#the kidnapper’s FECKED

[fandomwritingbit-main]

Tanner kidnapping a reader (Scrutinized Game)

WARNING: about kidnapping, lots of swearing and reference to a gun and syringe. (Mdni)

Notes: Tanner from the game scrutinized kidnapping the reader ig lol. I'm not gonna apologise for changing Tanner's personality a bit, whilst I love how weird and nerdy he is in the game's true ending, nothing like you'd imagine a fecking kidnapper, I wanted to make him a bit more ... idk banter-y and he is definitely english-ified cos its the only way that ik how to write lol.

~

Rolling your eyes, you open the Suspicious Person Report, annoyed because anyone would  be surprised how many of these reports were faked. It seems that some people like to file random things just for the banter. It makes you angry. Sitting here, back stiff, eyes aching, on your third cup of coffee in as many hours; with arseholes wasting your time with false reports. The one you were skimming through now, involved a young woman who's neighbours had overheard screaming and other worrying noises coming from her house. Seems interesting at a first glance but a quick look at her social medias through SocialSpy, told you that once again, nothing was wrong. She was a goddamn streamer who'd just had a horror marathon - of-pissing-course. A joke really that some stepford wife lady would file this. Come on, it doesn't take Sherlock to tell if screaming is on a TV or not.

You close all your investigative tabs and drag the SPR to the shredder, happy that another report was sorted, but exasperated that there were upwards of ten to go. Alas, not a lot you can do. But before you can open the next report, you remind yourself to check the security cameras. A lot of rumours had been circling that criminals were stepping up their game in targeting people like you, a extra precautions were warranted.

When your SecCam app connected, you saw nothing as expected. Flicking through haphazardly, you see something move. The grainy quality of the camera made it hard to see what it was, but there was something. You zoom in and the view of your front garden becomes more and more pixilated. Whatever had moved and caught your eye - was gone and your brain decided to blame it on the neighbours cat. You ignore it and return to the SPR.

~

Just as you are looking through a later report your connection dies. Damn it. God damn it. You say to yourself as you strain to get up from your desk. Back aching. Once again, just a as you were mid-processing a case, seconds away from finalisation, the wifi disconnected. This was ludicrous.

Nervously you turn around, an odd feeling of being exposed crossed you. And a small part of your brain imagined what would happen is someone was there. Those new BOLOs had you rattled. Mercifully there was nothing, just your empty living room, illuminated by a dimming light bulb and the hypnotising light of your desktop. This was an inconvenience, an inconvenience that could cause you to miss a case. Absolutely ridiculous.

You huff your way down the hall, periodically looking behind you to settle your frantic nerves. You wore a pistol on your hip that was heavy and cold to the touch. It was dangerous and personally you didn't agree with the gun control laws in your country, however when in your line of work, it helped to have some protection. Working for the law and convicting the evil bastards of the world, made you a massive target for the ones in hiding. That is why being exposed in the hallway worried you so much. And to top it off, as you walked past the bathroom you were sure you heard someone whisper something.

It sent shivers down your spine and implored you to gingerly pry open the bathroom door... it was empty. The small room completely as you left it, untouched, the window still bolted. Hearing things, you conclude and scurry out of the room, closing the door behind you. Was it possible to be so tired that you could imagine an intruder? Perhaps...

Swiftly reaching your target - the cupboard in your room - you reset the wifi dongle, wait for it to sort itself out, then turn it back on. All done, now back to work.

As you open the door to the room and step out, a noise made you freeze. Looking up you see a man wearing a white lab coat peeking at you around the corner. Your heart stopped, as dread clawed up your spine. Unable to move, you could only watch as the perpetrator put a finger to his lips mischievously and ducked back, disappearing from your view.

It was utterly silent and you had no idea what to do. You could move now, your brain regaining control, but devastatingly you had no other choice than to confront your new house guest.

Each step towards the living room was torturous, the sound bouncing through the apartment - allowing the assailant to know of your every move. But unbeknownst to him, you were strapped.

You round the corner, the gun now clutched tightly in your palm. He was nowhere to be seen...

Fuck.

It took you a moment to realise that the cupboard next to the corner was closed. Unlike before. You had him. There was no where else he could be, except there. Hiding in the cupboard, waiting for you to open it - no doubt he would then pounce, attacking you in whatever way he had planned. You felt comfort in the knowledge of where he was, but now you had no choice but to "introduce yourself".

Breathing to steady your nerves, you point the gun at the door. And speak.

