#how did he end up with this fucker and not the nice ten year old hellbent on saving her friend?

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Ya know, with the set ups I've been playing with, Roxy and Cassie are incredibly similar.

Both of them have been tasked with the impossible, both have had their loyalty pushed to the max, both of them have friends that betrayed them for one reason or another, both of them were left to die, and neither of them have many friends anymore...

Oh and both of them have a Helpi AI. Cassie's is just infected with Mimic/Glitchtrap/whatever. So there's that too!

[threepandas]

Bad End: Royal Red

Have you ever seen blood BURN like the sun?

I'm not even sure "burn" is the right word for it. Writhe? Scream? HATE? Like a standing on a cliff, staring down at a valley consumed in flames. Old forests full of life... burning. Dying. Wrong.

The sky choked with thick black smoke. Tar-like and staining. The ROAR of it. Moisture ripped so utterly from the air, it hurts to breathe. Heat so absolute as it rises... you can not imagine there was ever, EVER life here.

But there was.

And it was once beautiful.

Ancient and green, bird song and morning mist. Moss beneath bare feet and the gentle quiet that is no quiet at all. A thing ALIVE. Breathing. Whole. Now gone beneath the flame. The carnage and hunger. As animals flee for their lives and your men die, desperate to hold back the all consuming spread.

Nothing but FIRE remains.

But have you seen BLOOD burn? The weeping wounds of a soul? The... WRONGNESS inside a man, catch light? A shade of ever overlapping crimson. Drying blood somehow just as fluid as the fresh. Old wounds and new. Somewhere, the depth of scars...

BURNING.

I have.

I do.

I wish I did not.

There is something... WRONG with his Highness. Now, the Crown Prince. He... He HAD brothers. Some were awful, others indifferent. But all of them? All of them are gone. Terrible accidents, allegedly. One after another. And they were NOT the only one's. Consorts, lovers, mistresses and supporters. Allies and anyone unfortunate enough to be in his Highness' way.

But of course, I can prove nothing. And to SUGGEST such a thing? That would be Treason. Defamation of a Royal. That it is TRUE? Holds no bearing. Is utterly irrelevant. Even if I HAD had the proper training, even I'd my Gifts WERE formally recognized, ultimately? Politics is King.

It's not supposed to be. But when has life ever been so kind? When has "supposed to" EVER won the day? No. Such talk gets men killed. And dying once? Was quite enough for me.

Though I HAD to wonder...

How does a Protagonist fuck up SO BADLY, that they somehow send their Hidden Route target, into an empire conquering, murder spiral? That's not "a few bad choices" levels of making a mistake. THAT'S? Damn near deliberate sabotage and I just wanna talk. Violently.

I WOULD too, if I wasn't pretty certain they were either on the run or in exile.

All I had wanted? ALL I HAD EVER WANTED?? Was to just be set dressing. Soldier A, the unimportant background gaurd. A nice, faceless, grunt. Maybe chat with my equals of plot significance, a potted plant and yonder chair. Then? I could take my pay, go home, and live quietly.

But NO!

I get stationed following the Seventh prince. Mr. Hidden Route himself. Which? Okay, fine. Was HOPING for gate duty, cause NOTHING happens on gate duty, but FINE. But THEN? Half my co-workers are ASSHOLES. Like... child abusing assholes! The FUCK?!

So? Oops. Accident on the stairs! Whoops! Lemme help you there, man. Oh? Did I ACCIDENTALLY crush the hand you used to hit that kid? Golly! Gee, I sure hope the healers can fix that for you! (I fucking know they both can't and wouldn't if they could. You can't afford SHIT.) Lemme HELP you there, AGAIN, BUUUUUDDY~☆!

Threatening you? Why I would NEVER! That's illegal!

You know... like hitting kids.

And OTHER shit they try to pull. Never DID get around to updating my Gaurd Forms. Whoops. Turns out being able to literally SEE the malicious intent on a fucker? Makes it pretty easy to know who to watch. DID get jumped a lot though. Stabbed a few times.

I just? Wanted to watch my favorite Otome game play out, you know? Get payed while doing it. Sunk cost fallacy kicked in. I've been here since I was a PRE-TEEN. Signed up for training, a ten year contract, and everything! I can LEAVE now... but like? Go WHERE? And honestly... I'm not actually sure I CAN.

Things are... Tense.

Or maybe they're just tense for me? 'Cause... Cause something isn't right. It's that burning blood color. The way it fills a room. Reaches, covetous, like staining hands. Writhes and drags itself against everything. Something unholy, between a lustful grind and the dragging of the wounded. It's not even demonic. No... somehow? It's WORSE for being utterly human.

There is something deeply wrong with the man I am sworn to obey, and I do not know how to escape him.

Because I definitely SHOULD.

I'm not stupid. He's been... been keeping me, SPECIFICALLY, close at hand, since becoming Crown Prince. The SECOND he was able to assign his OWN gaurds? I am suddenly honor gaurd. Yet not. I have basically no job but to stab just behind and to the side of him and look pretty. (For the given quality of THAT.) And...? Even the other gaurds are looking nervous.

It's NEVER a good thing when powerful people suddenly pay attention to an individual gaurd, servant, or maid. They tend to end up... hurt. Dead. Worse. And given recent behavior? Well... I've been getting offers to quietly arrange an "accident" for me.

Not so sure it won't get everyone involved killed.

He wasn't always LIKE this. Yeah, he was... different, but it wasn't BAD. Just... off. A bit weird. A color I hadn't seen before and couldn't for the life of me figure out. It had been... well, nothing. Not even grey. I KNOW grey, it's apathy or depression. Emotional flatness.

But his Highness? Like mist. The lite distortion of water droplets. Colorless and near weightless, drifting gently along. It was as though he DIDNT have emotional responses to anything. Not even flat. Just... non-existant. Which? If so? That's okay! Really. Takes all types. Something to NOTE, yeah, maybe accommodate? But fine.

It's not like there were psychiatric meds or doctors we could get for him. If he was different, so be it. We just had to work around that. Plan accordingly. Worst case scenario, maybe keep him away from small breakable things. But? He seemed benign. I shrugged and moved on. Accepted him as he was.

Maybe went out of my way to explain things with logic more then feelings. Even when I WAS explaining feelings. Ethics. Pretty much anything else he asked. Which... wait a second...

Fuck.

A nameless gaurd SHOULD NOT know that much about psychology or politics. Economics on the macro or micro scale. Oh god DAMN it Wikipedia! You betray me a lifetime away?! Et Tu random research binges!?

Okay. Okay! So maaaaybe? THATS why he's keeping me close? Cause yeah, I'm pretty stacked these days. No internet kinda leaves nothing BUT time to train and read... and books are kinda hard to get, at my level. So like? Maybe a second set of eyes?

....doesn't feel right though. Close but missing the obvious mark-ish.

I try to think of my interactions with the prince. BEFORE murder-spiral kick-off. He sought me out a lot. I interfered so many times when his Tutors crossed lines, they got me kicked out of the main building. He started skipping lessons to self-study. I got put on patrol? He learned my patrol schedule. Would invade the gaurd mess.

Got punished for that, I think. Vicious cycle. I get punished, he gets upset, wants to make sure I'm okay, I get punished for his basic empathy and being a kid. They kept reassigning me. I got stabbed that first time. Sent too...

Wait.

I try to pull up what I know of the Game in my brain. The Hidden Route and the other Routes. We are.... WAY off script. Not off GENRE... just...?

Mentally I set the Game aside. Shifting in my guarding position at the Crown Prince's side. He continues to work. The soft rustle of papers and the scratching of his pen, filling the silence along side the clink and shift of my armor. We are in the sun room, surrounded by flowers, supposedly for the better light.

To be honest, I hadn't ever BEEN in this room until I was basicly expected to tail the Crown Prince like a glorified, armor wearing, pet. And too be honest? Given that the REST of his honor gaurd were ACTUAL KNIGHTS? It was well beyond ridiculous at this point.

I was a club bouncer surrounded by elite special forces, in fancy little armor, that I could in NO way, have ever afforded on my own. Oh, and I wasn't really allowed to talk to them. So... WHY? Why, EXACTLY, was I here? There was no realistic way anything could get PASSED all those knights. I certainly wasn't PROTECTING the Crown Prince from SHIT.

And... and he hadn't attacked me, thank God. No touchy hands "service to the crown" shtick. Demanding things I couldn't refuse him. So THAT wasn't it...

Right?

My brain insisted it wasn't. That I should keep going over the list of possible reasons. Consider This or That. But... Something in my gut? Rang like a struck bell. Some non-physical part of me. That peice that twined, like gentle golden ivy, up through my body, too wrap around my eyes from the inside. Not enough, maybe, to get me into some high and mighty school or apprenticeship... but ENOUGH.

Because Magic was, is, and always has been? Divine. For all that HUMANS fail while using it. For every MORTAL error in it's implementing or understanding. It's a drop of the Divine. And? You can not LIE to the Gods. Hide, perhaps, but not LIE. Even then, you'd have to know what you're hiding FROM.

Kinda hard to hide from "using past life knowledge to deduce motivation" when that's not exactly a thing people can easily guess I HAVE. I get away with shit. Know things I really shouldn't.

Am.... am desperately trying to convince myself that the twinge I just felt? DOESN'T mean what I think it means. Even as a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. As I desperately keep my expression placid and my stare straight into the middle distance. Ha ha.... oh god. No no no, oh god, no...!

Okay. OKAY! Lying to yourself will NOT keep you safe! We can do this! Nothing is happening. We just... just have to play it cool. NOT. PANIC.

He DID want us for sexual reasons.

But... more? More, maybe. I poke at the feeling. Try to frame my thoughts as absolute statement as see if I get a twinge again. To get a feel for the edges of whatever is happening. I can not protect myself, if I do not KNOW from what I protect AGAINST. Just sex? No. Was I a convenience choice? Also No. Revenge for something? A sudden certainty that I'd be DEAD if it was.

Oh, THATS not concerning at ALL!

Okay, keep prodding. Uuuuh... He has a thing for big muscle-y dudes with scars? Strong yes. Okay! Getting somewhere! Kinda thought he liked the petite, girly girl-ish typ-? Weirdly hollow No? Strong. Okay, what the FUCK. See THIS? THIS is why I wanted to be a fucking GAURD. No weird Protagonist of any adventures bullshit! Just a 9-5 with a paycheck at the end!

Uuuugh. Okay, soooo... likes? Strong dudes.... and I was the closest? No. Okay! Getting somewhere! Other strong dude... isn't available? Yes, but I am looking at it wrong. Great. At least I know what that feeling MEANS. Still wish it would just follow up with a "and btw, here's the answer~☆" but, fuck no! Why would life make anything EASY for a guy?

Fuck it! Random shit at the wall time. He's definitely in love with the Protagonist? No. Wait, really? Then why...? No. Stay on track. He's in definitely in love with ME? I wait, utterly expectant, for the twinge that will mark a negative. Half cursing myself for not checking with the Divine sooner. There had been no excuse. Distractions, yes, but no excuse.

It feels like getting sucker punched in the gut. HARD.

Takes everything in me, not to wheeze and double over. That... that wasn't a "yes". That was so FAR beyond "yes" I'm not sure there are spoken, written, or even conceptual WORDS for it. As absolute a CONCEPT of Yes as I have ever felt or probably ever will.

It... It did NOT feel good.

That was a WARNING.

Like the Gods them selves had taken me by the back of the neck, stepped close, to whisper in my ear as they drove their fist into my gut. "Pay Attention To This. RUN. You Need To RUN. There Are Monsters Here."

My eyes feel like they are burning. Like I haven't blinked in too long. Colors a bit too bright, details too sharp. The edges of reality cutting like splintering, glittering, glass. Everything has a GLOW to it. It's never done that before. Is... is this panic? Fight or Flight forcing me to draw deeper then I ever have before?

Or are the Gods paying attention? Displeased by what they see?

The room around us is... is so quiet. Beautiful. Rare flowers, teeming with life. Decorative and pampered little song birds, flitting from roost to roost. The rich scent of rare tea and expensive cologne, mixing with armor polish and the scent of green, living things. Sunlight makes his Highness' hair glow like it was made of it. Pale gold and filled with light.

If I could not SEE... his Highness would be beautiful.

But I can, and instead? He's terrifying.

I think I'm shaking. I don't understand. The room around me picturesque. Peaceful. Golden and filled with gently beautiful things. Light. It feels mocking. Paper thin. Like some cruel trap laid out over a pit of tar. As though, like in the cartoons of my old childhood, the INSTANT I become aware... acknowledge the reality of my ACTUAL surroundings?

The paper thin veneer will rip, no longer able to hold my weight, and I will be plunged into the horrors just beneath the lie.

How.... HOW did-?! I... I CAN'T-!

I put everything I am, into letting nothing show. E-Everything is FINE. Do not turn around. Please. Please, Gods, do not notice me or turn around! I breathe. Breathe. Can't do nothing now, but breathe. Panic is the mind killer. I remind myself of that. People do stupid things, when they act in panic. Think. THINK! Plan. THEN act! Breathe.

How? HOW did this happen? Trace it back. Find the source and we can... can maybe unhook the noose. Fix this? Escape? Run and keep running. Find the edge of the map and keep going. Where did it...? My brain, maybe my magic, finally takes pity. Connects the wires that have long been JUST missing each other. My mental list of Genre Troupes. My history with the Prince.

The blood drains from my face.

Oh fuck. Shit! Oh fuck, oh SHIT. Yandere. He was a YANDERE hidden route character! Wasn't he!? It's the only thing that makes sense with the-! No, no, he should still-! But, wait. No. No, no, NO. Oh god! I pulled a combo attack. "Childhood best friend" even though we WEREN'T. I was basically the closest in age to him! AND the only non-asshole! So that's "Different From The Others"!

Oh mother FUCKER, I pulled a "Only One Who Cares About Me" while SERVING him! His fucked up little squirrel brain would have taken that as "belonged to him" only to have me "taken away" when I was assigned elsewhere! Every time I kept someone from ABUSING him, I was making it WORSE. Every time they reassigned me, somebody was "trying to take me away"!

Oh sweet merciful FUCK, I got STABBED!

No WONDER he lost his absolute shit! He was unhinged to begin with! But instead of latching on to Protagonist and being HER problem, he latched on to ME! Why did no one warn me he was-!? Actually, I have no idea. Non-Just-Straight?! That! One of the THAT! Like FUCK I'm asking! He'd think it was an invitation, probably!

Because he NUCKING FUTS! Squirrels in the brain! Def Con OH SHIT!!

Yandere! Shit! I'm gonna di-!

"Something's upset you." The crown prince's surprisingly deep voice says, breaking the silence. I flinch. "I can feel your magic moving. An attack, perhaps? Or is someone saying something they should not."

He... oh, great, amazing! He can FEEL my magic. The magic INSIDE me body. That magic. Yeah, I don't feel stripped naked and on display AT ALL. Thanks! Definitely not invasive, your Highness! Still, I have to answer. Carefully. Very, VERY carefully.

He hums, disbelieving, as I reply. Lifting his pen and setting it aside. A graceful hand lifts. The mere flick of his fingers. "Move" it means. "Come where I can see you". Imperious and royal. Casual in it's assumed control of me. Why would he believe anything else, after all? He IS a prince. The CROWN Prince. Future KING.

He DOES own me.

I keep my breathing even. Keep my hands from visually shaking by tightening my grip on my spear. Even, professional, steps. Forward. Turn. Face your ruler. Your BETTER. No eye contact. Even breathing and eyes to the horizon. You are a statue. Just... just be a statue. No thoughts. You can do this.

It doesnt help. I can FEEL those pale, pale eyes. Striking and blue. Rare flower petals or glacier ice, they have been called. Compared to all sorts of haunting things. The Crown Prince is a beautiful man. That dangerous sort of pale beauty, that make for excellent portraits, of bright and holy things. That fools the eyes into thinking surely, SURELY the soul before your is Good. Trustworthy.

How could anything so beautiful be DANGEROUS?

Be corrupted and insane? A killer. A madman.

A MONSTER.

I stand at attention. Where he can observe me. His little toy soilder. Kept like a PET, I know realize, and try not to feel like I am being picked apart. Like a mouse in some tigers cage. The far wall sure is fascinating. Mmmmhmm. Very... very wall-like. Glass and artfully arranged flowering vines. Very pretty. What a wall! Ten stars for wall-ness.

The near silent shift of fine fabrics. A tap. Nail on high grade armor alloy. Just the smallest of sounds that nonetheless seems deafening. I barely stop myself from jerking back in alarm. Can't prevent my gaze from snapping downwards. To the arm outstretched, the elegant hand curled, the well manicured finger nail on the single outstretched finger... that has placed itself right over my heart. I freeze, utterly.

"You're getting nervous, aren't you? Growing uncertain. I've been so busy planning ahead, I've forgotten the here and now, haven't I?" He muses. That finger I should not be able to feel, that somehow feels like a knife trailed along my skin, glides slowly down. A meandering path down towards my belt. "I've neglected you."

The finger hooks into my belt. I am dragged forward a few stumbling steps with a deceptively strong tug. There is significant muscle, hidden by the almost waifish cut of his Highness daily wear. The eyes watching for my reaction are predatory. Intent. It was as though there should be fangs, in that pleasant, politician's grin...

"My steadfast knight, warrior of my heart, you've been so patient for me... so LOYAL." He rolled the word across his tongue as he said it, eyes locked on me with the sort of interest hunter keep, more a sigh then a word. Somehow.. Somehow the concept became OBSCENE, once in his hands. "So good for me. Even after all this time. Soon, Dearest. Soon we won't have to hide. I promise."

I had NEVER been a knight. Not even CLOSE to qualified for the training. Not even a single branch, magical or otherwise. Worse? I knew for a FACT? We had never, not ONCE, been lovers. No stolen glances. No fumbling youthful hands. No "hey, let's explore this closet!". Nothing. I? Had been studiously professional, if a decent human being.

This was ALL him.

What narrative had he painted in his head?

My heart pounds. My brain somehow both gibbering hysteria and unnatural calm. I... I think I may be disassociating. But all I can think, all I KNOW, is that I can NOT, Under ANY Circumstances, break the illusion. Do NOT argue. Why YES, deeply insane FUTURE KING, I DO love you so VERY much! Hey, don't mind me, just left the phone running. Gonna go for a walk. Buy some milk.

I watch, pleasant service industry smile feeling plastic on my face, as he leans forward. Rests his head against my armored chest, as though we were lovers. Just stealing a quite little moment alone. His hand slides along my belt, fingers hooked into it, the brush of his knuckles feeling far filthier then any groping hand. I can HEAR him breathing me in.

Obscene. How is he making such chaste contact so deeply obscene? He let's out a pleased hum and I want a shower.

"Kneel for me?" So soft I almost don't catch it, it takes a moment to register the words. This time, I can not stop myself from tensing. I know he feels it, but can not bring myself to care. "Shhhh shh shh, none of this, my Darling. To your knees before your King. Sweetheart, my dearest. You're going to be serving me there for the rest of our lives. It's okay. Your King won't rush you. He knows how shy you are. How nervous."

W-Well THAT wasn't treason! At ALL! Ha ha...! Oh god.

Hands at my waist. When did the other one-?! I'm shaking. Smile. D-dont set him off. This is fine. I... I shouldn't be ABLE to feel their heat, through my armor. Somehow I do. I want to back up. If I got to do this? At least let me-!

But, no. Pressure. Hands on my hips dragging me down, watching eyes expectant. In stops and starts... like a seizing automaton, my knees bend. Down I go... I guess.

Almost instantly, there are hands unbuckling my helmet. Sliding it off. Stealing it away. Fingers slide through my hair. Cup my cheek. A thumb running itself across my mouth. The prince seemed to loom. Hungry as he stared down at me.

"Beautiful. My loyal knight is so, SO beautiful. I am going to give us the world. Take what is ours. No one will EVER hurt us again, Dearest. I will keep you forever. Dress you in armor and roses. Mine and mine alone."

There was madness in his eyes. Obsession. Is...is that what that color meant? That burning, terrible blood? It's too late. Oh god, it's too late for that to help me. I smile. Do not argue. Fear and fear and fear. I have to get out. On my knees, it is a terrible view of what's to come, should I fail. The Games's utterly fucked. I no longer care.

