#they would do anything to prevent us. we are an illness

[hypnowave]

.

[todayisafridaynight]

rgg can have a You Did The Bare Minimum award for keepin jo alive and not continuin the trend of one-shottin every interestin antag we meet but they esp deserve it cause lettin jo live the rest of his days in guilt and shame without the power to do anythin is pretty thematically consistent for him. if i may be insane to say.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[quecksilvereyes]

oh my god do not click links in emails that tell you to verify your data or your bank account gets locked or click links in messages telling you your safety protocol is ending, like, tomorrow, you will get SCAMMED SO BAD AND YOU WILL LOSE A LOT OF FUCKING MONEY never ever let anyone pressure you into giving away login information especially to your online banking by creating a sense of urgency oh my GOD

some things to look out for

1. spelling mistakes. do you know how many rounds of marketing and sales experts these things go through? if theres a spelling mistake dont click it

2. not using your name. if an email adresses you with "dear customer" or, even worse, a generic "ladies and gentlemen", it is most likely not actually targeted to you

3. verifying or login links. even IF your bank was stupid enough to send these to customers, dont EVER click those. look at me. they can legally argue that youve given your data away and thus they dont have to pay you anything back DONT CLICK THAT FUCKING LINK

4. creating a sense of urgency. do this or we lock your account next week. do this or your ebanking stops working tomorrow. give us all your money in cash or your beloved granddaughter will get HANGED FOR MURDERING BABIES. no serious organisation would ever do something like that over email or sms. ever. hands off.

5. ALWAYS CHECK WHO SENT YOU THE EMAIL. the display name and the email adress can vary a LOT. anyone can check the display name. look at the email adress. does it look weird? call the fucking place it says its from. you will likely hear a very weary sigh.

6. if its in a phonecall, scammers love preventing you from hanging up or talking to other people to have a little bit of a think about whats happening. there should always be a possibility to go hey i wanna think about this ill call back the official number thanks.

7. do not, i repeat, do NOT a) call a phone number flashing on your screen promising to rid your computer of viruses after clicking a dodgy link and b) let them install shit on your computer like. uh. idk. teamviewer.

7.i. TEAM VIEWER LETS PEOPLE USE YOUR COMPUTER HOWEVER THEY WANT AS LONG AS THEYRE CONNECTED. IF YOU DONT KNOW FOR FUCKING SURE YOURE TALKING TO ACTUAL TECH SUPPORT DONT GIVE ANYONE ACCESS TO YOUR COMPUTER.

fun little addendum: did you know a link can just automatically download shit? like. a virus? an app you can't uninstall unless you reset your entire device? dont click links unless youre extremely sure you know where they lead. hover your mouse over it and check the url.

thanks.

[nolovelingers]

WHEN THEY’RE JEALOUS ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

⋆ ★ movies :: scream ,, scream v ,, scream vi

characters used ᝰ.ᐟ billy loomis / stu macher / sidney prescott / wes hicks / ethan kirsch (landry) / tara carpenter / mindy meeks martin / chad meeks martin

🎧 cw — jealousy (obvi) ,, violence and dark themes (only for the ghost faces) ,, possessiveness ,, gn!reader except for stu and mindys part !!!

——————————————————————————

ೄྀ࿐ BILLY LOOMIS ˊˎ-

billy doesn’t really get jealous often. he’s extremely self-confident in himself and knows that there really is no one better than him. he knows you wouldn’t dare leave him for another, but that doesn’t stop the occasional feeling of possessiveness creeping through his mind at the sight of seeing you with another guy.

he definitely doesn’t mention it to you, not wanting you to know that the sight got to him, even if it was only slightly, and resorts to sending a glare in the person of interests direction when you’re not facing him. the second you turn around he gives you a sweet toothy smile, both cunning and sly all the same and he makes sure to lock eyes with the person while bringing you in for a deep kiss, hand gripping your face securely as if you were a possession.

and of course, he’d send stu to kill the person later that night; not feeling like their death was worth his own time.

彡 “billy, hey.” turning to greet your boyfriend with a chastened and quick kiss to his mouth, he hums, savoring the feeling of your lips moving against his that was all too short in his opinion.

“hey doll.” the corners of his mouth itched up, a smirk creasing over his face that held mischief, a dark sense of playful fun as he observed you, eyes quickly flicking from you to the boy you were currently talking to. he looked at the kid for not longer than a few seconds before returning his stone cold gaze back to you, like the man wasn’t good enough for his eyes to settle on.

“who you talking to?” he asks, only a hint of actual curiosity lingering in his voice, meeting your eyes with his and wrapping an arm around your lower body.

“oh, this is daniel. he’s in my history class.”

billy hums, returning his eyes back to the boy, who’s name was apparently daniel, in an almost predatory way. daniel felt unease through his veins as the loomis boy studied him, and smiled a bit. “nice to meet you.” he said, and billy nodded with a straight face, suddenly holding out his hand to shake. daniel accepted the gesture, loosely shaking his hand but finding himself wincing a bit at the intensity of the blonde haired boys grip.

“im billy. (y/n)‘s boyfriend.” quick to annunciate the boyfriend bit, daniel took the hint, gulping but nodding in understandment.

“alright well, i gotta run. ill see you tomorrow.” excusing himself from the conversation, daniel walks away from the scene, shaking his hand a bit as a way to soothe some of the pain from the hand crushing grip billy had him in; and you were completely oblivious as billy smirked in victory, guiding you back to the school parking lot and quickly taking out his flip phone to text stu about their next possible victim.

ೄྀ࿐ STU MACHER ˊˎ-

unlike billy, stu is an extremely jealous cretin who quickly doubts himself when it comes to his worth in the relationship. after his very first girlfriend, casey becker, left him in the snap of her fingers for a jock, he was left to be decently insecure.

he would do anything to prevent you from having any male interaction and if he could he would have a camera on you at all times to watch you go about your day and see how you’re interacting with others who aren’t him. when he actually witnesses you talking to a guy, he’s quick to jump in.

he’s not subtle at all about it and immediately gets very touchy with you, kissing your cheek and neck in front of the dude as a ‘joke’ and goes out of his way to mock and make fun of the person in question. he will whine and beg you to leave and once you’re away from the person he asks you millions of questions, especially whether or not you were attracted to them.

just like billy, he wants the person dead and for the rest of the day all he can think about is ripping their intestines out and crucifying them to a wall. his imagination runs wild with all the ways he wanted to kill him. he asks billy about it, but billy couldn’t be bothered to care that much and unless it was really, genuinely bothering stu he’d tell him to take care of it himself. after the first three guys billy had helped stu kill all cause of his jealousy, he couldn’t be bothered anymore and he knew you would start to get suspicious. every guy you talked to was disappearing at this rate.

彡 “hey babe, who’s this?” stu jogs up to you from behind, almost crashing into your back as he slings an arm around your shoulder lazily and looks at you with a shit eating grin.

“jackson.” the man introduces himself before you can to the macher killer, and stu swivels his head to the boy. his jealousy only furthering deeper as he noticed the man to be wearing a school football uniform, a jock.

“aww, i wasn’t asking you, jason.” stu’s face falls completely and you turn to him with a devastated look, feeling embarrassed in front of your classmate. “i was asking my beautiful girlfriend.” he pulls you closer to him, his big signature wide mouth smile making its way back over his face. “dont you think she’s beautiful? isn’t she just so pretty? come on jerry you can be honest, my girlfriends hot, isn’t she?” the boys tone had drastically went from playful to deadly, like he was testing him

“stu macher, this is my english teachers teaching assistant!” you warn, your face flushing a red color at stu’s outburst but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care at all as he doesn’t even look at you, taking a bit of a step closer to the jock.

“oh, so you’re smart then, huh? well, clearly not that much, wearing something as tacky as that. you get dressed in the dark this morning?” he sticks his tongue out, laughing at his own joke and apparently thinking it was the funniest thing in the world as he starts to giggle with a crazed look in his eye, and though jackson felt offended and wanted nothing more than to step forward and suckerpunch macher right in the face, something about the way his eyes held mania and instability freaked the jock out.

he scoffed, rolling his eyes and walking away from the couple. jackson doesn’t even make it three feet away and you can’t get the words out to scold your boyfriend for his behavior before he’s turning you to face him and holding both your shoulders, a serious look on his face.

“babe, be honest with me, did you think he’s cute?”

ೄྀ࿐ SIDNEY PRESCOTT ˊˎ-

sidney was a fairly innocent girl who wasn’t used to all the feelings that came along in a relationship, and she never could quite put a label on the word she felt when she saw you talking to other girls. not every girl, just the ones who in her own eyes were particularly pretty or were openly flirty.

she found it hard to trust again after her last relationship, obviously not ending well since he killed all/most her friends and then tried to go after her, but after some time once she started to heal and you showed her love and how a healthy relationship should look and act she was quick to ease into the breath of fresh air you gave her.

she pouts a bit when she’s jealous, and she doesn’t make too big of a deal out of it. depending on her scale of jealousy she’d either mention it briefly to you so you could reassure her or she’d just make sure to be extra lovey with you the rest of the day to earn more of your love and give you extra of hers.

unlike stu or billy she doesn’t make herself present in the conversation, she’ll usually glance from a distance and maybe bring it up to her friends to ask about the girl you were talking to. not that she’d do anything with the information anyway. if she ends up meeting the girl, whether it’s while she’s with you or running into her when it’s just the two of them, she’s very friendly and would even try befriending the person to see the kind of people you surround yourself with.

彡 sidney watched from a short distance the interaction you shared with a girl who’s face was unfamiliar to her. she stood by her locker, face half hidden by the door and taking a glance in your direction every couple minutes.

she couldn’t deny that there was something about seeing you talk to another girl who in her mind was one of the most gorgeous people she’s ever seen, definitely far prettier than her, making her stomach twist and turn with uneasiness.

gnawing her lip a bit she tried to pay no mind to it, being respectful as she waited for you to finish your conversation so you could walk home together like you usually do. her patience worked as it often did, and within minutes she felt your hands snake around her back, and a sweet kiss being pressed to her temple. “hey sid.” you greeted, and she hummed, leaning her weight back into your arms.

“hi.” her voice rasped, a soft and gentle whisper and a smile made its way to her features while she turned around to face you, holding her hand out for you to take, which you gladly did.

“ready to go?”

“yeah.” she smiled, and you briskly leaned in to connect your lips with hers. her heart fluttered at the action and all her worries melted away. there was no reason to be jealous, she was definitely overreacting. she trusted you and the love you had for her.

ೄྀ࿐ WES HICKS ˊˎ-

by nature, wes was a very trusting and caring person. he’s gotten jealous maybe a total of two times throughout your entire relationship. he may have occasional worries, but it’s not typically jealousy he feels. he gets more insecure than he does jealous and reflects it on himself; wondering if he’s really good enough to be your boyfriend.

he is often very protective over you and while there are times you notice his body tense or a light touch of his hand pressed to the small of your back it’s not really jealousy he’s feeling, growing up in a household where his mother is a cop he was raised to be on high alert at all times; afraid a guy might do something to mess with you or make you uncomfortable.

however, on the very very few occasions where it’s jealousy he’s feeling rather than simple protectiveness, he seems to go eerily quiet. his eyes dart back and fourth from your face to the persons, studying your interaction and the body language you’re giving off. if asked about it he’ll brush it off as nothing and force a reassuring smile that fades the second you look away and forms again when you look back.

he won’t mention it ever again and within a few hours he’s back to his normal self. but unless you’re able to notice his jealousy the second it starts, he’s not one to talk or ask about it.

彡 the sun was shining down on the both of you as you sat outside against the tree located right outside tara’s house. you had made plans with all of your friends to have a big hangout and like usual you and your boyfriend had strayed off from the rest of the group to have some alone time.

wes was always huge on private intimacy and liked it better when it was just the two of you. not anything against his friends, he loved all of them, it was just nice to spend time with just his partner. mindy, tara and chad payed no attention as the couple wondered off outside and perched themselves against a woodsy tree. wes had his back completely against the tree, legs widened while you sat between them, your back on his chest and his head on his shoulder while he held onto your body with protective arms; his muscles flexing against you.

you were laughing at something the bleached-haired boy had said when your alone time was cut short, the sound of a door opening and chad stepping outside.