"Listen here you prick, I have a gun. Open the door slowly and I might not use it." You tried to speak in an authoritarian manner, but the fear in your voice could be heard. Inside the cupboard you could hear the man laughing. As he chuckled, the door knob began turning.

Seconds later the man emerged, arms raised slightly, as a form of surrender. You notice a syringe of unknown liquid held between two of his fingers.

"Well... this is awkward." The assailant said, finding some humour, even though you had him at gun point.

"No shit. Drop the syringe." You had more weight to your voice now you had him in your sights and the element of surprise was gone.

"I'd rather not. This stuff is expensive." He spoke with a level of intelligence and perhaps even mockery, it annoyed you, but you had to keep calm.

"Put it on the table then... just get rid of it." He laughed at you again.

"I'd rather put it in your neck, but... sure." The man walked slowly towards the side table and placed his syringe down. He then turned sharply to look at you.

The swiftness of the movement made you jump, but you managed to stifle it and keep your pistol aimed at him. He gave you a look that you interpreted as, 'what now?' You'd already decided however and were hesitant to commit. Alas you followed your training, and swung the gun at the man's head in a futile attempt to knock him unconscious.

Much to your anguish, the perpetrator grabbed your arm just as it was about to collide with his skull.

"Nearly dear..." he tutted. You wrench your arm free, and point the gun back at him. Your breath is shaking and your chest raises up and down sporadically. The reality that he very easily could have disarmed you, didn't go amiss. He was around six foot and probably weighed a lot more than you, and yet he didn't try to take the gun away from you. It was unnerving.

"Go sit. Over there." You rasp, almost becoming unhinged.

"You know, I'm beginning to think that you are all talk, dear. Is the gun even loaded?"

In spite of yourself (and your situation) you sniggered,

"Yeah, and if you want to find out for sure, I can show you." You gesture harshly with the gun as you speak, shaking it at the assailant.

He mouthed "oooooooh" in a school yard way, blatantly making fun of you.

The intruder paced his way to the chair in the corner and took a seat, placing one foot on the others knee and looking surprisingly relaxed. It was clear to you that there is something wrong with this guy, what sick person finds humour and even pleasure from being held at gun point.

"Are you going to tie me up?... its not my thing... but I'll try it." Much to your dismay you couldn't stop a smirk grazing your lips, what an audacious prick, a lascivious, salacious bastard. The smile was in sheer disbelief and a small part of you had some admiration for his unbothered attitude, and the offender found this monstrously funny. You hung your head in shame attempting to conceal the snickering. Feeling almost embarrassed, like giggling in front of a strict teacher. However you kept your head on straight and got to work fulfilling this creep's kink.

~

"Nice and tight." You muttered, as you triple checked the security of the rope. You were curious about this man, what his motives are, why he hadn't tried to escape, who he was; so you grabbed another chair and set it in front of the criminal.

He was handsome, for a potential kidnapper. He had a perfect jawline that appeared to be sculpted by the Gods. Additionally he had immaculate dark hair, not a single strand out of place. And his eyes, god, his eyes. They were dark hazel, entrapped by long eyelashes and it was clear that they housed a very intelligent and well-educated soul. Why the hell, would someone like him do this? He could be a model, for God's sake. You clear your head and remember the situation, now is not the time to admire someone.

"Who are you?" You spoke sternly, awaiting an answer, suddenly tired of everything.

"Why, isn't this an interesting method." He mused, was he attempting to rile you up? If so, it was working. For goodness sake it was 4:43 in the morning, you didn't have time for this.

"Come on, what is your name? I need something to put on the report." this was true.

"Tanner, sweetheart. And you're y/fn. You're 27 and a private investigator... I know all about you." He tilted his head to one side, looking you up and down whilst he stretched the word all. It was clear that this Tanner guy had done his research.

"Why are you here? What do you want from me?" You were impatient now. It felt like you were getting no answers. And this bastards cheery disposition and mocking tone was royally pissing you off. But despite all his unbothered front, sat now opposite him you noticed the bouncing of his leg: he was nervous. That made you smile, his stage personality clearly wasn't as thorough as he'd have liked. Tanner shook his head in response to your questioning.

"Come on, leave something to the imagination." He smiled as he spoke, acting as if this were a normal conversation.

You stood up, rubbing your eyes. You need a break. It was as if the nights events were all coming down on you at once. Looking back at your prisoner, you decided to go and file the report now... and question this prick later.

"Where are you going? Bored already? They weren't kidding when they said you never stopped." He was trying to engage you, egg you on, and although you were interested, you knew that you needed 10 minutes to get your head together. You make the decision and walk off, sitting in your room, leaving the door open.

