

-He is just as nasty and mean as he is in CoB, if not more so. He lives a very lavish lifestyle, provided by the church, and is incredibly out of touch with with the rest of the world despite his vast knowledge. So basically, quite literally the smartest person on earth, but socially, one of the worst.

-Despite being literally half-angel and knowing other angels, he is an adamant (and obnoxious) atheist. he thinks they're aliens or something.

-Struggles greatly with OCD. Hates being touched and struggles with emotions other than anger and annoyance. Hates trying new things or going outside his comfort zone. Has constant energy of nervous dog that is about to bite you.

-incredibly vapid and obsessed with his appearance. you know the scene of Howl melting because his hair was the wrong color? yeah, he's like that if he ever gets something like a zit.

-the only thing in life he loves more than (eventually) nine is his car. he is very much a car guy. He also unfortunately shouldn't be allowed on the road. You know those jack asses that zoom down the highway at 100 MPH, weaving in and out of traffic? That is Finze. Also just parks wherever he wants, as long as it's not a towaway zone. No parking before 8 PM? No, just more expensive parking before 8 PM.

hmmm. there's a lot more but this is getting really long. his was a lot harder to do than nine's because i feel like a lot of lore needs to be explained in order to elaborate on a lot of things about him. i didn't even get into how he ends up as a tutor at nine's school and that's how they meet. i wanna ramble about him and nine more but not in a way that scares people off w/ any walls of text longer than this!!

[goodolddumbbanana]

Be a mirror Au [1]

An Au when Sun is dead (by Nexus), Dark Sun pretends to be Sun while trying to find some way to revive him in secret. Nexus is having a mental breakdown, maybe get some redemption later. Everyone is not having a good time except Sun, that poor boy only when he is dead (temporarily) can get some rest.

In this Au, Dark Sun would get more involved in Sun's life.

Maybe He has some hidden plans for Sun. Maybe he just wants to see Sun suffer. Maybe he wants to see how long that kindness in Sun remains.

Anyways...

He can be the devil on Sun's shoulder, trying to make Sun do evil things to save his loved one and stop Nexus's madness.

I mean, it will not be as horrible as it sounds. MF just sometimes hops in Sun's dimension and says some nonsense crap to Sun like:"You and brother should do this..." "You and brother should do that... Or else there would be some horrible outcome that might affect your family".

And it's a lot and a lot of ramblings to the point Sun tired with Dark Sun's craps and starts to sass back.

(Moon may or may not know about their interactions but he can't do much because Dark Sun is more careful and cunning about it. Just like with Eclipse v1, Moon couldn't do anything to stop Eclipse fuck with Sun's life. Wonder if it will do any damage to Moon's ego and drive this version into madness again or not.)

Anyways, move past that, Sun and Dark Sun will form some strange kind of friendship the more time they spend with each other, the friendship only happens with your enemy when you are drunk and doesn't even care what would happen to your life at this point.

Because God forbid Sun to have an "enemies to friends" trope with anyone but Moon.

Sun gets used to Dark Sun because Dark Sun only talks and observes around Sun, and his words are usually just some creepy advice or sass about Moon in general. Dark Sun doesn't even downgrade Sun or mock Sun about how idiot and failure Sun is. And Sun knows he is not that important to Dark Sun's plans, (his low self esteem is talking) and he doesn't understand half of the words Dark Sun said all the time.

And with Dark Sun, even though he hates himself and how lack of a backbone he used to be, he finds Sun's kindness and resilient kind of endearing. He wants to ruin Sun's life, but also he wants to see how far this pessimistic hopefulness exists. Also, he is kinda jealous about Sun, about the life he could have of his Moon didn't be such a piece of shit.

Moving on, Nexus goes crazy and Sun wants to save him because even after all that crap Nexus pulled, he is still one of Sun's brothers.

(Nexus in the future Au, gets even worse than he is currently in canon. He studies the Wither Storm and may be tempted with it to take revenge on Moon. He even hurt Lunar, very badly, and doing something he would never forgive himself.)

He kills Sun. Dark Sun, as usual, even though he has formed some kind of friendship with Sun, still just be an audience for this tragedy show. He doesn't do anything, he just watches, just observes in silence the moment when Nexus in his craziness, accidentally kills Sun - the only one by now still actively trying to save him.)

Because there is no way in hell Moon just went crazy on purpose. There is someone who makes it happen, and Dark Sun is the only one who takes advantage of this situation. Sun knows they still have a badder guy to stop.

Anyways, while Nexus is having a mental breakdown because he killed the only person who still cares about him, Dark Sun appears to inform Nexus to leave because he is seemingly unable to continue functioning.

After that, Dark Sun walks in front of Sun's face and notices that Sun is still half alive.

They will have a conversation which leads to Dark Sun asking Sun if he regrets trying to save people who don't want it. And Sun would say he doesn't, because Nexus is his brother and always will be his brother. And he always regrets that because he was so afraid, he didn't confront Nexus sooner, to notify what was wrong with him. (And Moon, idk, maybe running like a headless goose, because Dark Sun wants this confrontation to happen to see if Sun kills Nexus or Nexus kills Sun.)

Nexus killed Sun, but it isn't as satisfying as Dark Sun thinks it would be. His already conflicted heart would feel something, and he may sit with Sun in his last moments, like some ways to comfort the person may be his friend in another life.

And then Sun,the only person sometimes who can do the most damage only by talking, asks Dark Sun a favor.

He pleaded and insisted on Dark Sun, he asked Dark Sun to pretend to be him, because they have bigger threats to stop, and if right now Sun dies, Moon will break down and fall into madness. He doesn't want what happened with one brother to be with another brother.

And he believes deep down inside, Dark Sun can be more helpful and be more of a good brother than him.

And Dark Sun, in the moment of weakness, says yes.

(He says yes because deep down, he wants a brother? He wants a family? He says yes because he feels pity for Sun, because he can't say no with the person who is wearing his face, the one who has shared very much a similar past but still grown out to be a better person than him? Or just because Sun's dying truly would slow down every one of his plans? He doesn't know and he doesn't have enough time to think.)

[charliedawn]

ST LOUIS SEASON 2

PART 1

The MEETING:

Finally.

It was done.

The letters had been sent to the left wing staff. You hoped at least half of the answers would be positive—if you even received any. You enthusiastically waited for the left wing's answer that had always sent an apology for all of your previous requests for meeting. But this time, you had referred to it with the headboard and they had agreed it was best for the two wings met.

So, you were impatiently refreshing your front page to get your hopes up that you wouldn't receive yet another apology email. But then, you were greeted with an email from your left-wing counterpart, and one that didn't start with 'Unfortunately..'.

We will be there.

Signed, Elena Michaelis.

It was a little short. But, they had at least accepted to come, which was a rather remarkable success considering all of your previous answers. You smiled to yourself and wondered how many staff members you would meet. You had told the staff that they could bring some of the patients to enjoy the festivities with you, but so far no answer other than the earlier one.

You told the slashers, expecting them to be happy. And, some were. But, you didn't expect Jack's reaction as he bolted out of his seat at the news and started shaking uncontrollably.

"No..Nonononono. Tell me it's a joke. Tell me they aren't actually coming here."

You knew Jack used to belong to the left-wing and upon arrival, his condition was less than appropriate. He was malnourished and his whole demeanor seemed off. It took weeks to get a reaction out of the slasher. But, you thought it had been the same with both wings before your arrival. And after a few months, he did start eating and indulged himself in some of the few bottles Five put at disposal for the slashers and the staff…He then started smiling and laughing again, which was very encouraging, but the simple mention of the left-wing had him in such a state, you worried.

You tried to reach for him and reassure him, but he refused. He shook your hand off and slowly stepped back, his eyes wide open in obvious disbelief. It was uncanny, him who usually looked so unbothered by everything, was now shaking in fear. It was unusual to see Jack in such a state of panic. You tried to approach him, to offer some form of comfort or reassurance, but he rejected your attempts in an almost primal display of fear.

"Jack, calm down. Everything is going to be alright. They're just coming for a friendly visit. There is no need to worry."

He shook his head and you could see that he was still shaking.

"There’s NOTHING friendly about them. Nothing." He said and he shook his head as he kept stepping back. "No. I won't go back to that hell hole. I won't. I can't..."

He started rambling in a panic.

You frowned and tried to reach for Jack once more, who immediately retreated from your touch and grabbed your arm harshly to yank you against him. There was nothing but pure terror in his eyes as he shouted.

"I WON'T !"

All of the other slashers who had witnessed the strange reaction of Jack were now tense as they saw how he was manhandling you. Your heart sank as you saw the fear in Jack's eyes and heard the desperation in his voice. You could feel the weight of his panic bearing down on you, making it hard to breathe. You tried to reassure him again, but he was beyond reasoning. He continued to shake his head and mutter to himself, unable to calm down.

The slashers around you were growing more and more restless, their muscles tense. None of them had ever seen Jack like this before.

"Easy, Jack..I'm sure it is just a misunderstanding.", you tried to soothe him, but he wouldn't budge and his grip on you only tightened.

"They aren't nice. I can promise you that. I wasn't living the good life with them, that's for damn sure…They're not like you. Heck, I don't think they're even doctors..", he wanted to add something—but his eyes widened as he felt a needle in his arm. He turned around to find Eva there with a small apologetic smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, but you have to keep your distance. We can't have you injure our head nurse.."

He suddenly fell to the ground and you sighed deeply in relief. You knew the left-wing was a lot harsher with it patients, but you had no clue just how much until you'd seen Jack's reaction. After the chaos settled down, you were left with a lingering sense of unease. Jack's behavior had been so unlike him, and yet so completely expected given the circumstances. The thought of what he must have gone through under the care of the left-wing sent shivers down your spine. As you watched over Jack who was now unconscious and recovering from the tranquilizer, you couldn't help but wonder what you had gotten yourself into. It was clear that the meeting with the left-wing would not be a simple social visit.

You looked up at the other patients who seemed as shocked as you and even the Penny Brothers seemed confused.

"He was...terrified.", Penny uttered in a whisper, but his eyes were a dark yellow and he seemed disgusted by the smell than enticed by it. Pennywise then added to explain his brother's disgusted expression.

"Slashers' fear is very different from normal fear. Since they basically thrive in it, they usually never fear anything or anyone...But, he was really and utterly terrified."

You looked back sadly at Jack's sleeping form and gestured for some of the nurses to take care of him. You also asked them to bring him to his room for now and make sure to keep him calm until the meeting was over.

One thing was for sure—you would have to have a serious conversation with the left-wing.

As you watched Jack being taken away by the nurses, you couldn't help but reflect on what the Penny Brothers had just said. It seemed clear that the left-wing had done something to Jack that had traumatised him beyond what anyone should have to experience. You took a deep breath and steeled your nerves. The upcoming meeting wasn't going to be an easy one, but you were determined to get to the heart of the matter. One way or another, you would find out what had happened to Jack and ensure that it never happened again.

That evening:

Finally, no patient was allowed into the room for safety reasons. But, you had Victor to introduce you to the staff members you didn't know. And he didn't lack colorful words to describe them.

"Here comes bitch number 1. Wolfe Schulz. Or, otherwise known as Cerberus. Doggy of the gang who would do anything to satisfy his dark masters. He may sound nice, but will take every opportunity to bring you down."

You remembered him. You had seen him multiple times before with James. He was the head of security of the left wing. Some called him ruthless. He was personally training the guards and you knew that he was not one to be messed with. Victor then moved on to the other gentleman sitting a few feet away, his eyes scanning the crowd with careful attention. You instantly recognised Dr. DesVosges as he seemed to assess the room and the people present with uncanny calmness.

"Bitch number 2. Alexander DesVosges. Big arrogant a**. He beat me in the medical academy in every single subject we used to attend together. He also took the job I wanted. No need to say, him and I do not appreciate each other." Victor's words rang in your ears as you surveyed the room. Dr. DesVosges seemed to exude an air of superiority, and his demeanor made you feel uncomfortable. You knew that he and Victor shared a difficult past, and you wondered if their grievances would affect your attempts to collaborate.

You nodded understandingly before your eyes caught a red-headed woman who was settled next to the bowl of fruits. As far as you knew, only one woman had been accepted in the left wing. The woman who had sent you a message agreeing to the meeting. Victor followed your gaze and let out a snort.

"Good eye. I present to you sexy bitch number 3. Elena Michaelis. Cold and hard as steel. She was recruited fresh out of her medical school and has been a favorite of the headboard since then. She came up with the idea of the chip in the patients’ heads."

You shivered. The chips…An idea that the head board had agreed to after the loss of so many soldiers and members of staff. The chips were implanted in the patients’ brains and the staff whenever feel threatened, could push a button and fry their brain to the point where they were rendered almost vegetative. Slashers couldn’t be killed, but they could be brain fried over and over to the point where their own mind was but mush in their head. You had of course voted against the idea…but the head board had had no choice but to accept to lower casualties.

As Victor described the woman sitting next to the bowl of fruits, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping up on you. She had a cold and hard demeanour, and her connection to the idea of the brain chips made you feel as if you were in the presence of a very dangerous individual—one not to take lightly.

You had heard rumours about the chips, but now hearing the truth from someone who seemed to have a personal grudge against her made your trepidation grow even stronger. You couldn't help but wonder what other sinister things she might have had a hand in creating.

You plastered a smile on your face and before Victor could escape, you wrapped an arm around him and led him towards the third member of the team. Elena Michaelis had at least replied to your message and if you were to convince her of the unnecessary use of the chips, you could maybe get one of them on your side.

"Wait a minute..What are you doing ?" Victor tried to retrieve his arm, but it was no use. "Let go of me this instant. I don't want to see them. Go and say hi yourself. I don’t do well at socialising !" But he was still forced to come with you as you greeted the only person you hadn’t met yet.

"Mrs. Michaelis ?" You asked and she turned her head towards the both of you as she brought another blackberry to her lips.

"Yes ?" She replied with a polite smile.

Elena Michaelis was as stoic as her name implied. She remained calm and collected, even as Victor tried his best to tear his arm from your grasp. Her soft smile never once left her face though, the expression not reaching her eyes. As you approached her, she took another blackberry and popped it in her mouth.

"Good evening," she greeted politely in response to your welcoming. She seemed to be taking a more laid-back approach than the rest of the staff. As you approached Elena Michaelis and began speaking with her, you noticed her polite demeanor and calmness. However, there was something about her smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, as if it were just a mask hiding her true feelings. You tried your best to maintain a friendly demeanor, despite the tension that seemed to emanate from the red-headed woman. Her casual manners made you feel somewhat at ease, but you couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath her pleasant façade.