“what’re you two losers doing?” he asked, a teasing lopsided grin on his face as he approached you two after closing the door.

“hey chad, just hanging out.” you greet him with a smile and wes greets him with a ‘hey’ as well, still keeping his arms secured around you.

“mind if i join you? those two girls are kind of driving me crazy right now.” he chuckles, sitting down in front of the both of you and not paying any mind to the fact that you were both cuddled up. “(y/n), you should’ve stayed inside. mindy started recreating a scene from the mummy, it was sorta funny but made me concerned about my relations to her.” you don’t question why chad had aimed the conversation towards you but it’s enough for wes’ jaw to clench against your shoulder before he brought his head up all together and off of you.

“really? wow, im sorry i missed it.” you laugh a bit and chad smiles and laughs with you as you do. you wish you could see your boyfriends face right now as he then removed his arms from around you as well, but since you were sitting up against him you couldn’t turn around and see without making it obvious.

you try not to pay any attention to his sudden change in behavior as you continue making friendly banter with chad, noticing wes completely going mute until he dismisses himself with a toothless smile and a small apology, going back inside and leaving you and chad alone and confused.

ೄྀ࿐ ETHAN LANDRY ˊˎ-

ethan gets jealous over you almost every other day, sometimes just by simply thinking about you with someone else. he doesn’t even have to see you talk to someone, or flirt, or interact; he often accidentally makes himself jealous at the idea of being jealous. when he’s jealous he then gets flustered, and has no idea how to express the way he’s feeling.

when he actually sees someone flirting with you though, it ignites a fire in him that would sometimes scare himself. obviously he’s a violent guy, but when it comes to a potential threat between your relationship it only intensifies. he’d kill the person in the most brutal way imaginable, even torturing or fucking with them before hand.

assuming you don’t yet know about his ghostface identity, he’s still the sweet, awkward and adorable ethan youve grown to know and love. in the moment he won’t do much about it, maybe standing behind you and locking eye contact with the person, resting a hand on your hip with fragility and having mock friendliness. the second they leave though is when he gets more vocal about it, pestering you with questions and dread spilling throughout his body the more he thinks about it.

however if you were already aware of his identity he wouldn’t bother to hide his disdain, looking at the mystery person with pure unfiltered disgust and hatred as he kept you close to him and dismissed you from the conversation himself. if they dared to try and intervene or call him out on his behavior they’d better prepare for a good beating, he wouldn’t hesitate before pushing them to the ground and kicking them in the stomach and all over their body repeatedly like a typical 80s bully. he’d come back for the final kill another time when you weren’t with him.

彡 “can we go? im tired.” a very grumpy brunette mumbled from his spot next to you, defensively staring at the male you were talking to. an ‘old friend’ of yours.

“one second e,” you dismissed him without so much as a glance, continuing in your conversation with the guy in front of you. he was maybe 5’10, dark brown hair and hazel green eyes that ethan imagined running red with blood and tears. ethan could definitely take him in a fight.

he was quiet for about a whole minute before he sighs, rather loudly, glancing around the room and waiting for you to notice him. when you don’t face him at his first sigh, ethan let’s out a second huff of air, louder this time.

and you ignore him again. and he sighs again. and again. and agai-

“ethan, i swear to god.” you lecture, finally turning to face him and the guy in front of you laughs a bit at the two of you, which only makes ethan feel angrier.

“im tired. please can we go. pleasee!” he whines, articulating his best puppy dog eyes as he bats his long and dark lashes at you. and of course it works, it always does.

you agree, waving your friend goodbye who understands and sends you off with a smile. as you walk back to your dorms the questions finally roll in.

who was that guy? where’d you meet? did he go to school with the both of you? how long have you known him? what’s his relationship with his family like? do you think hes funny?

you humor him as much as you can before the questions start to get more and more invasive and you finally shut him down, leaving him with a pout as he sadly stares at the floor, making you feel bad and quickly cupping his face and peppering kisses all over. he smiles finally.

by the end of the day, none of the questions actually mattered. ethan decided already the second you approached him that he was a dead man.

ೄྀ࿐ TARA CARPENTER ˊˎ-

contrary to popular belief, tara could actually get jealous quite frequently. though it’s not as often as others on the list, she’s lost a good amount of people in her life and isn’t about to risk loosing the few she now has left.

when she’s jealous she can get snappy as well as sarcastic, to both you and the person she’s feeling jealous of. it’s either that, or she’s just sickeningly nice to both of you to mask her feelings. so sweet in fact that it’s mostly taken as being mocked by the one on the receiving end, which is usually what it is anyway.

she’ll stand by you as you converse, her arms crossed defensively and an rbf like you’ve never seen, but if you try to leave the conversation or ask her if something’s up she’ll tell you to just keep talking to the other person in an annoyed voice.

彡 “you’re so funny!” you blush a bit, embarrassed by the sudden compliment and attention you were receiving from the girl in front of you that originally only approached you for a question she had about the homework in the math class you shared.

“you’re SO funny!” behind you, an annoyed tara mocks the girl, raising her voice to sound high pitched and squeaky as she defensively held her arms crossed against her chest.

“tara,” you mumble, glancing at her expectantly and she sends you a glare, huffing and turning her head away from the both of you.

the girl in front of you awkwardly scratches her head and you give her a sympathetic smile. “thank you maria. ill see you tomorrow.” she nods, sending you an appreciative smile back before glancing at your girlfriend for a second and then quickly away as she realizes the girl was already glaring in her direction before walking away from the two of you.

you sigh, turning to face your girlfriend who still looks pissed off, a grouchy look on her face and arms crossed as she meets your eyes. “tara.” you repeat her name, saying so many things without saying another word. she sighs, dropping her arms back to her sides and looking away from you now in a bit of embarrassment.

“sorry.” she mutters, not meeting your eyes.

“no you’re not.”

she smirks a little. “no im not.”

ೄྀ࿐ MINDY MEEKS MARTIN ˊˎ-

( ↺ please only read mindys if you identify as female !! )

mindy isn’t often the jealous type and doesn’t really see many people if any at all as a threat to her. especially for no reason. the only exception for her small bursts of jealousy is when someone knows you’re dating and still goes out of their way to make a move on you.

when this happens she gets rather ticked off, probably yelling at or lecturing the person for trying to hit on someone while knowing they’re in a happy relationship. and she’ll really specify that happy bit as if to rub it in their face.

her fits don’t last very long and though she may continue to pout over it for maybe 10 minutes max afterwards all it takes is a little reassuring and she’s back to her usual self. all in all, if she’s jealous she’ll speak out about it herself.

彡 “mindy, look at me.” you instruct your girlfriend, who in fact does not look at you as she zones off into the distance with an aggravated expression.

“i do not understand how some people have the nerve. i mean seriously, she knew you had a girlfriend, she knew that girl was me, and she still went out of her way to flirt with you.” rambling on, you’re unable to get the short haired girl’s attention as she’s lost in thought.

“mindy, will you look at me?” you repeat, currently crouched down in front of her while she rocked back and fourth on a recliner.

“it’s just- it’s so frustrating! she’s such a- a- a snake!” this emits a soft chuckle to part from your lips and you finally decide to just make your girlfriend look at you instead of desperately calling out for her which didn’t seem to be working.

“i love you.” you affirm, cupping the both of her cheeks. the martin girl blushes a bit, taken off guard.

“what?”

“i love you.”

“i love you too, baby.” she smiles, and you lean up to initiate a soft kiss, her current thoughts pausing temporarily.

by the time you pull away she’s looking at you like you’re the only thing left in the world, cheekily smiling while you continue holding her face in your hands.

“sorry for making a scene back there.” she apologies, referring to back when the entire situation went down and she ended up yelling at the girl who was trying to make a move on you in the first place.

“it’s okay. it was cute. turned me on a little.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah.” you giggled, and mindy was fast to forget about the entire situation as her priorities shifted entirely to you.

ೄྀ࿐ CHAD MEEKS MARTIN ˊˎ-

depending on how long the two of you have been together is how chad would go about handling his own jealousy. if the relationship is fairly new or it’s only in the talking stage, he’s the type to go flirt with someone else to make you jealous back, even though you weren’t doing it intentionally.

if you’re about 3 months or so into the relationship though or if he’d liked you for a really long time he wouldn’t resort to that. instead he’d try his best to intimidate the person, keep an arm around you and amplify his personality.

he’d constantly interrupt the two of you rather rudely and make his own conversation, add his own thoughts or ask random questions to the stranger. he’s shameless about it too and does it all with a smile. he’d be friendly enough to the person, trying to make his own opinion on them.

would definitely be unnecessarily affectionate, holding your hand and pressing kisses to the back of your palm or making you randomly sit on one of his legs while bouncing you up and down.

彡 you groaned a bit, your boyfriend now interrupting the conversation for what felt like the twentieth time as he continued to make his presence known, both arms hung over your shoulders as he has you pressed into his chest and his head hovering over yours.

“chad, honey, what are you doing?” you finally ask, excusing yourself for a moment from your friend to talk privately.

“what?” he feigns obliviousness, a knowing smirk on his face as he reached his hands out for you again, pulling you closer to him and resting his hands on your waist.

“you know what.” you sigh, hating the fact you were already trying to fight back a smile the boy made contort on your face.

“just tryna get to know your friends.” he shrugged, leaning a little closer to you. “seeing what’s up. making sure there’s no competition.”

you roll your eyes, finally a small laugh leaving your lips.

“but chad, i get doing that to my guy friends, i guess, but do you really have to do that to the girls too?”

“what? my sisters gay, im just being precautious. nothing unusual.” he shrugged innocently and you smiled as he pulled you into a hug.

“wait, you have guy friends?”

.ೃ࿐ a/n : this took so long to finish , towards the last couple the quality kinda worsened cause i spent all day writing these and finished those ones at night

started 08.05.23. finished 08.05.23.

( scream masterlist )

©️nolovelingers 2023

[larluce]

Arthur travels back in time to save Merlin (from becoming a tree) AU

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART2 (You're here) , PART 3

The king of Camelot goes to visit his magic tree before his next battle. This isn't new. He always visits it. But it will be the last time he does it.

Arthur: (caressing the bark of the tree with a hand)It's finally time. I'm sorry it took so long. (sighs) And I'm sorry I have to do this.

He knows he's being selfish. Camelot is better than ever, his people is happy and yet he's going to war, risking this era of peace. A war he knows he won't come back from. But it's necessary.

Gwen: (arriving) Arthur...

Arthur: I won't change my mind, Guinivere

Gwen: I know. I just want to understand. Arthur, why? The price is too high and the chance it might work too slim. And even if it does work, you are risking that everything you know, everything you built will never happen.

Arthur: It's a risk I'm willing to take. I can prevent so many things from happening, not only Merlin's fate, but Gawain's, Elyan's, Lancelot's-

Gwen: Don't pretend you're not doing this just for him, Arthur, I'm not a fool.

Arthur: ...

Gwen: He wouldn't want you to do this. And you know it.

Arthur: Yeah, well, he didn't care about what I wanted when he made that stupid deal.

It's been ten years since Merlin saved his life and was cursed to be a tree forever as a payback. He was now a majestic beautiful tree in the royal garden and the most valuable national treasure in Camelot due to its magical properties: It could give fruits with the ability to cure all ills and the most serious wounds, but also could give ones with the most letal poison. Its wood was the finest. Once it let some branches fall for its king before an important battle and the weapons that were made with them are still as good as new to this day. Though Arthur did his part, he knows Camelot probably would not have obtained the title of the greatest, richest and most prosperous kingdom if it weren't for his Merlin.

However, not everything was sunshine and rainbows. Like every treasure it was also coveted by everyone who wanted to use it for their own selfish purposes. Kingdoms envious of his power sent spies to try to steal its fruits, its branches and even to try to cut it down to leave Camelot defenseless. Others even tried to invade Camelot just to posses the magic tree, but Camelot's army was the strongest in all Albion so they never could and soon they stopped trying.

