Molotov Cocktales

Eye for an Eye

Part 1: Banished

Based on @samijen’s Ender Eye AU

Read on AO3


Ryan’s reign of terror had, at long last, come to an end.

With much resistance, his hands had been bound behind his back and he had been forced to his knees, but there was still a fire in his chest and defiance in his eyes.

Gavin now stood over him, sword outstretched, the tip pressing lightly against his forehead more in a show of dominance than real threat; still, Ryan refused to yield, causing a ruby droplet to gather against the edge of the blade where it met skin, beading and eventually breaking, running down his face and gathering in the corner of his right eye. He didn’t even blink.

To Gavin’s right, Michael stood with one hand on the hilt of his own sword, ready to defend if need be, and to Gavin’s left, Jeremy wore a disappointed expression hidden beneath cold eyes. Far behind them, Geoff and Jack watched on reproachfully.

In front of them, crowds of villagers had eagerly gathered to watch justice be dealt, many of them seeking some kind of personal vengeance for the horrors Ryan had unleashed upon the world.

This part was ceremonial. They’d discussed Ryan’s punishment at length in private; they all knew how this was going to go down. Michael was prepared to carry out the orders, should it come to that, but they all doubted it. Ryan wasn’t one to give up without a fight. They were much better prepared for the alternative.

“Ryan Haywood,” Gavin began, sounding much more in-control than he felt, “For the crime of necromancy, use of illicit magic and manslaughter, you have been found guilty.”

A cheer went up from the audience.

Ryan glared back at him along the length of the blade, his icy blue eyes condemning.

For just a second, Gavin faltered and looked away before he regained composure and went on; “How do you wish to die?”

“I do not.”

Ryan’s response was immediate and unflinching. He continued to glare at Gavin.

This time Gavin glared back, a self-satisfied smile curling into his lips.

“Then you shall be banished to the Nether until you do.”

Ryan’s eyes grew wide at the realisation, “No! You can’t!”

“Light it up,” Gavin commanded Jeremy, who immediately knelt at the base of the obsidian archway a little way behind Ryan, sparking a small fire with flint and steel.

The portal shimmered to life, purple waves of light gently lapping at the obsidian border, softly humming, vibrating, almost beckoning.

Ryan was all too familiar with the sound. It immediately sent waves of panic through him and he thrashed about, trying to free himself of the coarse rope that tied his wrists.

“Please, no, anywhere but there…”

“An eye for an eye, Ryan,” Gavin mocked, “You brought the monsters here, now we send them one back.”

Michael picked him off the ground, the strength of Mogar coursing through his veins; Ryan tried to find his footing, but Michael gave him a sharp shove backwards and he felt the sudden cold embrace of the light of the portal. He remained suspended there for a moment that felt like an eternity, cursing his own mistakes, their treachery, everything that had led to this point, before the world he knew faded to the dim red glow and heat of the Nether. He stumbled backwards, falling on his left shoulder, tearing his shirt and leaving a bloody scrape along the length of his arm from the sharp, rocky netherrack. He sprang to his feet and dove for the portal, but he was too late. Just as he reached it, the light stuttered and went out completely. Momentum carried him forward and he landed hard on the other side of the portal, taking the brunt of the impact on his chin, leaving his face bloody. He struggled to his knees, looking back at the empty obsidian archway forlornly.

They must have destroyed the portal in the Overworld.

He was trapped.

The acrid, sulfurous scent of lava and netherrack flooded his nostrils, burning in his sinuses and bringing tears to his eyes. The sound of the mobs that lurked in the darkness echoed around him. His blood turned to ice. With his hands still bound, he felt acutely vulnerable, and for the first time in a long time, he truly felt afraid.

Part 2

anonymous asked:

Psst, I heard you have pirate headcanons... *waggles eyebrows back at you*

Alright, so, in my usual “I can’t do anything without turning it into a story” fashion, I give you this:

They’re the ultimate odds and ends crew.

Shortbeard spent years working as a deckhand on legitimate, but increasingly shady voyages until he was practically a pirate anyway. He always wanted something more. One day, he acquired a ship (opportunistically stealing it from a port single-handedly in the dead of night is a form of acquiring, ok?) and declared himself Captain. The ship’s a piece of shit, but it’s seaworthy and that’s all he ever asked for… well, and a crew would be good.