Turning on your work phone, you opened your emails and began formulating a report. You fill in what little information you know,

Name : Tanner (allegedly)

Age : 25-35

Education: n/a - Obviously highly educated (manner of speech ect)

Height : around 6ft

Weight : n/a

Eyes : brown/hazel

Hair : br...

However it wasn't long before exhaustion took hold and keeping your eyes open became impossible. You fall asleep lying back on your bed, your phone still on and abandoned beside you.

~

A while later, you jolt awake... or attempt to, as something held you down firm. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust and take in what you were seeing.

"Good morning..." the voice was Tanner's and reality hit you like a tonne of bricks. He was straddling you, his legs gripping your hips tightly. While one of his hands lightly caressed your face. His finger moved from you cheekbone to your lips and made the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention.

"Sleep well?" He added, no meaness in his voice, only mockery. It was then that you caught sight of the syringe clasped in his hand. The same one from earlier. How stupid of you to not remove it. He noticed your horrified expression and put two and two together.

"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt." He cooed.

He moved his position to hold your hands together in one of his and moved the syringe closer to you. The point was pressed against the side of your neck, then slowly traced further down, causing you to shiver. Your heart skipped a beat when he leaned in closer, so close that you could feel the sensation of his breath on your skin.

"Not up to playing? That's okay... soon we'll have all the time in the world..." you gasped at the statement, understanding what was about to transpire. Your eyes opened even wider as you thrashed underneath him. All your attention was fixated on the syringe and its inevitable insertion.

"God," he muttered, almost whispering in your ear. "tonight is going to be great."

And with that, the syringe was pressed into your throat, you couldn't feel anything, or see anything for that matter. All that remained was the thought that this monster was kidnapping you.

Then everything went black.

~

if you made it this far, imma shoot my shot: have a looksie at fandomwritingbit (my side blog for exactly this sort of thing) I’m always after writing some Tanner stuff sfw and not, so give us a shout. 

#scrutinized #scrutinized game #wttg 3 #wttg #welcome to the game 3 #scrutinized tanner #tanner scrutinized #tanner grayton #cw drugging #tw drugging #tw stalking #cw stalking #villain #tanner x reader #luna youngman

[thelegolashairappreciationclub]

I adore "Maedhros and Maglor in the war of the rings" AUs

(and I think I've come up with my favourite one yet)

Timeline to be figured out but:

Celebrimbor as a test before making the 3 elven rings decides to craft his uncles a final gift using the methods that Annatar has imparted (Of course it's not entirely light magic but he doesn't know that yet.) What he intends to make is a ring of protection that defends them from the teeth of the Oath but instead what he makes is a ring that protects them from themselves. The Oath is a magic bound in their minds and thus so is the protection of the rings so when Maedhros and Maglor recieve them what they basically turn into is rings of self preservation. Mae tries to throw himself into a chasm and finds himself turning around and walking away against his will. Maglor wanders around fading but keeps finding himself back in rivendell whenever he's on the cusp until eventually he gives up and settles there. I imagine Mae eventually realises he can't Just Fecking Die and he refuses to fall to what little of the enemy is left and going back to the elves would result in being held prisoner (he assumes, ya boy's paranoid ok) instead of executed. So instead he just says "Well Sauron had allies in the east didn't he? 😈 " And goes off to cause problems on purpose in a way that's useful.

All this wandering and futility carries them right through the first war against Sauron so neither of them are really involved aside from Sauron suddenly losing allies in the east and a really pesky loner who keeps singing random patrols to death around the coast.

However, then the quest of the mountain happens. And all of a sudden there's rumours of a redheaded elf who speaks Khuzdul living with the dwarves but by the time Elrond gets a message to Erebor like "???" Dain is like "oh he's long gone already, didn't find what he was looking for."

By this point Maglor has been living with Elrond for a few centuries and had no idea Maedhros was still alive and basically just disappears instantly. To which Elrond is like "Great.. now there's TWO unattended, feral dads wandering the continent 🙄." Fast forward a couple of decades and Maglor shows up like a cat leaving mice on your doorstep with Maedhros in tow, who is distinctly unhappy with this arrangement. Still, eventually Mae stops hissing and biting long enough to actually bond with his family again. (Especially since Elrond knows how the rings function and has ordered that no one is allowed to remove them for mae or mags.) And things start actually looking up for the kidnapp fam.

But then sh*t gets interesting. Because the one ring appears in rivendell.