There was a time they almost got too close though. Once Arthur found a man holding an ax stuck deep in Merlin's trunk. He has gone so mad with fury, he almost beat the man to death if it weren't because his knights stopped him before he made the final blow. He was still livid after that, but he let Gwen handle the man's trial, because he knew he wouldn't be reasonable in the state he was in. In the end the man was sentenced to beheading. It was what the law decreed since touching the King's tree was by law an act of treason. The king who sent the spy had to make a public apology and give monetary compensation to avoid a war. Arthur did make sure the spy's head was cut of with his own ax though. Later, when he was alone with his tree, Arthur cried because he almost lost Merlin again. The king apologised to him over and over again between sobs and cried until he fell asleep at the tree's roots.

It was then when it hit him. One day he would die and there won't be anyone to protect Merlin from greedy people who will only use his power for their own gains. Merlin would be at his new owner's mercy and the one after that, and the one after that, forever without being able to do anything about it. The mere thought made Arthur sick to his stomach.

No, he won't allow that to happen.

Gwen: (with teary eyes) Aren't we happy?

Arthur: Don't say that. You have always made me happy.

Gwen: (laughs weakely) But he made you happier, didn't he?

Arthur: ...

Gwen: You never told me. Which were Merlin's last words.

Arthur: I love you... he said I love you.

Gwen: Oh... (smiles) I get it now. Alright I'll help you. Just promise me something.

Arthur: Anything.

Gwen: Don't feel bad if you can't prevent other people from dying. In fact, you don't have to do it. Just save Merlin.

Arthur: But-

Gwen: No, you have done so much for this kingdom and sacrifice so much. (cradling his face) You owe us nothing and you owe me nothing, alright? Just be happy.

They hugged each other tightly and they share their last kiss and I love you before Arthur finally went to bloodiest battle he'll ever had in his life. And, after killing 100 hundred enemy soldiers with his blade, the king of Camelot died at the early age of forty.

Later Percival and Leon retrieve the king's corpse and bring it before their queen who doesn't share a tear despite being broken inside. She orders for his late husband to be buried next to his tree instead of burned in a pyre, proclaming that's what the king would have wanted. The real reason however is more complex than that.

The night after the funeral, she secretly brings the druids her husband consorted for years to the royal garden for the ritual to be made. Before the tree, as was planned, is the Ancient Round Table of the Ancient Kings.

Druid1: A sword with the blood of 300 hundred man.

Gwen: (gives excalibur to him)

Druid2: Three dragon scales.

Percival: (gives them to her)

Druid3: And the corpse of a king. We have everything.

Leon: Will this really work?

Druid1: This ritual had only worked once in the times of the ancient kings and only because it was done by three of the most powerful sorcerers of that time. We are not that powerful.

Druid2: However, we have a great magic source (she points the tree). So it might work.

It worked! That's Arthur's first thought when he opens his eyes again and finds himself in his room 20 years younger.

....

HIII!! First of all I want to thank you all for giving the first post so much love! I was truly shocked because I didn't think the AU was that good, so I'm really glad you liked it. I hope this kind of sequel/prequel? was of your liking too.

I don't think I'm going to make this a full fic yet, but I can make snippets like this about this AU until then.

What else would like to see happening in this AU? Let me know in the comments or reblogs ;)

[jarofstyles]

prince harry and common girl lover (best friends since childhood) + “we can’t keep hiding like this”

OH YES!!!! A bit of forbidden love.

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------

The wind billowed the edge of the blanket they laid on, hiding underneath the willow tree as the sun got a bit lower in the sky. Being wrapped in Harry's arms was the most safe she ever felt, despite the fact it was the most dangerous place to be. His heart thumped steadily against her cheek, fingers running over the opposite as she felt his eyes burning a hole into her.

"We can't keep hiding like this." His voice rasped, lips turned downward. "I can't handle it anymore, Petal. I've been trying to find ways to be alright with hiding how much of my heart that you own but I keep hitting a wall. I believe it's because something is telling me I shouldn't hide you." He gently ran his knuckle over the bridge of her nose. "I want to tell them. Everyone."

Y/N's eyes burned as she closed them, trying to control the shaky exhale she released. It didn't work. She knew he was an optimist, her beautiful sunshine prince, but he had too much to lose. She couldn't be selfish with him, not when the entire kingdom would rely on him one day. "You know we shouldn't, Harry. You've been promised to someone else since the day you were noticed in your mother's belly." It was hard to control her voice, the weakness of it giving it away to Harry that she was struggling.

Nudging her up, he cupped the side of her face and thumbed over the high round of her cheek. Eyes scanned her face, taking in her slightly wobbly bottom lip and the glaze over her eyes that wrecked him. It shouldn't be this difficult. He shouldn't have to hide the person he loved with his entire being, so much so that she consumed him. He knew his mother would understand, but his father would be resistant. He would tell him that a future king had to make decisions they didn't like, and he would need to abide by the arrangement.

"I want to marry you, Petal." He whispered, connecting their lips at the end of the word. It was a pained kiss, one he was trying to melt into softness. Take away the brittle edges and file them down smoothly, let her feel the way he did. His sweet girl was so afraid, so nervous of what would become of them but Harry couldn't fathom a world without her at his side. "I want you to lay next to me at night, I want your hand in mine, your lips to only ever feel the shape of my own. I crave you every single second you are away from me. Don't you understand? How I yearn for you, I ache. Not just to be inside of you, but to be with you. To listen to your breaths as you sleep, just knowing that you're there." He swallowed thickly, nudging his nose against her own and took another kiss. Harder this time, a harsh breath leaving his nose as he pulled her, moving her dress so she could straddle his lap.

"My love, my sweet, my Petal. Please... allow me to take the risk." He pleaded. "Allow me to tell them of us, let me take the punishments if need be. I will do anything for you." His words were whimpered as he pressed frantic kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her forehead. "I feel like I'm going insane. As the day of the engagement party grows closer, I feel the walls of the castle getting smaller. I feel suffocated. The only time I can breathe is with you." His hands clutched her close, almost as if to prevent her from slipping through his fingers.

"Oh, Harry." She whispered sadly, watching his eyes water. It was unlike him, her sunshine prince. He was so bright, so warm. To see the storm clouds settle over the sun was alarming and she hated the sight. It wasn't right. "Do you think I don't feel the same? That I'm not physically ill at the idea of you bedding someone other than me, even if it is only to provide an heir? Do you think I don't cry in my bed after I leave the sparkling stars and you, wishing I could crawl back to you? But I feel so selfish." She pecked his nose, letting their foreheads rest together. "So, so selfish. What if they strip your title? What if they banish you? What if it's forced regardless and there's a rift between you and your family? I cannot bear the idea of ruining your life. I can't take the sunshine away from you."

The world was quiet. The birds chirped and the branches moved, leaves rustling in the wind, but the only sound they could hear was each others breaths and their own heartbeats in their ears.

"I would let them." He whispered after a moment. "I would let them take it all away from me before I let them take you. I don't think you grasp how much you mean to me. You are my heart." His eyes burned as he looked at her. "I would run with you, I would find us somewhere and build a life with you. Nothing else matters more than you." He sniffled, pressing his lips back against her and laying repetitive kisses to her lips. It was hard to convey just how much he truly loved her. How she had his heart in her hands and his should wrapped around her finger.

"Harry..." She laughed through a tear, looking down at the hand holding her waist tight. "I hope you know I feel the same for you. You're what I need." Her fingers brushed the hair that had fallen into his face, the soft curls unfairly highlighted caramel in the sunlight that bled through the leaves. He was inhumanly handsome. "I'm afraid for you."

"I'm afraid for myself if I don't admit my love for you. I can't be trapped in a loveless marriage when I have a love. The greatest lover there is. I want children with you, I want you by my side. Whether I'm king or not, having you would be my biggest accomplishment." He meant every word. Every beat of his heart belonged to her. "I'm going to tell them. I'm going to make you my wife, regardless of the cost. All I'll ever need is you."

[starry-bi-sky]

Becoming Phantom - Clone^2 (and by extension, clone danny)

I said I would make it, and so i did! Here's a little ficlet of how danny became Phantom - the human ghost-fighting vigilante in the clone^2 and clone Danny au. Since this does include themes of dissection/vivisection, i'll put in a minor trigger warning list down below.

TW: experimentation - implied torture and vivisection/dissection of ghosts TW: Non-graphic mentions of injuries and blood

TLDR: Danny's parents have been catching ghosts ever since the portal was opened after Danny's lab accident. Danny knows this because he can hear them screaming from the basement. After finally telling his friends about it, he resolves to free the ghosts - and he does. He ends up having a conversation with one of the ghosts, and comes to the decision that he will catch ghosts before his parents do to prevent this kind of harm from happening again.

word count check: 4.9k

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

His parents caught another ghost.

Danny can tell because he can hear their screaming from the kitchen, even with the doors closed. It's horrific - the voice is doubled over itself like something out of one of Sam's demonic horror movies, and Danny's heart races like he's run a mile at the sound.

It warps and twists, and almost sounds like its saying 'please.'

He rubs his chest uncomfortably, and pushes his breakfast away from him. His appetite lost and his stomach churning with a deep sense of dread.

Across the table, Jazz notices, and her eyes narrow dangerously at his hand gripping his shirt - right over his heart. He just got out of the hospital last month, and he knows what she's thinking - they don't want to have to send him back.

"I'm fine." He blurts out immediately, dropping his hand. He's not fine, but it's because he feels ill as the lights above flicker and another terrified shriek echoes through the floorboards. He swallows, ill. "I- it's just-" his eyes flick to the door to the lab. "the lab."

Jazz's lips press into thin line, and she pushes her chair back and stands up. "I hate that they're doing this," she says, stomping towards the lab. "It's inhumane, Danny. They're people too, even if they don't look like us!"

Before the portal, Danny might've just shrugged his shoulders and not said anything. He never really cared about his parents' ghost hunting stuff, but figured that since they knew more about it, their rants about them being unfeeling were correct.

Now, though? When he's been woken up in the middle of the night by the house rattling and his ears ringing with the pained cries of one of the ghosts' in the basement? His heart beating so fast he thinks he's been transported back to the lab a month ago, lying on the floor after being electrocuted by the portal?

He's really not so sure anymore. And he thinks he's starting to agree with Jazz. This isn't right. He doesn't think so, at least.

An unsure 'hm' comes out of his throat, eyes tracking Jazz as she swings the heavy metal door open and breathes in deep. "HEY!" She yells, her voice miraculously sounding out over the ghost screaming. The screams stop. "MOM! DAD! CUT THAT OUT, YOU'RE SCARING DANNY!"

There's no sound, and Danny sighs a breath of relief. Not that it does much to slow his anxious heart, the shrieks are burned into his ears, and he's already thinking about leaving now rather than later. He can meet Tucker at his house.

His parents - his mom, actually - appears at the entrance to the lab, her hands drip bright, ectoplasm green, and there's splatters of it across the front of her suit and goggles like blood. Danny feels white in the face, and Jazz looks enraged.

Mom pulls off her goggles, frowning apologetically. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Your father and I just got carried away, we caught this one just this morning by the park." She says, as if that makes it any better. Danny's eyes are glued to the ectoplasm dripping onto the floor. "We'll wait until you get to school."

Danny wishes they wouldn't do this at all. But he just nods mutely, unable to make his lead-heavy tongue do anything. Jazz speaks for him, and whirls on mom like a tornado about to break loose. "At school? This shouldn't be happening at all - it's wrong, mom!"

Jazz has been the only one vocal about this whole thing ever since mom and dad came home with a ghost trapped in one of their nets - their thermos wasn't working - while Danny was on sick leave after he got out of the hospital. Danny still remembers the utter shock he was in after mom and dad came in dragging it behind them.

The ghost looked like a grown woman, but it - she - had the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen, and ice-like skin. She'd been thrashing in the net, saying something in a hissy, whispering language that made static build behind his eyes. It had surprised him that he could somewhat make out what she was saying.

It had been fascinating. Up until the screaming started.

He watches Mom make a face that looks like endeared annoyance, and she turns to Jazz with a light sigh. "You're a kind girl, Jazz, but ghosts aren't human, sweetheart. We've told you this." And they have, multiple times. It's become a reoccurring argument.

"Does it matter?!" Jazz exclaims, her cheeks turning an inflamed red with indignancy. She looks appalled. "They're still in pain! You're hurting them!"