I have to get out.

The King, after all, has gotten sick lately.

[h0n3yk1tt3n]

4 + boyfs :)

Boyf Riends + 4. things you said over the phone

September 1, 2015, 7:12pm

"Hey, I got my stuff from my hookup. Where are you right now? I've been looking around the food court for like ten minutes and you're just, gone. Uh, I guess I'll check Hot Topic until you get back to me. See ya."

September 1, 2015, 7:47pm

"Jeremy, why did I have to learn from the cashier at Forever 21 that Brooke and Chloe offered you a ride home?? And that you ended up just walking out instead?? I can't find you in the parking lot, man, like... Did you just-... walk home? Some warning would've been nice, ya know? Anyway. Text me so that I know you didn't die or whatever. Later."

September 2, 2015, 12:25pm

"Oh fuck off, don't pretend you don't know I'm calling you. I can see you sitting next to Rich! Your phone is right there next to your lunch tray! Good job taming him I guess, but can you stop ignoring me? For like, a minute?? Ditching me at the mall was one thing, but this is just... weird. You're being weird. And not the good kind. The like, got-replaced-by-a-changeling kind. Look- can you just look at me, Jeremy?!"

September 2, 2015, 3:43pm

"'Optic Nerve Block-' dude, what are you doing?? Is this a bit?? Haha, very funny. Jeremy's hot shit now and is too good for Michael. Great. Cool. Just-... actually ya know what, it's not cool. I'm not laughing. I mean, congrats on snatching Brooke up. That's... I mean I thought Christine was... you've just been gushing about her since... I- something about this is... *sigh* Never mind. Let me know when you decide to stop doing... this, whatever it is you're doing."

September 6, 2015, 12:56pm

"I hope you know I'm just gonna keep blowing up your phone with texts until you acknowledge me. I'm not asking for much, man! Just... an explanation? Maybe? Just something so that I know we're still cool or whatever. I know you're probably busy with rehearsal and all, but it's... weird that we haven't had a sleepover this weekend. I... can't really remember the last weekend where... *huff* Ok, so your SQUIP clearly doesn't like me. Fine. It can join the club. But... you still like me, right? Can I... can I get that much?"

September 12, 2015, 2:36pm

"Hey, since you and Rich are like, buddies now or whatever, you think you could call him off? He's still pulling his bullshit on me. And normally I wouldn't care that much, but... I dunno, it was different when it was both of us. And now you're just letting him go off on me?? Where's the Jeremy that broke his finger on a homophobic dickhead's nose two years ago? Where's the kid that became a little ball of rage that I had to restrain when guys gave me shit? I know freshman year was like, a really angsty spell for you, but... fucker- what do you want from me?! Can we just talk? Please??"

September 28, 2015, 2:03am

"Look, if you never wanna see me again, can you at least just say that?! Just tell me so that I don't have to question if you've actually decided to look in my direction or not? You haven't blocked my number, so you obviously... You're just-! Ugh! This isn't like you! Even if you do give me the silent treatment, it's never for this fucking long! If I fucked up somewhere just-! Tell me!! As much as we joke about it, I can't read your fucking mind! Fucking- text me! Pass a note! Flip me off! Something! This is fucking stupid!"

October 14, 2015, 4:47pm

"Have I mentioned how weird it is to hear other people actually name-drop you in the hall? Like, I'm still Antisocial Headphones Kid and probably will be until graduation. It's not like I care. Shit's not gonna matter in college. And even if it does, it's not gonna matter in the real world. In jobs or whatever. ...I don't... *sigh* I can't just keep calling you to yell about how you left. It just- it's old. And annoying. For me. I don't care if it's annoying for you. You're probably not even listening to these. Just... ugh, whatever. I'll see ya. Gonna go out on a limb and say you won't see me though."

October 27, 2015, 10:56pm

"Look, I- ...something about this whole SQUIP thing is really fucking shady. I just... it-it's creepy, ya know? You had to buy it at the back of a Payless, the dude selling it was sketchy as hell, and there's fuck-all on the internet about it. It's... and this isn't just because I'm salty! I mean fuck you still, but this isn't about that! Like I'm genuinely... this- it just- it's weird. I shoulda- fuck, I shoulda picked up on it sooner. I should've-! Ugh, I wouldn't have to leave you all these stupid voicemails if I'd just used my brain for two seconds! I'll... *sigh* tonight's been exhausting. I'll pick this up later. If you decide ya wanna clue me in after all this time, be my fucking guest."

October 30, 2015, 10:32pm

"Shit- ok, I get you're still doing your dumb little ignoring me thing but- fuck, you gotta get that thing outta your head. It's- I-I have this online friend, his brother had a SQUIP and- I'm looking at the videos and-... Y-you just- it's bad. It's really, really bad. I wanna come to you about this in person, but you're like, never home when I go there. And your dad doesn't know where you are either?? He just assumed you were with me! Which, I don't blame him after all these years, but... Jer, it's so fucking bad. I'm... I'm getting you to listen one way or another, so fucking help me."

October 31, 2015, 11:47pm

(There's no sound for several seconds, besides slight shifts in movement. It's all very muffled. Any words spoken are too quiet to distinguish, if they even are words at all. There might be the slightest inkling of a song in the distant background, though it's anyone's guess which song it is.)

*knock knock knock knock*

"*sniff* Shit-"

(There's some indistinct sound on the other end akin to one clambering about in a confined space. Metal rings clatter on the curtain rod as the plastic sheet is swept back.)

*knock knock knock knock*

"Just a fucking minute, man!"

*ssssshhhhhhhhhh*

(The sink is turned on, water rushing out of the faucet and hissing against the pearly white bowl that it's confined to. Its flow is interrupted by the flesh of cupped hands collecting it every few seconds, followed by the splatter of it falling back down in a scattered arc rather than a focused stream.)

*knock knock knock knock*

(It's not long before the handles squeak and the water is shut off, leaving the indistinct thrumming bass of a song that's been turned up far too loud.)

"...Hello?"

(Besides the underlying hum, silence. A lonely, lonely lack of sound, before a long sigh.)

"Figures..."

(There's nothing more than this quiet, rhythmic thumping for a long time. There's very little to break the monotony of it beyond the occasional sniffle of swallowing of phlegm.)

"Is that really how you see me? Or were you just reaching for the pettiest fucking word you could've used?"

(The scream of glass echos chillingly in the small room. Sparkling crystals twinkle and sing against smooth porcelain, a prickly harmony to go with the melody of ragged sobs.)

"God-! Dammit!"

(There's a soft thud, and then a long dragging sound akin to one sliding down to sit against a wall.)

"Fuck..."

(An eternity of smothered weeping seems to pass, though in reality it's barely more than a full minute, before a blood-curdling scream is heard, disturbingly loud for how distant it sounds.)

"FIRE!"

"Shit- what the hell??"

November 1, 2015, 2:14am

"I'm guessing you don't know this, since you didn't run out of the house screaming or get dragged into an ambulance, but Jake's house burned down. Yeah, that place where that party was happening where you-... I'm fine, by the way, because you obviously cared. Paramedics got all the glass out of my knuckles. I just... wanna confirm you're fine too. Because... still fuckin' care about you and shit. Yeah, thanks for waiting up, by the way. There's no indication you were ever fucking here, so I can only assume you bailed before anyone even smelled smoke. Glad you're safe, dickwad. Hope you can extend the same relief to me."

November 12, 2015, 5:49pm

"Hey. I'm... coming to your performance. Your dad kinda... If he's suddenly wearing pants the next time you see him, you're welcome. Guess you can thank him for me coming to see your show too... I won't have any flowers for you, but... hopefully I'll have something just as good."

November 12, 2015, 6:52pm

"--- entire stu--nt bod- -- do it!"

"Wh- Jeremy?"

"Mich- GAH!"

"Shit! Where are you?"

"-- ---- ---- ---- -- ---! -- --- -- ------ --- ---!"

November 16, 2015, 11:47am

"Hey, um... it'll probably take you a while to listen to this, if you... choose to listen to it at all. Um... it was nice seeing you at The Play, all things considered. It... it was almost like things were normal again. I... I missed it. A lot. Maybe uh... maybe once you wake up, once things settle down, we could... talk? Just... at all? Doesn't have to be a call back. Could be a text, in person, note passed in class-"

"Carrier pigeon."

"Rich says carrier pigeon. He's your roommate. You'll see that soon enough if- ...when you wake up. You've been pretty determined to stay asleep though. Four days... heh, you tryna make us jealous? I just... hope you wake up soon. Before New Year's would be nice. No pressure, obviously, just... I... *sigh* 'I miss you' would be an understatement."

November 23, 2015, 4:13am

"Hey, Michael, um... I... listened to your voicemails a couple... couple hours ago. I was going to call back when I finished them, but it was late and I figured you were asleep. Um... I guess it's even weirder that I'm calling at 4am than it would've been if I called at 1:30, but... *sigh* I'm sorry. For everything. I know I said it at The Play, but I didn't... I couldn't really... I-I'm sorry. For bailing on you at the mall. For the optic nerve blocking. For the... the shit I said on Halloween- just- refusing to believe that you were trying to help, and- Fuck- the fire. I know I didn't have anything to do with it but... I'm sorry... for making you think I didn't care about your safety. I'm so glad you got out ok, really, and... I'm... sorry for making you punch a mirror. I don't... think you meant to call me in the bathroom, but... I heard... some stuff. I don't know if it was everything."

(There's an audible swallow.)

"I just... I don't... understand, why you still helped me in the end. After... after everything. I'm grateful, and thank you, but... I was so afraid I'd burned that bridge on Halloween. No- no pun intended. I thought you wouldn't-... I-I was so sure- the SQUIP was so-"

(There's a long pause. One would think that the message had abruptly cut off if not for the shaky breathing on the other end. There's a tightness in his voice when it eventually comes back.)

"'He won't come back to you. No one is coming for you.' That's what it said. And I was convinced that I'd fucked everything up and you'd never-... but you did. And-and I'm sorry we haven't done anything together since the hospital. I've just been really... it-it's an adjustment, not having a computer telling me what to do, and balancing hormones and chemicals and- fuck, I've gotten like, no sleep this weekend. I toss and turn all night and if I don't toss and turn, it's... it's nightmares, about... *sigh* Sorry, I shouldn't dump my shit on you. Not-not like this, not after..."

(His voice crumbles, like it's taking every ounce of strength he has to keep it audible without devolvng into indecipherable cry-speak. It's all but a raspy whisper.)

"I... I do wanna see you again. I do... still care about you. A lot. So much. Not seeing you for so long, it... it's caught up to me, and... I just wanna fall asleep next to you again. Which sounds clingy as fuck, and maybe it is, but I... You're the only one that..."

(He can't hold the sobs back anymore, but he does his best to muffle them. Keep them quiet. Avoid waking his dad. Hide the pain because he doesn't want this to be about him. It shouldn't be about him. Why is he making it about him?)

"*sniff* Fuck, how long've I been talking? Sorry, I'll- just- cut this off now. Ok, um... night. I... I love you. I just... wanna make sure you know that."

November 28, 2015, 1:12pm

Send you my love on a wire~

Lift you up every time

Jeremy startles awake at the sound of Michael’s ringtone, something he hasn't heard since before the start of the school year when Michael absolutely had to tell him about the dream he'd just woken up from. He tries to shake the remnants of sleep fog from his head as he pats around for his vibrating phone, thankfully finding it before the chorus ends.

"Mmg, h-" Jeremy's voice is scratchy from being woken up, so he clears his throat and tries again. "Hello?"

"Hey, bud." Michael's voice is quiet and soft through the receiver. He sounds tired as well, but in a constant, passive way instead of a groggy way. Jeremy wonders how long he's been awake.

"Hey, um..." Jeremy sits up and loosely hugs his knees, unsure of what to say next. Not wanting to leave Michael with nothing, he circles back to, "hey."

A weak chuckle flows through the speaker, colored with a fondness Jeremy's not sure he's heard since the last time they got high together. "Are you always this articulate?"

It's sweet, knowing that Michael's first reaction is banter instead of what Jeremy would consider much-deserved exasperation. He doesn't understand it, but it tugs his mouth into a small smile. "I uh... didn't fall asleep until like 6am, so..."

"Right, yeah. You did mention trouble sleeping, didn't you."

That smile crumbles as dread pools into his chest. He can't help but hide his face despite Michael not being able to see it in the first place. "Oh gods, you listened to that voicemail?"

"Couple times, yeah," Michael confesses, and it makes Jeremy cringe in embarrassment."I wanted to come see you earlier this week, but there was school stuff, and then Thanksgiving happened and..." he trails off a bit."Yeah, um... sorry."

Jeremy shakes his head fantically. "Nono, you're fine!" he insists. He doesn't want to lose this chance, but in the moment, his scrambled brain doesn't quite know what to do with it. "It's... I- do we wanna, I dunno, um..."

"Yes," Michael says immediately. "We- I do, yeah. Totally unrelated, but you should look out your window."

Jeremy blinks as he crawls off the bed toward the window. "Is it all snowy or are you waiting out there like you're in some kind of movie?"

He pulls the curtain back to see Michael standing on the sidewalk, a bright red swatch on a brilliantly white canvas, his hoodie lightly dusted with snow. It reminds Jeremy of powdered sugar on a lemon square. Michael waves his free hand, the other one still holding his phone to his ear.

"Yes."

Jeremy tentatively waves back, though it feels more like his hand trembles against the cool glass than it feels like a proper greeting. He feels his body shaking not from the winter weather creeping its way in, but from the nerves that come from seeing his best friend again after... well, admittedly not very long, but it's different this time. "Hi. I'll uh, I'll meet you downstairs, yeah?"

"Cool, see you in a second."

"See ya." Jeremy hangs up and pulls on some soft pajama pants before hurrying down the steps. He doesn't even check the downstairs window to confirm Michael's location before opening the front door.

Sure enough, there he is, a vibrant red light in the dull white fog behind him. Jeremy holds back on his urges just long enough to let Michael inside and shut the door before throwing his arms around him. Michael catches him easily, the cold from white flakes melting into red fabric doing little to negate the warmth of his embrace.

He remains sturdy as Jeremy quivers against him, silently refusing to let go of him any time soon. Jeremy attempts to blink back the tears threatening to spill out, but only really succeeds in disguising his sob a shaky sigh. As long as he can release the tension in his throat without being too loud about it, he'll take the win.

"I love you too," Michael whispers into Jeremy's hair, squeezing him snugly. "I hope you know that."

[munchflix]

MUNCHFLIX - HALLOWEEN ENDS

IMDB BLURB: The saga of Michael Myers and Laurie Strode comes to a spine-chilling climax in the final installment of this trilogy.

WARNINGS: The usual blood and guts slasher stuff, plot holes, discombobulation, facepalming, psychic linking, the elderly, old Michael Myers. Some cheesy gore included in the review.

RATING: You are finally safe from Shia Labeouf.

OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER: All reviews are done solely for humor and should not be taken seriously ever. If you cannot handle cursing, crude humor and probably some offensive things, pls do not read this.

Munch: This is going to be full of so much of us just ranting. I hope you fuckers like reading, because we have some things to SAY. There's so much going on in this movie, and absolutely none of it made ANY sense to me. I don't understand why this was a trilogy when the only thing the movies had in common was Jamie Lee Curtis. The first movie has nothing to do with the second. The second movie felt like a two hour long trailer for the third, and the third movie completely ignored everything that happened in the two previous movies. This movie is an absolute clusterfuck. HOWEVER! My one unforgivable sin for a movie is that it is BORING, and my friends....my beloved friends...this movie is sure as shit not that.

Biscuits: I think you're frontloading this with way too much information. There's no real way to preface Halloween Ends and honestly there's no real need to.

M: Fair. The movie opens with the introduction of one Corey Cunningham, who is obviously not a collection of tumblr sexymans all crammed into one pathetic waifish sad little man.

B: He's basically like...dollar store Will Graham. He's perfect. He's tumblr sexyman bait 101. A textbook poor little meow meow

M: He was not, however, mentioned at all in any of the previous movies.

B: No, but he's here.

M: And he's a babysitter, replacing the entire Tommy Doyle storyline in the second movie.

B: Disclaimer, I don't remember anything about Halloween Kills except evil dies tonight.

M: The entire last movie was about Tommy Doyle!

B: I remember Laurie was in the hospital and a guy got killed and maybe we were the virus the whole time!

M: Corey really is like...the most pathetic. He's getting his ass handed to him by what...a seven year old?

B: He looks like young Patrick Wilson in this intro. They're watching The Thing! In the original Halloween, they did watch a movie called The Thing, although the John Carpenter version wouldn't come out for a few years. However it’s still a reference to the original.

M: Corey gets yelled at by this punk ass kid and goes to drink some choccy milk, because he's a baby.

B: As someone who drinks chocolate milk...wait, am I a baby? Beer? NO. Choccy milk. And there's a NOISE.

I diagnose you with babey.

M: Jeremy has staged a home invasion, because he's literally the worst little shithead kid.

B: In the old days kids in movies were like, “oh poor little Tommy Doyle, he’s just a nice boy who likes comic books” and nowadays kids in movie are always cursing and beating people up. Kinda boomer energy if you ask me. Anyways, Jeremy is going to really impressive lengths to make Corey think he's getting murdered or some shit. He's committing to the bit I guess.

M: Unfortunately for Jeremy, he's underestimated the poor little meow meow's claustrophobia. After locking Corey the babysitter in the attic, Corey begins to FUCKING FREAK OUT. Which, I understand. And then the parents are back, it's been like ten minutes.

B: There was an implied time cut but it feels really fast.

M: Jeremy is taunting the panicking Corey directly in front of the door and Corey then kicks it down, screaming about how he's gonna kill Jeremy and then kicks the door somehow hard enough to send Jeremy flying over the railing to his death.

B: That's honestly impressive considering that Jeremy is about as tall as the railing. Maybe don't live in a 20 story house, what can I say. The house doesn't even look that tall from the outside?

Funniest shit I’ve ever seen

M: Anyway, kid dead. Right in front of his parents. Corey bad. I wasn't expecting that at all the first time, it honestly was one of the few moments of this movie where I was like - oshit.

B: Corey IS bad, we establish that later, but he didn't mean to kill the kid so right now it's just like, well that sucks for everybody. 

M: The intro is cool though, the title screen with the pumpkins is cool. 

B: It does feel wrong to have the opening credits in BLUE. They've always been in that weird yellowy orange. Is John Carpenter alive? 

M: Yes!

B: I feel like we had this conversation last time, when Halloween Kills came out. Wes Craven is dead, right?

M: *laughs* Yes. How did the audience score get up to 57 percent?

B: Everyone was like OH MY GOD CUTE BOY. 

M: Laurie comes on the narrate the entire history of this particular timeline, conveniently leaving out the entire second movie except the death of whatserface, her daughter.

B: Including footage from the first movie, over 40 years old, which looks better than this movie. Halloween kills felt like it was just setting up this movie and they don't even reference it except with the lady who got stabbed in the neck. Laurie owns a house in Haddonfield now, which she bought with all her money from doing....something. She lives with her granddaughter now and she's writing a book. 

M: I guess she's been in therapy now. She's a kinder, gentler Laurie. 

Laurie Strode is in this movie, I guess.

B: Every movie has a different metaphor and none of them ever get fully fleshed out. They always feel like first drafts, even in the 2018 Halloween. I don't know why they keep trying to this hashtag deep stuff. Just make a movie that's GOOD and the metaphors will come naturally.

M: Try viewing a Jordan Peele movie, he's a master at it. Anyway, back to Corey, this pathetic wet man is now an adult or whatever but he's still a huge wuss. 

B: He was an adult! They said he was 21! So now he's ....25? These radio segments are giving me ptsd. 

M: I have no idea.

B: He works at a garage with his dad, who gives him a motorcycle. He is now me. He likes chocolate milks and motorcycles and wears flannels and I'm gonna sue them for putting my likeness in this movie. 

M: Cut to Allyson, who is still here for some reason. And her shitty almost boyfriend cop guy? 