(I will probably continue and elaborate on this when its not 2am)

#the silmarillion #lotr #lotr au #maedhros #maglor #i will explain when i can words more #but the gist is that everyone goes well if someone were going to appropriate an extremely powerful magic item to fight sauron #its probably the guy who stole an extremely powerful item and really hates sauron #but obvi actually giving the feanorions the one ring is a bad idea #so instead they decide to be a distraction for the main quest #they head straight to gondor through the pass be isengard #probably fist fighting saruman on the way #the whole time sauron is like ah yes the elven lords are coming to foil my plans #too busy to notice the fellowship wrecking all his stuff in the background #it'll be fun

[tardytothepardy]

hm

Ok, so I've just finished reading through Gakuen Alice, the whole finale and everything, and I kinda feel like it was either rushed, or missing something. There were just weird elements to it, and stuff that doesn't make sense to me.

(massive spoilers for a lot of the series below, just an fyi)

So, in the finale, Mikan's been taken away from Alice Academy, and has been away from it for a couple years. She has no memory of anything from that time, though she sometimes still gets hit by intense emotions unexpectedly, most likely parts of her memory trying to get through. She's a high school student, she's 16 years old, and apparently there's recently been an incident of kidnappings in the area that seem to specifically target girls around her age.

So when she goes down to the beach with her two friends, simply called Sa-chan and Shi-chan, and a bunch of shit starts going down, there's reason to panic, right? Ahh, there's a bunch of men here that I don't know that are going to kidnap me!!! But then, another group of men that she doesn't know show up and beat them up! Whoa! Then, randomly, for some reason, one of her friends just smooshes up her face and suddenly she's an entirely different person. But that's not all. All these new strange men seem to know her, and they have crazy powers! There's one guy who just made all the kidnappers pass out with a wave of his hand! Another guy seemed to just make fire spring out of nowhere! What the fuck??

I just,, the way that Narumi and Tsubasa and Natsume and Tonouchi and fuckin,,, everyone else just seems to think it's so funny and wacky that Mikan, who does not remember any of them, is freaking out and thinking they are going to kidnap her, it bothers me. Like, imagine just going through your day, then a bunch of weird men who act like they know you surround you completely, then just laugh at you when you freak out. What the hell.

I just generally have gripes about how the characters act, basically. It's just fucking weird to me, idk. Could it be due to the fact that I read all of this within the span of maybe three days? Sure. But still.

Starting off, I just have to talk about how Natsume,,, acted? behaved? responded? something,, to Mikan. He fecking grabbed her wrist (and uh, again, she hasn't remembered who any of these people are yet) and just fuggin stares at her. Sure, that does trigger something in Mikan's memory, and she's starting to vaguely re-remember stuff, but then he just??? grabs her chest????? What????? WHy?? Would??? you??? do?? that????? I just,,, I know that he did do shit like that earlier in the series, constantly making comments about how flat her chest was (YOUR HONOR SHE'S FECKING TEN YEARS OLD WHAT'S YOUR DEFENSE) and looking down her shirt or whatever, but,, from around the first Christmas party onwards, he never pulled any of that shit. He never made comments about any of that weird shit, none of that. I (foolishly, apparently) thought that he had,, I dunno,, kinda moved on from that whole,,,, assault,,, thing,,, but no. Guess not.

And like, at this point, idk how old he would be, but probably around 17 ish years old. Wh-- why?? What,, what-- WHY DID HE DO THAT??? WHY DID HE THINK THAT WAS A CORRECT THING TO DO??? It was bad enough when they were younger and actually knew each other, it's fucking gross and uncomfortable now that they're both older and SHE DOESN'T FUCKING REMEMBER WHO THE FUCK HE IS. To her, he's just some random creep who groped her? Ah, teenage romance, what a dream~~

After that.... incident, a few other things happen, but he just fucking grabs her (she still hasn't fully realized what is going on or who any of these random men are) and fukkin yells at her for leaving the school before he woke up, all those years ago. Dude, buddy, pal, friendo, she didn't have any control over any of that shit. She wasn't the reason that Nodacchi brought him back a week or so after Mikan left, she didn't know any of that!! She was waiting that whole time, but she didn't have any control over when Nodacchi would bring back Natsume, I just,,, why. It annoys me immensely.

(i'm rereading through the whole interaction again and uh,, yeah that one panel where he's holding her and just starts talking about shit that she doesn't remember or understand and then fuggin says "You are mine"??? UH,, DUDE?? NO. STOP. Props to Mikan for not losing her shit bc I definitely would. I'd be having a panic attack or something, this is an intensely stressful situation and I just,,, The sighs that I am sighing are so intense. Disappointment is accompanying every exhale, I stg.)