Danny silently nods, but they don't see. Jazz is glaring at mom with the burning anger of the sun and Mom just looks exasperated. "Your father and I know this already, Jazmine." Mom says, her arms crossing across her chest.

Jazz's mouth drops open.

Danny's almost does the same. The bone-chilling blood rush leaves him shivering, and his vision spots out in black, fuzzy dots for a few seconds. Maybe, he thinks, it's his heart stopping again with the cold horror.

They know this?

They know this?

And they're still doing it?

He thought he knew his parents - now he's second-guessing himself.

Jazz is just as much at a loss for words as Danny is. And then her expression shutters closed with a fury-kind of icy. "Danny," she says, still staring down their mom. "Go get your stuff, I'm driving you to school."

Normally, he hates how.. parent-y Jazz gets. She acts like a second mom, and like a helicopter one to boot. It drives him nuts on the worst of days. Right now though, he's already rising to his feet before he's even opening his mouth.

"Okay." He croaks, and beelines it up the stairs for his backpack. He doesn't look at mom when he comes back down, he doesn't think he can. He can see her still-dripping hands in the corner of his eye though.

------

"Man, you look like shit." Tucker says the moment Danny sits down in their homeroom class, he's frowning. Danny doesn't say anything to him, he just grunts and drops his head into his arms.

Sam, sitting behind Danny, leans across the aisle and smacks Tucker in the arm. He yelps in pain, and rubs the spot she hit with a glare. "He's right though," Sam says, leaning over his shoulder. "You looked like you were gonna yak over the front row when you walked in."

"It's good that you didn't," Tucker grumbles, "Dash would've killed you."

Danny, despite the shit morning, manages a smile and tilts his head so that his cheek is resting on his arm instead. "Mr. Lancer wouldn't've let him." Sam sniffs, and her fingers are in his hair already - it's been growing out for a while now. He meant to cut it but then the lab accident happened, and he was in the hospital, and then on sick leave, and -- long story short, he was growing it out.

Besides, Sam pulling it back for him was relaxing, and he feels the tension bleeding out of his shoulders already. His anxious heart slowing. "Yeah, he's been weirdly protective since the accident." He says. It was kinda nice, Dash was being forced to back off - finally, more than he was before.

"Probably because if you have a heart attack in class from Dash bullying you, he'll be liable." Tucker snorts, relaxing back into his chair. Up front, the three of them see Dash shoot them a glare from over his shoulder. He probably heard them -- and Tucker doesn't help by giving him an innocent, too-wide grin.

There's a tug, and Danny lifts his head slightly as Sam ties his hair back with whatever hairband she procured out of nowhere. And she says she's not a witch, honestly.

His smile falters, however, when Sam leans back around his shoulder with a frown still evident on her face. "Seriously though, what's up? You were really pale -- paler than normal, that is."

Danny doesn't really wanna tell them - he's kept the whole 'my parents are torturing ghosts' thing to himself ever since he first woke up to the house shaking. It wasn't any secret though that there were ghosts now actually 'infesting' Amity Park though, they'd been popping up ever since the portal turned on.

But Jazz says talking about things helps alleviate stress of what's burdening you, and Danny doesn't usually listen to her. She's his annoying older sister, of course he doesn't. But... this... wasn't really something he wanted to keep secret forever, either.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he averts his eyes. It's like tearing off a band-aid, Danny, he thinks, just... blurt it out. "My parents are torturing ghosts in the basement." He says, only to immediately wince as both Sam and Tucker drop their jaws.

"What!?" They both yell in unison, and Danny ducks his head down as everyone else sitting around them turn their heads.

"Not so loud!" He hisses, peeking through his arms and glaring at the both of them. They both grimace, embarrassment dusting red across Sam's face and Tucker's darkening slightly, and duck their heads down towards him.

"Sorry, what!?" Tucker whispers back at him, his face all scrunched up in disbelief. Sam's redness has faded into pale horror and -- and yeah, yeah, Danny gets it. He feels that way too.

"They keep catching the ghosts and dissecting them." He whispers, and god, he feels sick just saying it. Tucker's face falls slack, and he looks about as ill as Danny feels. "I don't- I don't know what to do about it, I keep waking up to them screaming, and Jazz keeps getting into fights about it with them."

"Oh my god." Sam mutters, her hands pressing together and covering her mouth. Danny nods mutely, chewing on his lip.

"They know its hurting them." He adds, and its still dizzyingly terrifying to think about. He thought he knew his parents. He thought he knew them. He guesses that saying of people being multi-faceted was true. "They don't care."

Sam and Tucker both look green. Or as close to green as they can get. "That's- that's inhumane." Sam breathes, and Danny huffs sardonically - funny, that's what Jazz said this morning. That's what she keeps saying. "And there's really nothing you can do?"

"Not unless I go into the lab myself and release them," he mutters, hiding half his face in his arms. "And I haven't been back in there since I got electrocuted." His parents wouldn't allow it, and it's not like he he was chomping at the bits to go back inside anyways.

...Hm.

"I'm sorry, Danny." Tucker says, his voice low and horrified, "that's- that's awful."

Yeah. He knows.

--------

This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea.

Where was Danny you ask? Sneaking down into the lab at sometime past midnight, long after his parents have gone to bed. It's been a week since he said, sarcastically, that the only thing he could do was release the ghosts in the lab, and it hasn't left his head.

Even though he was utterly terrified as he took slow, sneaky steps down the stairs. The thought had been keeping him up at night. He could do it. He could go down into the lab and let them go. He could do something.

It's not like his parents had put a lock on the door. He hadn't even thought about it - if he thought about it, he'd back out. So when he heard his parents go to sleep that night, he waited an hour before sneaking out.

Every sound felt so loud, and his heart had raced in his ears as he creaked open the door to the lab, and closed it behind him for good measure. And his hands were shaking as he reached the bottom of the steps and stepped into the lab for the first time in two months.

And good god, did he almost regret it. There were ghosts in cages of all kinds, and ectoplasm seeping down onto the floor of their cages. They were clutching their chests, of which bled sluggishly through stitched up y-scars. They were moaning, and crying, curled up in the back like frightened animals. And there was a metal table in the center of a room that was stained green, green, green.

"Oh my god." He breathes, horror driving itself up into his throat with the churning of his gut. That's another thing he almost regrets - if only because half a dozen ghosts all snap their heads towards him, and it becomes pandemonium in an instant.

Rattling, yelling, crying, they're all screaming at him. Either to tell him to go away, to give them mercy, or to spew threats at him. It's in that same, hissy language that he's heard before. Whispery, echoing, and overlapping like multiple languages being played backwards and forwards at the same time. It gives him an immediate headache as his mind tries to comprehend and translate it.

Go away. Don't hurt us. Go away. I'll tear you apart. Leave. Leave. LEAVE.

It's all so much. Danny wants to throw himself up the stairs and back up to his room in a prey-driven instinct to flee, flee, flee. He doesn't. He covers his ears and digs his nails into his hair.

He yells. "I'M NOT LEAVING. BE QUIET!" and somehow, it silences everyone in an instant. He looks up, and everyone is staring at him, their multi-colored eyes burning into him.

Tentatively, he lowers his hands, they're shaking. He's still so scared. But courage isn't a lack of fear, its doing something despite it. He blinks back the terrified sting in his eyes, and twiddles with his hands. "I'm- I'm not here to hurt you." He stammers, "I promise. I'm not my parents."

It's silent for a long moment, and then there's an animalistic-like hiss from his left. He turns his head, and there's a ghost of a man curled up in a cage, staring him down with a thunderous look on his face. "Liar." He hisses, his voice warping in that hissy language. There are goat-like horns protruding from his head, and his eyes are yellow and slitted. He's dripping ectoplasm from his chest.

Danny swallows the bile in his throat.

And frowns. "I'm not lying." He says, and the ghost doesn't get hostile, much to his surprise. But there's a ripple of murmurs that spreads through the room like a wave at a ballgame. The ghost that spoke stares at him, then squints.

"You understand us, child?"

And - okay, Danny doesn't like the 'child' comment. He's fourteen for goodness sake, and he bristles silently like it's an insult, but he's no there to argue, he's here to help. So he swallows his pride and starts to walk towards the closed portal.

His legs are shaking, he's afraid they're gonna give out beneath him. The portal scares him, more than it did when he first saw it. But maybe that's because when he first saw it, he hadn't almost died from it.

His heart is pounding in his ears. Is it going to give out again, will he have to go to the hospital again? Despite his insistence that he's fine, Danny's heart hasn't beat right ever since the accident. He's checked. He spent an hour every night with his fingers pressed against the pulse point at his throat, at his wrist, terrified of the slow-beating he could feel thrumming against the skin.

Hearts aren't supposed to beat that slow - that much he knows. He's afraid he's going to drop dead if it drops any lower.

"Of course I do." He swallows, glancing back at the ghost. Everyone's eyes are on him, they burn into him, curious, wary, afraid. He's in front of the portal, in front of the keypad to open it. Shit, did dad put in a password? "Am I- am I not supposed to?"

He pauses to look at the ghost, and the man has moved to stare at him from a new angle in his cage - god he's gonna need to find the key. Mom and dad probably have it in their desk, right?

The ghost is silent. "...No. You're not." He says, and his head tilts to the side as Danny mentally translates in his head. he looks at Danny like he's trying to inspect him, like he's trying to look into him like his parents have looked into the ghost. "What is your name, child?"

"I'm not a child." He bites out, and immediately winces. Shit- he just said not to antagonize them. But the ghost doesn't look offended. In fact, he just grins a sharp, toothy grin like a shark, and raspy giggles and titters echo through the room.

...That's... probably a good sign. "Um," he continues, and turns his back to the keypad. Dad's birthday? He punches into the keys. "I'm- uh, Danny. Danny Fentom- Fanton- Fenton. My parents are- uh, the ones who took you guys." The keypad buzzes and the bar spots red. Wrong password. Dammit.

"Phantom." The ghost says, and the name crawls like a spider across the walls, sneaking up his spine and ringing in the air like the leftover taste of rain and thunder. the rest of the ghosts whisper it amongst themselves.

Danny shivers, it feels like a weight in his chest. It's Fenton, he thinks, but doesn't correct. He doesn't want to push his luck with the being that could tear him apart. "Uh, sure."

He punches in mom's birthday. Wrong. He puts in Jazz's. Wrong. "How come we haven't seen you down here, Phantom?" The ghost asks, and Danny shrugs helplessly. "You are the Danny that the unknown girl yells about?"

He tries his own birthday. Wrong. Fuck. What's the password? The tremor in his limbs worsens with his anxiety, and he tries to keep his breathing steady. What if he can't get this open? What if he can't get them out? He nearly forgets to answer the ghost, and licks his dry lips. "Um- yeah, that's me. The Danny guy." He says, turning to the cages again. "And uh, I don't come down here because my parents don't allow it."

The ghost, uh, goat-man? Tilts his head, there are whispers throughout the room that pick up. And Danny feels like the kid late to an all school assembly and now has to walk past the whole school to find a seat.

Goat-man smiles again, or bares his teeth? "You are the reason why the human doctors haven't cut into us more than they already have." And- that's- that's good? He thinks?

"That's- good, right? You- you don't want to be cut open, so it's good that I, uh, indirectly stopped it a few times?"

A round of titters goes through the room again. The man's grin widens inhumanly so, and Danny's heart spikes with fear. "Yes, it's a good thing, Phantom child." He says, "Why is it that your parents do not let you come down here?"

Danny stares, and swallows again, dry. The back of his neck tingles, and he tastes electricity on his tongue. "I had an accident down here, um, nearly two months ago." His eyes flick to the cable cord where the portal was plugged in, and his heart flutters with the images of green that got burned behind his eyes. He looks away. "The portal, it, ah, electrocuted me. I was in the hospital because it nearly killed me."

"It did kill you." The ghost says immediately, and terror fills up in Danny like water flooding a room. What? What? What? He was alive. His heart was beating, he was alive. "But only for a moment. You've been touched by death, Phantom."