B: He's into her or...he's flirting with her or...hey there's a guy. Hark a vagrant! Horror movies always gotta have a creepy homeless guy. It's kind of a gross stereotype that homeless people are insane and evil. I feel like the day has passed when we need to use the creepy homeless guy trope.

M: Corey wanders into a convenience store for some choccy milk and gets harassed by some fucking senior high schoolers who want him to buy them beer.

B: These are the unrealistically shallow bully stereotypes, which I also thought we'd moved past.

M: They even have the slightly reluctant bully character. None of these dudes look they'd be hanging out with a football jock. But here comes Laurie! 

B: Kind of like Henry Bowers, except Henry was an older kid picking on younger kids and these are kids picking on a grown man and causing him bodily injuries. Laurie shows up and has her ONE moment of seeming like a badass and they slash the bullies tires. This Laurie will never show up again. 

Laurie woke up this morning and chose violence. Unfortunately, she will not choose violence again.

M: The characterization is SO bad, everyone changes constantly. Why is my Laurie suddenly so soft and easily injured?? All I wanted was for her to kick ass this entire movie and she absolutely does not do that. She has little flashes of being the Laurie from the first movie, but overall she is so torn down and deadened. 

B: This movie has similar themes to Halloween Kills but they never reference the events of Halloween Kills, like the town forming an angry mob and killing an innocent man. That could have some parallels to Corey’s situation, maybe the town would’ve learned a lesson about jumping to judgments and mob mentality... but it kinda just seems like everybody (including the writers) just kinda forgot about that shit. Honestly if it wasn’t for Karen being dead, this could’ve just been a direct sequel to the first one and it would’ve made just as much sense.

M: Probably more sense, actually. Allyson is at work and Laurie comes in with Corey and suddenly OH MY GOD. Allyson is like - you are the tumblr waif I have been waiting for all my life. 

B: Also, gonna screech about how much this boy looks like Will Graham. His hair, his glasses, the way he dresses, they deliberately styled him this way. Just do that guy from Hannibal but put him in this movie. Also, Corey's arc makes no sense. They so heavily coded him as autistic in the first part of this that it might as well not be there at all. But then he jumps to being a nasty boy who enjoys murder like...really quickly. It spirals out of control so fast.

M: Everything in this movie does. Let's talk about pacing! Like so many movies we've reviewed recently, pacing is a major flaw in this one. 

B: Does Hollywood even know how to make movies anymore?

M: No. The first part of this movie goes SO FAST. There's no build up, it's just thrown in your lap, in your face, at mach speed. Corey and Allyson have had a super major bonding experience in 12 seconds over him getting stitches and now they're in love. 

B: Allyson is hitting on him and he has no idea how to react. 

Behold: the human uwu

M: Now Laurie is back at home with Allyson and this random tarot reader chick.

B: I will give this movie one thing, Allyson pulls out the death card and they say IT DOESN'T NECESSARILY MEAN DEATH, fucking THANK YOU. It's a pet peeve of mine. 

M: No you're right, it doesn't actually mean death in tarot but it says death and looks spooky so....Laurie has another little moment of being cool while she's making pies or whatever and talks about showing your tits to grief.

B: Corey's parents are a piece of work. Really just his mother. His dad or stepdad or whatever seems fine but his mom is awful. An incredibly overbearing and controlling parent, which I guess is maybe supposed to be influenced by his trauma? Or his neurodivergence?

M: Corey's dad is awesome tbh, I was rooting for him. Allyson is suddenly back at the junkyard with Corey and they're gonna have a lesson or something but it's just fodder for their stupid burgeoning pointless relationship side arc. 

B: We also get the obligatory bully's dad doesn't really love him moment but it's so irrelevant. Speaking of irrelevant, Laurie has a whole bit in a supermarket with Frank but at least these two have some chemistry. 

M: Frank being the cop from the other movies, and honestly I was kinda rooting for them. It's kinda cute and I liked the idea of Laurie actually being happy for a change. 

B: It feels genuine, the two play off each other well. Unlike Allyson and Corey where she's like HELLO I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU NOW and he's like.. Okay.... You can't just take this guy home, you gotta do your research.

M: Also for no real reason, Laurie is accosted outside the supermarket by the family of someone who was assaulted in Halloween Kills. This is one of the only references to Halloween Kills. Now more bullshit radio exposition. Allyson did not do her research, and takes her poor little traumatized autistic boyfriend to a crowded party at a public bar full of people who don't like him.

B: You can't just take one home cos it looks cute in the store! It gets bigger than you thought it would, it needs too much attention, it doesn't get along well with other dogs... This is how they end up in shelters Allyson!

Being a black cat, she really should be more conscientious of these things.

M: Or in the sewer. Introducing alcohol to a boy who only drinks chocolate milk, also not a good idea. Corey is, however, getting the fuck down. This isn't gonna go well. 

B: The first time I saw this, I legit thought he was having a seizure.

M: CONVENIENTLY, the mother of the kid he accidently killed is at the bar and drunk! Can you spell McGuffin?

B: She's still a little pissed about that one. There's another implied storyline in that Corey killed someone and was found innocent... wonder how that went. Might’ve been an interesting premise for a movie. Maybe they’re trying to imply that he got off because the defense used his neurological deficiency as a defense but they didn't want to SAY it. Maybe I'm reading too much into this?

M: Allyson chases Corey into the street where he yells a lot because he's massively overstimulated and upset and Allyson doesn't know how to take care of her new pet. To be fair, he's got points. They do not see him and Allyson in the same light. 

B: You can't leave them alone! He needs constant supervision! You think you can fix him but you can't. You don't know him like I do, I can fix him.

M: ON CUE, the bullies from earlier show back up after Corey walks off to harass him some more. For no reason. Also they have not changed their clothes. They start beating the shit out of Corey, as is his lot in life thus far. 

B: Another plot point, EVERYONE in Haddonfield is a fucking asshole. Corey, already angry and prone to outbursts of emotion, confronts the jock and they throw him off the bridge. Like for real. Corey accidently killed a kid, but these guys are just dicks.

M: They assume he is DEAD and just leave him there. And this is where...things start happening. Oh god. Corey is dragged offscreen into the sewers by what we must assume is Michael Myers. This raises some obvious questions. Why is Michael living in the sewer? What's he been doing down there for four years?

B: He just disappeared at the end of the Halloween Kills and just went to go live in the sewer? .....Why? 

M: Why hasn't he killed anyone in those four years?

B: This movie would imply that he, the same man known for his supernatural strength and endurance, suddenly became old and feeble.

M: How's he been feeding himself this whole time? Rats? Old Mcdonalds?

B: Maybe the vagrant has been feeding him? Maybe he doesn't survive on conventional sustenance. Also this movie rips off IT a lot. Everyone is an asshole, irrationally evil bullies, and weird monster living in the sewers. Except this monster is old man Michael Myers. I don't know. 

M: We are 1/3 of the way into the movie. 

B: Allyson is sad because her boyfriend got angry and left. Back in the sewer...Corey wakes up, there's rats. He's fine. Maybe a little head trauma. 

M: Michael Fucking Myers just....left him there. Just laid him down and went, aight. You just rest. I'm gonna stand over here and stare at you while you sleep. Then I'm gonna grab you by the throat and all of the sudden we're gonna psychic bond.

I...I got nothin'.

B: He chokes Corey nearly to death and there's a rapid fire dream sequence of Corey's entire life and now he's infected with the Michael Virus tm. (we forgot to mention that Laurie said something about being infected with evil earlier, this will become relevant-ish ) *laughter*

M: I don't even wanna type this out. This is really happening. There's been absolutely no evidence of Michael having psychic powers. There's been no evidence of Corey having these abilities, but here we are. There will not be another moment of this type of thing happening again. 

(Dib: They're having a bro moment. A Broment.)

B: Maybe it’s not like a psychic powers thing. It could just be...really bad editing?

M: It's implied that he's seeing all this through Michael's eyes! And then he just lets Corey go. Corey gets out of the sewer.

B: He's infected Corey with the Michael virus and now he's using Corey to do his bidding!

M: But that makes no sense because Michael goes out and does his own shit too! 

B: I'm trying to make it make sense! I’m trying rationalize this when the simple answer is that it just isn't rational. 

M: I can't believe you're sober for this one. The harbinger vagrant from earlier shows back up and is like- WHY DID HE LET YOU LIVE?? That's a very fucking good question, my guy, but it's moot because Corey is gonna stab him to death.

B: The vagrant pulls a knife on him but he turns it back on the vagrant and that's accidental death number two, and then he yeets the knife but now he's been infected with Michael Myers lycanthropy or whatever so he can go enjoy murder now or whatever. He has his crazy person Will Graham staring in the mirror moment, sweating and washing the blood off himself. 

M: All we're really missing here is a wendigo. 

B: Oh yeah Allyson's friend got a promotion and she's mad because she wanted it but that's not really relevant but I'm not sure what IS relevant. Laurie does a lot of monologing in this movie. 

M: That's kinda her entire role in this film now. Gone is my badass kickass Laurie. But there's Corey, standing outside her house like Michael Myers. 

“Hey who’s feeding this guy tiers?”

B: He's trying to farm Tier 3 off her. And then she comes out and Corey is like oooh sorry I'm sorry I got jumped and got my ass kicked. This is your sexy murder boy, this tiny boy who can't finish a sentence. 

M: To be fair Allyson, you kinda were a dick to him. But now he's infected and we get a Laurie slow mo where she's like HEY WAIT I SMELL EVIL. 

B: And Corey's just like - hey I killed someone is that gonna affect our relationship? But not really. They go to the house where he babysat for to show Allyson where he killed a kid. 

M: Perfectly normal relationship things. Just go to a murder site and tell your new girlfriend about it. There's still bloodstains on the floor ffs. But she's like - no it's cool, I heard about it and I was like - I know this boy, he's looking for me. 

B: Whatever the fuck. Laurie goes to visit Corey's mom and she's more than kind of a bitch. Why does this sound like a parent teacher meeting? " I know he's had his difficulties..." 

M: It doesn't go well. Now Allyson is at a restuarant with Corey where she trauma dumps and is like - I wanna burn Haddonfield down. Now she's suddenly all edgy in this movie. 

B: Allyson goes through like seven 180 turns in this movie. 

M: You're not afraid now, Corey? This entire town's been kicking your ass this whole movie. Then the fucking cop ex boyfriend CONVENIENTLY shows up in the middle of their dinner to also provide some rising action. 

B: Most of these people have no reason to be this awful! They're just horrible awful stinky people. It's just a town where everyone sucks. 

M: Corey's a badass now, because he's got Michael Myers virus or whatever so he's gonna get up in the cop's face, but the cop is a huge dick anyway. Also he is now wearing a blue jumpsuit. They leave and go on a romantic bike ride to her house where they're gonna kiss kiss make out. 

B: But Corey's like, nah, I'm gonna go. And this cop guy, instead of LETTING IT GO gets in his cop car to go beat the shit out of Corey, as is the town's national past time, but Corey knows what he's up to, so he's gonna feed him to Michael Myers. Because Corey is a murderboy now. 

M: No really, this is what happens. Why does Mikey need someone to bring him people to kill??? 

B: He needs to regain his powers or something.

M: BUT HE DOESN'T DO THAT. It makes NO sense. The cop guy find the dead vagrant and goes oh noes, but Corey is there and attacks him.

B: It doesn't go well though because Corey's still a little bitch but he runs into the sewer and this fucking cop GOES INTO THE SEWER. It's not worth it, homey! Your masculinity really so fragile you gotta kick his ass because he likes your ex girlfriend. 

M: I still don't get why Michael needs this shit. But there he is, and Corey's just gonna stand there because he likes to watch. " Show me how to do it!" Corey says like a fucking murder virgin even tho he's killed two people at this point. It ain't hard, bruh. You just stab. Michael is looking pretty rough tbh, he can barely even fucking walk. 

B: It looks weirdly sexual.  He's really horny for MIchael Myers, but he can join the club because a lot of people are horny for Michael. 

M: I think it's intentionally sexual tbh. It seems to be implied that Corey is in some way getting off on this. Corey runs back to Allyson and is like WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME, WE SHOULD BANG. 

B: He's just badly written Will Graham, that's all there is to it. 

M: Laurie sees them going upstairs and Michael apparently left the sewer to go stand in the bushes and stare at Laurie but now he's gotta go back to the sewer. Oh my god, we are only halfway through. Nobody talks like these fucking people in real life.

B: "I keep seeing his eyes, Michael's eyes in Corey." He's got Michael Myers eyes...like Betty Davis eyes, but not.

M: I want some ice cream, you type for a minute. Oh god, we're only halfway through.

B: WHOOOAA we're halfway there, o-ooh~

M: Michael in a chaiirrr. Or something, I dunno. Oh yeah, Laurie goes to the same bar Corey had his breakdown in, because it's the only bar in town, so we can further this stupid infection storyline - which was not hinted at or built up in any of the previous movies.

B: The dad of the kid Corey killed is rambling on about how Corey had the devil in his eyes. He looks like an angel, walks like angel, talks like an angel, but we got wise.

M: Everyone in this movie shows up at the exact moment they're needed for the plot.

B: Oh yeah, the shitty doctor is fucking the nurse who got the promotion at Allyson's work and they gonna get SLASHED. Finally, some cheesy gore in this fucking slasher movie.

M: OKAY - so all of a sudden, in this next bit Michael, who has been shown to be a feeble, barely-functioning sewer gremlin, proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is still very strong and very murderous. But after this scene ends, they throw that all in the garbage.

B: Bla bla bla get to the murder already. 

M: Corey has to...initiate things, for some reason. Corey has to do the foreplay.

B: Also, the scarecrow mask looks dumb. They couldn't have gotten anything mildly more sinister?

M: I love this scene where you can see Corey in the background stabbing the doctor like 18 times. Corey is basic bitch-ing this shit.

B: Corey is not very good at murder. But thankfully, daddy lion is here to show baby lion how to hunt.

M: SEE! Michael fucking holds her up by her throat! He stabs her clear into the wall! This is not a feeble old man! Meanwhile, Corey is like mentally masturbating. Or...just masturbating.

“You’re a murder tramp, murder tramp...”

B: He's very excited. 

M: Now I guess he went and got Allyson again so they could go on another ride.

B: They're speeding down to the radio station roof like two punk kids who don't give a shit for some exposition. 

M: Allyson just says infected for no reason? 

B: I think she's commenting on his wound but...it's like wow you're infected with Michael. Evil does not literally work like a virus! I understand the allegory but like...you don't get infected with it from someone else who is evil. 

M: The radio dj comes out and like everyone else in Haddonfield, he's a huge dick. So he sits there just berating Allyson and Corey for no good goddamn reason. 

B: They could just...leave the situation. But they just stand there and let him insult them until he tells them to leave. This is not how real adult people react to these situations. Corey's feeling overprotective. Laurie is stalking them. 

M: Back to Corey's house where his unbearably overbearing mother is slapping him and berating him and then his dad's like - I hope you find love. Wtf. And now it's Halloween. Corey is asleep on the floor of the murder house. 

B: Laurie is there! She's got a paper airplane, aka a reference to the beginning of the movie. Inside of you there are two wolves, Corey. One is gay. The other one is gay. 

M: Laurie can just smell the Michael, and she again mentions infection. But they never really elaborate on that. They never come out and say - hey Michael is infecting this town. 

B: Laurie is threatening in this scene almost to the point of seeming evil. She's like - Allyson didn't read the manual, she's not equipped to deal with you so we gotta take you back to the shelter, buddy.

Stop dating my granddaughter, grungy little murder hobbit.

M: Corey makes the incredible mistake of saying - if I can't have her, nobody will, and demands that Laurie just give up and let herself just drown in misery until she DIES. 

B: But then she's not there.

M: Her Laurie senses were tingling.

B: Or she didn't wanna listen to Corey's sudden and unwanted slam poetry. Which also doesn't make any sense. I'm trying to commentate on the dialogue but it's just nothing. It's a nothing sandwich. Corey calls Allyson on the phone sounding like fucking Ghostface. 

M: Why not throw another reference in there? 

B: And he's like - your gramma is trying to kill me and Allyson is just like - yes that is absolutely true. 

M: And then this fucking shit. Corey just zooms on back to Sewer Michael, and just kicks the ever living shit out of MICHAEL MYERS, THE UNKILLABLE KILLING MACHINE, THE PERSONIFICATON OF EVIL, THE MOTHERFUCKING SHAPE and takes his mask. Yeah okay. The same dude who was strong enough to pin a chick through a wall in the last kill. 

B: Corey is sapping his strength now?! Because of the Michael virus?? I'm trying to engage with this movie on it's own level.

(Dib: You tried to read this movie's terms and conditions?? WHY??)

M: This is such utter bullshit and I hate it. 

B: They have this whole drawn out scene of these two wrestle. There's no tension at all, it's just like two drunk dudes duking it out outside the 7/11.

M: Michael sits up though after his ass beating. 

B: The dumb teenage bullies, still wearing the same clothes, and Corey has scratched up their car or whatever so now they're gonna kick his ass again. 

M: Allyson is leaving Laurie and Laurie is like no he's crazy and murderous, but to be fair I don't like anyone in this movie. Laurie is obnoxious, whiny and preachy Allyson is dumb and doesn't pay attention to anything. 

B: Also again, it's utterly out of character for Allyson to just suddenly to be like no grandmother you are psycho bonkers crazy. 

M: The bullies have been led to the junkyard where Corey works which is obviously a fucking trap, but people in a horror movie never realize they're in a horror movie so they gon' die. 

B: They're gonna fuck up his bike but actually they're gonna get slashed and stabbed and shit. There's not even that much murder in this movie. 

M: There's almost no Michael Myers in this movie. 

B: Billy Bully gets stabbed in the eye and then they run away from a speeding vehicle in A STRAIGHT LINE, just go between the cars or anything?!?! 

M: Corey's dad is working late though and Jock Bully is like OHMIGOD HELP US and so dad goes out there but Corey's still murdering people but now with the Myer's mask on. And unfortunately for Corey's dad, the one not totally awful person in Haddonfield, he gets shot through the brain and dies. 

B: The kid crushed under the vehicle is still alive but Corey fucking BLOWTORCHES this jock bully and then crushes the other's head like a grape because he's apparently super stronk now. 

M: Corey's gotta go home now and kill his mom. Because we need more Halloween references since Michael's not even in this fucking movie. And then we're gonna go kill the radio guy because he was also an asshole. Corey's gonna be fucking busy if he's gotta kill every asshole in Haddonfield. 

B: Do not disgrace these old fucking retro jukebox songs with your terrible movie. 

M: Corey also kills his assistant, Darcy the mail girl. Also this kill is hilarious and they had to realize it looked fucking stupid and silly. No points for that shit.

I apologize but words could not do this justice.

B: The rest of the movie is not silly. Tone? Never heard of her. Allyson magically shows up right where she needs to be, in the town's one diner waiting for Corey but he stood her up to do murders. 

M: Laurie keeps calling because I guess that's building tension or something but not really because we already know Corey's gonna go after Laurie. I'm too sober for this. Laurie, however, went to the school of 'already lived through like seven Halloween movies' and she's not dumb.

B: She's gonna mope around her house and they're gonna set it up like she's gonna commit aliven't. Commit gun-head. As they say in Roblox, go commit stop living. But it was just a ploy?? I don't get it, why does she do this?

M: Because, like Michael has an evil virus, Laurie appears to have some sort of precognitive ability of her own when it comes to evil, and she knows what's about to go down. Also to fake out the audience. As if we really believed she would just off herself in the finale. 

B: She doesn't need to fake out Michael.

M: Michael who? She's faking out Corey. Michael has no part in this movie. 

B: She didn't really need to fake out Corey. She shoots him and he falls off the railing. 

M: What's the opposite of foreshadowing?

B: Dumb. 

M: She empties the gun for no real reason and then says LET'S GO BITCH to the dying Corey.

B: He makes ugly cry face, realizes Allyson is back and then pulls a 5000 IQ move. He is playing 5d chess. He stabs himself in the throat and then Laurie pulls the knife out just in time for Allyson to walk in and see her standing over the corpse of her boyfriend!

Oopsie daisy.