On his last long voyage, he met Jack, who was working as the navigator and fighting tooth and nail to be recognised rightfully as a woman by the crew. Only Shortbeard would use her proper pronouns and treat her like an equal and the rest of the crew gave him shit for it. So, when he finally had his own ship, she was the first he hit up and there was no hesitation from her. But you can’t exactly run a ship with only two…  and Jackie knows of another who might be interested who’d run into some trouble of his own. The only trouble is finding him.

The lad had set out on a voyage with another ship only days prior. With just Jack and Shortbeard, they can just manage to follow it, but they come across some bad weather and need to dock the ship. They find a small island out in the middle of nowhere and dock her in a sheltered cove. That’s where they find their first strandee; Willy “Two Legs”. He’s not in great condition when they come across him. All torn up, dehydrated and starving. He’d been keelhauled and marooned by his previous crew and Shortbeard and Jack are immediately wary, but both too curious to leave him there - besides, they could use the extra hands (and legs). But you don’t get keelhauled and left to die on an island for nothing, so as soon as he’s physically able, the pair ask for his story, which he reluctantly obliges them, with no small amount of embarrassment. 

He had attempted a mutiny. He’d been working on a trade ship as a deckhand where he’d seen the ship’s log indicating their designated inventory… they were due to pick up slaves from one of the islands and, feeling morally obliged to do something, he tried to stir the crew into action: “People ain’t cargo! We won’t stand for this!” The rest of the crew were confused and wouldn’t take him seriously, so he tried to sabotage the voyage by dropping the anchor, doing massive damage to the ship and sending the Captain into a rage. Willy’s dyslexia had never been a problem before, he’d had no problems understanding verbal commands, so no one ever questioned his ability to read. He’d always been embarrassed by it, so he’d never told anyone. When he’d seen medical salves on the inventory, he had been so sure the word was right. It cost him his place on the ship and almost his life.

Shortbeard offers him a place on their crew and, with little other choice, he accepts, although the diminutive Captain grows on him immediately.

With a third crew member, they make up for lost time and continue to pursue the ship for their 4th man. It doesn’t take too long to find it and when they do, they decide to keep it quiet. Jack goes to board them in the night, she knows where to look for him. She finds Peg Pecker up in the crow’s nest, safe from the men below deck who had already found out his secret. He’s not safe sleeping down there since they found out, not this long away from port at least.

He’s ready to fight when he hears someone climbing the rigging. It’s a relief to hear Jack’s voice.
“If it isn’t Jack, a woman with the voice as deep as the sea itself.”
“Shhh! I’ve got a proposition for ye, if you’ll hear me out.”
It doesn’t take much convincing for Peg Pecker to abandon his current voyage and join the new crew.
“Ain’t no one care what you keep in your pants here, Peggy.”
“Don’t fuckin’ call me that, Jackie.”
“Sorry, but c'mon, you’ll be better off with the new captain. We both will.”

She’s not wrong. The new crew is a mess, but they respect each other. They know the value of loyalty and they’ll fight for it.

Quiet little headcanon #16

Trevor is a devious kid, not that you could ever tell by his looks. With his innocent face, infectious smile and bright brown eyes, no one would expect him to be the Vagabond’s #1 fan. It’s not like Ryan hasn’t noticed either, the way Trevor pays extra close attention to the way he conducts himself on heists, the way he doesn’t look away when Ryan gets up close and personal during interrogations.

So one day, unbeknownst to the others, Ryan makes Trevor an offer to teach him a few things, as much as he’s willing to learn anyway. Quietly, Trevor becomes the Vagabond’s understudy. He even learns the pattern of his face paint and sure, they’re not exactly the same, but the imagery is still there, still fear-inspiring, still enough to send a message. So when Ryan can’t be around, the crew sends Trevor, and before long there’s no doubt: Trevor has learned the role well.

He emerges from the interrogation, offering a thumbs up and a cheerful, “all done!”, while casually wiping blood from his hands and knife, with a huge smile on his face that holds no suggestion of the horrors that occurred only moments earlier.

Geoff still finds it extremely unsettling, “I’m sure I don’t say this often enough, but Trevor’s a creepy motherfucker.”

Trevor takes it as a compliment.

Saw earlier that @achievementblunder was craving some FAHC which started a snowball effect of making a new playlist and musing some fun heist drabbles to that.

Genfic. No warnings apply.