"I am so happy you decided to come. My name is Y/N. We emailed to organise this party. We may now talk—nurse to nurse."

She eyed you both and hummed.

"Likewise," Elena said as she returned the smile, her polite demeanour never once wavering throughout the conversation. It was no secret just how intimidating certain members of the left wing staff could be, but so far, Elena was proving to be the exception to the rule.

You sat down in front of her and almost forced Victor to sit down next to you. He took a glass of champagne and did his best not to make eye contact with Elena.

Whereas you smiled and started talking—hoping to find an understanding.

"I have heard that you have just arrived to St Louis Asylum. How do you feel so far ?"

Elena's eyes never left your own throughout the conversation, her expression maintaining the same calm, polite demeanor.

"I find the facility quite fascinating, actually," she replied, her tone polite and formal. "The work being done here is truly groundbreaking in the field of medicine and psychiatry. I have always had a special interest in the study of the mind and its complexities, so being given the opportunity to work at this hospital has certainly been…challenging, but in the best possible sense."

You smiled and nodded.

"I agree. And the patients are interesting in the best way possible."

"Absolutely," Elena agreed with a nod. "Each patient presents with different challenges and issues, but it's an exciting opportunity to gain further understanding and knowledge into the mind, and to develop more effective treatment plans for each individual."

She seemed genuinely passionate about her work, and seemed to have no qualms about the controversial nature of some of the methods the hospital used.

You smiled as you thought that you had maybe found a likeminded soul within the left wing.

"Right ? The slashers are amazing and they have come such a long way. I have been monitoring their progress for months and they are just…incredible."

"Incredible is definitely one way to describe them," Elena agreed with a slight chuckle. "We're working with some truly exceptional individuals here. To see how far they've come is nothing short of inspirational."

She seemed to share the same fondness for the patients as you did. You nodded and your smile widened.

"I agree wholeheartedly."

As you engaged in a conversation with Elena, you couldn't help but notice the way her eyes lit up when discussing the patients at St. Louis Asylum. It was clear that she was just as passionate about her work as you were. You felt a sense of kinship in finding a fellow medical professional who shared your enthusiasm and dedication. Her words only confirmed your feeling that you had just found common ground with the red-headed nurse, and your smile widened in response.

Elena smiled in return, seeming to genuinely enjoy the conversation. Her mannerisms were still polite, still friendly, but her expression seemed to have opened up just slightly.

"Do you have a particular favourite among them, if you don't mind me asking ?" She said, curiosity evident in her tone.

"Me ?" You thought about it before shaking your head. "No. The slashers are like a…big family. I have come to appreciate them all in their own way."

Elena arched an eyebrow at you.

"A family ? Interesting choice of words…"

"A family," you nodded, finding a certain comfort in the idea of thinking of everyone as part of a big unit. Elena raised an eyebrow in curiousity as she considered the choice of words you had used.

"Interesting," she said, the polite expression on her face suddenly taking on a more analytical, thoughtful expression. "You used the word 'family,' but you did not specify the type," she pointed out, before taking a sip from her champagne glass. "Care to elaborate ?"

You took a deep breath as you mulled over her question. The word "family" had slipped from your lips so easily, but now that you thought about it more closely, you realized how truly apt it really was. The slashers were a family - a dysfunctional one, to be sure, but still a family all the same. Each one of them had their own unique strengths and weaknesses, and yet they worked together towards a common goal. They had accepted each other, quirks and all, and had formed a bond that was stronger than anything you had seen before.

"Well," you replied, feeling a sudden spike of tension as your suspicions were confirmed.

Elena was not just polite. Elena was shrewd, and she was intelligent. She was paying close attention to your choice of words, and she was analyzing the information you had given her. Her gaze was still soft and polite, but there was something predatory under the surface, and you suddenly felt a chill run through your veins.

"I meant nothing by it," you said slowly, trying to be as careful as possible with your words.

Elena chuckled before leaning forward.

"No no. Please. We are all…friends here after all. We are all medical staff taking care of our patients. But…the way you described it. That word. 'Family'. It is interesting…"

"It was merely a figure of speech," you said quickly, feeling your heart starting to race slightly as Elena continued to probe, her smile remaining polite and friendly as she studied you. "I simply meant that I consider all the patients at the hospital 'one big family."'

Elena continued to study you for a moment, her expression stoic and expressionless, before nodding slowly.

"I see."

You felt a sudden sense of unease as Elena continued to probe further into your choice of words. Her demeanor and mannerisms were still polite and friendly, but her sharp mind was evident in how she dissected every aspect of your answers. You tried to play it off as a figure of speech, but the way she continued to study you made you feel as if she was sizing you up. You couldn't help but wonder what her intentions behind her seemingly polite questioning were.

You suddenly felt very awkward as her eyes were fixed on you and you felt as if she could read your thoughts…You suddenly felt a lot less comfortable and looked at Victor who was looking at his glass of champagne as if it was the most interesting thing in the room.

Feeling your heartbeat quicken, you turned to look at Victor, who took another sip from his champagne glass, oblivious as he tried his best to ignore the conversation.

Elena's gaze never once left yours as she continued to study you, silent and stoic, her eyebrows raised as she waited for your response.

"I meant…" You gulped.

Why was she making you so nervous ?

"…I meant that the slashers in the right wing have learnt to live with each other. Friendships formed. Bonds. They are a lot less violent than they used to be…"

"Friendships," she echoed, taking another sip of her champagne. "Bonds. A family..."

You felt a knot form in your stomach as Elena repeated the words "friendships" and "bonds," and the realization that she was carefully analyzing your words made you more nervous than ever. You glanced at Victor, hoping for some support, but he was still staring intently at his champagne glass as if it held the key to the universe.

You cleared your throat nervously and tried to compose yourself, knowing that every word you said was being carefully scrutinized by the sharp eyes of the red-headed woman. Elena paused for a moment, her expression still friendly and polite, but her words carried an undercurrent of suspicion. The tone of her voice had changed abruptly, and her eyes were no longer soft but rather sharp as they continued to bore into yours.

"You sound rather...invested."

You smiled.

"Of course. I AM the head nurse of the right wing after all." You tried to sound confident and at ease as you responded to her observation, but couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she saw right through your attempts to hide the truth. Her sudden shift in demeanour and the suspicious undercurrent in her words made you feel vulnerable. You tried to brush off her words with a casual remark about being the head nurse of the right wing, but you couldn't help but feel as if she had already figured out your true feelings.

"Right..." she said slowly, taking another sip from her champagne, her gaze never leaving yours. She seemed to be studying you for a moment, before taking a long, thoughtful pause.

"How often do you spend time with them ?" she finally asked, her tone still polite but carrying a hint of suspicion.

"…I…Hum…Well. Every day. They ARE my patients after all. And ensuring their comfort and safety is of my responsibility."

Elena hummed in response and you were quick to add.

"Our responsibility here—at St Louis—is first and foremost to cure them, isn’t it ?"

"Of course," Elena agreed, her tone still polite as she continued to study you intently. "Curing them is our number one priority. Their comfort and safety is a close second," she said, taking another sip of champagne before pausing for a moment.

"But," she continued, "you do seem to be taking a particular interest in the patients' social lives. Their 'bonds' and 'friendships.' May I ask why ?"

You felt the tension in the air thicken as Elena continued to probe deeper into your involvement with the patients at the asylum. Her polite tone and calm demeanour were just a thinly veiled facade for the shrewd and calculating mind behind it all. You tried to answer her question as best as you could, attempting to deflect her queries by shifting the focus onto your responsibilities and the overall objectives of the facility. However, her astute observations and perceptive nature made it clear that she wasn’t buying your excuses.

"I have come to realise that the slashers seemed to be a lot more aggressive and terrifying when alone. They act as frightened creatures once alone and their first instinct would be to attack all that they deem a threat. But, by building trust and understanding between us and even between themselves I think…I think it might help them."

Elena's eyes seemed to narrow slightly as you spoke, her polite attitude remaining, but her suspicions growing stronger.

"You think that by encouraging friendships and bonds among the slashers, they'll be less aggressive and violent in their behavior ?" she said evenly, the hint of suspicion creeping into her voice. "Do you have any evidence to support that notion ?"

You smiled at her.

"Not yet. But…we have noticed that they have been a lot less violent. I mean…We have cannibals here…who actually changed their eating habits to fit in with the others. The Penny Brothers who are actual aliens and who have lived for thousands and thousands of years are actually not trying to kill anyone. We have had no complaints whatsoever from the members of staff in quite some time and I truly believe that if we continue on with our work then maybe…just maybe…we might be able to rehabilitate them. Could you imagine ? St Louis patients. Rehabilitated. Out there. Living normal lives…"

Elena seemed to be taken aback by the optimism in your tone.

"Rehabilitated," she repeated, her voice tinged with skepticism. "You think that by encouraging friendships among the slashers, they'll be able to be rehabilitated to the point where they can live normal, functional lives outside of St. Louis ?"

You nodded enthusiastically with a big smile.

"It is my theory."

Elena raised an eyebrow at that, the polite smile that had decorated her face slowly fading to be replaced by a look of skepticism and doubt.

"Your theory," she said slowly, "is that by encouraging friendships and bonds among the patients, it will somehow be possible to rehabilitate them to the point where they are able to reintegrate with society?"

You could see the doubt and skepticism in Elena's gaze as she took in your words. You couldn't blame her for her skepticism - it did seem like a far-fetched idea to think that the patients at St. Louis could be rehabilitated enough to ever have a chance at reintegrating into society. But, no matter how unlikely it seemed, you believed in the power of therapy and connection to change lives. And maybe, just maybe, with enough time, it might just work.

You nodded again.

"Indeed. Wouldn’t that be amazing ? Isn’t that what the hospital is all about ? To help the slashers to adapt and fit in into society ? Make them less dangerous for people and allow them outside ?"

Elena continued to watch you for a long moment, still keeping her face carefully neutral even as her suspicions grew. Finally, she spoke again, her voice still cautious and neutral.

"And this is your goal as well ? You seek to rehabilitate the patients into society ?"

You chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of your neck.

"I mean…yes ?"

Elena leaned back in her chair, her skepticism clear on her face, but her voice remained polite and casual.

"So," she said, "you are not only seeking to encourage friendships and bonds among the patients, but you are also hoping to rehabilitate them to the point where they can return to normal, functioning lives outside of the hospital ?"

You nodded once more.

"Yes."

Elena kept her gaze on yours for a few moments longer, clearly studying you and analyzing the information you had given her. Finally, she took another sip from her champagne and paused for a moment, her voice still polite but also tinged with caution.

"And you believe that this is possible? That the slashers could be rehabilitated into functional members of society ?"

"I mean I would love to see how far we could go…" You said and looked at Elena in the eyes. "If the left wing could maybe follow the right wing in this mindset then maybe…maybe we could actually help the slashers get better ? Wouldn’t it be fantastic ?"

Elena's expression remained polite and neutral, but you could almost feel a sense of scrutiny and wariness as she listened to your words. She carefully studied your facial expressions, body language, and tone of voice, searching for any hints that you might not have been entirely truthful. Elena continued to regard you with caution as you spoke, her eyes never leaving yours as she thought about the possibility.

"So you not only believe that it is possible," she said, her voice still polite but also carrying a hint of skepticism, "but you want the left wing to also take the same approach in regard to rehabilitating the patients ?"

"I…I mean…" You started and looked down at your fidgeting hands before continuing. "…I have heard of your…methods. With the patients in the left wing. And I just…I think that the best path would be to maybe use compassion and understanding instead of…the old methods."

As you mentioned her methods, you could see a flicker of something in her eyes, though you couldn't quite place what it was - surprise, anger, irritation…you weren't sure. But her composure was impeccable, and her voice was as even as ever as she spoke.

Elena took a leisurely sip of her champagne before speaking, her tone even but with an undercurrent of warning.

"Compassion and understanding, you say?"

Elena continued to study you closely as you spoke, her polite and calm expression slowly fading in favor of a look of suspicion.

"Compassion and understanding," she repeated, "instead of the old methods."

She paused again, seeming to consider your words for a moment, before she asked a question.

"Are you questioning our methods, Nurse Y/N ?"

Your eyes widened as you took a moment to reflect upon your next words carefully.

"I will be honest with you, Mrs Michaelis. We have been receiving very worrying accounts from one of your former patients. Jack Torrance. He told us of your…methods. He told us you used to torture him and taking very drastic measures against any sort of…resistance."

There was a brief moment of silence as your words hung in the air. Elena's face darkened slightly at the mention of Jack Torrance's name, and for the first time since the conversation began, her polite facade crumbled slightly, revealing a flash of her cold, calculating personality.

"Mr Torrance, you say," she finally spoke, her tone cold and laced with contempt. "That drunken, abusive man that attacked his own wife and child, you say?"

You hesitated.

"He seemed…terrified. And slashers are not easily frightened."

"I see," Elena said, her voice still laced with caution. She took another sip from her champagne glass, her eyes remaining fixed on yours, studying you, analyzing every detail.

Elena's gaze never wavered as she continued to analyze you intently, her eyes scanning every inch of your face and body language. She seemed to be deep in thought, her mind racing as she considered your words.

Finally, she spoke.

"You truly believe that our methods are too harsh, don't you ? That the left wing should adopt the same approach as the right wing, with your fancy talks of compassion and understanding."

You clenched your teeth and Victor noticed. He sighed before finally taking part in the discussion.

"When Jack Torrance was admitted in the right wing…It took days for him to speak. He was in a state of shock and panic that allows us to ask questions about the way the left wing has been handling the patients under their care…Elena." He stared straight at her.

Elena's expression flickered slightly as she looked at Victor, but she quickly regained her composure, her eyes narrowing slightly as she carefully considered his words.

"Mr Torrance was a danger to himself and others," she responded calmly. "He was violent, erratic, and unpredictable. Our methods were necessary to ensure the safety and well-being of both the staff and the other patients."

You hummed.

"Maybe so…but the other slashers are just as dangerous. But the way he described the way you used to treat him…He talked about electric shock and constant pain. You could understand why we wish for him to remain under OUR care…right ?"

Elena chuckled softly and shook her head, a slight smile spreading across her face.

"Jack Torrance had to be restrained for his own good," she said calmly, her voice still polite and friendly but with a hint of steel to it. "When dealing with the most violent of slashers, sometimes...drastic measures are necessary."

You frowned.