M: Laurie doesn't even try to explain herself. Also this is bullshit. Why did we spend the entire movie building him up and Michael's fucking successor only to have him OFF HIMSELF at the end of the movie just to one up Laurie?!??!

B: Corey deserved better. As I've said, Tumblr's manic pixie dream boy had the whole movie building him up just to give him such an ungraceful ending. I was banking on him sacrificing himself just to save someone else, probably Allyson. And that would ahve been a fitting fucking tumblr fucking meow meow ballering ending for him so everyone could be like OH NOES HE WAS A GOOD BOY ALL ALONG but no...they just end him. They just put him down.

M: Y’know maybe we souldn’t have spent all that time talking about how autistic he is and then constantly referred to him as a shelter animal. 

B: I'm allowed to make these jokes. When a bunny calls another bunny cute, that's okay. 

M: Allyson does not at all suspect foul play, she's just like oh god grandmother killed my boy. She doesn't call the cops or anything she just goes outside. 

B: And disappears from the movie for a little bit. 

M: And now Laurie is sitting there like oh bum. But again, her Laurie senses are tingling because suddenly FUCKING MICHAEL MYERS IS HERE and he wants his mask and his goddamn knife back but Corey has to be like HAH FAKE DEATH TROPE only to have Michael break his neck.

B: Why did they even have him come back to life if they were just gonna have Michael kill him? Because Mike doesn't need him anymore? Or he's angry that Corey betrayed him or whatever?

Godnight swet prins

M: We've never been given any indication that Michael has feelings. Let alone betrayal. He's just a shell full of evil. But anyway he's here and now we're gonna have the uh....climactic showdown?? 

B: Why did the cops call Allyson?? Why didn't they just go to the house where Laurie called???

M: This time Laurie doesn't have a house full of traps this time, but she does have....uh.....um....big kicks. 

B: Michael spent four years living in a sewer just to lull Laurie into a false sense of security. 

M: Not only does our boy know how to drive cars, he also knows how to use a garbage disposal. Also....again...this is not the feeble old man who got his ass kicked by a 25 year old twink. This is STRONK Michael, he is kicking Laurie's ass all over the place. Is he fucking old and sick or strong and unkillable??? 

B: Also why did they set up the whole Michael virus thing and him passing off his virus to Corey if they were just gonna kill off Corey? Also Laurie pins Michael to the table and stabs him a lot, pinning him to the table and she monologues again. 

M: And takes his mask off and now he's all old and sad and feeble again. Maybe the mask is the source of his power? 

B: Of all the confrontations these two have had over the course of the series, this is honestly the least climactic one. 

M: But then we get a montage of more climactic confrontations.

Maybe it’s supposed to be like...their lives flashing before their eyes or something?

B: Allyson just runs back in from nowhere and breaks Michael's arm and also apparently when Michael chokes people, they have flashback montages. Little known power of his. But fucking......but all of the sudden, because of that PHONE call I guess...Allyson has another 180 and is like Oh my god you were right, Corey is evil and I believe you and I was wrong and I'm gonna help you kill Michael. But WHY!??!? For what reason??? 

M: They filet Michael like a pig, making sure all his major arteries are compromised because it's not like the 90000 other ways they tried to kill him worked. The cops show up and they're like OH SHIT THAT'S MICHAEL and ignores the other dead guy on the floor because yanno. The soundtrack is good, but c'mon. 

B: I have a theory. 

M: Okay.

B: They wrote the ending first, then realized they had written the entire movie about Corey and then killed him off because they realized it didn't fit in the movie. They tie Michael to the roof of Laurie's car and have a huge Michael procession of the entire town to the junkyard. 

Dib: How does nobody record this and upload this to LiveLeak?

M: *laughs* Nobody's gonna tell because it's Michael. But tbh this would never happen. Laurie was writing a fucking book about it. Suddenly everyone in Haddonfield is here. 

B: An entire town of deplorable humans. 

M: This entire movie is so terribly lit btw. It's so dull. 

B: They crowdsurf Michael's body to the garbage grinder or junk grinder or whatever. Industrial shredder. 

M: If he's infected, his blood is getting on EVERYONE right now. 

B: This is my favorite scene in the whole movie. 

M: Laurie, standing triumphantly on top of the grinder, rolls Michael into the shredder and they grind him like so much fucking sausage. 

The SFX in this movie are like...really good.

B: How many millions of dollars did they spend on this movie? How many bags of PopRocks could you have bought with all that money and THIS was the best y’all could do? And then Allyson is like hey you were right about Corey this whole time WHAT???

M: Her and Laurie are all good now and Michael is definitely 100 percent completely dead this time. Super dead. He has been killed dead and Allyson moves away and moves on and Laurie writes her book but she leaves it open for a sequel. Please let it die. 

B: We get a footnote where she and Frank have a little mo' where he brings her veggies so we can remember their budding romance. 

M: I just wish like...any other movie had been made. This was so anticlimactic. Michael is barely even in it. Laurie is reduced to just...a whimpering mess, Allyson is whatever they want her to be in the moment, Corey is...pointless and yet the entire movie surrounds HIM. This is the antithesis of what I, and a lot of other people, wanted from a finale, but here we are. 

B: I adore this movie. It is terrible, it's an absolute trainwreck of a film that makes no sense and goes off the rails so many times you're left wondering if there ever were rails to begin with. It's is full of obvious 'cute-murder-boy sexyman-bait uwu' moments, but hell, I'll bite. It is a perfect storm of garbage, like a tornado in a landfill.

In our Halloween movie tier list, I made mention of Michael Myers being sort of a metaphor for the Halloween franchise as a whole, and honestly I think Halloween Ends is the best setting for this metaphor:  creature once powerful and feared has become old, embattled, and toothless, and barely able to claw out any relevancy in its own context. It tries to come back for a thrilling final showdown to prove it is still as strong as it once was, but ultimately proves to be a pushover and ends up getting shredded like the garbage it is. In many ways, Michael Myers is Halloween. And the fact that Corey Cunningham is the one thing from this movie everyone is hyperfixating on really proves that Halloween isn't even really relevant to Halloween anymore. But for all my words, I think this movie itself delivers the most poignant and quite possibly the most important message about the Halloween franchise that there could be, in the form of an unambiguous two-word poem: Halloween Ends.

Is it the ending we wanted? Hell no. But it’s probably the one we deserved.

Munch and Biscuits out, yo.

[landonlocks]

Name: Landon "Lock" Diaz Age: Twenty-eight Occupation: Employee at Oogie's Casino Sexuality: Bisexual Pronouns: He/Him Currently Playing: tbd Big Three: Aries sun, Aries moon, Aries rising

Headcanons:

Landon was never supposed to wind up in the Borne home. His mother actually gave birth to him after she had left foster care–despite being young, she had been able to move in with his father, giving him a real family. He didn’t even know that he technically had aunts and uncles when he was young, or that his mother had parents who were willing to take care of her. Instead, she’d fallen down the wrong path and ended up with his shitty excuse for a father. He left them when Landon was ten, and it was then that his mother finally went back to the Borne house to seek help. At least, that’s what he thought was happening. Instead, his mother dropped him off, and the next morning, she was gone, with no note, and not a word of when she might return. Spoiler alert: she didn’t.

It took a while for Landon to adjust to his new surroundings. There weren’t many kids his age at the time he moved into the Borne house, since his mother was one of the eldest of the children the family had taken in. It didn’t help that he had something different about him. If he thought enough about how invisible he felt, he could swear he became just that. He could swear there were times he could feel himself turn into other things–other beings, too, but was too scared that his family would kick him out if he ever showed anyone. It was rough at first, but one of his uncles, Oryan, took a liking to him. Landon still doesn’t know to this day what it was about him that stood out to his uncle, but he was grateful that he did.

 Instead of focusing on his abilities, Landon was taught everything and anything by Oryan about making it as an assistant, of sorts. When he was in his early teens, the casino was opened, and though he wasn’t nearly old enough to gamble, he was able to make his way around and deceive the drunken patrons of the casino. Landon tricked them into placing higher bets, even learned when to swipe their wallets straight out of their pockets. He didn’t get the nickname Lock for any of this, though, but instead for his specialty: breaking into and hot-wiring the cars of people who owed his uncle money. Though he never got involved with the Locusts like Oryan did, Landon frequented the metal scrap yard that they owned to send the cars to be impounded and sold for parts.

Landon did fine for himself until Sadie came along. She was a few years younger than him, and she quickly became his uncle’s little princess. He can tell even now that she’s being guided to follow his footsteps in the business, though Landon can’t figure out why. He was there first, and though he could work harder, sure, that didn’t mean that he was a shitty employee. Instead of looking to Sadie as a younger sister, he saw her first as competition, and still does, to an extent. 

The only reason he’s been feeling less threatened by Shock is because he’s been debating a way out of the casino. He searched for a while for an alternative, but has been coming up short with ideas. He’s heard of some magical organization that’s supposed to help people like him, but he’s still partially in denial that he has any sort of abilities at all. He’d rather just let the casino go to Sadie than work on helping some fuckers with powers. Landon doesn’t want to have a price on his head like he knows he could if he ever showed anyone what he can do. Instead, he hides it as best he can, only ever trying to go invisible or become something else when he’s really, truly needed it. Shock, Barrel, and his uncle are the only people who know about it all.

He’s not sure when it started, but sleeping with Sadie has become a nice distraction from how much he professionally can’t stand her. Landon used to be a bit of a flirt, but since getting involved with her, he’s been more careful. It’s not like they’re exclusive or anything, but he just feels some sort of moral obligation (which doesn’t happen often). He still messes around with guys just asa much, but he’s much more careful around girls now.

Annoying to a fault, and on purpose. He likes to push people’s limits just to get a rise out of them, which used to be done solely to pickpocket, but sometimes, it’s just for fun. 

Doesn’t really have a job title at the casino, but he mostly sits around and cashes people out most often, or is a dealer. Either way, he finds it easiest to steal.

Landon probably has a big heart under the arrogance and shit-stirring, but no one’s cracked it open quite yet. He has a lot of abandonment issues, and for that, he doesn’t stick around people all that often, whether it’s romantic or not.

Has become an incredible poker player over the years. It’s not legal for him to play in Oogie’s, but he plays on the side sometimes with friends.

[phoenixyfriend]

Rey Gives No F*cks About the Grandfather Paradox

Okay so since nobody’s suggested a fic under these terms, I ended up expanding on this post on discord and things snowballed. We kept to the basics of the entire plot revolving around Rey really hating her grandad and leveraging her blood relation to not be unalived about it.

With contributions by @atagotiak​, @dracothulhu​, @thepallaspalace​, and several others. The title comes from @gelpenss​.

The basic thing I absolutely need is this: Rey gets thrown back to the middle of the clone wars, and the subsequent plot leans in really heavily on her being, genetically-via-clone-dad, the daughter of the guy running the entire galaxy.

Nobody knows what to do with her.

The timing is mid-TCW for the past (because I want Ahsoka there) and vaguely between Episodes 8 and 9 because I... never watched E9 and don’t want to worry about the timeline. The only things that matter is that Luke is dead (he can die as he did in canon) and that Rey knows she’s Palp’s granddaughter (not the way she does in canon).

We'll say Luke found out from Anakin's panicked force-ghost and just went "well, fuck, okay, I should tell her this before she ends up in a situation like mine and finds out mid-battle or something."

Luke, prior to time-travel: Okay, so, now that I'm dead I know some things I didn't before. Like who your parents were. In the interest of full disclosure because I was in a very similar situation and I don't want you learning the way I did, I'm just going to come right out and say that your father was a clone was Sheev Palpatine. Rey: ... Luke: Are you okay? Rey: I don't know who that is.

(She grew up on Jakku, the history education was a little subpar.)

Setting The Scene

Imagine Rey showing up during or immediately before the clone wars. There’s this phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater who tells you that if you ran a paternity test, it would probably pop up the Chancellor. She may or may not bring up cloning. She accuses said Chancellor of being a Sith Lord.

Your other phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater, who may not be a teenager anymore but only barely, is very offended by this because Palpatine’s a Very Nice Old Grandfather Figure, but also he’s a little full of side-eye because if the blood test comes back as proof, then Palpatine had a kid and didn’t even know about them, or lied to Anakin, and that’s! Bad! Family’s important!!!

Palpatine hears about this daughter he apparently? Has? And is very confused because the timing doesn’t match up with ANYTHING he was doing, so the kid isn’t natural, and he says as much. (There is an explanation! It’s not a correct explanation, but he does come up with one.)

Finn and Poe and BB-8 all get dragged along because why not have the gang there? Nobody that’s already born, because [handwave] conservation of souls or something, IDK, point is the only person dragged along that’s even remotely close to already existing is Luke’s Force Ghost, who mostly hangs around begging Rey to be less impulsive. Finn is good because he is a nice polite boy, but for actual useful information they need Poe. The unfortunate situation is that the three do not land together. They land at the same time, in completely different corners of the galaxy. This means that nobody is there to curb Rey being her most impulsive self.

Time travel Rey knows two things. Luke’s dad ends up evil. Palpatine has always been evil.

She can solve one of these problems by killing the other, yes?

Rey: Ready to Rumble

See, the initial idea was this: Rey tried to break into the senate to kill Palpatine, got arrested, and then used the "he's biologically my father" card to get out of jail free. (Force Ghost Luke follows her like “please take five seconds to think this through.”)

But.

But.

It would be very, very, very funny if The Force just dumps her in a flash of light in the senate building and she just attacks Gramps on sight. Just a shouted "YOU!" and no-hesitation attempted murder.

Palpatine has no idea what's going on.

Rey took maybe two seconds to get identity confirmation and then started swinging.

[Image Description: An individual in a green metal helmet with an eye slit, holding a pistol. In the upper left, upper right, and lower middle are the phrases “I do not know who I am...” “I don’t know why I’m here” and “All I know is that I must kill.” End description.]

Of course, she gets arrested. There are Master Jedi in the Senate. There are Clone Troopers. Palpatine isn’t the weak old man he pretends to be. Of course she’s stopped.

But she isn’t executed in time for Palpatine to stop her from ruining his entire reputation.

Immediately after Rey fails to kill her Shitty Granddad, Luke's ghost shows up and begs her to not talk about the Sith thing because it will completely undermine everything she's trying to do. Pass off the attempted murder as something else!

Rey, panicking: "that fucker left me on a desert planet for 10 years!" "You owe me 19 years of child support you son of a Hutt!"

The Jedi have to do the investigation, because the girl showed up with a laser sword, and the conversation is, uh... interesting. (“Where did you get that lightsaber?” “I got it from a mysterious old pirate lady I never met before. I don't know, I was being shown around by a smuggler and a Wookie.”)

Interviewer: Why did you try to assassinate the Chancellor? Luke: Say it wasn't assassination. Rey: It wasn't assassination. Int: You weren't trying to kill him? Luke: Assassination has to be politically motivated. Rey: This was, um... not political. Assassination is political, right? Int: You mean this was personally motivated? Rey: Yes. Int: I see. What personal motivation? Luke: Jakku! Rey: He's my grandfather. Int: ... Rey: Possibly father. Nobody was very clear on that. Int: ... Luke: Tell them to run a paternity test. Rey: Oh hey, a blood test would tell us which, right? Int: ............ Rey: I spent ten years as an orphaned scrapdealer on Jakku. He's my father. I'm kind of a little angry. Int: ........... Luke: Good job, kid. You bought yourself some time. Int: I'm going to get a medic to see about that parternity test.

Obviously, it comes back positive. Congratulations, Sheev, you’re the father.

Rey comes with a ready-made built-in excuse for hating Palpatine that nobody can question or fault her for!

Rey, pouring Truth into the Force: I didn't even know I was related to the Chancellor until a few months ago, but it's his fault I grew up the way I did, and he should take some responsibility!

The entire thing is mostly kept hush hush but someone leaks it to the press and Palpatine's ratings tank.

"Chancellor, I think we'll need to waive family visitation until she wants you a little less dead." "I would like to find out why she wants me dead, and indeed, where she came from." "...sir, for your own safety--"

Who would win? A master plan years in the making spanning decades of manipulating and work? or One (1) paternity test

"Okay, so, Rey Palpat--" "Ew, no, I don't want his name." "You--okay. Sure, we can understand that. Is there a name you would prefer to put on the paperwork?" Rey, who would have gone by Skywalker in honor of Luke but can't do that when Anakin is right there and all: "Can I think about it?"

Rey: I don't know what I want my last name to be but I know I don't want his, and most of the people I’d want a name from have famous families like you... Luke's ghost, pointing out the Literal Nobody that she cares about a lot: How about Solo? Rey: ...Solo, then.

(A few months later she runs into Poe again and he offers for Finn and Rey to both take his name because honestly they need SOMETHING but at that point she’s already decided on Smuggler Dad.)

Backtrack a bit. We’ve got a bigger cast.

They all arrive separately. Poe, for one, does better than Rey, who is aiming for a murder, but not quite as well as Finn, who is currently being adopted and hidden like a secret cat by a bunch of Alpha Clones on Kamino. He vibes with the names-or-numbers thing. He doesn’t necessarily tell them where and when he’s from, but he’s very sweet and a great liar and they adopt him wholesale anyway.

The Finn situation is just... "Buir Ti, we need you to hide this man, we've decided he's our little brother but if Nala Se finds out she'll make him leave."

Of course, this leads into Shaak Ti teaching Finn how to Jedi.

Maybe consider Finn needing to almost be tricked into learning Jedi things because he willfully forgets it could apply to him. Finn does not like to think of himself as special, which is super valid, but frustrating for Shaak Ti when it comes to, you know, getting him to acquire knowledge. Finn's training at some point is "here, levitate objects with the Force to entertain the tubies." It’s a lot easier to convince him to practice when it involves the babies.

(Everyone on Kamino looked at Finn and went “oh I love him I’m keeping him and teaching him things.”)

(He’s just very lovable.)

Poe, meanwhile, buys the trust of Anakin Skywalker via R2D2 declaring BB-8 the absolute most baby of droids. R2D2 met BB-8 three hours ago but.

"Hey Obi-Wan this is Poe I met him like five days ago but R2D2 says he checks out because his droid is a baby." "That's nice, Anakin, did you know the Chancellor has a daughter who tried to assassinate him in broad daylight yesterday? Because guess who had to stop the Chancellor from getting assassinated by his daughter in broad daylight yesterday."

A summary so far:

Finn, on Kamino: Hey, um, I don't know where this is, but it's not where I was a few minutes ago. Do you think you could get me a comm? What's your name? Poe, on [dice roll] Denon: Oh, hey, you're General Skywalker? Nice to meet you, I'm so sorry about my droid, she's a little excitable and thought your R2 unit looked like a friend of hers-- Rey, on Coruscant: DIE, GRANDFATHER

Finn: [Peacefully vibing on Kamino, unaware of the chaos and bonding with the clones] Poe: [Trying to explain how he knows someone who tried to kill the chancellor and defend Rey] Rey: [Arrested for trying to kill the chancellor]

Just... just...

Anakin: Some guy ended up lost on base yesterday with his droid, how’s your day going? Obi-Wan: I had to stop someone who claims to be the chancellors daughter from murdering the chancellor after she seemingly blinked into existence in the Senate building. Poe: 😐

(Poe: Oh, so that's where Chaos^2 went.)

Poe: In her defense, she is his... well we don't know if she's his daughter or granddaughter, but she's definitely related to him, and she definitely grew up in a shitty situation that was his fault, so...

(Poe is trying very hard to explain this and not get arrested on the military base.)

As you’ve probably guessed, what's especially funny about all of this for me is the fact that Palpatine is fully aware that this girl shouldn't exist, but can't find a single piece of evidence about where she came from. He didn't start any experiments that could result in a female child, and he didn't have sex in that period of time, so where the hell--

Rey spends so much time in jail... BUT they do eventually assign her a Jedi Master. Possibly before she actually proves her evil grandfather is in fact evil. Most votes went to either Plo Koon or Obi-Wan. Plo, because he’s dad-shaped, and Obi...

"Obi-Wan, you already raised one feral desert child with implausible amounts of power, you handle this." Rey in return is very "Sweet, you vaguely remind me of Master Luke," and nobody knows who the hell she's talking about. Obi-Wan is NOT on board with this plan, she'd really be better off with Plo or like........ Mace.