Jeremy stumbled but Ryan didn’t miss a step, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him back to his feet, urging him forward with an adrenaline-fuelled laugh.

“Watch your step there!”

“Thanks!”

They ran. Ducking and weaving, soles of their shoes slapping at the pavement, jumping over benches and sliding over parked cars as they fled the sound of the approaching sirens. The rest of the world felt silent around them, just their hearts hammering in their chests, their ragged snatches of breath and the sirens, louder and louder at their backs as they raced through the streets of Los Santos.

To his left, Jeremy was vaguely aware that Ryan was still laughing.

They turned a corner and a shiny, dark red Karuma cut them off, tyres squealing as the driver pulled out hard in front of them and came to an abrupt stop. Jeremy nearly tripped over himself again trying not to run straight into it, but Ryan simply vaulted over the hood and made his way to the rear passenger door, throwing it open and climbing in. Michael’s head leaned out the driver’s side window, a smug grin plastered to his face.

“Hey Lil J, want a lift?”

“Fuck yes!” Jeremy threw one last glance over his shoulder, catching a flash of blue and red lights gaining on them, and slid in behind him.

Michael floored it.

Ryan was still laughing.

“Ryan, you’re a bloody lunatic, you know that, right?” Gavin said as he turned around in his seat to face them, feeling no need to watch the road; placing complete trust in his boi, even at the speeds Michael was travelling at.

“Geoff’s going to be livid when he finds out what you did to that car…”

Ryan flashed a debonair grin. “Eh, what’s a little fun on the side? Not like he can’t afford to replace it.” He held up the duffle bag stuffed with cash. Cliché but effective.

“A little fun? You nearly killed Jeremy!”

“He’s fiiine.” Ryan nudged Jeremy’s shoulder.

Jeremy smirked. “It was pretty fun.”

Gavin rolled his eyes.

“See?” Ryan grinned. “He can keep up.”

“So can the cops, apparently,” Michael interrupted, pointing to the rear vision mirror. “Hang on to something, boys.”

Gavin squawked and grabbed the dash just in time to hold himself steady as Michael yanked the handbrake and leaned into the wheel. The car fishtailed, spun, Michael corrected, foot to the floor; the tyres squealing and kicking up smoke, Ryan laughing maniacally again as they sped directly at the cops.

“…Michael?” Jeremy asked uncertainly.

Michael didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Got ‘em boi?”

“Got ‘em boi!” Gavin confirmed, pulling a small object from a bag at his feet and half-climbing out the window.

Jeremy saw something fly towards the oncoming cars and a second later Michael veered away sharply, Jeremy and Ryan bouncing around on the seat in the back.

The engine growled in protest as Michael pushed the car to accelerate even faster, and glancing back, Jeremy saw why.

The explosion rocked the surrounding vehicles and blew out nearby windows, a fireball engulfing the police cruisers. 

Gavin was laughing now, too.

One stubborn cruiser emerged from the wreckage of the others, the lone siren again giving pursuit.

“Fucking what?!” Michael exclaimed, seeing the flashing lights reappear behind them. “Bullshit! We killed them!”

“Apparently not,” Jeremy muttered. He picked up his rifle, slinging the strap across his body and wound down the window. “Don’t worry, I got ‘em.”

He climbed halfway out, gripping the roof of the car with one hand, perching carefully on the windowsill and aiming his rifle at the car behind them.

To his left, Ryan popped out beside him, grinning enthusiastically. “I like the way you think.”

Jeremy grinned back and nodded, taking aim again.

The pair opened fire, peppering the hood of the cruiser with bullet holes before piercing the windscreen; the spread of cracks contained within the lamination of the safety glass frosting it immediately so neither Jeremy nor Ryan could see if the driver had been hit. Judging by the way the car lurched, veered sideways and collided with a streetlight, it was a safe bet they were no longer capable of pursuit.

“Yeah!” Ryan yelled, firing a few victory rounds into the air. He and Jeremy slid back inside the car and with a cheer from Michael and Gavin as they watched the car wreck behind them, they sped away down the streets of Los Santos towards the crew’s penthouse in the heart of the city.

“Geoff would fucking murder you if you let them follow us back to the penthouse…”

“Relax, Michael.” Ryan flashed his most charming grin again and winked at Jeremy. “We got this.”