"Drastic measures…Do those drastic actions require the patient to remain in constant fear and pain ?"

Elena nodded.

"Draconian, but effective. Sometimes, the best way to deal with the most virulent of the slashers is by instilling a sense of fear and pain. Otherwise, they will continue to resist and continue to be a danger to both themselves and others."

She paused for a moment, her eyes still studying you closely.

"It is not pleasant, but it is a necessary reality."

Your eyes widened at Elena's words, her tone was so casual and matter-of-fact that it sent chills down your spine. It was clear that she saw things in a much different way than you or Victor did.

Victor's expression hardened as he spoke, his voice firm and determined.

"Our patients in the right wing are not kept in constant fear and pain," he said, staring straight at Elena. "We believe in building trust and understanding with them, not through fear and violence."

Elena's eyes flashed when he said those words.

"And let me guess, they are all friends and family now, are they ?" she said with a condescending tone. "Singing Kumbaya and holding hands with each other, holding group therapy sessions and playing games."

You suddenly stood up and glared at Elena.

"The slashers are PEOPLE. And I believe there is this little trivial thing called HUMAN RIGHTS that still applies to them and our mighty fine establishment !"

Elena's eyes widened as you stood up and glared at her. She was taken aback by your aggressive outburst and your sudden shift in tone. But, almost as quickly as her expression changed, it was back to her polite façade.

"Human rights…" she repeated, scoffing to herself. "How naive. Do you truly think we can apply such…conventional principles to these monsters ?"

Your face twitched at the word 'monsters'.

"Patients. I believe the right word is patients." You corrected her. Elena rolled her eyes as you did.

"Right. 'Patients'. Very well then. Let me rephrase. You truly believe that we can apply such conventional principles to these murderers, rapists, and cannibals ?"

She crossed her arms across her chest, her polite mask slipping slightly as she stared at you with a look of disdain.

You felt anger rise within you at her condescending tone and were about to answer when Alexander DesVosges—the head of the left wing—arrived at the table and sat down next to Elena. He gave both you and Victor a tight-lipped smile before looking at Elena.

"Is everything alright here, Elena ?"

Elena's expression immediately softened as she looked at Alexander and smiled politely.

" Yes, everything's fine," she said, her tone almost cheerful. "We were just engaging in an interesting conversation, weren't we, Y/N ?"

She looked at you expectantly, raising an eyebrow and waiting for your response.

You hesitantly nodded, your anger slowly simmering down under the weight of Elena's polite, yet authoritative gaze.

"Yes," you replied, "just a discussion on our methods of treating the slashers. Nothing too serious."

Your voice held a hint of caution, as you carefully chose your words, aware that any further outburst wouldn't be well received.

Alexander smiled.

"I see. And you had questions about our methods, yes ?"

Elena nodded slowly, her smile growing wider.

"Precisely. Y/N was curious about how we handle our patients in the left wing. I was explaining how we find our methods not only effective but also necessary."

She looked at you expectantly, waiting for your response. You forced a smile, trying to remain calm and composed in front of Alexander and Elena.

Alexander smiled at Elena.

"Alright then. Thank you, Elena. I will take it from here. Why don’t you let me handle those two charming individuals. You must be hungry. And the appetisers are simply to die for…"

"I am indeed hungry," Elena said with a polite smile, setting down her champagne glass.

She rose gracefully from her chair, and with a nod to Alexander DesVosges, she left the table, disappearing silently into the crowd.

Once she was out of sight, Alexander turned to look at you and Victor, his polite smile still plastered on his face.

As Elena left the table, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. The polite smile on Alexander's face never wavered as he turned his attention to you and Victor, his expression unreadable.

"So," he said, breaking the tense silence, "Elena tells me you were inquiring about our methods with the slashers in the left wing ?"

You nodded slowly, your gaze fixed on Alexander.

"Yes, that's correct," you said slowly. "We were wondering about the methods used in the left wing to rehabilitate the slashers, and our previous attempts to have that matter discussed with Elena didn't yield the most satisfactory results."

Alexander chuckled.

"Such a sweet woman. We are oh so grateful to have her on our team. She keeps us on our toes."

You nodded carefully.

"I'm sure she is a valuable member of the team."

A pause.

"But to be blunt, we have received accounts of some…rather unsavory methods used in the left wing to rehabilitate slashers. We have heard stories about electric shock, psychological torture, even lobotomies in some cases. Are these rumors true?"

Alexander's polite smile never faltered as he listened to your question, but you could see the hint of a smirk on his face.

"Ah, the rumors," he said, chuckling softly to himself. "Isn't it funny how such tales are bound to circulate within these walls ?"

He leaned back in his chair, his demeanor still calm and composed.

"But let me clarify. While some of the methods used in the left wing may seem…extreme to the untrained eye, they are necessary tools in our efforts to rehabilitate our patients. Every case is unique, and sometimes extreme measures are required."

Alexander’s smile didn’t falter—even though there was a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

"…We are not dealing with normal patients, Mrs Y/N. But slashers. Individuals that only respond to pain or violence…"

You hesitated for a moment, thinking about Alexander's response.

"I understand that. Believe me. I know that dealing with the slashers is not an easy task."

A pause.

"But, the methods you use in the left wing, are they really necessary? Are they really conducive to rehabilitation?"

Alexander's smile widened slightly.

"Necessary, yes. Conducive…sometimes. Not all the patients respond to our methods in the same way."

He took a sip of his champagne, swirling the golden liquid in his glass.

"But let me ask you something, Y/N. What would you do with these monsters if you were in my shoes ? How would you deal with them ? With kindness and understanding ?"

You responded with a smile of your own.

"Did you forget that I also have slashers as patients, Dr. DesVosges ?"

Alexander's eyes gleamed as he noticed your subtle shift in attitude. A faint smile played on his lips as he continued to stare at you with that same cold, calculating gaze.

"Of course not," he said, a slight chuckle in his voice. "Forgive me for such an assumption. I am well aware of your work in the right wing. And how are those little monsters holding up ? Are they adapting well ?"

You remained smiling as you answered.

"They are just fine. A lively bunch. And so far, no casualties for more than two years after we started treating them like human beings instead of 'monsters' as you like to call them…Funny how a little bit of understanding and compassion can go a long way, huh ?"

Alexander's polite smile began to crumble slightly at your response, but he quickly composed himself, masking his frustration behind a veneer of calmness.

"How sweet," he said, his voice laced with a hint of contempt. "I'm glad to hear they're doing well. It's always endearing to see someone try to find humanity in those creatures."

You leaned forward to look deep into Dr. DesVosges’ eyes.

"I’ve got eyes to decipher human beings from monsters, sir."

Alexander's polite smile finally cracked, and for the first time, a hint of a scowl appeared on his face. He met your gaze straight on, his eyes hardening as he spoke.

"Is that so ?" he said, his voice filled with barely suppressed disdain. "Then perhaps you should take a closer look at yourself, my dear. We are all monsters in our own way, whether you choose to accept it or not."

You smirked.

"And what side is winning on the left wing’ team I wonder ?"

A flicker of anger flitted across Alexander's face at your brazen remark, but he quickly regained his composure, forcing another polite smile onto his lips.

"Let's not resort to such childish comparisons," he said firmly. "We are all on the same side here, aren't we ? Both wings are striving for the same goal - the rehabilitation of these slashers."

You leaned back in your chair.

"Of course…And that is why I am asking questions instead of taking things to the headboard directly."

Alexander's expression remained neutral, but you could sense the tension in the air growing thicker.

"I can see that," he said calmly, "and I appreciate your…restraint."

He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke again.

"But let me ask you this, Y/N… Do you truly believe your methods are superior ? That the mere act of understanding and compassion is enough to change the hearts of these monsters ?"

Your smile didn’t falter.

"I am sorry…do I look hesitant or worried at the moment, sir ? I wouldn’t want to give you any doubt about my confidence in my work."

Alexander's eyes hardened further, his patience clearly beginning to wane. He leaned forward in his chair, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Confidence is good, Y/N. But arrogance…now that is not a trait I value."

He leaned back in his chair again, taking a sip of his champagne before continuing.

"Let me give you a piece of advice. Sometimes, compassion and understanding are nothing but illusions. And monsters…well, they are never truly tame, are they ?"

You hummed.

"The slashers are extremely lonely individuals. They hunt and eat alone. But, give them a reason to care ? A family ? See how fast they can change…"

Alexander's gaze darkened slightly as you spoke, his patience now all but gone.

"You're deluded if you think that all these creatures crave is a family," he said with a scoff. "Not all of them care about such…trivial things. And even if they do, it's likely just another manipulative tactic to trick you into letting your guard down with them. I guarantee you, Y/N, that if these slashers had a chance…they would rip you limb from limb without even blinking."

You grinned.

"And yet, they saved me more than once."

Alexander's expression darkened further at your statement, his eyes narrowing, a flicker of anger flickering across his face.

"Lucky you," he muttered, his voice tinged with skepticism and contempt. "The slashers you've encountered must have a strange sense of loyalty. It won't last, I assure you. They are creatures driven by selfishness and violence, and sooner or later, they will turn on you. It's in their nature."

"And I intend to change their nature. How about the slashers you rehabilitated ? Weren’t they worthy of your compassion ?" You asked.

Alexander let out a humorless chuckle, his patience clearly wearing thin.

"Compassion?" he said, his voice laced with disdain. "Oh, Y/N, you have no idea what the left wing is all about, do you ? Our methods may seem…harsh to the untrained eye, but we have good reason for using them. We are not just trying to change our patients' nature. We are molding it, shaping it to become something…more manageable. More controllable."

Alexander chuckled.

"Of course. We have had a lot of cases of people being rehabilitated. Including Norman Bates who has actually been our proudest accomplishment since he became an uncle and adopted a child…isn’t that right, Y/N ?" He looked at you—his smile widening. "How is your uncle by the way ? I haven’t heard from him in a while…"

Norman…Bates.

At the mention of his name, a chill ran down your spine, but you managed to keep your composure as your fingers curled around the stem of your champagne flute.

"He's…fine," you muttered, forcing a smile. "He's just busy with work. Haven't seen him much lately…"

Alexander's smile widened further as he heard your response.

"Ah yes," he said, nodding slowly. "Norman has been quite the busy little bee. But I must say, his rehabilitation has been truly impressive. I know he's a very…proud uncle."

Your grip tightened around your champagne flute, your knuckles turning white as you struggled to keep your anger in check. This man…this insufferable, cold-hearted bastard…he was taunting you, using Norman as a means to get under your skin.

Your body tensed up as you glared at Alexander, your eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and disgust. But before you could react or say anything, Victor laid a calming hand on your shoulder, his voice gentle yet firm.

"Y/N," he said softly, "don't let him get to you. It's what he wants."

Victor's touch and words instantly calmed you down, but your anger remained simmering underneath the surface. You knew he was right—you couldn't let this snake get under your skin.

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, turning your attention back to Alexander.

"Oh, don't worry," you said, your voice dripping with fake sweetness. "I'm just enjoying the conversation, Dr. DesVosges. And thank you for asking about my uncle. I'll make sure to pass on your regards."

Alexander chuckled again, clearly relishing in this little power struggle.

"Please do," he said, raising his glass to you in mock salute. "I'm sure he misses your charming company."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his sarcastic remark, taking a sip of your champagne to hide your irritation. It was clear that Alexander took pleasure in seeing you struggle, but you were surprised with what you heard him say next.

"We are very proud of our achievements in the left wing. However," he continued, "we are aware that our methods are…controversial, to say the least. And we are willing to work with you, to cooperate with each other, to learn from each other's experiences to better rehabilitate the slashers as a whole."

A pause.

"After all, we are on the same team. The Left Wing and the Right Wing, working together towards the same goal."

Your mouth nearly dropped open in surprise at Alexander's unexpected offer. Working together? Cooperating? Had hell just frozen over ? After a moment of stunned silence, you managed to compose yourself, meeting Alexander's gaze firmly.

"Is that…so ?" you asked, a hint of skepticism in your voice. "You're willing to work together, to learn from our methods ? Truly ?"

Alexander's smile widened into the most genuine smile you had seen from him all night.

"I am," he said, his voice sincere. "I think it would be a valuable experience for us all. Let's not let our differences stand in the way of our common goal — to rehabilitate these poor souls."

You were taken aback by his sudden change in demeanour and grinned widely before taking his hand and shaking it.

"Of course ! We would be glad if we could share our thoughts and knowledge to help the slashers the best we can…Thank you for considering it."

Maybe…You could reach an agreement ?

Alexander's grip tightened around your hand as he shook it firmly, his demeanor completely different from moments before. His smile widened as you thanked him, clearly pleased to have come to this agreement.

"You're welcome," he said, his voice smooth and gracious. "I think this is the start of a beautiful collaboration. I look forward to working together.”

You were about to answer when—to your utter shock and disbelief—Freddy entered. Freddy Krueger opened the door wide and waltzed in with the biggest shit-eating grin and raised his hands in the air.

"Yo ! Nobody told me there was a party in here !"

The moment their eyes settled on Freddy, all the left wing staff members stopped their conversation. Suddenly, Alexander stepped forward with a twisted smile.

"What are you doing out of your cell, patient 505 ?"

Freddy looked the man up and down disdainfully before shrugging.

"My…cell ? You mean my room ? Sorry. Pennywise has been hibernating there for a while and since he snores, I decided to crash the party. Hope I'm not too late ?" Freddy joked—but none of the staff seemed in the mood. They all stared at Freddy who could feel the awkwardness in the room spread at an incredible rate.

Freddy's sudden entrance caused a palpable sense of unease to fill the room, the staff members of the left wing eyeing him with a mix of shock and suspicion. You could feel the tension in the air growing thicker as Alexander stepped forward, his voice filled with disdain as he asked Freddy what he was doing outside his cell.

Freddy's nonchalance only added to the already uneasy atmosphere, and you could see the anxiety and discomfort in the staff members' faces as they stared at the infamous slasher.

Freddy's entrance had caused an eerie silence to descend over the table. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting in tense silence to hear what would happen next.

He coughed and tried to offer them a smile.

"Wow. I knew you people were a tough crowd, but still.." Freddy's attempt at breaking the ice failed to ease the tension in the room, and the staff members continued to stare at him warily, their gazes filled with distrust and disapproval.

Alexander stepped forward, his voice laced with disdain as he addressed Freddy.

"Patient 505, or should I say Freddy Krueger, this is not a party. This is a private gathering. You have no business being here. Return to your cell immediately.”

Freddy laughed awkwardly.