It is only after Mikan absorbs that fragment of her first Alice stone that she even starts to remember stuff and I just,, I do not like it.

Moving on from that, Ruka. What's up with him. What's he been doing this whole time. Idk. He just feels weird to me. Maybe it's the fact that everyone's all grown up and all seem to be experiencing a particularly nasty case of same-face-syndrome, but he just seems so,,, bland? Empty? There's something off about it, I don't get it. I mean, at least Ruka doesn't try to do something to Mikan when she hasn't remembered who tf he is, so he has that going for him.

At least he has a purpose beyond just standing there: it's to give Mikan those earbuds that Hotaru made, and they allow for Mikan to hear Hotaru's voice which spurs her to become determined to find her. (Also apparently whenever this is all taking place, that is actually Mikan's birthday. Some point in the summer, I think? I can't say for sure without checking the wiki.) (ok so I looked at the wiki and it says her birthday is May 17th, so, yeah.)

But yeah I just,, after Mikan remembers everything and agrees that she wants to find Hotaru, the entire Class B from when Mikan was in the Alice Academy is suddenly transported there, and among the things that I saw, I saw that Nobara and Persona,,, had a kid??? What??? I'm confused. Never mind the fact that he's probably like twice her age, easily, but like,,, where tf did that come from? I don't get why that happened. It's weird. Why? Why was that a thing? I'm confused.

I'm not sure that I'm just underwhelmed, I think I'm also kinda disappointed, honestly. The series had been picking up so much steam, there were so many things going on, feelings were developing and growing, and I was completely caught up in it. But after the scene where Hotaru and Subaru sacrifice themselves so that Mikan can be with Natsume in the future I just,, wasn't really feeling it? I mean, I was crying all the way through to when Mikan was being taken out of Alice Academy, that was sad and stuff, but then the last few chapters just felt so rushed. So many things (but it also felt like too few things) were just piled on top of each other, one thing after another, I didn't feel anything. I was expecting to be elated once Mikan and Natsume were reunited, after all, that was the whole reason why Hotaru sacrificed herself. I fuckin watched him die, and I was screaming and rocking around in my chair and hyperventilating, I was caught up in all of that. But when Mikan did remember everything and stuff, I was fine. "Oh, cool. That's nice." I don't even know why, honestly.

I think, really, that (and this sounds questionable) I preferred everyone as kids. Because up to this point, they've all been kids. The way that they act are the ways that kids act (more or less, no kid should be through a fraction of what these kids were through), and I became familiar with them. But now everyone's grown up, they're almost adults, but since this is the finale, there isn't time to show how people have changed, and so they just feel one-dimensional. Like, I think one of the main reasons why Natsume's actions threw me off so much was that, like I said, it seemed like he had dropped that behavior (of um, groping, assaulting, harassment, stuff like that) kinda early on in the story. From at least the first Christmas party and onward, he never made weird comments, he just didn't do weird shit, and that's why it's so weird that that's what he decided to do. "Hey, how I can jog the memory of the girl that I fell in love with all those years ago? Well, I suppose I can grab her chest and comment on how it's bigger. That seems like a solid plan." Dude, what? No.

This whole encounter, of finding Mikan, was a thing that was thought about, almost certainly planned, for who knows how long, but it just kinda feels like they (the entire group) had like, a week, to come up with a plan to find Mikan, try to get her memories back, and then ???? something???

It's weird, I'm tired, and kinda disappointed. Which is really sad, because I really liked the story up until the finale. I almost feel like there's something else, to the story. That chapter 180 isn't the end, but that's as far as I could read it, so that's all I could get from it.

#honestly part of me was kinda scared of this #I tried to not amp up my anticipation for it too much #maybe i ended up doing it anyway #if i do end up reading this series again (which I probably will) hopefully the ending won't feel so weird #part of it might be the fact that I'm not reading the actual books (bc they only got translated up to vol. 15 or so in English) #so I'm actually reading a fan-translation so it might not be exact #but I find it hard to believe that they would just snafu the FINALE so fucking hard??? #Minor grammatical errors are one thing but the entire ending of a series feeling weird underwhelming and hollow is another #idk #Maybe as I take time to think about it and take it all in I'll come another conclusion but for right now #I'm disappointed #gakuen alice #mikan sakura #natsume hyuuga #ruka nogi #hotaru imai

[aethelar]

Hey, I always think that Graves in a high position like that and when he is so young must have a lot of enemies. But in the past Graves was always so perfect so cold and distant so he had no weakness but boom Newt arrives and Graves' love for him is so clear that even a blind man can see that. So those bad guys take advantage of this weakness!! But you know what? Newt is NOT A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS he can kick ass and he " can handle myself just fine. No no Frank do not!And you too mister Graves!"