Reunion Tour

What I need out of this is the eventual Finn and Rey reunion scene that is just excited screaming while someone in the background explains to Shaak Ti that yes this is apparently Palpatine's terrifyingly force-sensitive daughter who hates him.

(Finn senses Rey’s approach and just. Gathers the everyone to wait. He’s just :D REY MY FRIEND REY GUYS MY FRIEND REY IS COMING.)

Anakin shows up with Poe--just a guy who signed on to the military, no big deal--and then Poe and Rey are EXCITED and everyone's just like "Cool, how do you know this literal terrorist child?" And Poe has to scramble and "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh she saved my droid from a scrapheap once and BB-8 is basically my child so I owe her one."

Rey knows that Anakin ends up evil so she’s maybe not actively hostile but definitely very “I’m watching you.” That said, she vibes with him on a lot of things that he maybe doesn’t actively notice.

Rey picks up a snake, snaps off the head for venom avoidance, and starts biting off chunks. Obi-Wan's reaction: [undisguised horror] Anakin and Ahsoka: Ooh, where'd you find that? (Obi-Wan: And now I’m up to three feral children.)

What Does Palpatine Even Do?

OBVIOUSLY at a certain point, Palpatine is just phoning up every ally he has to figure out who broke protocol to synthesize a daughter for him.

So of course, Palpatine blame Plagueis.

She'd have been born five or so years before Naboo, just a few years younger than Anakin. It's such an EASY theory to build a conspiracy around. It is ENTIRELY WRONG, but it’s plausible! And anyone who might have been involved to say otherwise is probably dead!

A random bio-kid shows up you can’t possibly have contributed genes to? Maybe it’s the evil bio spark that did it.

Palpatine tries to placate her with the ‘my genes were stolen for an experiment and I didn’t know’ thing. It doesn’t work because her actual main complaint is he’s evil in her future but he tries.

It'd be a struggle to even get access to her, because of the aforementioned “maybe don’t try to talk to the daughter(?) that hates you” thing, but you know who Palpatine does have access to? The Chosen One.

Rey kind of decides on her favorites early on (she gravitates to Dad Energy and Sad Old Men so Plo and Obi-Wan are on her list, and that means decent time around Anakin and Ahsoka). It's really easy to talk Anakin into helping to some degree because "he'd like to connect to a daughter he never knew" and "a child of her power on a planet like that, you'd know her struggle, my dear boy" and so on. Anakin tries to connect! He tries to play up Sheev’s kind political work and how it can’t have really been his fault! It doesn’t work. Rey does not believe a word of it. Mostly she doesn’t even seem to hear him.

Rey's just like "...oh right, you're the melted mask that Kylo Ren was always ranting about," which means absolutely NOTHING to Anakin, but he mentions it to Palps, who loses his goddamn mind trying to figure out what she's talking about, because it also means absolutely nothing to him.

Here’s the thing: Rey’s already decided that Obi-Wan is cool, because Luke said so, and Plo Koon is dad-shaped, and she also gravitates towards earnest kindness in general, like she made friends with Finn real quick, so Ahsoka? Already getting along great.

She doesn’t dislike Anakin, really, he isn’t evil yet, he’s just... meh. She’s a little suspicious and she likes him less than the others but... Anakin.

Rey, to Anakin: You are my least favorite. Anakin, to Palpatine: YOUR DAUGHTER HATES ME???

And he goes from “she’s a lil standoffish” to “she doesn’t like me” to “she hates me” as is normal for Anakin.

It’s just an escalation of this one time Palpatine wants Anakin to not have rifts and trust issues with a person, at least not until later, because he needs information.

Meanwhile, that very moment, Rey is just like "huh, nobody here is listening to me about how make a sixth-hand carburetor work, where's Luke's dad?"

Anakin is venting to Palpatine about how hard it is to talk to Rey, and she's over in the Temple just like "Hey, that guy was useful last time, I should ask him," but also she only ever thinks of him as Luke's Dad.

(At one point, Obi-Wan is having a bit of a break down, and then Anakin starts having a breakdown about that, meanwhile the clones are (badly) trying to hide Finn behind their backs, Rey is watching Ahsoka practice and being like "I want two lightsabers," and Poe is trying to keep R2 from stealing BB-8 and Force Ghost Luke is just face palming in the background.)

(Rey deserved a saber staff, maybe one that can detach and turn into a jar’kai set. Possibly a pike. Mostly I just wish she got more chances to whack things with a big stick.)

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#259

“Seth? Right? C’mon in. Your brother told you who I am? Good. Want a beer?... Here you go. Let’s go out to the back deck. The sun went down, and the cool evening air is starting to kick in. Have a seat…. Ok. Seth, do you know why you are here? Let me be blunt. Your brother David owes me a lot of money. A lot. He’s been doing jobs for me that I need someone I can trust to do. But that’s barely covering the interest. I told him he needs to start working down the principal. So, he offered me… you….

“That’s right he sold you to me. You are going to whore off his debt…. Shut the fuck up. The deal is set. Have some more beer; it will help you to deal with what I need to go over with you….

“Your brother probably told you that I am a powerful man. Hopefully he didn’t tell you what I did. I will share with you one part of my business that you will be a part of. I have several whore agencies across several states. They ain’t like the whorehouses in the movies. The girls never see money; they show up at a set time and do whatever the man wants. They do not say no. They get to live in city, and they show their clients the best the city has to offer. They have everything paid for and get a nice credit card too.

“A few years ago—hell it’s more like ten or so, —I was convinced to do the same but on the fag side. Now, I knew nothing about fag sex, and it disgusted me. Once I got over the visuals, the business was just like the girls. The difference I found out was that I had to have two sets of whores—fag boys like yourself, and men old enough to be your father.

“It was Frankie, one of my goons, who told me that there is a lot money to be made by men taking the dominant role. I didn’t believe it. So, he arranged for me to watch him from a distance him work over this faggot. He didn’t tell me how much he was earning. When I saw this fag hand over three hundred bucks, I knew I needed to get into this. I mean my guy did barely anything other than smack the fag around, call him names, and sit on the faggot’s face at the end. That fag ate that fat ass while pounding its pud. Frankie even went over to the fag’s wallet and took an additional hundred out of it. And wouldn’t you know, that fag boy was loving life.

“Needless to say, that was how I got into the fag whoring business. I had Frankie lead it; he even got somewhat in shape, and now he’s my most popular whore men. Wait a minute, you know him. He fucked you behind a dumpster in the alley behind that fag bar a couple weeks ago. When I saw you at David’s birthday partner at my tavern and he told me that you were his sperm burping brother, I sent Frankie to find out more about you. I know that you can take a good pounding, face slaps, rough housing. Frankie also told me that you cleaned off his cock after we was done and that you drank his piss. You even begged him for more as he walked away from you, naked covered in piss behind the dumpster. That’s all I needed to hear.

“After meeting with your brother, all I had to do was press the massive debt. I knew how self-serving he was. He sold you out so fucking fast. And now I own you. Now strip faggot….

“You do realize who I am? No one ever disobeys one of my direct commands. Now think about your next move real carefully. STRIP YOU FUCKING FAGGOT. Take your time standing up. That drug I put in your beer will make you kinda dizzy if you stand too fast. Yeah, I didn’t want you to run back to your car. Kid, when you came in that door, you were mine. That’s it. Accept your fate. Good boy.

“Yeah, after Frankie roughed up that fag, I was curious. He arranged for me to use one of his regulars who was blindfolded. It was so much fun to kick and punch that faggot only to have him crawl to me, begging for more. With each time, I got more wicked, and they wanted more. I had a few fags over the years locked up and had the best of all worlds. My wife provides me with companionship. My girlfriend offers sensual making love and snuggling. And my faggot takes all my rage filled abuse.

“Underwear needs to go too. Let’s see what you have. Not bad. Looks like you are excited about being naked in front of me. That’s a lot of pre-cum. Decent sized balls. I’d say you are about six inches long. The shaft is a bit thin, but the head is good size. Your foreskin is not too long. That’s good. If there’s going to be one sweaty stinky dick around here, it will be mine. If yours becomes a problem, we’ll get you circumcised.

“What? Faggot, you are nothing more to me than my pickup. If I want to modify you out, I sure as hell am going to. I modify all my property. Tattoos, piercing, permanent hair removal, castration, branding, and so on. But actually, I am a bit cautious. I made the mistake of castrating a fag and regretted it afterwards. He just didn’t seem right to me. The cutter I went to tried to put in fake balls, but it still didn’t seem right. I ended up replacing that fag with another.

“I am looking for my perfect fag. I’m planning on letting my girlfriend go, but sometimes I need that close touch. Not going to do that with my wife. Every day now I realize that I want to be with faggots over women. Faggots are so much easier to mold into what I want. And every now and then I might snuggle with one.

“I like what I see. I want to see your cumload. Jerk off for me. I’ll give you a few minutes to do so. When you do, shoot in your spare hand. I want to see the quantity. I’m going to get your collar; it’s probably done charging. I’m also going to take your car keys. You ain’t going anywhere. Continue jacking….

“….Did you cum? You did! Good fag. When was the last time you came? Yesterday morning? Well that’s a good load. Here, lock this collar around your neck. Ok, so here’s the deal. You can jack off as often as you like, whenever you like as long as I am not using you. If I catch you jacking off, don’t stop. If you are watching porn, continue. But know this, no matter if you haven’t cum in days or you just had a massive orgasm, should I require your use, I fully expect 100% horniness and enthusiasm.

“This remote is hooked up to your collar. With this button… you fall to the floor just like that. Hurt’s like a mother fucker hunh? That’s on low. Remember that. It is also set up to shock you should you cross a 20-foot perimeter of the house. I am notified by an app on my phone when you do something that stupid. Also, the garage and my office on the third floor are completely off limits. You will not fare well should you cross that threshold without me.

“Bring your cock over here. Is your dick head sensitive. It is! Fuck yes! As you get soft, it’s driving you crazy. Good. Good. I see a problem here. Your pubic hair is all over the place. You shouldn’t have hair down here. Look how long this hair is. There’s enough so that I can twirl a bunch around my finger. With a firm yank,… it comes out in one clump. Aww shut the fuck up. Most of the time your screams of pain will turn me on, but now it’s just annoying. Another clump on the other side, and it doesn’t even look like you lost any.

“Look at me faggot. Say ‘Thank you.’ Good fag. Open your mouth. Here eat your pubic hair. Go on chew it. Nasty? I know, now swallow. And here’s… another bunch. Swallow these…. And these… And these… You’ll be permanently shaved in the near future so you won’t have to do much pubic hair eating.

“While you finish your snack, let me take you around the place and show you your duties. This is the kitchen. David told me that you went to culinary school but then dropped out. Well, you will be doing all the cooking here. Cleaning too.

“Let’s go downstairs…. This is your room, although you really don’t have privacy. Over there is your cot. Next to it is the plug you will put into your collar every night. I am notified on my app should the power level drop below 75%. That’s equivalent for not charging for a full week. Unless I just slam you with shocks, I should never get one of those notifications.

“You have a wash basin there, and your toilet is there. There’s your douche hose over there in the shower. No, I haven’t gotten around to buying it a toilet seat; the cold porcelain is fine. And I haven’t hooked up the hot water down here.

“Let’s go up to the Master bedroom…. You never climb into my bed unless I invite you in. In fact no non-sexual furniture for you either without permission. Through that door is the master bath. You will keep this place spotless. That includes licking clean my toilet. The rimseat next to it is when I want to make you toilet paper or a full toilet.

“And here’s the playroom. It’s totally soundproofed. You are going to suffer a lot in here. Screaming is encouraged. In fact, what time is it? Seven. Well we might as well start now. Get on all fours—knees and elbows. Spread those knees wide. Every night you will present yourself in this position, as you will every morning.

“Don’t get too excited. I am going to fuck you good, long, and deep. But that won’t until the end. We got a long way to go. You see, the only people who knows my affinity for preferring the boys to the girls are Frankie, me, and now you. Your brother thinks I’m adding you to my harem of fags. This is something that cannot get out. And if it does, I will know it came from you, and I want you to know the perpetual hell that will come your way.

“Tonight is a test of what you can expect, but keep in mind, tonight’s suffering will be only five hours long, much shorter than what will be if my preference is ever widely known.

“And after the paddling your ass to a welted mess, whipping your back until it turns to bloody hamburger, kicking your balls until they are swollen to twice their size, bruising up your face, and fucking you with very little lube, I may feel the need to snuggle up with you afterwards.

“But first, there’s a lot to do before we do that. Oh look your balls are just ripe for a good old fashioned full-force kick. Every night and every morning you will get one to always remind you what you are.

“Faggot right now with this kick your hell begins.”

[lonely-lost-soul]

Little Hope

(Platonic SBI Famliy x child reader)

Request 6: An imagine or Drabble about sbi family x reader where the reader is the newest adoptee to the family and it turns out they sleepwalk! They do random things like moving stuff around, talking to empty air, and can sometimes end up waking up nowhere near their bed. Just harmless shenanigans that might be spooky at first but are ultimately funny and endearing in a way. 

Requested By: @0melodydrifter0​ 

When Phil brought home a little girl wrapped in a blanket Wilbur was pissed, another child his father had adopted that Phil couldn’t take care of, another child that would end up being his and Techno’s duty to raise. However, something was different in his father’s eyes as he held the young girl close to his chest, 

     “Dad?” Wilbur murmured an eyebrow raised suspiciously high on his head, “What’s that?” He watched his father wince a little cradling the toddler closer to him, 

     “Wilbur...this is (Y/n). She’s going to be your new little sister.” Wilbur grits his teeth and felt rage flood through his veins again, not at the little one, no he couldn’t blame the child for his father’s savior complex. “An old friend of mine village was raided, he asked for my help but by the time I got there everyone was dead, everyone except her.” Phil moved some stray hair out from the kid’s eyes, “I couldn’t leave her for dead Wilbur.” Wilbur’s face softened a little bit, now wasn’t the time to argue with his father, especially since he had just lost a friend. 

      “Could I...see her?” He asked hesitantly as Phil knelt down beside one of his eldest, Wilbur noted the girl had flecks of (h/c) hair on her forehead, her face was covered in soot and ash, he noted she had the brightest (e/c) eyes he’s ever seen. She was quiet, very different from Tommy already, she reached up and touched the side of Wilbur’s cheek with a pudgy hand. The boy was done for after that, vowing up and down that he’d be the best big brother in the world to her even if it killed him. 

Much better than Tommy and Techno too. 

Speaking of the first time Tommy and Techno met you it was quite the experience. Tommy basked in the fact of no longer being the youngest member of the family and Techno was quick to remind him the being the middle child was far worse. Tommy had called him a bitch and Phil told him not to curse in front of his sister which he huffed at, swearing to Phil that her first word would be fuck. 

He got hit on the back of his head for that comment. 

Technoblade was indifferent about that situation, saying orphans were cringe and that you smelled bad, Wilbur was okay with both of these outcomes. As he stated earlier he was going to be the favorite brother whether you knew it or not.

By the time you were ten years old Wilbur’s wish had come true, you stuck by his side and were a quiet staple in his life. He also spoiled you rotten, he made you songs and snuck you cookies when Phil wasn’t looking, he’d do anything to see that smile a smile on your face. However, much to his displeasure it seemed that both Technoblade and Tommy were encroaching on his little happy bubble with his sister. 

It started with Technoblade, he noticed you following him around more often than not. At first, the hybrid was annoyed, he’d lock you out of his room and force you away by threatening to cut off your fingers if you didn’t leave him alone. However, that only made you cry and it made Techno panic if Phil heard you crying he’d be a dead man, and if Wilbur heard he’d be double dead. He began to try to hush you frantically, you didn’t calm down until he stated he would hang out with you a little longer. It shut you up immediately, oh you were a sneaky little shit, he could respect that. He decided he read to you if that was alright, you nodded eagerly, and he carried you into his room. You were a kid of few words and Technoblade could respect that, he pulled out a story about some of the ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses. Figuring the Art of War was probably too much for a ten-year-old, surprisingly he enjoyed himself. You were eager to learn and enjoyed the stories way more than he thought you would, okay maybe you bonded just a little. He had taken to calling you Moirai the greek goddess of destiny, not only that but Technoblade had started bringing you gifts from his adventures, something he never did for anyone else.

Therefore Wilbur was feeling VERY threatened and Technoblade LOVED it. 

However, while the both of them were having their little pissing contest they didn’t notice their younger brother swooping in to join the fight for your attention. As the eldest were at war with themselves, Tommy had taken to sneaking you out of the house to cause trouble by his side. After all, no sister of his was going to be boring like Wilbur and Technoblade, she was going to be as awesome as he was if he had anything to say about it. So when he snuck you out one night against their wishes when they were too busy to notice he decided to take full advantage of that opportunity. He adored hearing your enthusiastic giggles as he tore through the forest with you on his shoulders. 

You were typically a very quiet child, so to hear you laugh because of him made Tommy preen with delight. Your fingers were twisted in his blonde locks as you steered him like a horse, it hurt like hell but so long as it kept you steady he really didn’t mind. 

The joy didn’t last long because Wilbur and Technoblade had found them not soon after he escaped their clutches. Techno plucked you off his shoulders and held you in his arms, you let out a little whine of disappointment and Tommy frowned,

     “Oh come on Technoblade don’t be an asshole!” 

     “Don’t curse in front of (Y/n), Tommy.” Wilbur hissed hitting him on the back of his head, “you can’t just run off with her it’s dangerous!”

     “I can protect her just fine you bitch!” 

     “Oh please, you can barely protect yourself.” Technoblade scoffed as you began to play with his pink hair, hating the tense atmosphere. Tommy snarled at his brother and moved to punch him in the chest but Techno was quick to sidestep them, “nice one genius.” 

     “FUCK OFF!”

You let out a displeased whine and covered your ears at the volume Tommy shouted, 

      “Shut up Tommy,” Wilbur hissed “You’re way too loud and you’re upsetting her.”

     “WE WERE HAVING A LOVELY TIME UNTIL YOU FUCKERS RUINED IT!” 

     “Tom-Tom please shush,” You pressed a finger to your mouth in distress, mimicking a hushing movement. His face faltered, his voice lowering in volume as he apologized softly towards you. “Thank you,” a big smile spread across your lips, and all three brothers visibly relaxed.

     “Alright little one,” Wilbur spoke tenderly running a hand through your hair his heart-melting a little as you nuzzled against it. “Let’s get you home, it’s way past your bedtime.” You groaned in distaste falling against Techno’s shoulder with a soft thud, the man chuckled softly as all three brothers walked back home. 

It was about two months after that when your happy facade came crashing down around you, it had been a particularly rough day. Everyone seemed to be busy with one thing or another and you were left to your own devices and thoughts. They all came rushing back to you, the memories of the day your village got raided and your bio parents passed away. Wilbur was the first to notice something was wrong and had asked Phil to check up on you, so when Phil finally got around to ask what was wrong you burst into tears. That’s when they discovered you apparently remembered more of the incident than you let on. It broke their hearts to see you so upset over something you had no control over, but like everyone else in their family of misfits, you blamed yourself for simply surviving the tragedy. 

They had made sure to coddle you the rest of the day, Technoblade had made sure to make you your favorite food for dinner. Phil and Wilbur tried to keep you busy with music and potion brewing and Tommy played some discs to help you fall asleep. You did so smiling and his heart soared, point to Tommy for getting you to fall asleep with a smile. 

Your found family had gathered that night to discuss what they should do with you moving forward. Phil had declared they all do their best to keep you distracted the next few days, preferably in shifts if that was needed. Wilbur offered to spend the morning with you, he wanted to visit Niki and Sally and both of them loved you if anyone would cheer you up they would. Tommy offered the afternoon and he could bring Tubbo over and you all could play soldiers, Techno said he’d handle the nights with Phil. 

Everyone settled into bed to get a much-needed rest, out of all the brothers Technoblade was the lightest sleeper. So when he woke up in a cold sweat with you standing over his bed he almost shit himself. You had a glassy look in your (e/c) eyes, 

     “(Y/n)? What are you doing? Do you know how late it is?” Technoblade scolded reaching out to grab his glasses, you didn’t respond to him which made his nose scrunch up. “Did you have a nightmare?” His voice got quieter as he reached out to cup your cheek, still no response from you. “Kid?” He sat up as you turned away from him to wander back out the door, “what just happened?” He murmured scratching under his chin, he’d have to bring this up tomorrow. 