That was so fucking ominous. And terrifying. And terrifyingly ominous. And also really horrifying. Danny does a swift pirouette and turns back to the keypad. Time to figure out the passcode and not think about that, ever again, actually.

"Wow." He rasps, his mind numb as he punches in a random code of numbers and gets a red screen. "How reassuring. Tell death I want a refund." He gets laughter again, and his shoulders scrunch up to his ears.

"It is the reason you can understand us, then." The ghost says behind him. "We are not speaking your language child - rather, you are speaking ours."

Again. Fucking ominous. Danny furrows his brows and stares hard at the keypad - if he was dad, and he wanted to put a password lock on his lifetime achievement in something that was easy to remember and equally important, what would it be?

Oh. Right.

He bites back a groan - how obvious. Danny's an idiot. Or maybe just so scared witless that his brain isn't working right. "Fudge." He grumbles, and punches it into the keypad. It dings green.

Of - fucking - course. Danny rolls his eyes.

He hears a hiss, and Danny rapidly scuttles back as the massive blast doors twisted open like something out of a scifi movie - he'd be geeking out if he wasn't aware of his own rapid heartbeat. Like a gun charging up, an unearthly green glow appears at the back of the tunnel an d then rapidly moves towards him, growing larger and larger.

Danny flinches, half-convinced its going to hit him. He was going to be vaporized, and he brings up his arms to protect himself. But nothing happens, and he peeks open an eye that he closed when the ghost from before murmurs for him to open them.

The portal is - is, well. Indescribable. It fills the dark room with its glow, swirling like a those weird, shimmering liquid dyes put into martini glasses in those aesthetic gifs on the internet. And the light it casts on the walls shimmers and moves like the aurora borealis.

Danny is speechless. It's... oddly beautiful. And terrifying. There's a whole new world in that dimension - if he steps through he won't be on earth anymore.

And... his parents wanted to eradicate the people on the other side of it?

He whirls on foot, his back to the portal - a thing that fills him with dread. his shaking - its worse. Danny almost thinks his feet will give out. "Do - do any of you know where mom and dad keep the keys to the cages?" He asks, but he's already stalking towards the desk on the other side of the room.

The people in the cages grow restless, and they've been silent for the most part - but with the portal open, and him going to find the keys, they'd begun to grow talkative. They were moving more in the cages, talking to each other, excitement filling the air with so much hope Danny could feel it resonating between his ribs.

A new voice, quiet and feminine, speaks up on the opposite side of the goat-man's cage. She's closer to the desk, and she has also been cut open. There are black tears staining her face, and her shock white hair floats like she's underwater. Immediately, on instinct, Danny's head supplies him with a word.

Banshee.

"In the bottom drawer, Phantom." She whispers, her voice lilting and melodic. Her pitch black eyes follow him across the room. "I've seen them put it there after putting us back into our cages."

He nods mutely, and again feels horrified by their treatment from his parents. His pace quickens to the desk, and just as the banshee woman said, there are keys in the bottom drawer sitting on top of a bunch of research papers that have a suspicious green stain on them.

Danny ignores the stain and grabs the keys, holding them up as he closes the drawer. When he turns back to the cages, all eyes are on him. "Um," he rasps, "I found the key." Who do I free first?

His eyes land on the banshee woman first, she's the closest to the desk. And in an arc he follows the lineup to the other side side of the room. He moves to the banshee woman's cage first, and she perks up as he kneels down to the door.

"I'll- I'll go in a circle, first." He announces, fingers fumbling with the key as he inserts it into the hole. The banshee woman had her fingers - clawed and knife-like, capable of tearing out his throat in an instant - around the bars of her confinement. She was staring at him intently.

He hesitates, and looks up. Her eyes are pitch black, he noticed this before, but this close its like its threatening to suck him in and send him swirling through a blackhole. "If- if I free you," he stammers, licking his lips, "will you attack me?"

The banshee woman bares her razor teeth at him, and reaches through the bars to touch his face. It takes all Danny's restraint not to flinch as her nails drag down his cheek softly. "No," she says, "you're freeing us, Phantom. We will not attack you."

Danny.. will just have to take her word for it. He nods, and with a sharp twist of his wrist unlocks the cage with one hand, and flings open the door with the other. In an instant, the banshee dives forward -- Danny thinks she's lunging at him, and flinches violently.

She goes through him instead, leaving him with a bone-deep chill and a heartbeat in his ears. He turns, and sees her dive through the portal like a swimmer diving into a pool.

There is silence throughout the room. And then everyone else begins to clamor once again, just like when Danny first walked in. Danny hurries to hush them - he said he was going around the room! He'll free them, but be quiet, or you'll wake his parents!

He rushes for the next cage, and one by one opens each and every cage. There are cheers, and thank yous, and cries of gratitude. He has to help the weaker ghosts out of their cage and limp them towards the portal. His shirt and hands are stained green with their blood.

(When he goes back up to his room later, he throws it off and throws it away. He can't stand the sight of it, and he scrubs his hands until they're raw.)

It's a lot for Danny to not burst into tears, or to throw up. Until finally he reaches goat-man's cage, and releases him. He is one of the ghosts too weak to fly on their own, and so Danny lets him lean against him and helps him to the portal.

"Will you be okay?" He asks once they are at the threshold, the portal hums softly this close to it. Almost like its trying to beckon Danny inside, like a siren song. Danny ignores it. "Will everyone else?"

"We will heal, Phantom." Goatman says, holding a hand to his chest. He looks tired, this close, and Danny can feel him looking at him, even without any pupils to show it. "Once back inside the Infinite Realms our bodies will heal on its own."

Danny nods silently, and his frown begins to wobble. The stress he's been under is finally starting to take its toll, and he is emotionally exhausted. There is still a lingering taste of fear in the air that doesn't belong to him - but the ghosts that have left. "I'm sorry." He croaks, his voice cracking. "I didn't - I didn't think you guys were human. I'm sorry."

The ghost's expression softens, but he still looks stern. "We aren't human." he says, and Danny frowns, confused. The ghost continues, and reaches out a long finger to tap against Danny's chest, where his heart is. "But do not think for a moment that humanity can be measured by the sound of a heartbeat, child. We are just as humane as you living can be, and we are just as sentient and sapient as you. Do not forget that, and you will not become your parents."

There's nothing for Danny to say to that, except nod once again. His tongue is heavy in his mouth, made of lead. "This will happen again," he continues, and his eyes prick, "they're gonna keep catching ghosts and bringing them down here." And hurting them.

Goatman nods curtly, and raises an eyebrow at Danny. "What will you do to stop them, Phantom?" He asks, "You could keep releasing them after they have been already caught, but that will not stop the pain they face under the hands of your parents."

He's right. He's right. And if Danny keeps releasing them afterwards, his parents will grow suspicious. They'll start sticking around trying to catch whoever is freeing the ghosts. And Danny doesn't want to face what will happen if his parents realize that he's the one freeing ghosts.

His eyes flicker rapidly around the room, trying to think of a solution - what could he do? What can he do?

His eyes land on the thermos sitting on the table.

"I... I could catch ghosts?" He says, unsure, and looks back to the ghost. He nods, beckoning for Danny to continue. "I can catch them in the thermos before my parents do, and then release them back to the Zone."

"That will work." The ghost says, "The thermos doesn't hurt to be in, it's merely cramped. Will you follow through on this?"

"Yes."

The ghost smiles at him a third and final time, his teeth glinting in the green portal light. "Then good luck, Danny Phantom."

He lets go, and disappears into the portal.

[msfbgraves]

Thinking about Abraham van Helsing and his refusal to even discuss vampirism until people have drawn their own irrefutable conclusion and going, oh, this poor sweet kaaskop (cheesehead, that's what we Dutchmen call ourselves).

You see, Dutchmen, and Hollanders in particular, are almost aggressively opposed to the idea of the supernatural. We're factual and neutral to a fault. The most well known horror story about the Dutch - The Flying Dutchman - was written by the English. We don't do fancy ourselves. Our horrors are aggressively real and mundane (it's flooding. We are obsessed with flood prevention. Scared out of our mind by drowning and storms). Our horrors are tangible and real and out in the open. Dying in a flood. Dying in a coal mine (a more Victorian fear). Dying in a flooding coal mine, to combine the two. Dying at sea. Dying in traffic.

But you can fight the sea. And we do fight the sea. With engineering. Technology. We look at stuff in detail and deal with what is right in front of us (the sea, the universe), and only that. We're bad poets and good scientists, we're great figurative painters. We are, as everyone knows, aggressively literal and straightforward.

Indeed Bram, that sweet man, has a very literal approach to vampire fighting. Lucy is being fed on? Blood transfusion. Aenemia is aenemia. Also, autopsies are autopsies, no matter why they are performed. Medicinal flowers are medicinal flowers, prevention is prevention no matter the circumstances.

He has been conditioned to think that everyone will violently reject anything supernatural that isn't in the Bible and even then. Because that is a what a Dutchman, a Hollander especially, would likely do. "The ordinary is crazy enough", is a close approximation of one of our most well known sayings.

And now imagine Bram van Helsing coming across vampirism somewhere prior to the story. He will have rejected it at first. Maybe he rejected it too long until he either had to choose between the truth of his own perception or the fact that he was insane. He will have self-diagnosed any and all mental illnesses that could afflict him until deciding that he was of sound mind, and this was a vampire attack. What would have taken a citizen of Bistritz minutes to accept and act upon (nothing too far removed from their religion, most likely), would have taken Bram weeks or months of lonely agony and doubt.

And maybe by then, it was too late?

Still, even after Lucy's testimony (in writing!); the punctured neck, the blood loss, the bat, the wolf attack, the physical changes, does he not say to Jack - if it quacks like a duck and walks like a duck and acts like a duck, I am going to treat it like a duck, my friend. Instead he waits for Lucy to turn in front of Jack's eyes so he will have to believe in vampires because he saw it himself. To Van Helsing this is the only way to convince him because that is what it would take to convince an educated Dutchman. (I always joke that there are so few supernatural occurrences in The Netherlands because our outright refusal to believe in any of it kills it stone dead.)

This is dangerous, by the way - had he been alone, he wouldn't have let it get this far, I am sure of it. But there is a greater problem, a hunting vampire on the loose and he needs the help of his friends. And he doesn't dare confide in them.

How long has he been alone with this...?

Bram... 😭💔

[themultifandomgal]

Jay Halstead- Allergies

When Jay asked me out on a date I was so worried he would take me to a restaurant, luckily he didn’t, instead we went just went to Mollys and had a drink. After how well our first date went Jay asked me on another, which meant I couldn’t hide my allergies from him anymore. Thankfully he understood and so once again we didn’t go out to eat.

Now here we are married with a 5 year old daughter who fortunately doesn’t have as manny allergies as I do, except for the fact she’s allergic to cows milk. Anything containing said product could send her into anaphylaxis, this is why we have many vegan products just to be on the safe side.

I sit at my desk opposite Jays as I fill out paperwork from my last arrest when my works phone rings

“YN Halstead”

“Mrs Halstead hello, this is Mr Martinez I’m calling you to let you know that I will need you or your husband to come and pick up Layla from school. She’s unfortunately been sick and says her chest hurts”

“Ok” I sigh looking at the clock on my computer 12:34, “I’ll come down and get her. Has she eaten anything at lunch?” I ask standing up. Jay then looks at me confused

“Yes, she didn’t say she felt ill, in fact she ate all of her lunch”

“What was it?”

“It was macaroni cheese, but I’m not sure what Layla had instead. I’ll find out from the cook and let you know what it was when you arrive”

“Ok I’ll be about 15 minutes” I sigh putting the phone down

“Everything ok?”

“Laylas been sick, I’ll go and get her, you think Voight will let me bring her back here?”

“Never had a problem with it before. I’ll come with you” Jay says getting up “go get the car ready and I’ll let Voight know”

We arrive at the school, but as we park up there’s an ambulance with blue lights flashing. Quickly we get out of the car and rush into the reception area

“Oh thank goodness Mr and Mrs Halstead your here” the receptionist walks round her desk to us “please follow me”

“What’s going on?” Jay says worriedly

“After Mr Martinez rang you he spoke to the cook. They’re new and turns out that she gave Layla the macaroni cheese”

“What?!” My eyes widen and panic sets in

“She was given her epipen and we phoned an ambulance. She’s in here” we head into a room where I see my best friend Sylvie sat next to mine and Jays daughter

“Momma!” Layla yells crying

“It’s ok momma and daddy are here”

“Why the hell did the cook give my daughter something she’s allergic to? Do you not have a list of all the childrens allergies?”