The problem with being an unassuming, wide-eyed magizoologist with floppy hair and a crooked grin is that people had this really bad habit of looking at you and seeing an unassuming, wide-eyed magizoologist with floppy hair and a crooked grin.

Which, fair, were all true and verified features of Newt Scamander, but they weren’t the only features. That’s the thing that people always missed.

There was the dreaming author feature as well, Newt quite liked that one. And the hopeless romantic, though he thought (wrongly) that he kept that one mostly hidden, and the bleeding heart, mustn’t forget the bleeding heart.

All of this wrapped up in a deceptively tall bundle labelled “FIANCE AND/OR GREATEST WEAKNESS OF PERCIVAL C. GRAVES” with a second label stuck upside on the back that, in big red font, declared him “THE PERFECT HOSTAGE FOR ALL YOUR EVIL NEEDS” and somehow forgot to mention the bit about wrestling nundus, subduing dark lords, and single handedly dismantling the infamous Kinshasa potions trade with extreme prejudice and potentially more explosions than were strictly called for. But no. HOSTAGE, the labels read.

Of course Newt couldn’t see the labels, but if they didn’t exist then his second working hypothesis was that someone had taken out a billboard on Times Square with real-time updates of his location, when exactly Tina and/or Graves were persuaded to take a break from their insistent protective hovering, and how friggin inconvenient it would be to be kidnapped at any particular moment.

Again.

For the twelfth time this fecking month.

And, to add insult to painful, bleeding injury, these particular kidnappers were green-gilled twitchy teenagers who hadn’t been asked to wash their socks before they tied them into a crude gag and shoved them in Newt’s actual, real life mouth, the one he used to eat things and give blowjobs. That one. The mouth that should have been full of anniversary dinner but was instead enjoying the culinary delights of teenage sock.

Newt raised one unimpressed eyebrow.

“Yeah, that’s right,” the first of the unfortunate pair sneered, jabbing at the air in front of him like a demented wrestler. “You’re at our mercy, you better be scared.”

The second eyebrow crept up. Newt was not a kidnapper himself, but forced familiarity had made him - not a kidnapping connoisseur, per se, but at the very least he’d come to expect higher standards than this. He tilted his head laboriously towards the second kidnapper and attempted to communicate the exact depth of his incredulous disappointment in the wrinkle of his nose.

The second teenager was staring rather fixedly at the pool of spreading blood. More specifically, she was staring at the flick knife embedded three inches deep in Newt’s thigh, and the jagged, messy tear where she’d tried to pull it out and lost her nerve.

See, a professional kidnapper would have known to leave the knife in there to stem the bleeding. Does Newt not deserve a bit of professionalism? He’s a high quality hostage here, even if he is currently bleeding more than he should be, he doesn’t like working with amateurs.

“Hank,” the girl croaked. “Hank, I think he’s going to die.”

Newt blinked. The newly-identified Hank blinked. The girl had not blinked in far too long and had probably forgotten how.

“What? Nah, he’s fibbing,” Hank said, remembering last minute to brandish his fist threateningly as he said it. “If he was dying he’d be screaming or something. Yeah?”

“You stabbed him.”

“Yeah, but, not like hard or anything.”

There was an awkward, hesitant silence, in which the girl stared and Hank squinted at the knife as though waiting for Newt to reveal it as a trick (and if I shine the light on the glistening wound, look, it’s actually chocolate sauce! Oh how strange it’s really blood after all) and lo and behold, Newt lost his patience.

They’d tied his hands together round the back of the lamp post but they hadn’t taken his wand out of his sleeve, and as disgusting as the sock-gag was it vanished easily enough to a non-verbal spell.

“If we’re quite done,” he said drily as he disconnected his thumbs and slipped his hands free. “I have a dinner to get you, and frankly, you’re both being incompetent.”

“What,” the girl said, rapidly continuing into a high-pitched screech of “the fuck” as Newt pulled the knife from his leg and pressed the heel of his palm against it to stem the bleeding in one swift movement.

“What the hell man,” Hank chimed in, “that’s fuckin’ nasty shit.”

“Quick question,” Newt asked. “Do either of you know of have either of you ever met Percival Graves?”

Blank stare to the left. Blank (still unblinking) stare to the right. 