Michael slowed to the speed limit as he turned onto Alta St and gave a final look around for cops or nosey onlookers before pulling into the driveway to the garage of the apartment block.

“Good,” he said, “because you’re the ones who are explaining to Geoff how his car ended up a flaming wreck in the subway station at Rockford Hills.”

“His fault for letting us borrow his car,” Ryan said nonchalantly.

“Now, when you say ‘borrow’, Ryan…” Michael started.

“Ok, steal. But still…” He trailed off, looking sheepish.

Michael smirked. “Where were you going with that, Ryan? Hmm?”

Ryan shook his head. “I… No, I don’t know. I got nothing.”

Jeremy and Gavin burst into giggles, Michael barely containing his own, while Ryan just grinned.

A very unamused looking Jack met them in the garage as they got out of the car.

“You motherfuckers have a lot of explaining to do.”

Good to Know

@vagastag wanted some bloodied FAHC Alfredo a while back and I was a piece of shit and half wrote this. Finally got around to finishing it.

Genfic. Canon-typical violence. ~1500 words


“Where are you headed at this hour?”

Trevor straightened, caught off guard by Ryan’s presence and, almost robotically, turned to smirk over his shoulder.

“Oh, y’know, nowhere…”

Ryan raised an eyebrow, leaning an elbow into the counter of the Fake’s penthouse kitchen and took a long, deliberate sip of diet coke, never breaking eye contact.

Unfazed, Trevor adjusted his vest and his gloves. He paused, looking up to see Ryan still watching him and grinned back. “…but just in case you don’t hear from me in the next… oh, two hours or so… might wanna swing by The Range.”

“The Range?” Ryan frowned. “You really wanna be heading to Stab City on your own?”

Trevor shrugged. “I’m meeting someone there.”

Ryan didn’t press it. “Well, if you run into anything you can’t handle… don’t wake me.”

“You say that like you were actually going to sleep.” Trevor flashed a charming smile, gave a curt, three-finger wave and headed out, snatching a spare bike helmet as he left.

It was a clear night and the air had an icy chill to it, snatching at Trevor’s exposed forearms as he tore up the nearly deserted freeway on his Akuma, heading towards Blaine County.

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It's Been a Hard Day's Night

Happy Birthday @alexskyline!
Now, I know I said I’d let him sleep – and to be completely fair, I did – but he did kinda have to earn it first. And by ‘earn’ I mean I did horrible things to him… again. But it was for a good cause, promise!


The crew don’t want Ryan to wake up alone, so they take turns staying with him while he sleeps.

Genfic, teen & up, ~3200 words 

Read on AO3.


No sooner had Ryan’s head hit the pillow, he was out cold.

The others had never seen anything like it. It wouldn’t have surprised any of them if it was one of Ryan’s normal sleep habits they’d simply never had the privilege of observing.

Not that they’d consider this a privilege. This was a disaster and they were lucky to have Ryan back alive, let alone in one piece. After what he’d been through, he deserved every scrap of sleep he could salvage. They could only pray he wasn’t prone to nightmares.

“We should let him sleep,” Geoff said. “God knows he needs it.”

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Day 1: Revenge - Shenanigans

Short story #1 for the @fuckyeahrtfanfic October Scarefest.

A little different for me, set in the real world.
 Horror themes and dark humour.
~1300 words. Genfic.
Read on AO3.


Geoff awoke with a start to someone looming over him as zip ties fastened his wrists tightly to the bedframe. To be honest, he wasn’t entirely surprised. The Family reunion was bound to be full of shenanigans after all. In fact, it was more surprising that nothing had happened the first night. But he wasn’t expecting the face that turned into view, hair wild and dishevelled, some kind of black paint roughly smeared around his eyes.

Ryan? What the fuck?”

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Quiet little headcanon #14

[Fake AH Crew Origins edition ]

Like most of them, Jeremy never actually wanted to be a criminal… not really. He loved the lifestyle, the pace, the carefree ease that it all seemed to come with, the thrill of adventure. The weapons, cash and fast cars were all just added bonuses. What he wanted more than anything was the crew.

The Fake AH Crew had come from nothing, built themselves from scratch, but they had each other. They were different, everyone could see that; inseparable, fiercely loyal and most of all fun.

That’s what he wanted.