"Come on, man ! It’s okay. I ain’t here to cause trouble. Am just here cause I smelt pizza…"

The staff members exchanged glances, their suspicions growing stronger at Freddy's admission. The last thing they wanted was for a dangerous slasher to be roaming free among them, especially with the delicate truce in place between the wings.

Alexander sighed heavily, clearly not amused by Freddy's intrusion.

"Patient 505, this is not appropriate. You cannot just waltz into a private gathering without an invitation. Return to your cell immediately or I will have the security force drag you there."

Freddy only let out an exasperated chuckle, his smile slowly fading under Alexander's sharp gaze.

"Learn to loosen up, man. Chill." He then attempted to give Alexander a slight squeeze of his shoulder, but before he could as much as lay a finger on him, Freddy was on the floor. Wolfe had tackled him to the ground and pulled out his gun before pointing it at Freddy's head. He took a shot and some kind of black gooey substance shot out of the gun to cover Freddy's face. He fell backwards and started screaming as the black gooey substance started to invade and obstruct his airways.

Your eyes widened as you witnessed the sudden and brutal attack against Freddy.

Freddy's screams echoed through the room, and for a moment, it felt as though the air itself had become heavy with dread and foreboding.

You saw a look of pure horror and fear cross his face as the black substance entered his airways, obstructing his breathing. You couldn't look away, the whole scene felt like it was happening in slow motion, like time was standing still.

The room fell into a stunned silence as the sound of Freddy's screams echoed off the walls, the atmosphere filled with a sense of disbelief and shock.

You watched in horror as the black, gooey substance filled Freddy's air ways, his body thrashing and convulsing on the ground. The sight was nothing short of nightmarish, and the realization of what was happening set in.

The left wing of the institute had attacked Freddy Krueger without warning or mercy.

"Suffocating shotgun. It allows the patient to stay dead for a long time, since they constantly lack air." Wolfe explained with a proud smile. But, you ignored him and pushed him out of the way to go check on Freddy.

"Mr. Krueger ?! Freddy ?! Are you alright ?!"

Freddy lay motionless on the floor, the black substance that had invaded his airways still covering his face and obstructing his breathing.

There was no trace of movement from him, no sound either, just an eerie and complete silence that made the whole situation even more sinister than it already was.

“Freddy!” you called out, your voice tight with worry as you kneeled down and attempted to remove the black substance covering his face.

After a few minutes, the black substance finally disappeared and Freddy drew breath once more.

"Wh-what…what th-the hell was th-that?" he sputtered out, his voice hoarse from the attack.

As the black substance slowly retreated from Freddy's airways, he gasped for air, his body shaking from the effort. His voice was weak and raspy as he tried to speak.

"That…" Freddy managed to choke out, still trying to catch his breath. "That was the most unpleasant experience of my life. I feel like I just got smothered in a swamp."

You hugged him tightly.

"Thank goodness…"

Freddy coughed and sputtered as he drew in air once again. When he saw you hugging him, he seemed to relax a little.

"Hey, you're not mad at me for crashing the party, are ya…?"

You let out a shaky laugh as you hugged Freddy, feeling immensely relieved that he was okay.

As he coughed and sputtered, trying to catch his breath, you saw him finally start to relax a little as you held him in your arms.

"No, Freddy. I'm not mad at you," you said, still holding onto him tightly. "But please, try not to crash any more parties uninvited."

Freddy chuckled weakly, his voice still hoarse from the attack.

"Can do, Y/N. No more crashing parties uninvited. Got it."

As you continued to hold onto him, he leaned further against you, his body still shaking from the aftermath of the assault. The room was eerily silent as everyone stared at him, clearly not expecting you to be so caring towards him.

You then glared at Wolfe.

"What the…WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ?! HOW DARE YOU LAY A HAND ON ONE OF MY PATIENTS ?!"

You had spent months getting used to the slashers and their unusual characteristics, you had fought with every fiber in your body to make them feel as if they weren't mad or bad people..And now, they had attacked Freddy for absolutely no reason. He hadn't even made a sex joke yet !

Wolfe's eyes narrowed as he looked at you.

"He was out of his cell without permission," he said coldly, "we cannot afford to take any risks with the slashers."

Wolfe's cold response only fueled your anger even more.

"He wasn't a threat !" you yelled, your voice filled with frustration and indignation. "He was just hungry and looking for some pizza. He wasn't doing anything wrong. You had no right to treat him like that !"

Freddy got to his feet, leaning against you for support as he regained his bearings. Even though he was still weak and shaky, Freddy managed to summon up enough strength to sass back at Wolfe.

"Hey, dickhead," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I was just sayin’ hi, not planning to unleash a fuckin’ zombie apocalypse."

Wolfe ignored Freddy’s response, instead turning his attention back to you.

"Nurse Y/N, you need to understand the dangers these slashers pose," he said, his voice firm and resolute. "We can’t let them wander around freely."

You frowned.

"You shot him with a suffocating shotgun ! There were so many other ways to deal with a situation like this !"

Wolfe was silent for a moment before speaking again, his tone still cold and callous.

"The safety of the staff and the other patients comes first. He was out without permission, he may have been planning to attack someone. There was no time to take unnecessary chances with someone like him."

"Someone like him ?! Freddy Krueger is a person ! No matter how you view him !" You shouted.

You were now furious with Wolfe's careless attitude and lack of empathy. You couldn't believe that he had attacked Freddy without hesitation, just because he was out of his cell without permission. And now, he wasn't even showing any remorse for what he'd done.

As you continued to argue with Wolfe, Freddy's gaze landed on Alexander, who had been oddly silent throughout the whole ordeal. He had just watched the scene unfold without intervening, his expression betraying no hint of emotion.

Wolfe was about to speak when a sudden and subtle shift in the atmosphere cut him off.

Everyone in the room felt it, as though a sudden chill had entered the air. Alexander, who had been standing silently in the corner, was now standing in the middle of the room.

Alexander's eyes were cold and calm, and his expression was utterly impenetrable.

"Nurse Y/N," Alexander said calmly, "Mr. Schulz was only doing his job."

Your eyes were locked on Alexander as he stepped into the center of the room. Even though you weren't afraid of the man, you felt a sudden chill that crept up your spine and a subtle sense of dread. You felt a rush of anger as you looked at Alexander, his expression cold and unreadable, his tone of voice calm but also full of authority.

"I don't care about that." you said angrily, "What he did was extreme and unnecessary."

"Careful, Nurse Y/N. If I didn’t know any better…I would say you attached yourself to your patients." Alexander said and smiled coldly at you. "It would be a shame to have to report you and your rather curious behaviour towards the patients."

It was a threat. Not even a well-hidden one. Alexander smirked with a malicious gleam in his eyes and you knew by the way he had tightened his hold on your hand that the man was serious. He wouldn't mind breaking a finger and would certainly walk away with it.

"Believe me when I say the headboard will be hearing about this." You seethed.

He huffed a mocking laugh at your threat before leaning forward just enough for you to see him eye to eye. He then whispered.

"Who do you think approved our funding in the first place ? Don't forget, Y/N. You may have the right-wing under your jurisdiction, but we own the left-wing and the many levels underneath us. Admit it. You are far over your head. Now…give us back Jack Torrance."

The tension was palpable in the room and the gap between both staff was never made clearer. You looked up at Dr. Alexander with profound distaste while he seemed to find the most perfect way to show you his utter disdain. You had tried to be empathetic, find common ground, but it seemed it was impossible.

You felt your blood run cold as Alexander leaned in close and whispered his threats, the tension in the room reaching its peak. There was no denying the power and authority he held over the left wing, and the realization that the institute's funding had also been approved by him was unsettling.

But you were not deterred, your determination only growing stronger as he continued to mock you. You stood your ground and glared back at him, refusing to buckle under his intimidation.

"I have no intention of giving you Jack Torrance," you retorted, your voice unyielding.

You couldn't relate to them. And you couldn’t possibly understand their methods.

They didn't even sound like professionals, but simply—and frightfully so—ruthless torturers.

You looked away from Alexander, your heart pounding in your chest.

You felt a chill run through your veins, a wave of coldness courning through your body as you realized the seriousness of the situation.

If you refused to return Jack Torrance, you risked losing everything, all the work you had put into the Right Wing and its patients, your entire career as a nurse.

And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to give up Jack Torrance to the Left Wing; no matter what it cost you.

You clenched your fists tightly, your frustration and determination mingling together as you stood firm against the left wing staff. Your career and reputation were on the line, but you couldn't bear the thought of sending Jack Torrance back to the cold and ruthless hands of the left wing.

With a deep breath, you looked directly into Alexander’s eyes and spoke with conviction.

"You can take my career, you can threaten and intimidate me all you want. But I will not give you Jack Torrance."

The room was silent as your words hung in the air. Alexander looked at you, his expression unreadable, before turning his attention to Wolfe.

"I have had enough of this game. Nurse Y/N is clearly not going to acquiesce. We have to use a more…convincing approach."

Wolfe nodded, his eyes gleaming as he understood what Alexander was implying.

You took a step back, feeling a sense of dread wash over you as you noticed Wolfe's predatory smile. You knew that they were going to use a more persuasive approach, but what exactly that approach was remained a mystery.

As you stood there, waiting for the next move, your mind raced with thoughts of the possible methods the left-wing staff might use to convince you to let them have Jack Torrance.

Suddenly, soldiers came into the room and surrounded you. All festivities stopped and your eyes widened as you realized they never had the intention to talk. They wanted to overtake the hospital.

"Get the slashers in here. There will be a slight change in command." Alexander asked Wolf who smirked and nodded as he started walking away.

"YOU CANNOT DO THIS !", you screamed and Eva held you back.

"Don't. Don't. There's too many of them." Eva said while wrapping her arms around you from behind before dragging you away. She was right. They had the guns and man power. You thought this was a meeting, but it was a plain and simple takeover.

"Thank you for your cooperation." Elena said before pointing her guns at the right wing staff who all raised their hands in surrender. You glared at her as you realised it was all a trap and they had never even considered giving you the chance to talk things out.

As the soldiers surrounded you and your staff, you felt a sense of panic and helplessness wash over you. You couldn't believe that they had planned this all along, that they had never intended to have a peaceful discussion. The realization that it was a hostile takeover made your blood boil, and you tried to lunge at them in anger, but Eva held you back.

As you watched in horror as the left wing staff took control of the hospital, you felt a mixture of anger and disappointment. You had tried so hard to work with them, and they had betrayed you in the worst way possible.

You were outnumbered, and you could hear the soldiers' footsteps echoing throughout the room as they took position around you and your staff.

"What the hell are you doing ?" You shouted, your voice rising in pitch and tension, "you don't have the right to take Jack Torrance by force !"

Alexander stared back at you calmly.

"We have our orders from the board. Hand over Jack Torrance, or else…"

You glared at him.

"YOU CANNOT DO THIS !", you screamed and Eva held you back.

You couldn't sit back and let this happen to Jack Torrance.

"You will not take him by force. Not while I'm still in charge of this wing."

But just as you were about to take another step forward, another soldier stepped forward and grabbed you by the arm, holding you back.

Alexander chuckled and both Wolfe and Elena stood by him as he forced you and your staff on your knees.

"Valiant efforts. But futile. We will find Jack Torrance…No matter where you hid him."

You struggled against the soldier that had grabbed your arm, attempting to pull away from him, but he held you tightly.

Your eyes blazed with anger and defiance as you watched the left-wing staff take control of the room, forcing you and your staff on your knees. You couldn't believe that they had resorted to such extreme measures, all for the sake of getting back Jack Torrance.

"YOU WILL NEVER FIND HIM !" You shouted.

Your staff was also being restrained, their movements restricted by other soldiers as they were pushed to the floor with their hands behind their backs.

You looked up at Alexander, who was now standing in front of you, his eyes cold and emotionless.

"We will find Jack Torrance," he repeated, "no matter where you hid him. And we will make sure he is dealt with accordingly."

You felt the soldier tighten his grip around your arm as you tried once more to free yourself.

Alexander's expression remained unchanged, his voice remained completely void of any emotion.

"You have made a grave mistake, Nurse Y/N. You should have chosen to cooperate with us, to work together. Instead, you chose confrontation. And for that…"

Alexander stepped closer to you, his expression darkening somewhat.

"You are about to face the consequences."

You felt a cold shiver run down your spine as Alexander came closer and leered at you, his eyes cold and unforgiving. You knew exactly what fate he was referring to - the left wing staff would use any means necessary to extract information and find Jack Torrance, even if it meant resorting to torturous methods.

You glared at them.

"If anything happens to me or the left-wing staff…the headboard will cut you off. They won’t forgive you."

Wolfe scoffed at your threat and leered at you with a sadistic grin.

"You really think the headboard is on your side ? They'll be more than happy to replace you and your staff with us. They're sick and tired of your incompetent management. They want results, not compassion and empathy."

You huffed.

"And yet, we are still being sent money and equipment every month. There’s a reason there are TWO wings, Mr. Schmidt."

Wolfe snickered menacingly, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.

"You think money and equipment will keep you in power ? Money is nothing compared to the support of the board. They'll replace you with us without a second thought. And don't forget, we're the ones who keep the facility functioning. You and your staff are just a bunch of soft-hearted fools."

You smirked.

"And yet…THEY sent us Jack Torrance."

Wolfe's expression darkened at your words.

"Jack Torrance ? Ha ! What a joke. You may have received him, but that doesn't change the fact that the headboard is backing us. They will never side with you. They need us to deal with these monsters. They don't care about your 'therapy' methods or your 'compassion'. They want results. And we will deliver them. Even if we have to break a few rules along the way. You're nothing but a pesky nuisance, and eventually…we'll get rid of you."

You grinned.

"Oh ! But the code is clear. Staff harming staff would mean risking your own department. You have no right to harm other staff members or killing them…"

Wolfe leaned closer, his expression turning cold and malicious.

"You really believe we would stick to the code when it comes to dealing with disobedient staff ? You're delusional. We have our own methods of handling people like you. You may think you're untouchable, but you're not. The code means nothing to us. The headboard may not explicitly endorse our methods, but they don't stop us either. And when it comes to getting the job done…we don't care about the rules."

Suddenly, Freddy tried to attack him.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER !"

Freddy's outburst was unexpected and explosive. In a flash, he surged forward, attempting to attack Wolfe. But the soldiers reacted quickly, restraining him with an iron grip before he could lay a hand on him.