“Grand. One more question, if you don’t mind; would you identify yourselves as magicals or muggles, do you reckon? Or no-majs if you prefer.”

Blank, really quite wierded out stare to the left. Bug-eyed, vaguely nauseated stare to the right. Incompetent opportunistic kidnappers who aimed for a random rich-looking guy off the street and somehow managed to pick Newt. How the hell is this even Newt’s life.

And now the blood was welling up over his fingers in a way that wasn’t ideal and would very much benefit from a healing charm, except that (a) they were pissing muggles so the statute of secrecy came into play, and (b) Newt genuinely sucked at healing charms.

He smiled at them. From the way both of them flinched back, it can’t have been a very nice smile, though he’d tried to keep it as polite as possible.

“Ta then,” he said, “but I’m late for dinner so I best be off. Nighty-night.”

He staggered all of five paces, wincing with each step, before he mumbled a heartfelt sod the statute and jabbed his wand at a nearby wall. A flash of light, and the previously empty street corner contained a frantically wailing bowtruckle, a furious swooping evil, and a bat-winged horse comprised entirely of hellfire and damnation.

“Home please,” Newt said, draping himself gratefully over the fanged demon steed from the depths of the underworld, and with a final flash of sulphur-tinged darkness, he was gone.

“Mate,” Hank said, finally breaking the silence of the alley. “Mate, what the actual fuck.”

#coldwinfall #fantastic beasts and where to find them #newt scamander #gramander #my writing #mimi answers #i just #i mean #newt handling himself just fine #yes #i can get behind this

[captivesrp]

Ashrille awakens early in the morning, wanting to get a head start on the day. Cold dew squishes beneath her feet as she walks out to the pond.

Kneeling by its bank she carefully applies her markings. After they are done to her satisfaction she wanders, the skull clacking on the end of her staff, down an old trail, thinking of a place that grew strange mushrooms. The air is cold and the sky is dark; it is early in the morning. Ashrille wonders if it will rain.

Ashrille finds the area where she saw the mushrooms last and locates them underneath the rotten bark of an old tree. She has a hand around a spongy stem before she realizes that she forgot her collecting bag in the hut.

The walk back seems even colder.

She stops just out of sight of her hut. Voices can be heard nearby.

“Are ye sure a child lives ’ere?” one gruff voice whispers.

“Yeh,” another replies. “The old witch’s spawn. Here’s ’er house.”

“Oy, it’s disgusting in there.”

Silence.

“She ain’t ’ere.”

As quietly as possible, Ashrille hooks her staff into the branches of a nearby tree and uses it to hoist herself onto a bough.

“’Ere’s ’er little footprints,” the second voice says while coughing.

“Ey, maybe we should get ye something for that cough.”

“Shut yer mouth.”

The two men stomp around a bit.

“Mebbe we should have the child-witch take a looksee at ye,” says the healthier voice, stifling a laugh.

“Shut yer mouth,” coughs the other.

The coughing man’s searching brings him almost directly below Ashrille. He wears a sword on his hip and brown rags cover most of his body. His cough is wet and deep. She probably could fix it.

Ashrille catches a glimpse of the other man. He is a tall, bald man with a bow slung over his shoulder and a quiver at his hip.

Baldy kicks some dirt into Ashrille’s pond and stares into the depths of the forest. “Where do we look for ’er?”

“We ain’t looking deep,” Cough replies. “She prolly heard yer yappin’ by now.”

Cough scratches himself. Ashrille clutches her staff tightly. A small movement on her plane catches her eye: a small brown squirrel is skittering through the trees. The squirrel chitters loudly as it leaps by on Ashrille’s branch, uncaring of her predicament.

Ashrille looks back down. Her eyes meet Cough’s.

“Oy! Draeg! Found ’er!” Cough shouts.

In her surprise at meeting his gaze Ashrille loses her balance and topples to the ground. Shocked, the strangers give Ashrille enough time to scamper away, staff in hand.

She will not lose this staff.

“Oy! She runnin’!”

Ashrille finds it hard to run in her robes. The price of fashion. She stumbles through the woods and breaks into a small clearing where she is blindsided by bald Draeg. She topples to the ground, clutching her staff tightly. She feels her skull bash against a rock. Her vision begins to fade.

“Pick ’er up! I think ye knocked ’er out!” Cough hisses.

Draeg holds back. “Nah, I don’t wanna get my eyes poked out by that stick.”

Ashrille feels one of the brigands pull at her staff. With her fading strength and before she fades into unconsciousness, she wraps her body around the shaft.