He worked hard. He got very good at what he did, and he did it all. He honed his skills with a sniper rifle and started to take on big jobs… except nobody had given him an order, he did it all for the attention. To fund his exploits, he necessarily became a thief; stealing weapons, ammunition, body armour and eventually graduating to grand theft auto, further adding to his rapidly expanding skill set, and causing him to amass an impressive collection of vehicles. Unfortunately he had nowhere to keep them and would find himself casually dumping them when he was done with a job. Leaving a trail of ridiculously expensive and ludicrously bright-coloured supercars in his wake.

By this stage the Fake AH Crew were all over the media, everyone knew them and Jeremy knew: these guys were the real deal. They became his heroes, his role models… he knew they shouldn’t be, but he couldn’t help it. There were others who felt the same, who’d approach them and ask for a job, all of them rebuffed with a smirk and a wave.

But Jeremy was determined. Unlike the other small-time crooks, he had what it took. It was just a matter of getting noticed. And that was when he met Matt.

The stunts they pulled became exponentially more ridiculous when they were together. They weren’t particularly destructive or violent; but they were more like parodies of heists.

One time, they broke into a zoo and put the lions in the tiger enclosure, the tigers in the bear enclosure and the bear in the lion enclosure and in big green letters simply sprayed “Oh My!” in the gateway to the opening.

The crew thought it was hilarious.

Several, equally hilarious heists later, the pair broke into the Weazel News building and surreptitiously embedded their own made-up news stories about themselves and the Fake AH Crew into the daily paper. It essentially served as their resume. They then stole one of the delivery trucks full of the papers before anyone noticed and delivered a single paper by hand to Geoff’s front door. Later that day, after Weazel had issued all the appropriate apologies and recalls, and Matt and Jeremy were certain the crew had seen their “credentials”, they drove the stolen truck into the driveway below Geoff’s penthouse window and waited.  

Sprayed on the top of the truck, in the same big green lettering from the zoo were the words: “You hiring?”

They didn’t have to wait long. A body landed with a sickening crunch next to the truck. Jeremy recognized the man as a small-time drug dealer, but more importantly, there was a knife in his back, holding a piece of paper to the body like a morbid bulletin board.

“You’re hired.”

Test day

Michael spent his entire life in the facility under the ever-watching eye of the whitecoats. His only comfort was that he wasn’t alone. He had always had Gavin. But today was Test day; Gavin was on his own. And Michael was terrified.

Just a little cute thing. Happy birthday @luckybonez

Check it out on AO3.

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Eye for an Eye

Part 9: Time

Part 1|Part 8|AO3

Jack, Geoff, Michael and Jeremy entered the room. Ryan noted Michael was armed, but the others didn’t seem concerned. The state he was in, he doubted any of them considered him a threat.

              That wasn’t what you thought when you first woke up. They still fear you. And rightly so…

Ryan blinked a few times, he was just confused. He tried to banish the idea from his mind.

“How are you feeling Ryan?” Jeremy asked gently.

               How do you think?

“Not great,” Ryan shook his head, ignoring the obnoxious intrusive thoughts, “and my brain is real not-alright.”

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Eye for an Eye

Part 3: Pain

Part 1|Part 2|AO3

Warnings for blood, gore and graphic descriptions of injury.


His hunt for ender pearls had grown into a blood sport.

Teleportation made travel through the Nether faster and somewhat less dangerous – he had nearly teleported into a freshly opened lava pit on several occasions – but he’d mostly gotten the hang of it. He thought he would have gotten used to the pain, but every time he used a pearl, it was just as sharp as the last. He wasn’t going to let it deter him.

Originally he’d convinced himself there was a way he could use the pearls to teleport directly to the Overworld, but as he continued to use them, he grew less and less convinced there was a way to “glitch out” of the Nether and instead turned his focus back to finding another portal.

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Day 8: Skeleton

Fic #8 for the FYRTFF October Scarefest Challenge.

~1000 words. Horror. RPF Genfic. 
Read on AO3.


Ryan strolled onto the Off Topic set late, it wasn’t like they’d been missing him; it was supposed to be Michael, Jeremy, Jack and Geoff, but Gavin had somehow missed a flight and apparently had nothing better to do, so he’d showed up to hang out as well. Meanwhile, Ryan had (finally) completed his designated task of trying to install Fuel. He wasn’t sure if he should be thrilled or disappointed, but it left him with an empty conflicted feeling that killed any motivation to be productive, so eventually boredom and curiosity got the better of him and he headed over.