Wolfe's eyes widened for a moment before he composed himself. He then let out a cold chuckle, looking at Freddy with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

"Well, well, if it isn't the infamous Freddy Kruger," he taunted. "Still playing the tough guy, even when you're powerless."

Freddy glared at him.

"You hurt her, and you’ll see why we are called SLASHERS, you fucking piece of shit !"

Wolfe smirked at Freddy's threat.

"Ah, the classic slasher bravado. But let's be real here. You're not in your scary dreams anymore. You're just a mere patient with a talent for sharp objects. We have the authority here, and we won't hesitate to use extreme measures if necessary. So you can keep your threats, Krueger. We're not afraid of you, or your little knives."

Freddy seethed and even though four men were holding him down, he got close enough to whisper.

"I may not be in my dreamworld anymore, but I ain’t the only slasher ready to fuck you up for her, bucko…" Freddy grinned at him. "And believe me…they are worse than me."

Wolfe chuckled sinisterly, unperturbed by Freddy's words.

"Oh, really ? Are you trying to recruit your little slasher friends to come and take me down ? How cute," he said sarcastically. "But let me remind you, we are not afraid. We have the strength and the power to take on anything that comes our way. Your friends are just a bunch of pitiful creatures compared to us. We'll put them down just as easily as we put you down," Wolfe challenged.

Freddy’s grin widened when screams were heard from the corridor and blood suddenly splashed the door where they were. One of the soldiers came in—missing an arm.

"Th-They’re coming !"

The room fell silent as the severed arm hit the door. Panic and confusion spread as the soldier stumbled in, frantically shouting about the slashers coming.

Wolfe's expression hardened.

"What the hell is going on ?! What do you mean they're coming ?! Get a hold of yourself and answer !" he barked at the injured soldier.

The soldiers was about to answer when a hand suddenly went through him and ripped out his heart. The soldier fell to his knees and Pennywise appeared behind him.

He smirked before eating the heart in one bite.

"So…Who dared to wake me up from my nap, huh ?"

The sight of Pennywise tearing out the soldier's heart and devouring it shook everyone to the core. The once confident and threatening atmosphere shattered, replaced by pure terror. Even the most ruthless left-wing staff was momentarily stunned into silence.

Wolfe's eyes widened.

"What the hell is that thing ?! Shoot it ! Shoot it now !" he ordered frantically.

The soldiers obeyed, firing shots at Pennywise. But the eldritch clown merely scoffed as the bullets harmlessly bounced off him. Suddenly, Pennywise’s eyes glowed with a maniacal gleam as he lunged towards them.

The soldiers scattered, attempting to avoid Pennywise, but he was a blur of movement, taking out the soldiers one by one with his claws or teeth. Wolfe, who had always been confident in his own power, was now visibly frightened by the sudden turn of events.

As Pennywise finished off the last of the soldiers, he turned his attention to the stunned staff members. With a cold chuckle, he walked over to Wolfe and grabbed him by the shirt.

"Well hello there, are you the one in charge ?" Pennywise asked with a smirk. Wolfe was about to answer, but he realised that Elena and Dr. DesVosges had fled after the attack.

"I…I…" He tried to speak, but failed.

Pennywise tut-tut-ed teasingly at Wolfe's inability to speak. "Oh dear, looks like you can't find the words," he mocked, "I wonder where your little friends went…Did they abandon you ?"

Pennywise's expression darkened as he tightened his grip on Wolfe's shirt and opened his mouth wide to eat off his head.

Suddenly, you stood up and approached Pennywise.

"Enough, Pennywise."

Pennywise's attention shifted to you as you approached him. There was a flicker of curiosity in his pale blue eyes as he regarded you.

"Ah, Nurse Y/N, a familiar face indeed," he acknowledged, his voice filled with an eerie calmness. "But you seem to be forgetting your place, addressing me in such a manner."

Pennywise's smile turned cold as he let go of Wolfe and turned fully towards you. You faced Pennywise and didn’t hesitate before kneeling before him.

"Not at all. I know your power. And I know they woke you up from your nap. But they didn’t realise who they were dealing with. Please. Forgive them."

Pennywise raised an eyebrow at your sudden show of submission. He studied you for a few moments, gauging the sincerity in her words.

After a pause, he chuckled softly.

"Forgiveness…now that's an interesting concept, coming from a nurse. But I suppose I can be merciful," he mused, a sadistic smile playing on his lips. "I shall spare them, for now. However, let this be a warning. They should not underestimate my power or wake me from my slumber again. The next time will not end so pleasantly for them."

You smiled before looking up at him.

"I understand. Thank you, Pennywise."

Pennywise nodded, his expression softening ever so slightly.

"Rise, nurse," he said, gesturing for you to stand up. "You have shown me respect, and for that, I shall spare you as well. But remember, my mercy has its limits. Do not push me. I shall take my leave now."

With that, Pennywise turned and faded into the shadows, disappearing from sight just as suddenly as he had appeared. You smiled as you saw Pennywise disappear and Freddy grinned widely.

"THAT WAS MY BEST FRIEND ! AH ! TAKE THAT, SUCKERS !"

You smiled before looking at the right-wing staff.

"Alright. Let’s get back to work, people. You have one hour to wash yourselves and get ready. Have a good day."

The right-wing staff exchanged nervous glances, still shaken by the ordeal with Pennywise. But your firm orders snapped them back to reality. They quickly dispersed to clean themselves up and prepare for the rest of their shift. Some muttered prayers of thanks under their breath, grateful you had been able to appease the slasher.

You smiled before looking back at Wolfe who was on the floor—his eyes wide open. He was clearly still in shock and she sighed.

"Well ? What are you still doing here ? Go back to the left-wing. And do tell them that you—still being alive—is a gift. I still hope for both our wings to work together. But, if you EVER attempt to attack my wing or take over ? I will be sure to send Pennywise finish the work…Got it ?"

Wolfe nodded his head quickly, his eyes still wide with shock and fear. He picked himself up, stumbling over his words.

"Y-Yes, of course…I-I understand. Never a-again." With that, he turned and fled the room, practically racing down the corridor to get back to the left-wing as fast as possible.

You stood there for a moment longer, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You knew that the events of that day had shaken everyone to the core. But even so, you couldn't help but smile. The bond between the right-wing staff was stronger than ever. Even if Wolfe and the left-wing staff were plotting against you, you knew the left-wing would always be there to protect their patients…no matter the cost.

[st4rstudent]

Following the release of the latest chapter. I think I will dwell into those little headcanons/thought pieces about the Desk Jockeys (and Brian) that I mentioned a while ago.

So here it is. My long clem ramble.

NOTE: these are mainly all just headcanons of mine. A sick and twisted look into my mind. Do not consider this as me saying "these are all CANON and if you think differently youre WRONG" because that's not true at all.

I'm going to be doing this in little sections. I'd like to begin by saying that I believe the Desk Jockeys and Brianbots are very different from each other, despite the fact that the Brianbots are just reprogrammed from the Desk Jockeys.

The main points of difference I feel are: design, personalities, and certain equipment. I'll go into the last 2 more, but as a funfact. Did you all know that the Brianbots and Desk Jockeys in the tutorial have different clothes.

(Desk Jockey vs. Brianbot)

I think it's a fun little touch that the Desk Jockeys get brighter attire, whereas Brian changed the Brianbots to more dull colors. Something something cog #society.

Ok I'm breaking the two into groups now. lalala

Desk Jockeys

Desk Jockeys are created by Professor Pete. As we all know they're just simple training dummies, and I believe that is the entirety of their existence.

They are built out of cheaper, more flimsy material, due to the lack of resources that toons can get ahold of. Luckily, this cheaper material makes them much easier to rebuild after each destruction.

I also believe this cheaper material is obvious when it comes to their voiceboxes. Higher-quality voiceboxes are usually only obtainable through companies like COGS inc (or general cog society. that's like an entire topic that can be dwelled on that I haven't given as much thought as I'd like), so the Desk Jockeys are given a more makeshift-"homemade" voice box, made by Professor Pete. As a result, their voices are usually lower and much more monotone/robotic. They also frequently have pitch shifts and will change after being rebuilt because, well, trying to rebuild something exactly is hard.

Ironically, despite their designs being brighter than the Brianbots, they don't have much of a personality. Being training dummies, they don't develop ones because a.) cheaper materials, like processing functions = no ability to retain "memories" and develop/advance and b.) idk I feel like having them with personalities would lead for some crazy self-purpose issues.

This also is a reflection of COG society and how cogs can't take jokes/are supposed to be super serious. It gives a little insight into new recruits about what cogs are supposedly like (even if it's not 100% true).

In summary: A lot of words for "they're just training dummies and lack the higher quality material to form any amount of sentience". Although this isn't inherently a bad thing.

Brianbots

Reprogrammed/hijacked by Brian. There are four of them (3 normals and an executive). While they still maintain the same attacks as the Desk Jockeys, their purpose is not to be dummies... well in the training dummy sense.

They're basically Brian's henchmen and his only cog-related company for a majority of the time.

Although their outer shells are still the same recycled, flimsy material, their internal workings have been given a bit of an upgrade. Given better processing powers, they're now able to hold memories and are able to analyze/solve situations... to an extent.

In reality, what often happens is that they hear what's being said to them, respond, and then only process about half of what's being said. Despite the updates, their processing power still can only hold so much. Out of all of them, the executive has a higher processing power and is usually given the most responsibility (much to their disappointment).

In addition to this, they did get updated voiceboxes! One's that Brian 'borrowed' from the company (because I think it's funny. And 4 missing voiceboxes can't cause that much harm... right?). They all now share the same voicebox, making it hard to tell which one is actually talking. Unless if you spend a majority of your time with them.

In terms of personality, it takes some time*. They eventually do gain more sentience/personality, however due to their limited processing power, it's not very divided. To describe them simply: They try their best. They're very curious on things, but they never can retain all the answer, leading to repetitive questions. What they do retain, they make sure to share. Unfortunately, if you're trying to keep a secret or super evil plans to overtake Toontown Central, this means they may accidentally share it (not maliciously). They're also very clumsy.

*If you know SW: think about how some droids start off very strict to their programming when they are first created, and then as the years pass and they're surrounded by more influences, they eventually develop a personality.

Basically, they're the exact opposite of a super serious businesscog. Much to the dismay of Brian's various efforts of reprogramming.

Part of this is due to their creator. Professor Pete is a toon and as a result, the Desk Jockeys/Brianbots all have a bit of toony influence. No amount of programming can remove that from them.

Despite this, they still are capable. In battles, they can follow orders well (callback to the training dummy origin) and they do listen to lectures, or at least act like they are.

In summary: They're capable of much higher functions and processes compared to the Desk Jockeys, due to better equipment. In terms of personality, they're the complete opposite of what they were reprogrammed for.

With that out of the way...

Brianbots and Brian

One thing I've noticed is that when a lot of people talk about Brian and the Brianbots, they're described in a family situation (Brian being the parent, the Brianbots being the children). And for clarity, I want to say I have no issues with this interpretation. I think it's fun!! And I think that as long as the people doing it are having fun, then YAY!!!!

With that said, my interpretation of this is a bit different. I don't believe they consciously, or intentionally, would find themself in a family-like format (such as referring to each other by familial names or thinking of each other as such).*

The Brianbots and Brian, to me, are like a Saturday morning cartoon villain and his 4 little henchmen that just keep making things unintentionally worse. Minus all the belittling that those tropes often do.

Shortly after reprogramming them, Brian is incredibly disappointed to find out they are, well, silly. After all of his hard work and skilled genius, they turn out like this? Clearly it can't be an issue on his part, so he must keep trying! (<- imagine im saying the "After ... trying" part in a deep sarcastic tone)

However, even after more reprogramming, they still don't change. They're still silly, they still mess up, and they're still clumsy. They are not cog-material. And Brian is upset by this. He was finally in a leadership position, but his employers are these things.

In short: He wanted to try to reprogram them to be the model cog (serious, listens, follows orders to a T), but he doesn't get that. And he CAN'T get that because of their origins.

However, they are also the only cog company he has.

Brian's in the middle of a Toon Playground, in a basement, a toon's basement no less. He doesn't have the joys of having other employees join his battle, he doesn't get to work in the Sellbot HQ. The most he gets is Sellbot meetings and the "keep them separated" order with Buck. For all intents and purposes, Brian is alone. Except for the Brianbots.

Eventually, he gets used to them. Their antics provide for good lecturing sessions and on the rare occasion, they do prove to be adequately useful.

The Brianbots didn't have a strong opinion of Brian at first, especially when they were still developing personalities. However, as they progressed, they became rather fond of him. In their mind, it's just him and them. There's no outside cog hierarchy structure and even if you explained it, they wouldn't understand.

They often take his words with sincerity, even if he's completely lying. And they speak highly of him, seeing as he's the "most genius cog to ever live". They have no evidence to confirm or deny this claim. It's also debatable if some of this is sincerity or part of their programming.

In reality, it's a bit of both.

However this doesn't mean they don't have their moments. In the times they do catch him in a lie or an obviously-going-to-fail-scheme, they'll shoot each other silent glances. If they're in a real mischievous mood, they can easily catch him off guard by asking him a question that seems quite easy to answer (usually one that would force him to admit he's wrong). He either doesn't answer it or stammers for a few minutes before quickly changing the subject.

After particularly bad battles or major mess ups, Brian will end up scolding them. Although his belittlement and scorns aren't meant to be malicious (tough-love type situation), the Brianbots will still end up taking them to heart or their mechanical equivalent. Luckily, they don't hold grudges and also take apologies very easily (like toons).

The Brianbots can also be kind of overbearing/overwhelming, although it's all in good nature. Brian, a cog who would scurry away on all fours at the thought of anything more than a handshake, vs the 4 Brianbots who are happy to see him after a long day of watching the basement and are now speeding at him with arms wide open.

In the times the Brianbots do have a good idea, Brian will absolutely claim it as his own. This results in either a.) them all nodding in agreement in awe or b.) they shoot looks at each other.

*Going back up to what I said about consciously being in a family-type situation. Some of this may come off as a family-type situation and in some ways, yeah. Some of the henchmen-villain tropes are also like this. But I also think the idea of Brian tucking the Brianbots into their sleeping places, reading a calculus book to them, and then they all just never mention it again and act like it never happened is funny. They would be baffled at the idea if it was ever brought up.

In summary: The Brianbots balance off of Brian. They're the inept henchmen to his comically over-the-top plans. Although they are far from being standard cogs, it works out better for everyone anyways (because who else would go along with whatever Brian tries to do).

Ok that's all I can think of. Collect my 8 rambles.