“Of course we do Mr Halstead, but as this cook was new she didn’t know their allergies”

“How did she not know? Surly she would have see then list?”

“She never come to the office to get it” the receptionist states

“Then why didn’t you take it to her?” I shout

“I understand your both upset, but I have to remind you that we are still at a school” the headteacher now walks in

“And how are you going to make this better Hm?” Jay asks crossing his arms

“We have asked that she go to an allergen awareness course, and we will be making a list to stay in the kitchen”

“YN, Jay? Layla is ready to move to hospital. You know the drill”

“Yeah course. Babe let’s go” Jay sighs at Sylvie “but this isn’t over. I want to know how your going to prevent this from happening again”

Jay and I head to the hospital where we’re told that Layla will be ok but no school for her for the rest of the week.

[hitomisuzuya]

Decoding Scara. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Fluff. Some humor. Soft Scara. AU

a/n: I wrote this cause we all want someone to take care of us when we are sick. One of my dad's girlfriend's kids gave me this gnarly awful cough. Kid doesn't even cover his mouth 😭 I don't want this shit, no one does. Next on deck is Diluc smut. I should be on the last legs of this shit.

Achoo!

Scaramouche cringed.

You'd sneezed. You were sick. You had been for a few days now. Thing is, you were too proud to admit it. Sometimes, he thought you were more stubborn than he was.

Your cheeks looked flushed with fever, you sounded congested. You hadn't slept all that much because of it.

And Scaramouche had had enough of your shit. It ends now.

"Tch. Stop it, it's painful to watch you," He scoffed as he watched you from his spot on your bed, crossing his arms.

Up for a game of decoding? When you are dating someone like Scaramouche, you had to really listen to hear what he means when he talks. It's a weird thing for you to explain.

Decode: Please come rest, you are very sick and I am worried for you.

You rubbed your eyes before you looked at him. You looked so tired. "No, I still have things I need to get done," You said, giving him a soft smile before turning back to your laptop.

Scaramouche promptly got up, and closed your laptop. He rolled his eyes when you sputtered in protest. "No you don't. You look like you are going to drop dead any second now. "

Decode: It can wait. It's more important for you to get better.

You tried to open your laptop again, but Scaramouche kept his hand on your laptop to hold it closed. He picked you up bridal style and carried you over to your bed.

It really really freaked Scaramouche out when you got sick. He'd lost someone who he considered a younger brother to illness. He would be damned if he lost you like that too.

He wouldn't be able to bear it.

"I'm taking this," He picked up your laptop, and tucked it under his arm before he walked over to your bedroom door. "And I am locking the door from the outside while I am gone at the pharmacy."

Decode: Please stay in bed and sleep while I go get you medicine.

You knew there was no use in protesting. Scaramouche tucked the blankets around you, giving you a quick kiss before heading out to the pharmacy. He really did lock the door.

This boy, as soon as he got to the pharmacy, he grabbed one box of every cold medicine on the shelf. If one didn't work for you than you had others to try. The cashier gave him an odd look. He knew it looked totally shady.

"Fuck off, my girlfriend is sick," He snapped, glaring at the cashier. Unfortunately, the cashier didn't know how to decode Scara at all cause he didn't know him.

There was no reason to decode that one though.

After some coaxing and bickering, the cashier rang him up just so he would leave. That was fine with Scaramouche. He didn't like idiots holding him up, especially if they were preventing him from getting back to you.

Next he went to the grocery store. He bought various soups that would help sooth your throat, and a variety of teas, scoffing when he took a box of hot chocolate mix off the shelf. He despised sweet things, but he knew it would make you feel better.

The only sweet thing he didn't despise was you.

"Sc-Scara, what did you do? Buy the whole pharmacy?" You asked with wide eyes when he tossed the bag full of cold medicine onto your bed.

"Practically, just shut up and take your medicine. I also got you that mud you like to drink," He said, sitting down on your bed.

Decode: Take your medicine. It will make you feel better. I also got you hot chocolate because I know you like it.

Scaramouche spent the next few days hardly letting you get up for anything, making sure you took your medicine, and making you soup. He watched movies and TV shows with you, he would never admit it but he absolutely ate up reality shows for their drama.

Needless to say, once you recovered, you had your hands full taking care of Scaramouche when he caught what you had.

He would still kiss you even if you were sick.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA if I actively worsen my family’s sanity as revenge for worsening mine?

My family is that if two parents and three children (all in our 20s).

Without getting into deep specifics, basically, I’ve lost all the patience I’ve had for my family. My mom who is manipulative, my dad who is neglectful, my siblings who are egotistical and dismissive.

because I’m the middle child and oldest daughter I’ve been the brunt of every negative thing you could think of, and I dealt with it for… 25 years.

but this year as my New Year’s resolution I swore to treat them worse than they treat me. So every time my mom tried to manipulate me into feeling bad for her and to love her and to do the house chores, I threaten to kill myself and tell her that she was an awful mother and that if she really cared for me she wouldn’t ask me for things. (She knows I have mental illness that makes it hard for me to do things)

and when my dad puts my pet in danger I slap him and threaten to take his pet to a shelter to have him euthanized and tell him he should die alongside his pet (he is in his mid 60s)

I don’t do anything directly to my siblings because our relationship honestly isn’t that bad, but I did make a fake Instagram account that I use to call out one sibling for all the stuff they do to keep their image up or whatever (some bullying might be involved in their part)

and for my other sibling, who collects vinyls, occasionally I go and scratch up a vinyl they have. Just enough to make it seem like normal wear and tear, they haven’t noticed yet lol.

whenever my parents try to bring up my behavior to me I start yelling at them about how I’m crazy and they raised a crazy daughter and that everything I do is a result of their own creation. And my dad has offhandedly said to let a (female) pet die after she got injured once, so I bring that up all the time.

I tell him that since he hates women so much he should just shoot me like I know he wants to.

Over the past few months I’ve noticed that one sibling has become extremely paranoid, while the other has gotten very frustrated. My dad avoids me now and my mom is very obedient and quiet.

I don’t feel bad about this, and I know there are other things I could have done, but I feel like this has been worth 25 years of repressed anger. Now that the year is almost over, I’m considering that my New Year’s resolution be to try to fix whatever shit show has become of my family, but that’s not the point.

AITA for taking this revenge, or am I justified in paying them back?

the reason I don’t think I’m the asshole in this situation is that at least for the first several months, they tried doubling down on their bullshit. My mom got more manipulative, pulling out everything she could to make me feel bad for her and to submit to her again. And my dad became violent toward my pet, whom I’m protective of to the point where I’ve told every single person I’ve met that if anything happened to her I would kill everybody and then myself. (Luckily I was able to prevent my dad from actually hurting her, but the fact that he tried drove my goal further).

honestly, my sibling probably didn’t deserve it because we all pretty much ignore each other, but I’m holding the grudges from childhood when they would beat me up and break my stuff.

and before anyone says it, I went to therapy for four years and it just made me more angry

What are these acronyms?

[genderqueerdykes]

Topical or Injectable Testosterone Comparison: Which is Best For You?

i've met a lot of people who are unsure of which route of HRT they'd like to take. there are a lot of pros and cons to each one, I figured I would lay out some information to try to make that decision a bit easier for folks, as someone who has used both.

both forms of testosterone are equally as effective, topical is not "weaker" than injectable, everyone's bodies processes these hormones differently and the effectiveness depends on how your body processes medications, and your dosage.

Topical Testosterone

Taken daily, or for some folks, every few days

Either comes in a bottle with a pump that dispenses measured doses, or will come in a month's worth of small packets or tubes.

Many insurance plans in the United States will not cover topical testosterone for transgender or intersex HRT purposes, and if it is covered, it often costs an exorbitant amount of money- well into the hundreds of dollars

Requires clean skin prior to and covering the skin with clothing after application and avoiding swimming and showering for several hours after application

Hands must be washed afterwards to prevent transmission of the hormone to other people in your environment

Has a strong smell due to the gel being alcohol based

Can cause burning sensation if it accidentally gets into sensitive areas such as mucous membranes, cuts, your eyes, etc.

Can cause skin irritation in some folks, though this is rare

Being an alcohol based gel, it is very flammable, so caution is needed to be practiced around flames until the gel has dried

Can be easy to miss doses if you have chronic fatigue and/or illness, memory problems, mental health issues, or a busy lifestyle

Injectable Testosterone

Usually taken once or twice a week, depending on your needs

Testosterone cypionate is almost always covered by insurance in places where transgender HRT is a part of your plan. It is extremely cheap if it is not covered for whatever reason, usually costing around $15 for a month's worth of vials and syringes, but this can vary wildly depending on your area

Requires needles, syringes, a sharps container (safe container to dispose needles into), alcohol prep pads or isopropyl alcohol or other strong sterilizing agent for the injection site, bandages for applying to the site afterwards, and optionally gloves, but washing your hands prior to injecting works as well

If doing your own injections, you have to learn how to measure your dose accurately, and how to hold the needle at the angle most appropriate for your injections, as well as learning about if you need to do subcutaneous or intramuscular injections

Despite the amount of items required, injections are very quick and can be done and forgotten about until your next injection date- there is no daily maintenance for injections

You must switch up your injection spots every time you inject as to avoid damaging muscle and skin tissue

Injections can be done by endocrinologists and prescribers if you do not feel comfortable doing them yourself

It is possible for your skin to react to, or for you to be allergic to the injecting needles. This is rare, and can be addressed with your prescriber and/or an allergist

Testosterone cypionate will crystalize in cold temperatures. It will change in appearance and consistency, but can be returned to normal by placing the vial into warm water for a while and/or by shaking the vial for a while

this is not meant to be a comprehensive guide, but rather some observations ihave made in my 8 years of being on testosterone HRT. hope this is helpful, we will add anything else we can think of. good luck figuring out what's right for you in your journey

[faggotry-enjoyer]

There's a lot to be upset about re: the response to the recent self-immolation, but one element I haven't seen touched upon much is, well, this shit.

So I found Aaron Bushnell's reddit and went through his comments/posts. That young man was well read and stable as they can be. Nothing in his writings pointed to someone who was "unstable" or "brainwashed".

5.5k note tumblr post

While US media is already spinning the story as one of a mentally ill, troubled youth, Aaron’s own message in the seconds prior to his act demonstrate the moral clarity and foresight with which he pondered and ultimately decided upon his act.

palestinianyouthmovement on instagram

Like, y'all. I thought we had all come to understand that it's possible to be mentally ill or suicidal and perfectly lucid? That being articulate doesn't rule out being "troubled"? What the hell happened to "just because someone looks okay doesn't mean they're okay"? The concept of masking?

This post isn't even about whether his death was an effective protest or if he was genuinely suicidal. Others have spoken on that; don't derail this.

This about the double standards and the inconsistency. People who would previously say that obviously suicidal people can appear fine suddenly using "clarity" as evidence that someone wasn't mentally ill in the slightest. People who talked about mental health and suicide prevention suddenly glorifying this suicide as martyrdom. And for what? To prove a point? Because he agreed with you?

Would you have accepted this rhetoric for anything else? Are you really this willing to throw away vital concepts? Do you really have principles, or do you just have a side?

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

Fade Into You

ResidentEvil4Remake!Leon Kennedy x FemScientist/Pathologist/!Reader

Resident Evil x The Last of Us crossover

A/N: Just a little idea I had lying around. The timelines are a bit jumbled up since the Last of Us and Resident Evil take place in different eras so I made this story takes place in modern time so bear with me here. I hope y'all like it and let me know what you think! 💜

Summary: Imagine being a scientist set with the task of finding a cure for everything that has happened, assigned to return the world to how it once was only to become an assignment for someone else, an agent named Leon S. Kennedy tasked with making sure you are transported safely to your destination.

Warnings: language, some potential suggestive content, blood and gore and violence.

Notes: angst, some comfort and fluff and Leon’s terrible dad jokes and some trauma sprinkled in there.