Wilbur was concerned and immediately wanted to seek a doctor, especially because you had no remembrance of the event. Phil ran a hand through his hair in thought, “could it be sleepwalking?” 

     “(Y/n)’s too cool to sleepwalk. What the fuck do you mean?” Tommy scoffed and you frowned eyebrows furrowing together. 

     “Well it makes sense, doesn’t it? She doesn’t remember walking around but it clearly happened. Hopefully, it was only a one-off occurrence and she’ll never do it again.”

      “Is it bad if I do?” You whispered shuffling on your feet suddenly self-conscious, “Tommy doesn’t seem to think it’s good.” They all glared at the teenager who winced and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Phil knelt down in front of you and cupped your cheeks with his hands, 

     “It’s not bad. We just have to take some extra precautions for you is all, it’s perfectly normal especially after the trauma you went through.” You bit your lip and nodded within his hands, “Tommy’s an idiot-”

      “Hey!-

      “That doesn’t make you any less of a person and it doesn’t make you any more abnormal either,” Phil assured as Techno began snickering behind him, he turned his head to shoot him a look.

     “What? It’s just funny assuring her she’s normal when no one in this house is normal.” Technoblade waved his hand, “we’re all a bunch of misfits- don’t give me that look you know it’s true. Half of us are hybrids and the other half are gremlins,” He motioned to Tommy again who made an indigent sound tired of being the butt of everyone’s teasing. “So she’s never gonna be normal, but she’s always gonna be one of us and we’ll kill anyone who even thinks about teasing her.” 

Phil smiled sheepishly sweat gathering on his brow, “Let’s not kill anyone Techno at least not now. Especially if they’re children.”

     “Now, now dad, Technoblade has a point.”

     “Wilbur.” Phil scolded as Tommy’s face lit up, 

     “Can I punch a child?” You burst into laughter at Phil’s horrified expression, 

     “No Tommy. No, you cannot!” 

     “It’s okay papa I give them explicit permission to beat anyone up who fucks with me!” You shouted and Tommy’s face once again lit up, he grabbed you out of Phil’s arms and held you close. 

     “You said Fuck! I’m so proud I’m teaching you so well!” He spun you around only causing you to laugh harder as the older members of your family glared at Tommy, “Now say it again!”

Wilbur plucked you from Tommy’s arms glaring at his brother, “No. No, she won’t say it again. That’s a bad word you can’t say it till you’re older.” A pout settled on your lips as you crossed your arms in frustration. 

     “But Tommy gets to say it all the time.” 

     “And he’s older.” Phil let out a chuckle at Wilbur's response watching you slump forward with a loud groan of absolute torment. 

You didn’t sleepwalk again until a few months later, everyone had relatively assumed it was a one-off occurrence and their watchful eye was lifted. In the meantime Tommy had started to maybe sort of sneak out; he had his bag all packed and planned to meet Tubbo in the park. They both wanted to go monster hunting on their own, it wasn’t their first rodeo but it still wasn’t something he was supposed to do without his dad's permission.

Tommy didn’t give a shit about permission though. 

Obviously. 

He grabbed his sword from its place in the living room, Tommy held it up with a wicked smile. It shone in the dim light and he could see the reflection of his face inside it, it must’ve been freshly polished. Tommy put his sword in its holster and turned around, immediately letting out a startled yelp slapping his hands over his mouth. You were standing behind him eyes glassy as you blinked blearily at him, 

     “(Y/n)?” Tommy whisper hissed glaring at you harshly, “What the fuck are you doing awake?” You didn’t respond, only walking past him reaching for a sword of your own, his eyes widened frantically and steered you away from the sharp weaponry. “Are you sleepwalking?” Tommy asked in mild concern before a smirk came across his face, “Guess I don’t have to worry about you snitching huh?” He slowly led you into Phil’s room opening the door and shoving you in before shutting the door. Tommy made quick work of grabbing everything else needed before heading out of the house to meet up with Tubbo. 

Phil woke up to you standing over him, looming, and it almost sent him into a heart attack. He knew immediately you were sleepwalking, “Oh honey...come ‘ere.” He pulled you into bed with him and watched your eyes drift close and snuggle up to him. At least you were safe with him, so long as you didn’t start unlocking doors and injuring yourself they could handle this. 

After telling the other brothers about the incident last night Wilbur was only growing more concerned about your sleep state. He offered to take you to the doctor but Phil brushed him off, saying that normally this thing sorts themself out on their own. Since he was feeling rather protective Wilbur slept in the living room the next few nights just to make sure you didn’t go wandering off. Plus, Phil seemed to not only approve of but also grateful for the idea; so long as the old man could get much-needed rest he didn’t seem to care. Another week flew by with no problems, and he decided to spend one last night in the living room just to triple-check you weren’t going to sleepwalk. 

He woke up to the sound of a hooting owl and soft banging against the wall, he tossed his hand over the back of the couch and he blinked blearily. Unlike his twin, he didn’t exactly have the razor-sharp reflexes that Technoblade was gifted with. Wilbur grabbed his glasses from the coffee table and shoved them on his face haphazardly. 

What was that noise? Did Tommy sneak out again? He turned towards the opened door and it took a few moments to process why the door was open. Wilbur scratched the top of his head in confusion before his eyes snapped open in blatant realization. He tossed the blankets off the couch and scrambled out the door. Bare footprints were made in the mud leading away from your house, tiny you sized footprints. 

Oh, he was so fucked. How long ago did you leave? Are you alright? It’s so cold and you weren’t wearing shoes.

Wilbur made sure to grab both of your jackets and shoved his feet in his boots before heading out the door. He saw his breath out in front of him and winced you must be so cold, hopefully, you weren’t dead if you were he was totally in big trouble. He followed your footprints until they stopped at the edge of the woods, he looked around frantically and anxiety prickled at his skin. If the trail went cold here there was no way he would be able to find you, what if you woke up in a completely different part of the SMP. Or worse yet what if someone kidnaps you and takes you away from them? 

He entered the woods calling out your name desperately even though you wouldn’t respond if you were still asleep. Wilbur adjusted his glasses noticing a soft trail of broken leaves, he decided it was his best bet to follow them. Eventually, he came to a bit of a clearing in the woods that led up to a large cliff, Wilbur’s heart sunk. He felt his breathing stop as he walked towards the edge of the cliff, slowly like he didn’t want to know if he thinks what happened to you, happened to you. At the very top of the cliff is when he saw it, the bracelet you always wore on your wrist it was made of gold and Technoblade had gifted it to you after an adventure he had with Phil. He pulled the jewelry close to his chest and let out a shaky breath, tears swelled in his eyes as he peeked over the edge of the cliff. The poor boy couldn’t even see the bottom, Phil would have to fly down and search it, he was going to throw up. 

     “Wilby…?” 

Oh god, he could still hear your sweet, little voice. 

     “What are you doing? Are you crying?”

Wait, that was your voice!

He whipped around to find you rubbing your tired eyes, your feet were bare and you were shivering. Wilbur tore through the bush and scooped you up in his arms, cuddling you close to him as he peppered kisses all over your face. “Ewww Wilby stop!” You said through giggles pushing his face away from your own, 

     “I’m so glad you’re alright. You were sleepwalking again, I thought…” His voice cracked a little as you tilted your head. You looked around his shoulder and eyed the cliff wearily, you nuzzled against his neck and squeezed him tightly. 

     “I’m sorry…” 

     “It’s not your fault.” He whispered against you, “let's get you home though alright? Want to have a sleepover with me?”

     “Please. I’m scared I’ll wander off if I sleep alone again.” Wilbur nodded, running his fingers through your messy hair. For a girl your age, it was important to make sure you get a good night's sleep. As he carried you back home you ended up falling back asleep in his arms, he had a lot of time to think. He couldn’t believe that a few years ago he had despised the girl in his arms, thought of you as just another stowaway Phil brought home. You had managed to melt his heart and worm your way into not just his brain but his other brother’s brains as well. You had brought so much joy and happiness into their lives. Before you entered their lives there was arguing every night. Tommy and Techno were always at each other’s throats, Wilbur wasn’t any better, to be honest, but then you were there and everything changed. They had to get along and watch their language around you, you weirdly brought them together. Made them better and he couldn’t imagine what their lives would be like without their little hope.

[bruhstories]

Dazed and Confused

Summary: You and Connie have been friends for ten years, crushing on each other like a bunch of idiots who can't confess their feelings for one another. Until you go on a trip with your friends. Pairing: Connie Springer x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: 18+, language, oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected sex, weed smoking, alcohol consumption, f l u f f Word Count: 4.2 k

A/N: I got so pissed at that last anon that I finished this oneshot quicker lol. @fiaficsxo here it is!

You loved parties. Not the loud music and thick smoke, not the booze and smell of vomit, but your friends. Every time they gathered at someone's place, your heart fluttered, filled with happiness and content and long-lasting memories.

Connie had the brilliant idea of spending a week in the mountains during your spring break, and you wasted an entire night searching for the perfect cottage to rent. Luckily everyone was down with his suggestion, the only problem was how you'd sleep. Historia obviously wanted to share a room with Ymir. Mikasa and Eren were an item now, so they'd have to sleep together. Armin wanted to try his luck with Annie, so no one objected to that. Jean declared that he wanted to bunk with Connie, like the two eligible bachelors they were, and that left you and Sasha to share a room together. You didn't mind it, in all honesty you loved Sasha with all your heart — but you secretly hoped someone would pick up on your feelings for Connie and let you sleep with him. You weren't that lucky.

You packed your bag the night before the trip, obsessively ticking everything on your list and double checking every item and pocket. It was ready, with one item missing — the white lace babydoll smoothed on your dorm bed. You chewed the pen cap, debating whether to bring it with you or not. You bought it for special occasions, but you haven't had a dick appointment in a long time, and you doubted you'd have one this week. With a shrug, you decided to bring it — you never know what might happen. Nighttime passed quickly and you soon found yourself all dolled up, albeit still sleepy from all the tossing and turning, excited to make more memories with your friends.

The train station was packed with people, especially students who went back to their hometowns for the break, and you were relieved to find Armin and Mikasa there. You three were always punctual, followed by Jean and Annie. Eren, Sasha and Connie were always late, which is why you told them the train leaves at 7 am instead of 7:30. It was a dirty strategy, but no one wanted to miss such a fun opportunity because of those lazy fuckers. And lo and behold, they decided to appear at 7:15.

"That was some good thinking." Jean shook his head, hand sympathetically placed on your shoulder.

"I'm only glad you guys rolled with it." You laughed without noticing the way Connie stared at you, and even he didn't understand exactly what he felt. Was he grumpy because he hated morning, or was it Jean's hand on you that irked him?

"It's not polite to stare." Sasha pulled Connie out of his thoughts.

"I wasn't staring, I was looking." Connie rolled his eyes, gripping the handle of his suitcase a bit too tightly.

"I just don't get it why you don't tell her you like her." The girl popped a bubblegum baloon, proceeding to chew it very loudly.

"Are you kidding me? She obviously likes Jean. Look how she's laughing!"

Sasha placed an arm on his shoulder, a sheepish smile on her face. "You, my friend, are a dumbass."

"Takes one to know one."

To say that your friends were loud during the train ride was an understatement. They didn't really care about the nasty glares other passengers shot at them, opting to talk, sing, eat and practically embarrass themselves. But two hours later you arrived, and the fresh, crisp air of the mountains was a blessing. You didn't regret coming, all of you deserved a break after all the exams, studying and all-nighters you guys pulled.

"We could visit the military museum!" Armin suggested, but Connie scrunched his nose.

"We came here to get high, drink and spend time together, why the fuck would we visit some old ass building?"

"I'd like to go to the museum." You awkwardly smiled, earning a 'see?' from the blond. Mikasa, Eren and Annie backed you up, and since it was a democracy, you ended up leaving your bags at the cottage and touring the small town to find the military museum. The building wasn't massive, and inside it was dark, with crimson carpets and dim lights. It was actually quite a romantic atmosphere, had it not been for the weapons and armours displayed in glass cases. Connie watched you intently, taking in every movement, every flinch, every hair tucking, every scrunch of your cute nose. You absorbed the information, hungry for knowledge. This was something you and Connie didn't share — yes, you were down to drinking and smoking, but you were also eager to learn and study, while he always preached how 'you can always retake an exam but you can't relive a party.' He wasn't stupid by any means, but unlike you, Jean, Armin and Mikasa — who alwaysstudied and never skipped lectures — Connie would wing it and somehow end up getting better grades. His strategy didn't always work, and sometimes, when you were in college, he'd ask you to tutor him. Now you were second year undergraduates, and while you were studying different subjects, you still made time for each other.

"That's a nice, uhh..." Connie squinted, "...shotgun."

"It's a musket." You chuckled, your fingers accidentally brushing his as you turned around to face him.

"Shotgun, musket, same thing."

"Actually, muskets are muzzle-loaded and fire a single bullet, but shotguns pack multiple pellets in one shell." You explained. "I'm sorry, you're probably not interested in my ramblings."

"No, no, it's... interesting. I just wasn't expecting you to know so much about guns." He rubbed his nape and smiled at you.

"Well, I do study history, in case you forgot."

"How could I forget that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You awkwardly elbowed Connie. Why was it so hard for you to just tell him your feelings? Oh, right, because you've been friends for ten years and if he didn't like you back, it would only ruin a great friendship.

"It means you brag about it so much it's kind of hard to forget." He told you, quickly realising just how insulting that sounded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that's how you felt..." You sighed, eyes darting back to the weapons.

"No, I didn't- forget it." Connie shook his head. Well played.

Back at the cottage, with enough food and booze to last the group a month, you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the day. It wasn't the first time you had embarrassing moments with Connie, but this particular one made you anxious to be around him. Did he really dislike you that much, or was it just friendly banter? If you were to ask him, you could find out, but every scenario in your head had a bad outcome, so avoiding him for now was the smartest choice. Sasha pleaded with you to spend the evening in the living room with everyone else, but you brushed her off, telling her you weren't feeling quite well.

"Text me if you need anything." She told you before leaving. It was immature to act this way, you knew that all too well, but it wasn't like Connie cared, right? You eventually decided to go downstairs after finishing a long episode of your favourite tv show, your stomach begging for nourishment. As silently as possible, you tiptoed behind the couch. The hallway was dim, the sun had already set, and the only lights were the ones from the wide TV screen in the living room where your friends were watching some corny horror movie. You could cut the suspense and tension with a knife, and when you dropped a teaspoon, everyone jumped.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just me!"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jean got up from the floor and walked behind the couch. "How are you feeling? Sasha said you're ill."

"I'm fine, don't worry." You picked the spoon up and threw it in the sink. "It's just a headache, I'll sleep it off."

"Good, we need you here." The man wrapped an arm around you. "You're missing how Connie's crapping his pants at this shitty movie."

From the outside it would seem like you and Jean were a couple, but the truth was far from it. You two grew up together, his family was friends with your family, and what you had was nothing more than a brother-sister relationship. Jean's little remark earned a disgruntled look from Connie, you quickly picked up on that, and so you playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

"Connie's crapping his pants? You're the one who almost had a heart attack." You grinned.

"Oi, that was only because you dropped your stupid spoon. I was invested in the movie."

"Mhm, sure you were."

"Hey, you sure you don't want to join us?" Mikasa waved at you from the living room. You pondered over her question. Perhaps it wouldn't be too awkward to sit with them.

"Alright, sure, why not?"

"Come, sit next to me." Sasha shuffled to the side, but what she really meant by that was 'sit next to Connie', because she shuffled to the otherside.

The following two nights were surprisingly quiet, all you did was play board games, watch movies and walk around the town taking pictures. The tension between Connie and you seemed to dissipate, and you both forgot the unpleasant interaction you had on the first day. But on the fourth night, that's when shit hit the fan. Annie and Armin left for a date, and Eren and Mikasa wanted to spend the night alone in their room, leaving you, Sasha, Jean and Connie unsupervised, bored and tipsy. There was absolutely nothing good to watch on the TV, and you almost wanted to scream when your friends wanted to play truth or dare. It was one of those games you despised, because the whole point of it was to put the players in uncomfortable situations. And you didn't like being uncomfortable, unlike your friends.

"Jean, truth or dare?" Sasha beamed.

"Dare, duh."

"Alright, I dare you to switch roommates for the rest of the week." She sipped her blackberry cider.

"Okay? So, I'll stay with Y/N, then."

Good lord, if looks could kill, Connie's would annihilate Jean and Sasha off the face of the Earth.

"No, no, you'll stay with me. Y/N will stay with Connie."

"Eh? Why does your dare involve us?" You asked, confused and curious of your friend's proposal.

"Because." She shrugged. "Don't pussy out."

"I'm not pussying out. A dare's a dare." Jean scoffed. "I'm gonna go take my shit in your room and shower."

"Y-yeah, I'll go bring mine, too." You got up, using this time to hyperventilate alone. What the fuck was Sasha even thinking? Was this some stupid joke? But your friends wouldn't harm you, so why would she suggest such a stupid thing?

You took a quick shower before curling up in the bed, blankets covering you from neck to toe. Connie wasn't back yet, and you didn't want to go after him, that would just be odd. You were hoping you'd fall asleep before he returned, to avoid any unnecessary fuss, but just as you closed your eyes, the door opened. Maybe you could pretend you were asleep? He struggled to find his pyjamas in the dark, stumbling over furniture and knocking things down, and you turned the bedside lamp on to ease his search.

"Did I wake you up?" Connie bit his lower lip, and through the dim light you watched the way his grey eyes glistened, the way his short brown hair was ruffled, and how the sage green t-shirt hugged his toned abdomen.

"No, no, 's alright. I wasn't sleeping. I can't exactly fall asleep." You clutched the blanket at your chest as you shook the intrusive thoughts away. Connie was your friend, damn it, there was no room for romance between you.

"I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"Oh, God, no, it's... stiff."

"Um, yeah, it kinda is. Alright then, I'll jump in the shower real quick before going to bed." He stumbled into the bathroom and you really wanted to fall asleep now.

But you couldn't. Every time you closed your eyes, Connie's face popped in your head. So much for resting. You tossed and turned on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing helped. It didn't take long for him to finish his shower, and you mentally chastised yourself for not falling asleep when you felt him shuffle under the same blanket that was covering you. For a minute, you didn't utter a word, you barely breathed, afraid to disturb the silence in the room.

"Are you asleep?"

"Nope." You heard the click of Connie's phone and turned around. You couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"Do you wanna talk about something? Until we fall asleep, I mean." You suggested.

"Hmm, sure." He turned on his side and you felt his breath fanning over your cheeks. You were too close to him. "Actually, d'you wanna smoke?"

"Aren't the others gonna be mad if we smoke without them?"

"They don't have to know. Besides, you and I never smoked together." Connie was already up, rummaging through his backpack with the flashlight of his phone. "And then we can talk as much as you want."

"Alright, I'm down."

You laid on the floor, your head next to Connie's as you looked at the ceiling, smoke leaving your lips. He took the joint from you, fingers touching yours and you blushed, the haze of the weed melting your worries away.

"Do you want me to skip the song?" Connie asked, and for a moment you forgot there was a song playing.

"No, I like it." You confessed. "I didn't know you liked Led Zeppelin."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Y/N." He passed you the joint.

"Okay, tell me something else I don't know."

"I like it when you randomly say historical or scientific facts."

"Didn't you say I brag too much about it?" You took one final drag before you stubbed the joint out in a makeshift ashtray filled with a bit of water. By this point you were high as a kite, every trace of rationality gone.

"That doesn't mean I don't like it." Connie smiled and you could feel it in his voice. "Now you tell me something I don't know about you."

"I can't sleep with open doors. It freaks me out." You sat up, a breeze blowing through the window sending shivers down your spine. "It's a bit cold, do you mind if I close the window?"

"Go ahead."

You got up and picked the ashtray up but before you could close the window, you stumbled over a chest of drawers, the ashes mixed with water spilling over your t-shirt.