As a gift for reading (or skimming) through all of this. You can get my Desk Jockey / Brianbot voiceclaims that has notes that are just reiterations of what's above.

I was going to put together a voiceclaim video but I need to find 2 more. So have this in the meantime. you might see it again later. okbye

[paganminiskirt]

I love reading your analyzing of Coyle. I wondered if you had any thoughts on his sexuality? (I mean I have a damn spread sheet myself, but you're so much better at words and really great at psychoanalyzing lol). I've described him as being "the straightest gay man I've ever seen" to a few people now and eventually the "get" it.

(CW: discussions of canon typical sexual and racial violence, slavery, internalized homophobia, domestic violence and femicide. One of the linked videos also discusses fascism using disturbing transphobic rhetoric as an example.)

Thank you for your kind words, it’s really nice to know my ramblings are resonating with someone! Discussion should be allowed to emerge naturally, but I think much of the debate that arose from the revelation of Coyle’s character was removed from the context of the oppressed groups being commented on by the text. I say that mainly in reference to people of color, since the KKK represents a cultural trauma which is inextricably attached to blackness, but the statement applies to queer people as well. That very Klan was almost extinguished in the 1870s until it was revitalized half a century later by a film, of all things: media is obviously important. There’s much more that can be, and to an extent needs to be, said about this story beyond rehashing “it is/is not okay to hornypost about this” ad nauseam.

So let’s get this out of the way: I think Coyle was deliberately being written as queer. The ethics of incorporating LGBT characters in a setting so obsessed with the grotesque are questionable (you can read more perspectives on that here and here,) but I think there was intention behind the decision to depict him this way, whether it's "good representation" or not.

One of his defining traits is that he habitually deploys lewd, effeminate language to intimidate and dehumanize his victims: “alluring piglet,” “honey,” “beautiful/sexy b*tch,” “darling,” “sweet, ripe young things" and the like. You could argue that is solely a degradation tactic rather than a direct indicator of his sexual preference, and he does seem to do it primarily to scare you. But a big part of the horror in Kill the Snitch is that Coyle is very unembarrassed about how much pleasure he gets out of subjecting you to that degradation. (“You lick my boot, maybe I let you up.”) The innuendo he taunts the Reagents with is unaffected by their gender presentation, and The Snitch is a fixed character presented as a cis man who Coyle treats with just as much aggressive leeriness. From there, it's difficult to interpret him as straight. 

And since Coyle is one of the main villains of the game, I think I would be remiss if I argued that his bi/pansexuality is a thematically insignificant byproduct of his broader characterization as a sadist. That conclusion certainly presents itself: even if his queerness is loudly implied, it isn’t commented on directly by the text the way other aspects of his character are, like racism and uxoricide. The closest we get to a clear, unmistakable identification of his sexuality comes in the form of his aforementioned attitude towards The Snitch. 

While the Reagents are interchangeable grunts, The Oogie Boogie Man Snitch is Coyle's own prisoner, and as such we witness him compound the usual routine of sexualized cruelty with repeated assertions of possession, calling him things like “toy” “mine” and “property” to emphasize a sense of ownership. He comes completely undone when the Reagents electrocute him to death, exploding into thwarted, miserable rage like a kid watching their sandcastle get kicked to shit (“No! FUCKING NO! He was mine!”) and throwing out all of his beliefs at once as this jumbled, fascistic mess; “anarchist pinko fucks” this and “country’s going to shit” that.

Perhaps the most telling line about their dynamic is this one: “Jesus Christ you look like my second wife, you know that? Spittin' image. Woman got me 'bout as hot as Missouri asphalt.” The only time we see how Coyle interacts with people on an even playing field is in the files, when it’s mentioned that he killed two of his fellow soldiers when serving in the army & brutalized a murkoff agent interviewing him. The social dominance he has over people like The Snitch and his wives seems to be the only way he’s capable of conducting interpersonal relationships on a vaguely emotional level. Otherization, fuckability, and the need for corrective shame/subordination are all intertwined in Coyle's head, muddling together to form his notion of natural hierarchy: one which is incoherent, self-serving, and more about appearances than anything else. (“I know what you did. I just need to hear you say it.”)

And the importance placed on appearances isn’t just something that Leland happens to believe. In the era when this game takes place, the electric chair was at peak popularity as a form of “humane” capital punishment: in reality, it was a callous technological repackaging of the methods of execution which came before it, namely the (distinctly racialized) hanging/lynching. These methods were designed to reinforce social hierarchy by staging voyeuristic displays of dehumanization, and were levied with particular barbarism against people of color. There’s a catalog of horror stories I could insert here about white supremacy and the electric chair, but that’s another post entirely. What I want to establish is that:

A. It's easy to interpret The Snitch’s execution (and the Reagent’s forced participation in it) as a symbolic enforcement of Murkoff’s construction of social dominance, akin to capital punishment or lynching/state sponsored terrorism. B. Men like Coyle were categorically responsible for orchestrating executions like the one in the game, and the fact that he gets so angry and addled about it even though he’s ostensibly a follower of their doctrine speaks to the nature of his ideology. 

Though a lot of real world topics get touched on by Coyle's dialogue, it certainly isn’t 100% down-to-earth social critique. Many of his lines invite you to laugh at him (“It's hurtful when you disrespect the badge. I have feelings, too”/”Ain't you slicker'n a can of mashed assholes”) and his crimes themselves are, at times, overblown and ridiculous. He's a caricature of institutional violence and injustice, not a straight faced example of it. No, the realistic part of Coyle’s storyline is how the power structures of 1950s America both protected him from consequences and deliberately encouraged him to degenerate. I’ve alluded to this before: it’s one of my favorite things about Trials.

He was sent to military school because of his violent tendencies and joined the marines to avoid investigation after killing his first wife, but once he had the Police Department to shield him his behavior escalated in severity so much so that it attracted the attention of an even worse organization. The process was Military School → Ku Klux Klan → Marines → Police Department → Murkoff. This facet of the story was always there, but the newly released comic really hammers in the point, that Coyle - infantile, nonsensical, vulgarly abusive and utterly unworthy of authority - was never a barely tolerated outlier or a well kept secret within the systems he budded up from. The files directly attach his klan involvement to police work even as he's described as a “good cop:” because there were no good cops in Blackwell, because good cops aren’t real. US Law Enforcement can be traced back to early southern slave patrols, they've had a handshake agreement with the Klan for decades, and you need look no further than the recent Minneapolis Police Department exposé to see how they operate in the modern world - and this game is set sixty years before 2023. Horrifying, yeah?

Understanding cops themselves to be fundamentally immoral and unjust, by the time we meet him in the game, Coyle isn’t even a competent cop in terms of his willingness to enact unjust aims. Yes he is brutal, yes he is racist, yes he clings to the childish, cowardly belief in immutable superiority found in actual modern fascists - but the ouroboros of psychosexual issues driving him to behave the way he does take precedence over his purported devotion to any belief system, to such a degree that he isn’t even acting in explicit defense of an institution anymore. That job, to defend the current institution, is what the Reagents are being trained for: the same ones he deems subhuman and, most tellingly, “perverted.”

One thing that makes Coyle’s whole presence in Kill The Snitch  so surreal and disorienting is how manufactured and aimless his job as The Snitch’s defender really is. The man play acts an interrogation of someone who will never see trial, referencing vice squads, courts and elections that are nowhere to be found in the Sinyala facility - even though a different line of his mentions how they “don’t favor courts in these parts.” So, he’s directly contradicting himself. When the Snitch dies, he goes “NO! NO! I'll never... God DAMNIT,” not even finishing his own sentence about what it is he apparently needed The Snitch for.

The man obviously thinks otherwise, but he’s a make-believe cop, a test dummy for trainees to be pitted against ala shencomix’s professional hater. Though nowhere near as disenfranchised, Coyle is a puppet in Murkoff’s trials as much as the Reagents are, all his nasty, grandiose rhetoric ultimately amounting to hot air: and unlike the Reagents, this does not end with him being reborn. He lacks the overarching purpose of eventual service to a greater cause that they have.

And therein lies the self-destroying prophecy inherent to his understanding of reality. You can argue that Coyle is aware (subconsciously or otherwise) that there exists the potential for him to be otherized, and by extension subordinated, for an immutable part of himself which is directly attached to his sexuality and masculinity. I’d be surprised if he wasn't, considering how loudly the prejudices of the culture he arose from are relayed to the audience. The fear that comes from that knowledge gives birth to an obsession with categorism, shame, and “justice:” which he rationalizes as an immutable aspect of reality by connecting it with the natural phenomenon of lightning. (“I used to stand in a storm and watch the lightning strike the plains and I would think, "well there you go." That's justice. Sometimes the finger of God reaches down and touches you. But you never know which finger it is you're gonna get.”)

This leads to violence which he is constantly rewarded for: and because it’s the only viable outlet he has for exercising those very issues which he was trying to avoid confronting in the first place… he overindulges. Loses all interest in presenting the rhetoric coherently, in favor of chasing the immediate release that cruelty provides with ever-increasing vigor. (Funny how he calls the Reagents “dope addicted” too. Mr. Sony VPL strikes again!)

But in the end, Coyle is worthless. He’s a tool, designed to be overcome. It's a similarly symbolic, utilitarian role to that of The Snitch, which potentially feeds into his perverse sense of protectiveness over him, but the people who are coming out the other end of this with a job to do in the real world are the Reagents. People he looks down on, people he terrorizes, people he’s so desperate to bend to his will. He’s like... white chauvinism revealed as senseless, small and disgusting, condemned to chase its own tail & buckle under its own weight no matter how hard it shakes it's fist at the sky. 

And in a series so fixated on delusion and the disintegration of the self, the nugget of reality within that was thrilling to see on screen. 10/10, would cringe at again.

[wheres-my-pencil]

(read more for a short pseudo-fic?? that i wrote kinda by accident?? it's kinda shit and doesn't have anything about stanley and it's mostly just describing a half baked idea but have it if you want. also this has definitely been done before but whatever)

au where the narrator, unbeknownst to stanley, finds out that he can be physically affectionate in a form that stanley can't see or feel.

after countless careful testing of stanley's reactions to confirm this, he starts to casually sort of. walk side by side to him and brush their hands together.

after a few hundred resets, he's at a point where he constantly holds hands (phases them through each other) with stanley as he yammers on as usual. sometimes he floats around him in circles and studies the folds in his clothes and the way stanley moves, still blabbering about, until, carefully, he leans reeeal close to stanley's face. he takes in every wrinkle and dimple, every reflection across his eyes, and watches the way his character model's hair sways a little as he walks, still pretending to have some sort of strong opinion about whatever he's talking about. once again, he starts to do this regularly.

when stanley happens to look at something that lines up their eyes to seem like eye contact, the narrator gets all freaked out and goes strangely quiet. he makes up some excuse (let's see here.. the next door is .. hmm .. .. (the first time it happened he actually did get them both lost)), and the next few times it happens, he starts rambling faster, trips over his words, and flusters himself in his own monologue.

after another few hundred resets he calms down and gets used to the fake-outs and gradually forgets it was ever even a worry.

during one reset in this peaceful phase, the narrator hugs him from behind, wraps his arms over his shoulders and around his chest, and sighs somewhat like a dog as he rests the underside of his chin on stanley's shoulder.

of course, sighs of yearning and disappointment sound similar enough that this one fit nicely for his current monologue. in fact, he starts getting so caught up with sarcastically praising stanley for staying in the employee lounge for more than two whole minutes, that as he leans into his face, yawning mid-sentence from the pseudo-warmth of stanley's neck and left cheek, he doesn't even notice that stanley has not only stayed in the same room, but hasn't moved an inch for the past five minutes.

worse yet, the narrator only finally realized when he happened to look up admiringly again, and nearly flew across the room at the sheer intensity of stanley's eyes staring dead into his own. he paused his berating. he didn't even have an excuse prepared, and he wouldn't need one, considering how stanley's first movement after the narrator's nearly endless stream of complaining was to turn to look at him where he hovered slightly above the floor, somewhat disheveled and panicked.

that's all i got for now fhdwds

[department-of-landing-strategies]

So initially this was supposed to happen after I did pre-canon stuff for at least Marcus and Audrey but I have more motivation right now to do this so now presenting Pre-Canon (and touching on a bit of canon and post canon) headcanons for Percy Weasley:

Despite what others thought, Percy was the second parent to the family and not Bill. When Molly lost her brothers, she ended up in a state where she only managed consistently to be able to cook dinner. Percy decided to take the parenting responsibility on himself, which Bill was thankful for, partly to try and avoid processing the loss of his uncles. Since he couldn't really do much in terms of cooking, Percy enlisted Charlie to help make food. A system got formed that involved Percy parenting his younger siblings that stayed even after Molly got more involved and Charlie left for Hogwarts. The system only got thrown out the window and into a pit of fire when Percy left for Hogwarts.

Percy saw his Uncle Fabion and Uncle Gideon as father figures more than he saw Arthur as a father figure. This happened because Percy was around his uncles more than his father during the war, which left parenting Percy to Fabion and Gideon more often than not. After the war, Arthur tried to parent Percy, but Percy refused to let it happen partly because he saw it as Arthur trying to take over Fabion's and Gideon's jobs. Arthur gave up trying to parent Percy, and their bond never really developed much even as Percy got older.

Despite looking up to both Bill and Charlie, Percy was always closer with Charlie. Besides Charlie helping Percy parent their younger siblings, both found each other the best to listen to each others rambles. As a result, Charlie knows a lot of magical laws and Percy knows a lot about a lot of magical creatures.

Percy looked like a mini male version of Molly with some of Arthur's attributes. As a result, Percy looked really similar to Fabion and Gideon. After the first wizarding war, it Molly a while to be able to look at Percy because half of the time when she looked at Percy she would see one of her brothers.

Percy's accidental magic was illusion and apperation based. Whenever Percy would read a book to one of his younger siblings, there was a chance that an illusion would encompass the room and change depending on what the part of the book Percy was currently reading was describing. As for Percy's accidental apparitions, when the Burrow would get too loud, Percy would usually apparate to the roof of the Burrow. If the rest of his siblings were playing Quidditch when it happened, however, Percy would apperate to Muriel's house because her house was always quieter than the Burrow was when Quidditch was involved. With gaining a wand, the illusions were harder to stop than the apperations.