Time. Time is a strange thing. Nonphysical and always there, always changing, from beginning to end. At the same time, it comes in cycles, repetitions and patterns. A metaphysical figment of creation, a concept constructed and molded to the understanding of the human species. An entity bigger than ourselves, spanning across millions of galaxies, and yet can fit within the palm of our hands. What is time, other than of what we know of it. Often times you found yourself wondering the same thing.

You don't know how long it has been since the outbreak, since the virus that started to plague the earth was first heard on the news, since well..........everything. So much has happened since, you had trouble remembering a lot of it, or any of it for that matter.

You used to work for the CDC, you still do, or what’s left of it, before you were taken against your will................there's not much left of anything anymore. Back then, you were the leading scientist in the department of Cancer Prevention and Control. 'New and upcoming young scientist leads the fight against cancer', titled the articles that were written about you, some of them far too promising and others harshly criticizing and objectifying. You're pretty sure you still have those articles stashed away somewhere, the good, the bad, and the ugly. What for? You’re not sure. Motivation perhaps, if there was any still left in you.

You were the best at your field, nearing a breakthrough for finding the ultimate cure for cancer that targeted the cells at the earliest and even latest stage, diminishing the illness completely as if it had never even existed in the host. You had even been featured on the cover of Life Magazine and the Smithsonian magazine for your work, the photos taken of you wearing your lab coat and standing over your microscope or interacting with your team and your patients. Boy was your father proud, his little girl on the verge of revolutionizing the medical world, he almost always had a hard time believing it, still picturing the day he held you bundled in his arms when you were first born. You were still ever his little girl to him. You could still remember the look on his face, the way he beamed when he found out, buying a copy of both those magazines just to frame it up on the wall as if there wasn’t already enough pictures of you and your little sister throughout your years.

You almost accomplished your mission, almost. You were close, so close. And then the virus took over, the Plagas and then the Cordyceps brain infection. Cancer became the least of worries.

Since the epidemic, you tried to save as much of your family photos as you could. After all, they were the only things left as a reminder of the past, of how things were. It's been so long the pictures almost don't seem real, like something created out of the mind of a delusionist, taken from of the pages of a science fiction novel, an imitation of an alternate reality. Never in you right mind did you think all those flesh-eating zombie movies you snuck out to watch with your sister at the local theater as a teen would feel more true to life than the actual past, the history of the human race.

Every night before you went to sleep, you'd pull out the storage box from under your bed, the one containing your family's photo albums, flipping through each page and staring at the photos of your parents and little sister as a way of forcing your brain to remember them. You believed this was your way of keeping them in your memory, recollecting the moment behind when each photograph was taken as if they were pieces of a broken vase meant to hold all that was you, pieces that sliced at you whenever you tried to put them back together. Truth was, you were afraid, desperate to cling on to the echo of their existence. And so you looked at those photos in a ritualistic manner, each and every night before bed. Truth is, you were starting to forget their faces, their voices, and you knew it.

In the beginning there were many; scientists, doctors, or pathologists or whatever you wanna call them, working on the task that was given to you by the government, each and every one of them fighting for a life of their own and the lives of many. Now they were just names on the diplomas that hung in their offices, names printed under an achievement of the institution they attended, just pieces of paper left to gather dust and be forgotten. Sometimes you wondered if you were the only one left; in your state, your country, the world? Who knows. In the building you worked, there used to be seven, then there were six, then five, then four…………….now there was only you.

Time seems to be nonexistent to you. The clocks on your walls meant nothing, nothing more than some numbers and a bunch of little gears that turn the hands to display the hour. A symbol of endless nothingness. The white walls of the building you worked in were just a place that they happened to hang on. And god you hated those white walls. You’ve lost count of the days you spent locked up within them, with nothing to keep you company except for the lab rats and your own thoughts. It's a wonder you didn't lose your sanity. A time came when you’d question if you’d ever see another human again. It seems as if your prayers were answered.

You were currently sat on the makeshift bed of a small base hideout, staring ahead at the fabric of the military tent that blew slightly against the wind, the makeshift tent that you stayed in after you were rescued, if you would call it that. Being the only woman at a base full of military men had its own fears, and you'd almost rather be out with the infected than here. You don’t know what it’s like anymore, being free I mean, you only remember being held hostage, held in one place to work for the government only to be taken away to work for another before being taken again for your so-called expertise, like an almost endless cycle, as if you were some goods that needed to be traded off and transported from one destination to another until you could no longer be of use.

You couldn't remember much after you were taken by the cult in an attempt to bring back Umbrella Corp or whatever they wished to call themselves, the memory of it all was still as fuzzy as when you first arrived under their "management". Now what would you even call your current circumstance? A formal and civil hostage situation under the label of U.S. personnel? You were only being held for the time being before being sent back to the states to work for whatever was left of the government. And as much as you wanted to go back home, or what's left of it if we're being honest, you've only heard of how worse it has gotten since you left.

“Y/l/n.” One of the soldiers called for you as he opened the flap entrance to your tent, his form casting a shadow across the floor in front of you. “It’s time.”

You gave the soldier a quick nod, grabbing your backpack from the floor and the small pocket knife that you kept under your pillow, stuffing the folded blade in the back pocket of your jeans as you got up and walked out of your tent. You followed the soldier as he led you through the open area where other soldiers were gathered, some of them standing guard, some eating their meals and others standing around leisurely as they conversed with each other. You could feel their eyes on you, watching you tag behind the soldier that was in front of you as he led you to the bigger tent on the other side of the field, the tent where the officers and higher ups held their meetings to discuss important matters.

You heard some voices coming out from inside the tent, two to be exact, discussing something important apparently. It’s all they ever did around here. And as you stepped in after the soldier, you saw the colonel speaking to a man you had never seen before. Tall, blond hair, wearing civilian yet practical clothes with tactical gear over it, unlike everyone else here who donned the military uniforms. He's definitely not military-

“Sir-“ the soldier that led you spoke, alerting the colonel of your presence.

“Ah. There you are.” The colonel turned towards you with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling from his old age as he gestured you over to where he stood at the table that was stationed dead center of the larger tent. “Was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.”

You looked between the two men across from you in the tent once the soldier that was by you had left, allowing you a better view as you only watched with slight uncertainty before approaching the officer. The man whom you did not recognize had looked your way as well, his face not showing a single shift in emotion upon your arrival, but you had managed to notice the slight curious quirk of his brow at seeing you. Who the hell was he?

“Say hello to your assignment,” the colonel gestured towards you as he spoke to the blond man. God you hated being called that, assignment. “Dr. y/n y/l/n."

“Leon S. Kennedy.” The man outstretched his hand, to which you stared at with the blankest look possible.

"............Pleasure." You gave the man a short smile, completely disregarding his offer for a handshake before turning to the older officer and pulling him aside as if the young man wasn’t even present in the first place, watching from the side of your eye as he awkwardly pulled his hand back, a look of hidden puzzlement on his face. You didn't want to seem rude but this was not what you had signed up for, being alone for who knows how long with a man you absolutely did not know.

“Agent Kennedy here is to ensure that you are transported and arrived safely to your destination.” The colonel answered after seeing the silent but scrutinizing look on your face.

So an agent huh. He’s probably as stuck up as the rest of those shit heads you've had to come across. Agent or not, who's to say he isn't like the others.

“What does that have to do with me?"

"Well he's been hired as your bodyguard."

You tried your best not to laugh. "What, some washed up reject of the Backstreet Boys?” You lowered your voice, knowing damn well the agent a few feet away from you could hear everything.

Leon couldn’t help but cock his head back with a slight scoff, not sure if he should be offended by your insult or impressed by the creativity behind it.

“Agent Kennedy is the best in his field. And our job is to make sure you end up safe back in America. I’m afraid you’re much too valuable to be left to wander back on your own.”

You let out a small huff, crossing your arms over your chest with a stern look of contemplation as you eyed the ground beneath your feet before finally folding. He had a point there, it was dangerous out there. But who's to say you should trust him? You had trouble trusting anyone for that matter. "Do you trust the guy?" You looked up at the colonel, knowing better than to trust a man's word but who else was there. There wasn't really anyone here to protect you but yourself.

"Agent Kennedy is a good man, reliable, I assure you."

You don't know that. "............then I suppose I have no choice but to take your word then." You sighed, knowing there wasn't really a way out of this.

“Good. Go easy on him alright.” The colonel straightened up, placing his hand on the back of your shoulder as he led you back to where the other man stood.

"Agent Kennedy, I trust you'll keep Miss y/l/n here safe."

"Yes sir." Leon nodded his head, attempting to send you a kind smile as if to say you were in good hands but you only stared off into the distance, still unhappy with the decision made. As long as it meant you went back home. Home. Jesus. You don't even know what was awaiting you there.

"She can be quite stubborn at times but you'll get used to it." The older officer added with a chuckle to which you shot back with a quick glare.

"Well that's fine by me." Leon smiled. "I'm a patient man." If only he knew how much you were going to drive him up the wall.

"Well here is the location where she needs to be dropped off." The officer handed Leon a piece of paper. If you have any questions, you know who to call."

"Copy that."

"Can I have a handgun-"

"No." The colonel was quick to interrupt your question. "That won't be necessary."

"Fine." You mumble to yourself. "Guess I'll just use my butter knife then."

Leon quietly watched the interaction between the two of you, slowly getting a clue about the personality of who he was going to be spending the upcoming days with, and he wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. He too would have opted for the same response as the colonel since you didn't look like the type to have ever fired a gun, much less used any weapon at all. And what exactly did you mean by butter knife? Should he be worried?

"Well you'd better get going, you don't want to be traveling at night, not with what's out there."

"Yes sir." Leon nodded his head at the colonel before heading out of the tent.

You turned to follow the tall blond but were stopped by the officer who held his hand up. "Not just yet. I have something here for ya."

You watched as the colonel pulled out a large black case, clicking open the clasps before opening it to reveal a hunting rifle nestled safely inside.

"I thought you said I couldn't have a gun."

"No, I said you couldn't have a handgun."

The colonel stepped aside, allowing you room to take a step closer to examine the rifle better. Was that? You'd recognize that wooden stock anywhere.

"My dad's rifle. How?"

"Had someone retrieve it from your old place. I'm guessing you know how to use it, judging from the way you recognized it so quickly."

"I-Thank you....sir."

"Just make sure you get your ass back to the lab in one piece." The colonel pulled the rifle out from the case before handing it to you, along with a box of some ammo.

"Of course." You sent the colonel a short smile, putting the box of ammo into your backpack before taking the rifle from his hands, feeling the weight of the thing within your grasp, recognizing each scuff mark and scratch that lined the wooden body, the little signs of wear and tear caused by your own clumsiness, each of them reminding you of the times spent with your father at the range when he taught you how to use the thing. It even smelled of him, after all this time. If you weren’t in a public setting you would have curled up into a ball and cried, holding the rifle close to your frame as if it were the remnants of your father, the man who raised and protected you for the majority of your life. And in a way, it was.

"Stay safe out there kid."

“Sure thing.” You gave a nod, slinging the strap of the rifle over your shoulder as you pushed the memories and emotions away, heading over to the entrance of the tent until the colonel called out again.

“Hey kid.”

“Yeah?” You turned back to face the older gentleman. It wasn’t long, the time that you’ve known him, but he seemed to be the only one that looked out for you, the only one that stood up for you when the other soldiers harassed you and uttered vulgar things in your direction.

“Try not to get separated from Agent Kennedy.”

“Can’t promise that.” You turned back around, raising your hand to send him a wave goodbye before pushing aside the flap of the entrance and stepping out into the sunlight. Well, this is it. Another day, another journey.

You were met outside of the tent with Agent Kennedy, who seemed to have been waiting outside the whole time, hopefully not eavesdropping, not that there was anything important or personal said back there but you just didn’t like people listening in on your conversations.

Straightening up, Leon gave a quick glance over your form before eyeing the rifle on your back. That definitely was not there before. “Where the hell did you get that thing?"

Christ this man talks too damn much and you just met him.

Rolling your eyes, you ignored his question, or rather his whole presence as you headed towards the truck that was set out for you. As much as you didn't want to be rude, you were anxious to get the hell out of this place and return to a place that you at least knew.