"You okay?" He quickly crawled to you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm just clumsy." You laughed it off and waved your free hand. "I'll go get changed, I should have a spare shirt."

But you didn't have a spare shirt. All you had was that stupid white babydoll, and anxiety seeped through your veins. You couldn't exactly show up in that in front of your crush. And you didn't want to ask him for a shirt either. Fuck it, what else could you do?

You peeked out the bathroom door and saw Connie back in bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. God, this was embarrassing.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed, but when your facial expression didn't change, he frowned. "Y/N?"

"Um, so, I didn't have a spare shirt and- Jesus, this is awkward." You opened the door and his eyes widened. "Is it alright if I sleep in this?"

"Oh, I get it now." Connie scoffed.

"Get what?"

"You were hoping you'd share a room with Jean, right?" He sounded almost disgusted.

"Excuse you? Where did you even get that idea?" You slammed the bathroom door shut, arms folded across your chest.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I've seen the way you two act. Do yourselves a favour and just fuck already."

You were speechless. Completely reactionless. The weed amplified your anger, but his words brought tears to your eyes.

"You... you fucking asshole! You think I brought this for Jean? I brought it for you!"

"Eh? M-me?" Connie was confused, and you were pissed.

"Yes, you. Jean's like a brother to me, oh my God! Ew!"

"Wait, so you and Jean are not in love with each other?"

"In love?? Connie, how high are you exactly?" You walked closer to the bed, arms still crossed.

"But- Fuck, I am stupid." He shook his head, the memories of you flirting with him flashing before his eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"A bit..." Your muscles relaxed and you sat on the mattress. "Really, Connie, I... I like you. A lot. But you're always giving me mixed signals."

"That's because I always thought you liked Jean!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"No, you're the only one."

"Huh, guess I've really been dazed and confused."

Calloused fingertips ran across your hips leaving goosebumps in their trail. Your hands roamed his back and the way Connie kissed you was better than any high you've ever experienced. He was touch-starved, and you were just as needy. His knee found its place between your thighs and you moaned when it barely brushed your cunt.

"I've been dreaming for this moment for as long as I can remember." Connie breathed into your neck, the hot breath tickling your skin.

"Me too, you blind bat." You laughed and he turned you over, hovering over you.

"'M sorry I didn't notice quicker." He kissed you again. One hand travelled lower, pushing your underwear to the side before he pushed two fingers between your folds. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Well, at least now I don't have to finger myself thinking about you." You whimpered with a grin.

"Oh?" Connie arched a brow. "Is that what you've been doing?" He curled up his fingers and you threw your head back with a moan. "I thought you were a prude."

"T-there's lots of things you d-don't know about m-me!" You replied back between oh’sand ah’s, imitating his words from an hour ago. That only earned a sneer from Connie, his head dipping between your thighs. "Wait, what are you do- ooh fuck!"

His tongue lapped at your cunt, fingers pumping in and out of you, and you completely sunk into the mattress, moaning his name over and over again. You gripped the sheets, flexing the muscles in your legs as you squirmed and thrashed. Connie stopped and you almost crushed his skull with your thighs at the empty feeling. He pulled your underwear down and shoved the cotton panties in your mouth.

"Don't wake everyone up, Y/N. You don't want them knowing what a little slut you are, do you?"

You shook your head and Connie went back to circling your clit with his tongue, adrenaline rushing through your entire body with each lick, each suck. Tears of pleasure pooled at your eyes, nose and cheeks red from the thrill of your incoming orgasm. The way he was sloppily eating your pussy and moaning while doing it drove you insane, and within seconds you came undone, thighs trembling with delight. In fact, you were so sore you had to push his head back, begging him to stop so you could return the favour.

"You taste so sweet." Connie licked his lips. You don't know what possessed you to pull him into a kiss after you removed the makeshift gag, but he was right, you were sweet.

"Can I...?" Your eyes drifted down to his twitching cock, your voice soft and quiet.

"You wanna suck it?"

"Yes."

"Later. Right now, I wanna fuck you."

Connie gave you no time to protest, his elbow pushed one of your things to the side, the blushing tip of his cock grazing over your overstimulated clit, up and down your slit. Inch by inch it disappeared into your cunt and he let out a satisfied sigh. You bucked your hips, manicured nails digging into his shoulders with each thrust.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight!" Connie growled, head lowering to kiss you. You could still taste yourself on his lips and that only made you clench your spongy walls around his cock. That seemed to please him, because he rocked his hips harder and faster. "You like it?"

"Oh, God, yes!" You gasped, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you clawed his back.

"Fuck, I want you to ride me." He gripped your hips tighter and turned you over. You tried your best to get in the new position without letting his cock slip out of you, and when you finally adjusted yourself, it was a whole new challenge. Gravity pulled you down, and his tip brushed your cervix, your eyes squinting at the slight pain. "If it hurts, stop-"

"No!" You cried out, your hands resting on his chest. You bounced up and down, the uncomfortable feeling slowly replaced with pleasure. Connie's hands traced your thighs as you rode him, another wave of heat flushing through your core. His palm met your cunt, thumb circling over your clit. "I can't c-come again!"

"Yes, you can. And you will cream on my cock."

The disgust words worked like magic and you flexed your thighs, bouncing faster, head thrown back, hair cascading down your back. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

"Connie, I-" The words stopped in your throat, the pressure too much for you to handle.

"You what?"

"I'm- oh, God!"

"Atta girl!" He praised you when he felt your silken walls relaxing and your thighs quaking. The second orgasm was so intense you let yourself fall over his chest, dizzy and tired. You thought he'd give you a break, but Connie wrapped an arm around your back, holding you in place before giving your oversensitive cunt a few more thrusts. "Now you can return the favour."

You mustered up some strength to get up and kneel in front of the bed, between his legs.

"Please don't come in my mouth." You asked him before wrapping your pretty lips around his cock.

"Gotchaah-" Connie choked on his words when he felt himself in your hot mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and eyes on him. You didn't break eye contact when you pulled away and spat on the tip, hand pumping his cock to smear the spit. "Hot." He mumbled before you went back to sucking. You felt the throbbing, tightening your lips around him and picking up the pace. "Y/N-"

It all happened in a flash — Connie yanked your hair and pulled your head back, thick ropes of milky white cum shooting all over your face and neck.

"Eew!" You scrunched your nose, hand under your chin to stop it from dripping down the floor.

"What do you mean ew? That's, like, a billion kids!"

"Actually, a fertile man produces around-"

"Don't start. Do not." He pressed his index finger over your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You woke up sore, especially between your thighs, but damn, was it worth it. Connie wrapped an arm around your waist, mumbling something about how pretty you are, but you assumed he was still sleeping — or still high. The sun shone through the blinds and you squinted, annoyed by the brightness, and so you turned around, watching the way your crush snored peacefully.

"Cute." You smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead, waking him up. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Connie rubbed his eyes. "Waking up to you is a blessing."

You couldn't hide the tinting of your cheeks and the grin on your lips. "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

"There's lots of things-"

"I don't know about you. But I'd like to know those things. If you let me, of course." You bit your lower lip, eyes filled with hope.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He sat up, his eyes serious.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Okay, so maybe Sasha knew a thing or two when she dared Jean to switch roommates.

You walked into the kitchen after getting ready for the day, with Connie following behind you. Everyone was eating their breakfast, and Jean instantly dashed to you.

"Connie, bro, take me back. Sasha's leaving crumbs all over the bed! I can't sleep like that!"

"I can't, man, I wanna spend the rest of the week with my girlfriend." He sneered and you elbowed him.

"I forgot to mention Jean's overprotecti-"

"Your what? Hands off my sister from another mister, you creep!"

"Creep? You're the one who was sexting someone's sister last night." Sasha chimed in, mouth full of cereal.

"Thanks, Sash." Jean rolled his eyes. "For real, how did this happen?"

"You see, mate, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"Nope. I will not hear this."

[mythiccheroacademia]

The whole time traveling children has me feelin some type of way tbh. Imagine Mirio, Kaminari, and Tamaki walking into their respective rooms and there are just small children vibing. Mirio with his daughter, Kaminari with a daughter and Tamaki with a son. 😭

as i said, parent!bnha is SUPERIOR

A/N: So, instead of making these separate asks, I’m just going to make it one giant post. I thought it would be easier that way. Probably the only post that’ll have more than three characters lol

Warnings: none

Kaminari Denki:

when kaminari walked into his room, he didn't expect to see two children on his bed fighting like wild animals

the younger girl was totally beating the boy’s ass tho

kinda embarrassing bc she’s gotta be like, seven, at most

as if it’s not the weirdest thing he’s seen (bc it’s not) he rushes in to break them apart

he manages to separate them with his arms 

the boy with yellow hair snaps his jaws at his sister’s fingers

“hey! bad! no biting!” he scolds

the little girl blows a raspberry and taunts “yeah! papa says no biting!”

the older sibling just rolls his eyes “rat”

meanwhile, denki is literally malfunctioning

papa?

PAPA? HUH???

the only person’s pants (and heart) he’s been trying to get in to for the past three months was y/n’s and he sure as hell would remember if he did

he didn't have kids

especially one that was his age

“sorry! you two are cute, but i’m not your pops”

thus, they begin to tell denki about how they mayhaps followed him and their mother into a dangerous mission and got hit with a time travel quirk

denki just nods his head

tbh, he’s not that weirded out

weirder things have happened

but, he does have one question

“who’s the lucky woman?”

coincidentally, you bust into his dorm room, wet from a recent prank and head steaming with anger

“Kaminari Denki!”

his son juts a thumb over to you

“the woman that’s about to murder you”

“oh say less”

his life literally couldn't get any better

before you get the chance to throttle him, the little girl jumps in your arms and your anger is immediately quelled 

“hey mommy! i just wanna let you know that it was [son’s name]’s fault that we followed you when you told us not to”

“WHAT!?”

you’re to busy trying to get them from killing each other to comprehend anything that’s going on

kaminari is in a love-struck gaze bc hot damn, he won the jackpot, huh?

if he wasn't in love with you before, he’s in love with you now

you and your feral children

it was nice being God’s favorite

Kirishima Eijirou: 

funny thing was

kirishima woke up from his afternoon nap with his mini-me in his arms!

at first, he was really confused as to why there was an 8 yr old boy with spiky teeth and (your hair texture) black hair on his bed

he thought he was dreaming

then the little boy bit his nose and grinned like he had done the funniest thing in the world 

“WAKE UP DADDY! WE GOTTA GET SWOL TODAY”

did he get hit with some duplication quirk?

and what was that he said...daddy?

as in, father?

kirishima is wide awake now, but before he can ask the kid what’s going on, the boy is up and making use of his punching bag

he decides it wouldn't hurt to get a morning work out in, so he decides to humor the kid

after a mini workout, kirishima is in near tears as the boy tries to flex the little muscles he has 

eventually, he gets the kid to tell him what happened and finds out he was hit with a time travel quirk of some sort

instead of being weirded out, kirishima is ESCTATIC 

he has a family in the future 

he’s so excited and proud that he just has to show his son off to his friends!

the first thing he does is go and bother bakusquad in the common room

he’s bragging like shit to them and his ego swells as they all swoon over how cute and handsome the kid is 

you and bakugo come out of the kitchen to see what all the commotion is about and the little boy excitedly runs to you and jumps into your arms 

“momma! you’re here! you’re so pretty! why’d you marry daddy when he looks so unswol?”

it’s silent before bakugo fucking dies of laughter 

“y-you finally let shitty hair hit it? and got knocked up?? LMAO”

everyone’s dying and kirishima wants to die

he can’t believe this was how his long-term crush on you was getting outted

by an 8 yr old boy

so not manly

you look confused before you put the pieces together

the kid did look like you and kirishima

you want to console kirishima about the crush that you lowkey knew he had on you, but your son was one step ahead of you

with a gracious smile, he hits bakugo’s head

hard

“what the fuck kid!?”

“don’t make fun of daddy, uncle bakugo! at least daddy didn’t faint at his wedding″

Bakugo’s contemplating murder and everyone’s rolling on the floor

“WE BEEN KNEW YOU WERE THE BIGGEST SIMP”

even ten years later, bakugo still holds a grudge against your son

Togata Mirio:

i’m about to kill y’all w this one

since year one, mirio has been feigning over you 

but 1) you were too dumb to notice 2) you both were really busy with, y’know, school and 3) he lowkey gave up bc he thought you deserved better

so imagine his surprise when he sees this four year old girl on his bed

and she looks like you with his features

mirio might not be the brightest crayon in the crayon box

but he’s got eyes

and it wasn't like he’s memorized your features to the T

the tiny girl is swinging her legs absent-mindedly before exploding with happiness when he sees him

she runs to mirio and he catches her with open arms 

“daddy! daddy! i got hit with the coolest quirk at school today!”

proceeds to tell him about her best friend discovered her quirk and it was a teleportation quirk 

mirio can’t help but giggle along with her even tho he knew it was a scary situation for the parents

speaking of which...

he innocently asks her who’s the mom

“mommy is the prettiest mommy in the world! she has e/c eyes, hair like me, and the most beautiful s/c skin! her name is togata y/n!”

if he wasn't geeking before, he’s geeking now

not only did he manage to marry you, but you let him be your baby daddy?

him?

big bet

mirio doesn't even care at this point

he’s parading around UA with the fattest smile as he introduces his daughter to damn near everyone 

everyone’s freaking out bc wtf when did mirio get someone pregnant??

maybe he should've explained himself, but he sees you at your locker and makes a b-line for you

“good morning, y/n!”

he doesn't notice that you slam your locker close and hide the confession letter you wrote to him behind your back

you’re a stuttering mess and he’s too busy basking in the fact that he’s holding y’alls child 

y’all look like a mess

but he’s ready to lay it on thick when the little girl kisses your nose and cheers,

“mommy, i missed you”

he explains the situation 

you cant help but smile, “you know this could potentially ruin the timeline?”

and you feel like melting as he gives you the softest smile 

“there’s no way I’m letting that happen. not when i end up with the woman i’m in love with. we’ll just have to twist fate together”

and twist it you did

Tamaki Amajiki:

tamaki wasn't the bravest person ever 

and he knew his crippling anxiety got in the way of a lot

but he had never been more proud of himself for managing to invite you to his room

it was supposed to be a study date

despite how bold you normally were, he took comfort in how nervous you seemed 

now, you two were leaning in, about to kiss

and then a voice from behind interrupts 

“uh, am i interrupting something?”

you two let out the ugliest squeal and jump 50 feet away from each other 

you’re all over the place, trying to explain the situation

tamaki’s heart is barely beating at this point

it takes the kid, who looks about 16, about thirty minutes to calm you down and revive tamaki

explains that he’s from the future and a descendant of tamaki’s family

decides to leave out that you two are his parents so he doesn't risk possibly erasing himself from the space continuum 

that would be bad

despite how surprised you two were, you two take it rather well 

you three spend the day together bc you and tamaki feel this weird sense of responsibility for the guy even though he’s only two years younger

the boy is trying his hardest not to expose himself, but it’s so hard

you two are asking him everything from his favorite food to if he has any siblings

he’s good at pretending that he’s cool, calm, and collected, but he wants nothing more than to jump into his parents’ arms and cry about how scared he is of messing up

but he won’t 

bc he’s a strong boy

but he slips up

“how far are you down the future?” tamaki asks

“uh, about like 100 years or so--”

“you’re lying”

the kid nearly chokes on his food as his father blinks at him

you try and scold tamaki but he continues

“i don’t mean to be mean, but your nose twitches when you lie. y/n does the same thing”

that’s when the jazz record stops and everyone is staring at one another

“....wait”

this time, you nearly pass out

y’all had a kid together???

THE HELL??

the boy, coincidentally, starts fading and he thinks he fucked up

now he’s full out sobbing into the both of your chests, scared that he’s disappearing

despite the news, you and tamaki calm down, look at each other, and hold your son

“don’t you worry, baby” you coo, kissing his fading hair

“i have a feeling we’ll see you quite soon” tamaki comforts, closing his eyes

Bakugo Katsuki:

bakugo finally understood when his mom said

“the meaner you are to your parents, the nastier your kids will be to you”

he regretted being such a demon bc his kid was literally the spawn of satan

katsuki didn’t need an explanation to know that that...thing was his kid

he looked damn near identical to him with features that he couldn't quite place

but anyways, that wasn't the focus rn

rn, he was trying to figure out a way to keep that animal caged

as soon as katsuki took his eyes off him, the six yr old ran out the door as fast as his little legs could carry him

“catch me if you can, you old bastard!”

yup, it was his kid

“GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE FUCKER”

his son is blasting his way through the halls, skillfully evading Katsuki’s grabbing hands 

he’s wildly laughing as he flips and turns through the doors, watching with glee as his father falls on his face

multiple times

the small boy latches on to a cupboard and smirks

“no wonder mom always beats your ass! you weak!”

katsuki nearly looks like the devil, eyes white, and face red with fury

his pride suffering by the second

he’s about to cuss the kids to hell when you come out of the kitchen, confused

you were about to ask why katsuki looked like a rat with rabies before you caught sight of a basket of fruit teetering on the edge of the cabinet, above the little boy’s head

“look out--”

the basket falls on the kid’s head and he’s on the floor, reeling from the hit

katsuki would've normally laughed his ass off, but he felt kind of...concerned?

he watches you run towards the child who’s trying his hardest not to cry

the boy holds his head, fat tears in his eyes as you pick him up and coddle over him 

“i’m sorry, baby. I'm sorry i didnt get there in time” 

cue the waterworks 

the boy is full-on sobbing into your chest about how his head hurts

you bounce him and kiss his forehead as katsuki checks over the red bump 

“you’ll be okay, brat” he comforts, voice softer than usual

in that moment, katsuki can’t help but notice how much a family y’all look like rn

then the dots start connecting and he goes 

oh shit 

so, maybe, he’s had a tiny crush on you

and it didn’t help that you two were friends with benefits bc yall were horny teenagers

but who knew he’d get the balls to ask you out on a proper date one day

he was such a simp for you gosh it was ugly

“you have to be more careful from now on,”  you say to the boy 

the brat suddenly looks innocent and katsuki wants to throw him

“sorry, mommy. i’ll be gooder”

the look on your face is priceless 

bakugo uses it as a chance to kiss you 

“huh?”

“i guess now’s a good time to tell you that i want to be your dick on demand but with feelings and shit, dumbass”

[333sth]

dove. (frankie morales)

chapter ii. previous. series masterlist.

pairing: frankie morales x ofc (’dove’) no use of y/n

warnings: ptsd/military service, violence, injury detail, language, angsty.

summary: santi’s hunch is no longer a hunch, but only will knows how close they are to finding frankie’s girl. 

rating: mature wc: 1.8k 

When a strong hand had clamped around her shoulder, Dove’s instinct was to break it. It wasn’t menacing; they were just waiting at the bar to be served.

A burly, middle-aged man was towering beside her, clutching a beer bottle that looked miniature in his thick grasp. His arms, still holding the shadow of what was once impressive muscle, were littered with military tattoos. Dove could spot a stick-and-poke from a mile off.

“I recognise that,” He gestures to her neck, where a small Delta Force tattoo was usually disguised by her long hair. “You ex-forces? Delta?” 

She wanted to kick herself. The sticky atmosphere had gotten the better of her and she’d thrown her hair into a ponytail without thinking.

“Yeah, but that isn’t exactly public knowledge ‘round here.” She murmurs. 

Across the room, Roni throws her head back in exaggerated laughter. A group of men, who looked barely out of their teen years, had come over to make some desperate attempts at getting laid. Dove had excused herself to buy the next round after one of them had cracked a mortifying joke about liking older women.

“That’s understandable.” The man held out his hand, which she took hesitantly. “My name’s Mark, I just retired out here. Served for twenty three years.” He chuckled gruffly, his voice thick from cigarettes. “I got jack shit to show for it, mind you.”

“Tell me about it.” She laughs, but she doesn’t offer her name. 

Mark notices as the conversation lulls. “I trained with a guy who made Delta. Santiago Garcia - we called him Pope, ‘cause he just had that way about him. You probably knew him.”