“Heeeyy! It’s Ryan!” Michael greeted him in the most suspicious way possible. They’d probably been talking about him. What else was new?

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Eye for an Eye

Part 11: Revelations

Part 1|Part 10|AO3

Despite Jeremy’s recovery - except for his arm, which Ryan explained wasn’t likely to grow back - Gavin hadn’t been able to sleep. He often didn’t sleep well. Since the mobs had started invading the city and they had started sharing quarters, Michael had noted on many occasions Gavin would wake restless at night and pace about the room, as if trying to solve some unfathomable puzzle.

This time, Gavin was clearly on edge; staring at the ceiling rather than sleeping and pacing the room intermittently.

“What’s the matter, Gav?” Michael asked gently, expecting a generic feeling of unease at Jeremy’s resurrection. Much like the one he was feeling himself.

“You heard what Ryan said, Michael?” Gavin asked, voice quiet. “When I asked if he thought other things could come through the portals… He said ‘yes’. He didn’t even bloody hesitate.”

A chill crept down Michael’s spine. He had heard him say it, but he hadn’t made the connection until now.

“I think…” Gavin went on. “I think he’s the reason for the mobs; I think he caused this.”

Michael frowned. “You know, I don’t think you’re wrong there. I don’t think it was deliberate, but yeah… I think you’re right.”

“What if it was deliberate, Michael?”

Michael chewed his lip. “I dunno… Ryan’s a little eccentric sometimes, but I don’t think he’s malicious. There’s no way he could’ve known it would come to this. Besides, you saw how he was with Jeremy. It damn near broke his heart.”

“What if it wasn’t meant to be Jeremy, Michael?”

The way Gavin let the words hang in the air made Michael shiver again.

“You’re probably just overthinking it. You should try to get some sleep.”

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Eye for an Eye

Part 10: Betrayal

Part 1|Part 9|AO3

“My King,” the young messenger bowed deeply and waited to be signalled before proceeding. Gavin tipped his head ever so slightly and the messenger went on, “Master Ramsey said to send for you. He’s been recovered.”

Gavin could hardly contain the surprise that crossed his face. “Alive?”

The messenger nodded, “Yes, your Majesty. Surely, something of a miracle. Although he was gravely injured. The others are tending his wounds presently. None are fatal.”

“Of course,” Gavin replied, nodding and chewing his lip absently, “Thank you. I’ll join them when my business is done here.”

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Eye for an Eye

Part 6: Reprieve

Part 1|Part 5

As soon as he’d glimpsed the purple glow, it was gone. The obsidian archway stood proud, but empty. Nearby there was a chest, open and bare, its contents long ago removed by someone in need.

By him.

It was the same portal he had been sent through.

But had been open.

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Eye for an Eye

Part 8: Fear

Part 1|Part 7

The pain was the first thing that registered after the shock of realising where he was. His whole body ached dully, his face stung, especially around his eye. He tried to reach up instinctively, but his wrists were caught in the cuffs by his sides. He tested them, attempting to squirm free, twisting against the restraints, when he heard movement behind him. He twisted his head around and was just able to make out Jeremy’s form, sitting against the far wall in the chair he used to observe from…

When Ryan was the one performing the experiments.

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Day 11: Zombie Plan

Fic #11 for the FYRTFF October Scarefest Challenge.

~400 words. RPF Genfic.
Read on AO3.


“With all the weapons we have in this place, I’m definitely coming here when the zombie apocalypse hits…”

Ryan walked in to catch the tail end of a conversation about the variety of weapons they’d been stockpiling.

“We talking zombie apocalypse plans?”

“Yeah!” Jeremy enthused, “What’s yours?”

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Day 9: Moon

Fic #9 for the FYRTFF October Scarefest Challenge.

~800 words. RPF Genfic.
Read on AO3.


The pent-up aggression had been eating at him for the past few days now and he needed to work it out. He’d been snapping at people more than usual and he was staring to notice it. So were they. It wasn’t anything specific, just a mood he’d managed to somehow get himself into, probably hormones or stress or something. Fortunately, he’d recently gotten himself a punching bag and hung it out on the back porch for this very purpose. Unfortunately, the mood to work it out productively didn’t strike him until well after sunset and he spent several hours berating himself for his poor performance in the latest-craze, ridiculously hard, boss-fight-heavy run and gun game first.

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