“Never mind I guess.” Leon muttered to himself before trying to catch up with you ahead. Jesus you walked with purpose.

Opening up the passenger door of the truck, you threw your backpack and rifle in the backseat before seating yourself in the passenger seat, putting on your seatbelt as you watched Leon walk up to the truck, still a couple feet away.

“Can this dude be any slower?” You muttered under your breath with a roll of your eyes, propping your elbow up on the door window as you stared out of it.

“Someone’s eager to get out of here.” Leon chuckled at the way you had situated yourself so quickly along with the obvious impatient expression that sat on your face as he opened the driver door before getting in himself, putting the keys into the ignition to start the car.

“So uh..........” Leon adjusted the rear view mirror before placing a hand on the back of your seat as a way to back the car out of the parking spot while you only studied his movements from the corner of your eye before glancing out the widow again. Why did you have a gut feeling this guy wasn’t the best driver. “where to huh? My place or yours?” Leon cracked a smug grin, hoping to lighten the mood judging from the unease you must have felt to be left with a complete stranger but quickly changing his mind after seeing the absolute foul, confidence-shattering side-eye that you just threw him.

If this man doesn't shut up-

"Right-" Leon cleared his throat, his expression changing back to his usual resting one as he looked back ahead, changing the gear to reverse as he backed out of the parking spot. Not even a minute with you and he could already tell you were going to be a blast to be around. You were the complete opposite of Ashley. And as much as he preferred a quiet atmosphere, he'd rather take his chances with Ashley all over again.

Some silence had passed between the two of you once you hit the road and left the base behind, the only sounds being the humming of the car and the wind outside. The drive was scenic in a way, if it were not for the situation at hand. But watching the trees and landscape blur by through the car window almost reminded you of the drives you went on with your father and sister, transporting you back to the road trips where the three of you would listen to the radio while fighting over who's turn it was to play the next song.

You missed your father softly singing along to his music that you at one time used to be annoyed by, your sister and you referring to his taste in music as the "Ancient Ballads of Babylon". And oh how he used to get defensive over it, calling it the "good stuff unlike todays junk", though he was never able to hide back the smile from your little slanders. What you would do to listen to his music again, to be in his truck sitting in the passenger seat reading a book before crawling to the backseat to take a nap with your sister, her head resting on your lap while your rested yours against the window.

Due to how quiet you were, Leon couldn't help but to glance over in your direction to make sure you were still alive, noticing the way you had become lost in thought, your gaze seeming to reach miles away. His eyes traced down to the subtle movement of your hands, watching how your fingers toyed with the dainty beaded bracelet that sat at your right wrist. There were a couple white beads situated together, printed with small black letters that formed a word, or rather a name, but before he could have a chance at reading what it was, you had noticed him looking, causing you to swiftly pull the sleeve of your loose sweater over your wrist. The sudden movement from you had caused Leon to clear his throat as he snapped his head back to the road, as if embarrassed at being caught before clearing his throat. "So uh, are you some bigwig's daughter? The president had requested you specifically."

The president? There was still a president? Well shit.

"Look. I'm just trying to know what I'm dealing with here." Leon put his hand up in defense after the annoyed expression you gave him.

You shook your head lightly at his behavior, heaving out a released breath as you propped your arm up once more, resting your head against your hand and discretely wiping away the tear that was starting to fall down the corner of your eye.

"Doctor huh. What are you, UCLA grad? You strike me as a LA city kind of girl-"

"Harvard." You interrupted.

"So you do speak." Leon shot you a quick smirk, surprised at your sudden input before staring back at the road. "Thought it was just me but....looks like I struck a nerve here. Sooo......Harvard huh? You must be pretty brainy then, surviving a med school like that."

"............" Dear god please.

"You know, you look a little young to be a doctor."

Geez, if that isn't the first time you've heard that one. You wished the man would just shut up and focus on the road. You swore that if he somehow ended up sending the car off a cliff you were going to personally strangle the blond yourself. Actually, come to think of it, if he talked any more you just might take the wheel and drive off a cliff yourself.

"I take it you're not much of a talker." Leon commented on the way you so obviously tried to ignore him. Jesus, did he rub you the wrong way or what. Or was it just the Ivy League attitude? He had heard the talk amongst his old colleagues back at the station about the Ivy League folk that would sometimes come through the town. Overly-educated and stuck up, some of the officers would call them.....if you consider calling someone overly-educated an insult. Perhaps this was what they meant? Seems like you didn't want to even be associated within the same proximity as him.

Rolling your eyes, you twisted around in your seat to reach for your bag, pulling it onto your lap and opening up the zipper before digging into the contents inside.

Leon watched you with curiosity, opening his mouth to ask just what it was you were up to before seeing you pull out a pair of headphones and a portable CD player that looked like you stole right out of the 90s. Keeping the backpack on your lap, you slipped the headphones onto your head, pressing play on the device before pulling your feet up onto the seat and turning towards the window so that your back faced the man in the driver seat.

Leon couldn't help but to shake his head with a light chuckle, taking this as a sign to shut the hell up and let you be in your own little bubble. Maybe you’re just shy. Or maybe you just don’t like him. Or maybe you’ve been through a lot. Who knows.

You watched the trees once more, listening to the song that played through the speakers of your headphones, Fade Into You by Mazzy Star, letting the soft tunes soothe your nerves. And as much as you tried to force yourself to stay awake in order to stay alert for your own safety, you couldn’t help the drowsiness that took over you. The music playing through your headphones, the blur of the trees out the window, and the subtle vibration of the moving car only added to that effect. And slowly, you let yourself slip, your eyelids growing heavy as you finally shut your eyes.

The drive had felt like hours for Leon, but he didn't mind as much. In fact, this was sort of relaxing, just driving, listening to music he enjoyed as it played softly from the radio, the volume lowered as means to not disturb you. This mission was turning out to be less stressful than the others. Or maybe he shouldn't speak too soon.

The young agent would occasionally find himself glancing over in your direction, perhaps to make sure you were okay and weren't dead. He had a bad habit of making sure the people under his care were alive and well and not breathing their last breath….if you would call that a bad habit. As much as this man hides it behind his cold exterior, I am positive he is just as panicky as the rest of us.

Your lack of movement had started to worry the blond, seeing that you have stayed in that position for a couple hours now as he began to wonder just what the hell you could have been doing the whole time in order to stay in the same exact position. (He has his himbo moments.) But the slow shifting of your form had relieved the young man as he watched you turn over on your other side to now face him, getting a glimpse of your closed lids behind the strands of your loose hair that almost covered the look of calm on your face, hearing the small moan that came from your chest in your state of sleep as you shifted around while your brows furrowed together at the center in a look that he could only describe as discomfort from your curled up position on the passenger seat.

One thing he had noticed though, if he listened close enough, he could hear the slight and faint whistle of the air rushing through your nostrils each time you breathed, a sign that usually meant a deviated septum. He didn’t know why, but that tiny detail had somehow set his mind at ease…something so insignificant…so barely noticeable unless you really paid attention to it…almost as if it had made you more human. And the thought of it was comforting to him.

As he looked over your sleeping form, he couldn’t help but to take note of the details that made you: of your hair that looked as if it had not been brushed through, or the dark circles under your eyes, or the little bump on your nose at the bridge, or the faint signs of hyperpigmentation and small little acne scars that lined certain areas of your face, or the light dust of freckles on your nose that were barely visible unless you really took a closer look. Even down to your wardrobe, your oversized navy blue v-neck sweater and the white tee you wore underneath, and your loose-fitted jeans, and your worn in black doc martens. Leon did not know how to describe it, but there was something comforting about you, something that made him feel…at ease. And maybe…just maybe, this mission might not be as bad as he once thought.

Part 2?

[sirenjose]

Orpheus' 2nd Character Day Letter

If the purpose of the loan had to do with a clinic and hospital, that implies the loan was likely due to someone being ill or injured. For the wealthy obviously implies who the borrower was.

Considering this is Orpheus' letter, and we know the DeRoss couple was "wealthy" (based on the original Oletus Manor backstory, comments Alice makes, Burke and Bonbon's deductions, and Orpheus' tale, especially with how the massacre to some extent had to do with greed), the DeRoss couple were likely the borrowers. That and it specifically has the context of the time of the "incident" based on the Oletus Family massacre. This matches with the Borrower (likely Dennis, especially as the line about the borrower uses the word "him") being deceased, and his family also being deceased (his wife) or missing (Alice).

If Dennis was the borrower, it seems likely he acquired the loan for someone in his family, meaning the purpose of the loan was 1 of them. In Time of Reunion, 1 of the lines Orpheus hears talks about the mother's (Dennis' wife and Alice's mother) condition worsening. Ergo, she was who the loan was for.

This lines up with a page from the artbook, which actually discusses Dennis' wife's affliction:

Dear ◼︎︎

Your wife's lung cancer is getting worse again and you need to implement more advanced treatment.

Unless you pay for her medical care as soon as possible, we cannot do anything for her.

◼︎︎ Doctor, 1887

Then there's the question of the lender. Based on the mention of "advanced treatment", it's likely the loan was quite large and thus the lender must've been similarly wealthy, especially if even someone of the DeRoss couple's wealth couldn't afford it. Of course, someone we know that is wealthy and has ties to the DeRoss couple, my first thought is the Barriere family.

First to mind is Count Barriere, who we know is very wealthy, is tied to shady happenings, had a signature on the same page as Dennis, and we know he gives out loans based on the IOU owned by someone with the signature "D" that he wants Lily to reclaim. It's not guaranteed to be him though, not to mention the IOU Lily is after is still to be paid and is tied to "Mediterranean Development" and a copy of Orfeo, while the loan in this letter was "repaid 2 weeks after the tragedy".

We know it can't be Lily's father, Reger, but Reger was said to only be the 2nd son. So it's possible maybe the 1st son gave out this loan. The only reference to a Barriere that isn't confirmed to be Count Barriere is from Freddy's 4th letter, which references a "Keogh & Barriere law office". Though it may feel a bit odd if the co-partner for the law office referenced here is the one that has been imprisoned for so long. It's possible the 1st son isn't related to this law office, but he still could have given the loan.

Though it'd also be curious if the 1st son was tied to this law office and the lender for this loan considering Freddy, a financial advisor, in that case would be connected via both his 4th letter and his mention in Orpheus' 2nd letter.

There's also how Freddy's background mentions a "failed lawsuit" in his past. If Freddy is his the lender's lawyer, I wonder if this could be the "failed lawsuit" from Freddy's past (especially if it happened at least 5 years ago). He should still be his lawyer even if Freddy lost the lawsuit and couldn't prevent his client from being imprisoned. And if his client were a Barriere, maybe that could tie at least somewhat to why after this failed lawsuit Freddy's life seemed to decline after, based on after that case Freddy was said to be "toiling away at a menial job with a pathetic wage". With someone as high up as the Barriere family, it's possible he could've suffered some sort of punishment or something for being unable to prevent him from being imprisoned.

This is just a bunch of my current thoughts, so who knows what's right.

I do find it curious the loan was paid 2 weeks after the tragedy. I wonder if either someone paid it off for Dennis, or if maybe the manor was seized and used to pay it off, and thus potentially how it could then be bought by Manus, and then later bought by Orpheus.

As for the loan being signed 6 months before the massacre, I do admit I wonder if it's possible it is connected somehow someway to why the massacre happened at all (which I still wonder if Barriere helped cause).

Though if Dennis was wealthy, was he just having trouble paying for his wife's treatment because it was a very expensive treatment, or I wonder if people stealing from his manor (based on Bonbon's deduction 4 that implies Orpheus's parents, maybe helped by Orpheus himself or not, were taking "valuable items" from the manor due to their greed) was causing Dennis enough trouble that he was forced to ask for a loan rather than be able to pay himself. If so, I wonder if that was on purpose to pressure Dennis (to what end, I don't know. Why was it important for all of this to happen if so?), but maybe I'm thinking too hard again.

(Doing this at all because I enjoyed having an actually interesting letter for once, compared to what we're getting for people's 5th character days, enough to talk again. Will see how I continue to feel. Still taking it easy)