Percy has an attachment to stuffed animals. It started with a black dragon plushie he named Nyx that ended up being one of the last things Fabion and Gideon gave him. Throughout his time at Hogwarts, mostly during the first four years, the most common gift Penny, Oliver, Audrey, and Marcus got Percy was some sort of plushie, which led to Percy gaining a collection of something he had almost all positive memories towards. Percy gained a Gryffindor coloured dragon plushie to add to the collection from the twins after the war as a gift meant to try and start to make amends.

Percy and the twins got along better than they did in canon before any of them went to Hogwarts. The twins jealously of several of their siblings that weren't Percy (mostly Ron) for taking Percy's attention from them meant it always had some cracks. It only started to get bad the summer after Percy's first year, and the twins started to aim their pranks at Percy to try and keep Percy's nkw more limited attention in them

Percy didn't initially want to go into a job at the MoM. If you asked what job Percy wanted to do before Percy's third year, you'd get an answer along the lines of a creative job or a job that involves divination.

Percy used to do art. His best part of the process was the sketch and the line art. That's not to say he was bad at colour. It's just that he was more experienced with sketches than full coloured pieces. He decided to hide his supplies after Molly, either accidentally or on purpose, burned some sketches. Percy stopped after Charlie accidentally caused a fire in his room that took most of Percy's art supplies and some of Charlie's school stuff. He only got back into it after the war aince it helped work through some feelings

Percy was the only one who got told in person about Charlie going to Romania. Charlie's plan was to explain that he was going to Romania and then apologise for destroying Percy's supplies. Percy lashed out and stormed off from the conversation before Charlie could apologise. As a result, Charlie decided to explain the Romania bit through a letter (rip Bill's mail that month) and apologise for the fire to Percy in a separate letter.

When Bill left, Percy was the one that sent him letters. Initially, it started as two letters a month, which capped at a side of parchment. After the twins showed up to Hogwarts, it became once a month letters that occasionally needed a second sheet of parchment. The letters turned to only happening in extreme cases of concern or in case of celebatory news when Ron started Hogwarts before being cut entirely after the fight with Arthur.

Percy can see thestrals thanks to Fabion and Gideon. He had a breakdown about it when he and Oliver got in their dorms that night. The breakdown was fuelled by every emotion that Percy bottled up since the Weasleys lost Fabion and Gideon.

[hugsandchaos]

Okay, so I’m not the biggest fan of the mlp x dp crossovers, but I’m still going to rant about both versions of this very neat idea. And when I say “both versions”, I mean the idea of Danny turning into a pony and the very few fics where he doesn’t.

Idea A

Danny keeping his regular human/ghost form leaves so many unexplored possibilities in my opinion, specifically how he’s introduced. It could be a good ol’ accidental summoning or he could be a new friend of Discord’s. With the first one, it could take place anywhere, which means that we could plop him down in the Everfree Forest, the Crystal Empire, Canterlot, Appleloosa (I think I spelled that right), anywhere! With the second, maybe he was trying to escape the GiW as usual and Discord helped him, or maybe he decided to introduce him to the princesses after it was decided he’d be the king of the Ghost Zone in the future, essentially making him a prince in the meantime. And I can’t stress enough how much I love, love, love this one, but how cool would it be if he had ties to the Everfree Forest because of his existence as a Halfa?!

I’ve always had the idea that a human character would have very small and subtle “ties” to the Everfree because some of the stuff that happens in there happens in our world. Like how when Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Applejack all mentioned that clouds moving, animals taking care of themselves, and plants grown all on their own is unnatural. Knowing this and yet still seeing creatures made of, heavily relying on, or having magic hints that it’s a place that follows some of the laws of our world and some of the rules of their rules, but not quite leaning more towards one of them. Can you see where I’m going with this? Danny’s existence as half dead, half alive, both and neither at the same time is like a more sentient, “living” example of the Everfree Forest! Can you see where my excitement is coming from?!

Idea B

Not exactly as excited about this version as Idea A, but I still love it! I’m going to take this chance to ramble about my own ideas for Tucker and Sam being there, too.

Staying true to the “goth” look she seems to love, I’d love to see her as a bat pony! We’ve already seen what the body outline would look like thanks to Flutterbat, and one of my favorite little details that I want to keep is that her bat wings were twice the size of Pegasus wings. Her coat is obviously black, along with her hair, but her mane and tail would have a pink and/or purple streak. Surprisingly, this new form doesn’t bother her too much because she liked how she looked, but getting used to it was a pain. Unfortunately, this also involved having more sensitive hearing, smell, and eyesight, which gave her more than a couple headaches and sensory issues. No, the fangs aren’t for tearing through flesh, they’re for fruits and veggies. She’d somehow gain the ability to better tell which fruits and veggies are safe for consumption even if they look fine, and even separate the sweetest ones from the rest. I can’t remember much of her, unfortunately, so for now I’ll say her cutie mark is an image of a few vegetables or the recycle mark?

Tucker would be an earth pony, and as a meat lover, he’d have half a meltdown over the fact that he can’t digest it. At least not much at once, or without it being very carefully prepared. Sam laughed, Danny tried to comfort him. Surprisingly, though, they’d come to realize while only meat isn’t the best option for his health, he can apparently digest more than the average pony, and a few of his teeth were slightly more built for this as well! So while his new diet his largely fruits and veggies now, he can still enjoy a few ribs. He’s also considered very intelligent because of his knowledge about handling technology. His cutie mark is an old phone with green wisps circling it.

Finally, Danny. Just like as a human, he has a living form and a ghost form. His living form resembles an earth pony with a tan coat and a black mane and tail, but his ghost form is an alicorn as a symbol of his status as both a halfa and prince of the Ghost Zone. His living form doesn’t have a cutie mark, but his ghost form has a black crown with green flames on his flank. This is a silent hint of how the incident changed his existence. When he’s in his ghost form, the terrifying creatures of the Everfree Forest and pony urban legends recognize his power and back away from him, so he’s starting to use that form a lot more often to keep his friends safe. Now for a couple extra headcanons!

•The whole “terrifying creatures of the Everfree Forest and pony urban legends recognize Danny’s power and back away from him” thing applies to both idea A and idea B, but they’d be more wary of him in idea A because they’ve never seen a human

•With idea B, Applejack might not let Sam into her orchard at first because of the vampire fruit bat incident, but later gets confirmation that she’s not exactly vampiric

•With idea B, Sam seems to be very, very slowly slipping towards a more nocturnal sleep schedule

•In both ideas, they get a bunch of stares from ponies for obvious reasons (in Idea B, it’s because Sam is a bat pony, Tucker eats more meat than most ponies, and Danny either doesn’t have a cutie mark or is in his alicorn form)

•In idea B, Sam and Danny would practice flying at the same time and Tucker would set up a tarp or something underneath

•In idea B, the trio might feel a little stupid for asking questions like how to do magic or fly when they’re almost as big as the mane six, but they’re surprisingly accepting of them asking for help since they’ve told them that they don’t remember having anyone to teach them how to do these things until now (Twilight and Rainbow Dash especially love to each them)

•In idea B, when Twilight casually mentioned having a couple experiments for Danny (because of his two forms), he froze in terror and Tucker immediately jumped in to protect him (Sam wasn’t there), but then she said something like “I’m just going to put a thermometer in your mouth and see if there’s a difference between your forms” and they both calmed down, but now they’re a “little” worried about worse experiments happening to Danny

•In idea B, Sam was also “experimented on”, as in they’d test her senses and discover how they’re better than the average pony’s

[rysko]

Kings of Spades - Part 2 l Luca Changretta x M!OC

Summary: Juliusz really isn't looking forward toward talking to the Shelby family, before he does that however, he visits an old acquaintance before leaving London.

Previous chapter Next Chapter

Warnings: Peaky-typical swearing

A/N: Couldn't wait till next week to post the second chapter here, since the first one is just a bit of a taste. There isn't much Luca here, but he'll be back next time with a blast :* Make sure to have fun! Juliusz isn't having any! <333

The only sound in the hotel room is the echo of a door crashing.

“Dovremmo mandare qualcuno a seguirlo?” Matteo suggests, looking at the closed door.

“No,” Luca says, almost too fast. “I’ve got my own eyes on him.”  He steals a look through the window, and a cruel smile graces his face as he sees Ferenz’s state. It’s pointless to send someone after him now, Changretta’s men won’t get through to Small Heath. 

Now it’s three people in the Shelby family he’s got a hold on, well, maybe two and a half, Michael Gray can’t rally do scrap tied to a bed. But both Polly and Julius are willing to put Tommy out of his misery for the boy’s safety, so he’ll keep a special eye on him. Especially since even the lawyer seems to care for the Gray boy, despite them not being related, maybe he could be of use after all… 

One of his men walked in, Angelo, as far as he could remember, a more distant cousin of his. He laid down a stack of papers on Luca’s desk, amongst many others.

“They were supposed to be here an hour ago.” Changretta picks up one of the files and points it at Angelo.

“We had trouble with the cops, stopped us to check documents.” He replies, almost too casually. Luca only mumbled something under his nose in Italian, dismissing his soldier.

Left alone in the room, the last strands of the evening sun peek through the thick curtains and fall on an old file.

JULIUSZ T. FERENZ

Luca opens it with a small hum, takes a sip of barely tolerable English coffee, and starts reading.

***************************************

He was lucky to put in a favour from Solomons, though it was less of a usual favour and more of a “please let me get myself presentable and get me a train to Birmingham without asking any questions” favour. Surprisingly, one of his workers only shrugged and let him in the bakery the lawyer used to work at. As soon as Juliusz came in, Solomons greeted him in his usual work attire. The Pole smiled at him slightly as his ex-boss patted him on his back way too hard for his wounded body. 

“You look like shit, mate.” Solomons poured him a hefty amount of rum, which Juliusz gratefully took and downed in one gulp, to Alfies’ disapproval. 

“I know.” He sighed.

“And I mean, more like shit than usual, because usually you look like a normal shit, the kind of shit that a healthy dog leaves, you know? It’s still crap, but it’s healthy and presentable.” Alfie rambles, as usual. “Now y’look like a shit that you step on a rainy fucking day, you can see bits of blood on it and everything.” He points lazily in Juliusz’s direction.

“I…have no comment.” He sighs, though smiling unwillingly, feeling oddly at home in this illegal distillery. How he missed the chaos and the sheer utter madness Alfie Solomons gave to the table. All those years ago when Juliusz came to Britain, working for a group of Jewish gangsters wasn’t on his list, but that’s what happens when money from defending petty criminals and women that want to divorce their shitty husbands isn’t enough. Because of Alfie Solomons, he then saw an opportunity at Shelby Company Limited, which could finally let him be a registered law advisor, while still having satisfying profits.

“Well that’s fucking unusual mate, you are supposed to give comments, no? It’s all you learn in lawyer school, right.” This earned a snort from Juliusz.

“I guess you can say that.” He was feeling slightly better, maybe because of the rum slowly warming up his body, or the distraction in the form of a conversation with Alfie.

“So what, we stitch you up real nice and send you back to the man that took my best lawyer away from me? What’s Tommy got you up to in London anyway, looks like you got jumped or what?” He rambled on, and Juliusz felt he didn’t have the right head for comprehending everything Alfie said, despite the monologues being welcome, he felt a migraine coming.

“I had some personal business, Mr. Solomons, nothing you should worry about.” He let out. God, he’s so fucking tired. He feels like he can’t look down, or else he’ll see bloody hands and bruises, which is nothing good to see if he doesn’t want to have a breakdown in front of his ex-employer.

“Oh, of course, be my fucking guest mate, you show up at my door looking like a used-up ladies' pad and I'll turn a fucking blind eye, sure,” Alfie grumbled in an exaggerated voice as he took out a rag from his apron, downing it in the same rum he offered Juliusz beforehand. “That was sarcasm on my part.” He clarified shortly before reaching and tapping the rag over some deeper wounds on his ex-employee's face, hands, and upper body.

“Yes, yes I know.” Juliusz flinched each time he felt the cold material on his skin. “As much as I appreciate your help, I got this, if it calms you, I’ll make sure Thomas gets wind of what happened. He’ll send you compensation for materials and the train ticket from my paybook.”

“A few pounds’ worths of rag and rum aren’t hurting my pocket, mate. You saved me thousands in legal fees back in the day anyway, right, like when these fuckers from the government-” Juliusz drowned out every possible sound as he closed his eyes, only feeling the occasional wet feeling of a rum-drenched rag and the low rumble of a friends’ voice.

A longer moment passed between them, after which, Juliusz felt a few pats on his knee.

“All set, you’ll live another day, eh fancypants?” Alfie looked at him with his usual raised eyebrows and pursed lips.

“You know, Mr. Solomons, back in the day I thought you didn’t like me.” Juliusz leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, trying to relieve his neck.

“True it is.” 

He stammered. “Wh- Really? How come you’re helping me now?”

“I don’t like YOU, I think you’re a fucking smartass mug, right. But you were one of mine back in the day, and I have standards for my employees. You never caused trouble for me.” Solomons busied himself with cleaning up their makeshift medic’s office, after a few seconds, he turned around to meet Juliusz’s gaze again. “Also, from one jewish sodomite to the other, I don’t think we should make our lives more difficult than they are, right? Now get back to Tommy and your work, and don’t get involved in London business that gets you jumped, eh?” It sounded more like an order, than a question when they finally reached the exit on Bonny Street.

“Of course, thank you, Alfie.” Juliusz nodded and bid him goodbye, off to the train back to Birmingham and to a conversation he really wasn’t looking forward towards.

                                   ***************************

Tommy was trying to work, he really was, but between Polly looking at him unamused and Arthur's pacing there was no way in hell he could focus. He put his pen down and leaned back in his chair, taking out a cigarette from his jacket’s inner pocket, halfway through lighting it, he saw Finn approaching the office door. Polly looked over her shoulder, while Arthur finally stood in place, but still appeared on edge.

“His flat’s empty.” These were the first words that came from Finn as soon as he opened the door. “No message, all his suitcases empty. But it doesn’t seem like anyone broke in.” 

This earned a deep sigh from Tommy, accompanied by a loud curse from Arthur, Polly said nothing, her eyes still on a shaken Finn.

“Tommy, you think they-” Finn blurted out.

“I don’t know. I already sent some boys all over Birmingham.” Tommy said in an exhale, cigarette smoke spewing out of his mouth as well as words. This didn’t seem to calm Arthur.

“Are they looking for Julius, or his body, huh Tommy?” He said, an angry kind of annoyance in his voice as he glared at his younger brother.

“Would they do it so quietly?” Polly remarked, seeming more curious than concerned. “Maybe they want us to find the company lawyer in a ditch somewhere, like a spit in the eye.” She took a sip of whiskey that had been sitting for far too long, grimacing at the taste.