*     *     *

Ashrille feels her vision slowly come back. Her head pounds. It is dark: darker than it had been when she last saw light.

“How long are we waiting for Rauth?” one of the two men mutters. Ashrille thinks it is bald Draeg.

“Oy, look, there ’e is,” Cough replies. “Shet, is ’e gonna run down that hill?”

“Looks like it. ’E’s got a kid with him, lookit that.”

Ashrille opens her eyes fully. She is staring at the night sky. She tries to sit up but finds herself tied, her staff bound with her and holding her rigid. Her fingers ache from the death grip she has on it. A sliver digs into her back and she realizes she is in the back of an open wagon. She cranes her head and recognizes where she is, sitting at the bottom of the hill that leads to Oxmouth. Torches flare at the crest of the hill and Ashrille can hear faint shouting.

A dark figure drags a smaller figure down the treacherous hill path. His momentum is incredible. An unseen arrow strikes the man in the back and he topples headfirst down the hill, taking the child with him. Both bodies come to a stop with a sickening crack near the wagon.

“I think that means we go.” Cough sighs.

“Dumb bastard.”

“Aye.” Draeg nods.

The wagon bounces as one of the brigands hops onto the front seat, driving the splinter further into Ashrille’s back. A whip cracks and the mule tied between the wagon shafts groans. Ashrille’s head pounds. She fades once more.

*     *     *

Bright light assaults Ashrille’s eyelids. She slowly rouses, staring into the blue, blue sky.

“Hey, ye think Logain’s gonna care that we let ’er keep ’er stick?” Draeg asks.

Silence answers him.

“Hey, you think Logain is gonna care?” he asks again.

Silence.

“Gilth! Ye deaf oaf!” Draeg shouts. Ashrille hears a sturdy thud.

“Ah! The feck? Whaddya want?”

“Ye think Logain’s gonna care that we let ’er keep ’er stick?”

Gilth coughs, hacks, and spits. “Nah. ’E just said, ‘Bring me a kid, put ’er in the hole’. That’s what’s gonna happen. What she gonna do with that stick in that big ol’ hole innyways?”

The two fall silent.

Draeg shuffles in his seat. “How far are we?”

“A few days’ travel, I’d imagine.” He glances back. “Should we feed the kiddo?”

“We don’t got food,” Draeg snaps.

“Then just give the waif some water!” Gilth snaps back.

Draeg grunts and swings into the back of the wagon where Ashrille is. He stands over her and uncorks a canteen.

“Ye gonna make this hard, or what?” he hisses.

Ashrille closes her eyes and opens her mouth just a crack. She feels him crouch low. He stinks of many days of travel. The water that falls onto her face is sour and more of it runs down her nose than makes it into her mouth. She coughs and sputters.

“Good ’nuff,” Draeg spits.

Ashrille tries to shuffle to get comfortable, but the sliver in her back causes comfort to elude her. The most she can do is slowly come to terms with her predicament while she watches the sun cross the sky. The skull on her staff stares at her ominously. She is surprised that it is fully intact after falling with her a few times. She clutches the old wood tightly.

Night begins to fall; slowly, but it begins.

“Oy, there’s a village,” Draeg comments.

“Yeh, gag ’er and cover ’er up,” Gilth orders.

Ashrille’s vision is suddenly limited to the inside of a canvas tarp as the wagon rumbles along. A hard leather gag soaks all the saliva from her mouth and the tarp makes her skin itch.

She hears the townsfolk greet Draeg and Gilth. The two kidnappers reply curtly. It takes a few minutes to pass through the village.

They never bother to take the tarp down, but the unnatural darkness makes it easier to try to sleep. Somewhat. Under the heat of the tarp, Ashrille begins to have fever dreams. Her breathing increases rapidly and her mind races. To her, the dreams last for days.

*     *     *

Ashrille is blinded by sudden exposure to the sun.

Gilth hefts her up and throws her onto his shoulder as best as he can. Ashrille feels like puking, bouncing on his shoulder as he jumps from the cart, and she fails to observe any of her surroundings.

“Hole number one?” Gilth asks.

“Yeah, that’s what Logain said.” Draeg shrugs. “Throw ’er in.”

She feels their rough hands release the bindings on her own, and then Ashrille’s world shifts in a sudden blur. She loses her grasp on direction and is falling. The long drop is agonizing. She strikes the ground hard. Her staff rolls away from her and she stares into the bright blue sky. It is so far away. She begins to fade into unconsciousness. She neither moves nor stirs; she simply sleeps.

#ashrille #chapter two