“They’d show us, Changretta is set on showing us…Me,” Tommy explained, which only seemed to upset Finn and Arthur, the oldest Shelby punched the table he was leaning against in frustration. “Arthur, calm-”

“DON’T tell me to calm down!” Arthur snapped at Tommy, taking a few steps toward his desk, and pointing at his younger brother angrily. “you’re sitting here waiting for him to fucking show up and keeping me here-”

“There’s nothing else we can do Arthur. They want to get us angry and to follow them-” Tommy raised his voice, gesticulating to make his point clearer. 

“First they kill John, and now I have to wait until I find my friend’s body floating in The fucking Cut?!” Arthur slams his palms on Tommy’s desk, business cards and pens flying. They’re interrupted by Polly’s voice.

“Boys!” She almost screams to get their attention. “The phone.” The telephone across the room was ringing, Polly looked at Tommy like she was waiting for him to do something. Tommy stood up and waltzed over to the phone.

“Yes?” He sighed, this better not be factory business, or Changretta calling to let Tommy know that he’ll find his employee's head in a suitcase, he pondered which was worse. 

“Tommy, how’ve you been mate?” An all too familiar voice rings on the other side of the telephone.

“This isn’t the best time Alfie.” Tommy rubs his temple, annoyed, but slightly more relaxed. The mention of Solomon’s name made the already on-edge Arthur groan out a frustrated ‘for fuck’s sake’.

“It’s always ‘not the best time’ with you eh, Tommy? You send letters, call whenever you have the time, and think ‘Oh, I’ll call my dearest friend Tommy to see how he is’ and what you hear in return is that kind of bollocks talk. You know Tommy, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re not a gipsy bloke, but a typical Jewish woman, right?” Tommy, frankly, had no words, only staring at the wall wondering where Alfie was going with all this. “So, what do you need?” 

Tommy paused, perplexed. “...You called me Alfie.”

“Oh, well, I'm just letting you know I sent over your lost bun on the train to Birmingham, right? Quite beaten up he was, I didn’t think I’d get a visit from him anytime soon.” Solomons explained, surprisingly casually.

“Lost…” Tommy’s brows furrowed, confused. After a short moment, he realised what the Jewish gangster meant. “You saw Julius?”

Everyone in the room perked up, getting a glimpse of what Tommy might be talking about. Arthur moves closer, wanting to hear what Solomons is talking about and why he’s seen his friend, but Tommy stops him.

“I did, yeah. Listen, mate, I don’t know what you feed him over there, but he needs more than that. Back in London, right, I had my cousin slip some extra latkes into his bag when he came into the office. You know what latkes are, right? Juliusz likes them ‘cause they make them back in dumpling land as well, anyway-” Usually, Tommy would happily endure one of Solomons’s tangents, but he’s got other things on his plate right now, more important than delicious potato pancakes, he imagines.

“I’ll call you back Alfie.” He cuts off, promptly setting the telephone down. “I guess we’re waiting for him to show up, eh Arthur?” He looks up at his brother, eyebrows raised in a smug victory.

****************************** 

“Tommy asked to see you,” Linda didn’t even look up from the betting book, checking over what seemed to be some math Lizzie was doing.

“Oh really?” Juliusz asks, sarcastically, trying his best to seem all right and put together. The few hours he sat on the train didn’t help. The only thing he thought about was those Italians, the oldest Changretta’s deal and the still everpresent taste of blood in the back of Juliusz’s throat that didn’t seem to have been washed out by the rum. He takes a step towards Tommy’s office but stops, first taking out a tiny blue bottle, out of which a small dose of a white powder falls onto his thumb. 

“Tommy isn’t going to like you using snow.” Linda mused, earning a scoff from the lawyer as he rubbed the powder on his gums.

“Oh hush, don’t pretend you’re not snorting it after you finish your rosary for the day.” Juliusz looks over to her and sees the woman unamused. 

“Well, he doesn’t care if I do it. Plus I ran out, with Michael in the hospital.” She shrugs. Ah, the kid, he really needs to visit him after this.

“Here, knock yourself out.”  He tosses the bottle to her, which she catches. “Keep it between us, and Michael probably.” he clears his throat and heads for Tommy’s office, Juliusz’s head just a smidge clearer.

Before he can even touch the door, it’s swung open by Polly, who pulls him inside to find Thomas, Arthur and Finn patiently waiting. Suddenly it’s hard to speak, or more so, start the fucking sentence Juliusz was building during the whole train and car ride to Small Heath. 

“Thomas, I was-” He starts, throat dry.

“In London, we know.” He interrupted, nodding in the general direction of the phone. “Italians?” 

“Yes.” Juliusz sits on an opposing armchair. “Got me outside of the office, in broad daylight.”

“Fucking hell.” Finn blurted out, probably more to himself than anyone else.

No one said anything, Juliusz felt everyone’s gaze on him, some worried, some suspicious or curious. 

“Changretta wants me to spy for him.” He breathes out, looking at Tommy intently. “He offered my life, for yours.” Another silence. Thomas said nothing, looking at Juliusz almost emptily. After a long drag of a cigarette, which to the Pole lasted almost an eternity, Tommy spoke.

“You agreed?” Juliusz couldn’t decide if Tommy’s tone was a genuinely asking one or a cold accusation.

“It didn’t seem like I had any other fucking choices.”  He explained himself, what else could he do? If he spat in Luca’s face like he internally wanted to, he’d be draining out of his split neck already. “So what now?” 

“Now, we do nothing,” Tommy said like it’s the most obvious thing he’s ever said.

“What?” 

“You agreed. You’re going to see Changretta and convince him you’re on his side, then feed him what we want him to think,” Tommy explains in one big exhale, gesticulating with his hand holding the almost-ending cigarette.

Juliusz looked around the office, dumbfounded. No one else objected, Polly was looking between him and Thomas, one eyebrow raised in consideration. Arthur definitely wasn’t pleased, but only nodded slightly and rested his gaze on the floor. Finn, genuinely, looked like he had no idea what he was still doing here. 

“Thomas, are you mad?! If he gets wind of this my head will be on a fucking spike!” He rose from his seat, ribs aching from the quick change of position, but he didn’t care. Changretta isn’t stupid, Tommy seems to underestimate him.

“All our heads will if we don’t play all the cards handed to us.” Tommy’s stern voice rises.

“So I’m a fucking card now? Just like John’s funeral?” Juliusz is not sure if what he’s feeling is frustration, anger, fear, helplessness, or everything all at once. 

“You can still leave Birmingham, be my guest, but your name is written on a bullet too.” Polly jumps into the conversation. 

“Fuck.” He lets out, slumping down in his seat once again. “I’m not dancing with Luca goddamn Changretta, Thomas,” Juliusz says in a rough, tired tone.

“Listen, the fact that you’re still alive means Changreta sees use in you, John didn’t get that chance.” Tommy leans forward in his chair, his calculating piercing blue eyes meeting Juliusz’s green ones. “If we want to get out of this alive, we need everything we got, even if it means putting our necks on the line.”

“Contact him, meet in a public place. Agree to his terms and make him trust you.” Polly adds, like a teacher schooling a young lad, Juliusz has seen it before when she lectured Tommy. “You’re not a Shelby, it’s more logical you’d want to save your skin rather than defend Tommy.” 

Weirdly, that’s what Juliusz thought before.

“It is, yet here we are.” Juliusz sighs. “Fine. I guess I do have no other choice.” It does seem a bit nonsensical to an outsider, to defend people like the Shelbys in a time like this. But one thing the lawyer has learnt when working with the Brummie gang is that after a while, shit just stops making sense.

“You'll be fine, Jul. It’s nice to have you back, eh cowboy.” Arthur pats him on the back, his good brotherly humour seemingly back. “We’ll show these wops.”

Oh, we will . It’s just that Juliusz isn’t sure what exactly it will be.

[muppetminge]

I think it’s really sad how quick people are to attribute malice to people purely on the basis of disagreement. 

Discussions around beauty culture so often end up being a case of pitting traditionally ‘feminine’ women and ‘non-feminine’ women against each other - despite the fact that this is usually not the initial intent. 

I am extremely critical of beauty culture. Flat out. I do not like make-up. I think it’s a horrible thing. I stand by this. 

I do not have anything against individual women who wear make-up. Or women who shave, or get botox, or plastic surgery or whatever. Nor do I - solely based on this - have any opinion whatsoever about how feminist or unfeminist you are. No, wearing make-up or shaving or whatever will never be a feminist action. You, as a person, can still be be - no one is ideologically pure, we are all whole, multifaceted people. That’s good, and that’s fine, and that’s how it is. You are so absoluted allowed to do things without going through the analysis - otherwise no one would ever get anything done. Something something ethical consumption or whatever, you get it.

The point with all this is, I think it’s a shame that so many seem to interpret anti-beauty rhetoric to be anti-you, as a person, or, indeed, anti-women. Because that’s exactly the opposite of the intent! I feel about this like I do, and as passionately as I do, because I love women. 

And I think it’s, mind the language, fucking bullshit how much bullshit is invented purely to prey on insecurities that don’t even have a grounding in reality! Because I promise you, your face is fine. Your skin is fine. Your body hair is fine. 

You are allowed to look like a human woman. Because that’s what these standards are about, isn’t it? Alienation from our natural form? Trying to convince perfectly normal women that something is wrong with them for ... being perfectly normal women? Because, really, why are you insecure about your hairy legs in the first place? Your perfectly normal, though non-airbrushed complexion? The signs of life, and joy, and laughter, and age on your face? The length of your eyelashes, the size of your feet, the shape of your breasts? Because it sells. Because it’s kind of genius, isn’t it, inventing shit based on fuck all so you can sell more stuff we don’t need to (over) half of the human race. Most importantly, because it takes control away from you. Because messing with your confidence and your self image makes us easier to push around; to stop us from meeting our potential (and, oh, is there anything that’s more terrifying than the thought of women being what we could be, what we have the ability to accomplish?) 

And I’m at the point of rambling now, perhaps, but there’s that. I don’t hate women who wear make-up, my beef isn’t with you. I promise you that. I’m not asking you to burn your eyeshadow palette. I’m just fucking sad this is how we are treated. That we are expected to buy into this whole illusion that there’s something wrong with us, that we’re just a sack of (fixable! buy our latest cure now!) problems in a trenchcoat. 

And I wish that more of us were better at looking in the mirror barefaced and be astonished at the beauty there, instead of feeling naked and ashamed. I wish we didn’t try to hide from each other quite so much. I wish we could just be. 

She screams at the top of her lungs, I’m whole! I’m body, I’m heart, I’m mind, I’m soul.

[robodove]

SHOW US THE PIRATE STUFF DO THE MERMAID STUFF ALKNASDAS

OKAY I FINALLY HAVE A LITTLE TIME ARRGAGRG I hope this aimless infodump is readable

so! Their designs and junk are a mess rn but I do have some stuff of them!!

Ignore the little dragon in the last I'm still working on Lloyd's whole... business. And! Don't mind the text in the pink one, I was just tryna think up silly nicknames!

Anyways! They aren't really... Traditional pirates? Y'know.. cause their crew size is like 5 + a child and ancient beast.

Under division is a small ramble

Cole's the "captain" and is a selkie (although I know they're usually seals I accidentally chose a sea lion)! He's the sea lion in the pictures and I'm desperately trying to work his skin into the design. I thought it'd be silly since he was raised in dance and entertainment.. and hey! Sea lions are known for that too!

(he wasn't meant to look so forsaken here, sorry Cole)

Jay is a mermaid (thing?) When in the water, he has the lower half reminiscent of an electric eel (I saw reminiscent as there are some major differences)! No one really has powers in this but he can still shock like that,, Ed and Edna are still human in this and I'm trying to remember if they still lived at a scrapyard or a shipyard.

Both Kai and Nya are only half mermaid! Nya ended up inheriting way more mermaid traits than her brother, who doesn't even have a tail in water, but still has a lot of human drawbacks. She can only breathe underwater for so long and ironically Kai can last down there longer. He just chooses not to since I thought it'd be funny to still let him be scared of water in this 😭 sorry Kai. He still has the recognizable sharper teeth and has bits and flashes of shimmery scales but is overall the most human of the bunch once you count out Cole's unskinned form.

I couldn't resist myself on Zane and ended up making him a siren. Mainly because.. bird! And also if he was going to be organic, I wanted to isolate him from the other sea related creatures. He has the wings and feathers of a gyrfalcon and can't swim as well in the ocean! He ends up bonding with Kai over this Kai originally hadn't liked him too much! Reasonably so since.. y'know.. sirens eat people. And mermaids in this.. although Zane eats human things as he was raised on it by a still very human Dr. Julien (who I guess is more of a bird-oriented wildlife scientist in this? ornithologist?). insert joke about him being a hand raised bird.

I don't have my sketchbook with me right now so I'm scrambling for pictures but ! Like all their designs, he's still a work in progress. Will most likely make his legs longer or something but this is just my ideas LOL

And anyways! Onto Lloyd! (And the others?)

I was struggling to decide what Lloyd should be,, like? A dragon could still very much work and his normal version is already so cool?? However, I ended up on leviathan.. a baby one. The serpentine aren't decided but Lloyd's still pretty much not taken seriously by the town. Still winds up being taken in by the "ninja!"

Garmadon is still locked up, although now at the bottom of the ocean! The Skulkin are drowned/dead pirates?

Wu is who I've been struggling to decide on as well! For whatever reason I've been contemplating making him like just some statue in the Destiny's Bounty that speaks to them.

There's plenty of other things going on,, Kai and Nya come to them on accident and Jay is over the moon to see other moons and wants to show them their "ways" despite having never even met others before. Cole is desperately trying to keep everyone in one place as they've accidentally made the perfect collection of the world's most valuable pelts.

Kai still raises Nya at the forge (which in this, is beachside), but years later there's a rise in pricing for the scales of mers and the boy decides that they need to leave in effort to protect her. Nya is devastated because this is their home! Where else would they even go?? They barely have any cash! Kai's decision is further inland AND with the money they get from selling the forge. Yadda, yadda, the buyer turns on them and they wind up in the ocean near their home! Kai's knocked cold, which is for the better as Nya swims them further and further into open ocean.

For the first time, Nya meets another mer as she tries to save her brother, and he helps them aboard a ship! The Destiny's Bounty! (Or perhaps a ship before it? It's all still up in air)

I'd expand more but I'm out of time </3 please give any suggestions if you'd like to! I'd always appreciate criticism