Dove swallows, chest lurching. “Sounds familiar… You know how it is though, the nicknames all blur into one eventually.”

That’s a lie, you never forget your teammates’ names. Mark knows it and so does Dove. Thankfully, he doesn’t push a conversation she clearly doesn’t want to have, and raises his bottle to her.

“Well, it was nice to meet you anyway. Enjoy yourself out here.”

“You too, Mark.” She tries to smile, but her lips press into a thin line that probably looks more like a grimace.

*

Mark had called Santiago the following day, the alcohol-blurred memory peaking his interest once he remembered his old friend’s plea a few months back. He’d asked around for any heads-up if any ex-Delta women around their age popped up. Mark had thought the man was delusional when he’d heard. If she was Delta Force, she wouldn’t be found unless she wanted to be. 

Apparently, he was wrong. Maybe even the best of the best got rusty after a while.

The town Dove had been spotted in was questionable to Santiago. It was too cosmopolitan for a woman who was starting over. However, after a onceover on a map of Mexico, Santi spotted its smaller neighbour. He’d never heard of it, which meant it must be the place. Small population, right on the coast, with enough amenities and business to get by without any trouble.

“And, man, she had a wicked scar on her throat. Sort of shit you’d only see on a Delta.” Mark had added, with a chuckle. “I can’t imagine that ain’t your girl.”

‘Dove isn’t my girl,’ Santi wanted to bite back instinctually. He bit his tongue, and instead offered, “It sounds like her. I can’t thank you enough, brother.”

*

Santiago only told Will what he knew about Dove. He had the mind to retain that information no matter what this trip threw at them. Plus, he trusted him with his life, plus a couple other lives that came to mind. Call it insurance, if things went south.

Plus, Will didn’t have Tom’s mouth, or twisted morality. Tom was more than willing to accept that Dove would miss out on their prospective fortune, that the ‘hunch’ would have to wait until Lorea was dealt with. Santiago knew his brothers well enough to know Benny would throw a hissy fit if they knew where Dove was and she wasn’t included. She’d spent enough time stitching up their war-torn skin and shoving them out of bullets to deserve a cut.

So, Pope told a little white lie. They had a stop in Mexico to meet with a contact. 

Frankie had murmured, “Better be worth it, stuck in this shitty car with you fuckers for ten hours.” 

Santiago resisted the urge to agree. God, he hoped it would be worth it too. He hoped he wasn’t driving them into a dead end, a bluff on Mark’s part. Or even worse, invading Dove’s beautiful new life without them. That would destroy everything; Dove, the boys, Frankie. What if she had settled down? What if he pulled into that idyllic beach bar she wanted and she’s there, a baby with the same brilliant eyes balanced on her hip? She was never sure about kids. A vivid mental picture of the wrong diamond, glistening on her ring finger in the afternoon sun, and the wrong man pecking her lips, made Santi physically wince. 

Fish would never forgive him. Will and Benny would never forgive him. He’d never forgive himself. 

It was a long, apprehensive drive. Santi’s eyes were drying, squinting against the headlights that occasionally glared past them. His jaw had been clenched for the last few hours as his anxiety grew, nothing but open road to stare at while he contemplated over and over as to whether it was the right decision. It didn’t help that Frankie never really slept like the others did on the move. While the other boys passed out, Frankie’s soft eyes continued scanning the scene flying past the window. It was like he stayed awake to watch Pope’s back, as if they were still in combat, or as an unspoken act of kindness to keep him company. 

Really, Frankie was a terrible sleeper. Santi remembered that from the early days, before he and Dove gave it up and became an item. He was the last to drift off and first to wake up, always restless. Once Dove started tip-toeing over to his cot in the night, he became the worst snorer in the division. Always splayed on his front, one arm tossed over Dove’s waist and the other under his pillow. She’d kick him in the night so he’d roll over and shut up, but it never lasted long. 

One night, Benny had enough, and groaned to Dove, “Put us out of our fuckin’ misery and smother him with your pillow, for the love of God.”

Dove had snapped back, “Fuck off, Benny, just ‘cause you aren’t getting any of the action doesn’t mean you have to get all bitter.”

“I’ve told you guys - I’m more than willing to join in-”

“Ben.” Frankie grumbled into her shoulder. It was gruff with sleep but still menacing enough to make the hairs on Dove’s arms stand on end.

Before a pillow smacked into his head, Benny guffawed, “Oh, so he is alive after all.”

*

Wringing a soft rag for polishing glasses between her fingertips, Dove descends the wooden steps at the entrance of the bar. The last huddle of regulars holler behind her, wrapping up their weekend drinks as the evening creeps closer to the early hours; Dove always notices the time when moths start colliding with the lanterns.

Roni rises from a crouch on the ground, dropping a paintbrush into a can with a clatter. “See, your own little touch!” 

The wooden panels that constructed the side of the bar, usually concealed by a stack of cardboard beer boxes, is decorated with little doves. Despite studying criminology, mainly for the satisfaction of her parents, Roni loved painting and insisted on brightening the exterior of their beach shack.

Dove cracks a half-smile. “It’s lovely, Ron. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” She beams, throwing the half-empty cans into the nearby bins. She pauses, glancing hesitantly at the older woman over her shoulder,  “Dove’s not your real name, right?”

“No, no. Nickname from when I was nursing overseas.” Dove chuckles, before adding, “Feels more like my real name than my Christian one nowadays.”

Roni passes Dove on the steps as she returns to the bar, “It suits you. You’re always graceful, but… you’re fucking fast.”

Dove laughs with her, ignoring the familiar clench in her chest. It’s exactly what Frankie used to say. The difference is Roni notices when she almost drops a glass, or her tray of drinks starts to wobble, and Dove is there to catch it with such fluidity Roni never saw her coming. Even the way Dove’s knife slices through fruit like each piece is a slab of melted butter. Frankie witnessed the extreme of that, the stealth and grace that usually ensured the enemy was dead before the others had even thought to raise their guns. Still, he admired her the same way Roni was right now. It was like awe.

It’s probably because he loved her effortlessly, every single aspect of her being without a glimmer of doubt or judgement. And now he wasn’t here.

The group of regulars stumbling down the steps break Dove from her thoughts, chortling and wishing her goodnight. One of the older men turns and jerks his thumb towards the road, “You might wanna tell them you’re closing, bonita.”

Before the road becomes the sand, there is a small, dusty wasteland that doubles as a makeshift car park. A vehicle is parked, glaring headlights facing towards the ocean and forming peculiar, alien-like beams in the dark. She’s definitely getting rusty; she’d barely registered the idling truck.

“I’ll sort ‘em out, Miguel, don’t you worry.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” He jokes, waving to her. “Buenos noches, Dove.”

Military habits are practically impossible to shake, and immediately, Dove’s mind launches into overdrive. She raises her hand above her eyes, squinting against the blinding white LEDs in an attempt to make out a registration plate or even a recognisable model. Her mind is fine-tuned to memorise; most of the locals’ cars are already catalogued in her memory, but this isn’t one of them.

Maybe they’re tourists, ready to push their luck with the opening times. That’s the reasonable side of Dove’s mind. The irrational, dark edges whisper, ‘What if someone found you?’ By someone, it means someone bad. Someone she wronged during her service, an enemy or straggler that got away. Even a civilian that might have been caught in the crossfire. She thought about those ghosts often. Hell, some of them she could still name. When she can’t sleep, sometimes she lists them, pictures their faces if she can recall them, just in case they ever came back.

She inhales a sharp gust of ocean air through her nostrils, welcoming the clarity that spreads through her mind. Parting her lips (the lips Frankie always teased were in a permanent pout), she released the breath slowly, trying to relax the stressed scrunch in her features.

“Your face is gonna get stuck like that someday.”

The voice is familiar. A deep, breathy chuckle, barrel-toned and gravelly. It sounds like home.

taglist: @mishasminion360

[elliestormfound]

Demon Jaskier Demon Jaskier Demon Jaskier Dem-

Dear anon, thank you for your ask! I’m not sure if you just wanted to share your excitement about the thought of demon!Jaskier, but I accidentally wrote a fic  about it... :D

this is a bit sexier than my usual fics, but nothing too graphic, but definitely +18

CW: talk about sex and a bit of sexy kissing time in the end

read on ao3

---------

“Tell me your name,” Geralt demanded in a dangerously calm voice. 

The witcher could smell a whiff of burnt flesh from where his silver blade pressed against the delicate skin of the demon’s throat, hard enough to dent but not pierce it. He knew the true name of the demon could have power over them but he was under no illusion that the demon would offer it that easily. 

And the fucking demon had the audacity to smile at him.

Geralt increased the pressure of his sword tip slightly.

“Whoa, careful,” the demon said, “can’t answer your question if you cut my throat.”

But Geralt did not move, eyeing the demon closely. Two twisted horns protruded from tousled brown hair and uncannily intensive blue eyes looked back at him. The demon had some kind of otherworldly...beauty to him. But otherwise he looked almost human. 

“You can call me...” the demon began, looking away from the witcher, eyes searching the ground. A moment later he smiled back up at Geralt, “Jaskier.”

A single eyebrow raised, the witcher snorted, “buttercup?” With this sort of fake name Geralt would not be able to banish this cheeky bastard.

The demon - Jaskier - just grinned at him. Geralt nearly rolled his eyes, but he schooled his face back into a blank expression. 

“What do you want?” he asked through gritted teeth, remembering why he was here: not to chat with the demon about his choice of fake names but to find out what he had done to the village women and how to reverse it before sending him back to whatever hell dimension he had crawled out of. 

“What have you done to the women?”

Jaskier grinned lewdly and winked.

“You are sleeping with those women,” Geralt growled, no more confirmation needed, “did you also impregnate them?”

The witcher knew that some demons did that. Their offspring from human women could help anchor them to this realm, giving them easy access. 

“Imp...of course I’m not impregnating them,” Jaskier said indignantly, and as an afterthought adding a moment later, “I am not ready to be a father.”

Geralt growled, “don’t joke with me.”

“I’m not joking,” Jaskier said, holding up his hands, “the women didn’t summon me to impregnate them.”

“The women summoned you?” Geralt asked, unbelieving, searching Jaskier’s face for any signs of lying and finding none. But that didn’t mean much with a demon.

“Of course they summoned me,” Jaskier said, “why else would I be in this tiny village in the middle of nowhere?”

Good point, Geralt thought but didn’t say it out loud. 

Instead he asked, “why did they summon you?” 

The demon tried to laugh, but it quickly turned into coughing. “I’ll tell you, when you remove this from my throat,” he said, pointing at the sword, “talking like this is rather unpleasant.”

“You seem to talk just fine,” Geralt mumbled, but moved the blade a few centimeters away, still close enough to keep the demon in place, but not touching his skin anymore.

Jaskier exhaled and smiled at Geralt. 

Carefully rubbing his burned skin at the throat, he said, “thank you, my dear witcher.”

Geralt growled, “now tell me why the women summoned you.” He wanted to see where this was going. 

But of course did the demon not answer him directly. How he hated demons. 

“Do you know what kind of demon I am, witcher?” he asked in a velvety soft voice. 

Geralt looked him up and down.

“The alderman said you are a demon of adultery and that you make the women frigid.”

The demon laughed hollowly. “Yes, of course the old fucker said that,” Jaskier replied after a moment, sounding amused and pissed off at the same time.

“You can probably find me in the bestiary of yours,” he said, gesturing vaguely at Geralt, “under L: ‘demon of lust’.” 

Geralt just lifted a brow, “yes, I know about your funny little bestiaries,” Jaskier went on,” you aren’t the first witcher I’ve met.” His unearthly blue eyes sparkled and he winked at Geralt. The fucker actually winked at him.

“Come to the point,” he growled, silver sword still pointed at his throat.

Jaskier laughed again as if they were having a casual chat amongst friends and not an interrogation at swordpoint. And of course - the demon did not ‘come to the point’. The bastard really liked to hear himself talk.

“One of the women found a text with instructions how to summon me and she and a few of her friends made a nice little ritual and poof - here I was. They snatched me right out of a delightful little orgy in Novigrad...”

Geralt lifted his brows and tilted his head slightly.

“These lovely women, my dear witcher, summoned me,” Jaskier said, lifting his index finger in emphasis, “because their useless husbands do not satisfy them.”

Geralt huffed and asked with a smirk, “so that is what they wanted you to do? Satisfy them?”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, smiling, “they wanted me to fuck them silly, introduce them to the wonders of the orgasm. And that is what I did.” He had a dreamy look on his face, eyes glazed over as if he was thinking back to said fucking. 

After a moment he shook his head, focusing on Geralt again and continued, “I also showed them how to…” he wiggled his fingers, “pleasure themselves. I don’t plan to stay longer than strictly necessary and didn’t want to leave them….wanting.”

“So you fucked them and showed them how to...masturbate?” This was getting more and more ridiculous.

“Yes, most of these poor women never really touched themself,” Jaskier said, shaking his head, and with audible anger in his voice he continued, “this bastard of a priest told them that their hands would fall off if they touched their own body in that way, that only their husbands were allowed to touch them ’down there’.” The demon pointed towards his own crotch as he said the last two words. 

“The alderman - do you know what his wife told me?” the demon went on, head tilted and watching Geralt closely, “she told me that when her husband fucks her, it feels like he is just using her body to pleasure himself and that he is convinced that women are simply not able to get any pleasure from sex.” Jaskier shook his head.

“But don’t get me wrong,” he continued, “their husbands are not all bad. A bit more marital communication, actually listening to their wives and chasing away the dreadful priest and most of them can be happy in bed together…”

“And what did those women give you for...your services?” Geralt asked a moment later. 

The demon furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Demons usually demand payment from their… victims,” Geralt clarified. 

The demon put his hands on his hips and opened his mouth, blinking a few times before he said, “victims? They summoned me, if anyone is the victim here, it’s me!”

Geralt huffed and said, “did you get their souls? Ten years of their lives? Their firstborn?”

Jaskier shook his head. “Why would I want that? I got amazing sex and I got to show them how to satiate their own lust. There is nothing more to want.”

They both whipped their heads to the side as they heard hurried footsteps rushing through the forest towards them. A moment later they saw the figure of a woman and a moment after they heard her screaming, “stop, master witcher, don’t hurt him.”

Geralt still pointed the sword at Jaskier’s throat when the woman came to a halt next to them, breathing heavily. Three deep in- and exhales later she raised herself to her full height, looked Geralt firm in the eyes and said, “please don’t kill him, he did not hurt any of us.” The woman laid her hand on Jaskier’s shoulder who grinned at her.

“Hello, Kasia,” he said in his velvety voice and the woman smiled back brightly.

Geralt coughed to get their attention back. 

“Are you one of the women from the village?” he asked, pointing in the general direction of said village. 

“Yes!” she replied, still a bit out of breath, “I sneaked out of the house as I heard Lukas, my husband, talk to our neighbor about hiring a witcher to kill him.”

She tried to squeeze herself between Jaskier and the blade, but the demon carefully grabbed her arm to stop her. 

“Do you believe me now, witcher?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt shook his head, more to clear his thoughts and school his features back to an unreadable expression than to deny what Jaskier had asked. 

“He did not hurt you?” Geralt asked the woman, “did not do anything against your will?” 

“No,” Kasia said urgently, “he only did what we asked him to do and it was really...hmmm….nice,” she ended in a dreamy voice. 

Geralt watched Jaskier closely for another moment longer before he slowly lowered his sword and took a few steps back. Kasia exhaled loudly and hugged the demon. Jaskier patted her on the back and whispered something in her ear that made her giggle.

“Okay, I will head back before Lukas will notice I’m gone,” she said. With a bow to Geralt she made her way back towards the village. 

Geralt sheathed his sword and he and Jaskier stood silent for a while, eyeing each other.

Geralt was the first one to break the silence.

“Is that your true form?” he asked. A lot of demons were able to shapeshift and it would explain why the few men who had a glimpse of the demon had given him wildly contradictory descriptions.

“I can take many forms,” Jaskier said, stretching his arms wide, “I shape my appearance to the pleasure of my partner. I can be a man, a woman and anyone in between or outside of that…”

He was smiling softly at Geralt and continued, “for some of the women here it was quite unexpected to find out that they weren’t actually interested in men...And one woman wasn’t interested in sex at all. We had a lovely evening, drank a bottle of wine and played gwent.”

“So this is the form your last partner desired? This Kasia?” Geralt asked after a moment, still eyeing him closely. Now that he was standing a few steps away he had a better view of the demon. His pale cheeks were flushed a shade of pink that matched his plush lips. And he either had the darkest lashes Geralt had ever seen or he used kohl to highlight their unearthly blue color. His black shirt clung tightly to his broad shoulders, dark chest hair peeking out the loosely laced front and his high waisted trousers accentuating his slim waist.

“No, darling,” Jaskier said, licking his lips and taking a step towards him, “this form is all for you.” He was moving his hands up and down his body in a presentation. Geralt didn’t know why his heartbeat suddenly picked up and his hands got clammy. 

“You’ve got good taste, I must admit,” Jaskier said, slowly turning around and swinging his hips. 

“What…?” Geralt asked. He had a hard time keeping his pupils from dilating. As Jaskier turned Geralt could see that the high waisted trousers not only accentuated his waist but also his round…

“Are you enjoying what you see, witcher?” Jaskier purred.

Geralt coughed and blinked before regaining his composure. Jaskier just smirked and took another step towards the witcher.

“So the alderman will not pay you,” Jaskier said suddenly. Geralt hummed in confirmation. Jaskier licked his lips and Geralt’s eyes followed the tip of his tongue. 

He shook his head and growled but made no attempt to step away, “are you using your powers on me?” 

Jaskier shook his head, “that is not how I work, darling, I cannot force anyone to do anything they don’t want to.”

A heartbeat later he stood only a breath away from Geralt.

“What I can do is offer something you desire. But it is completely your choice if you take it.”

“And,” Geralt asked in a hoarse voice, “what do you want?”

Jaskier smiled, looking hungrily at Geralt’s lips.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wouldn't want you.”

The demon lifted his hand slowly, stroked a rogue strand of his white hair behind Geralt’s ear and said softly, “so what do you say?”

Geralt swallowed, still not moving away. He could feel Jaskier’s breath on his face, so close was the demon. 

“You could have overpowered me at any time, couldn’t you?” Geralt asked, “even with my silver sword at your throat?”

Jaskier just smiled and nodded.

“Why didn’t you?” Geralt asked, breathless.

“Because you like to be in control, don’t you?” the demon purred, his index finger stroking down Geralt’s chest.

And with a motion too quick even for Geralt, Jaskier had stepped behind him, captured both of his wrists in his surprisingly strong hands and pushed Geralt's chest against a tree, holding him securely in place. Geralt wiggled around but found that the demon was surprisingly strong. But somehow he wasn’t afraid. 

Jaskier’s grip was firm but gentle.

“But sometimes,” he whispered in Geralt’s ear, tickling the sensitive skin there with his hot breath, “it is nice to let go and let someone else take over, isn’t it?”

Geralt shuddered and leaned back into Jaskier’s warm body. 

“So you want to play with me, witcher?” Jaskier breathed against his ear.

“Yes,” Geralt said before he felt hot lips pressed to his neck kissing a trail from his ear to his shoulder.

A heartbeat later his breath caught in his throat as he felt Jaskier open his mouth to press sharp canines against the soft skin of his neck, hard enough to dent but not pierce it and he groaned. 

-------

Tag list:

@jaskierswolf @geraskier-trashh @hailhailsatan @panerato @marvagon @x-anxious @moonysourenza @kaktusbambus @wildonewrites @dapandapod

let me know if I should put you on or remove you from my tag list :)

(I have the feeling I forgot someone who had asked me to be tagged, if that is so, please let me know that I can add you again, sorry!)

[one-boring-person]

H'okay I gotta bite. From the friends-to-enemies-to-lovers prompt, would you please do #5 with one of our favorite smart asses: Gabriel Cash? I was going to ask for Snake but after seeing 'Guilty as Charged' I *LOVE* how you write him!

Thank you so much! I'm really glad you liked it! And thanks for the request, I enjoyed writing it, though I'm really sorry that it took so long :/

We Make A Good Team.

Gabe Cash (Tango and Cash) x reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of gun violence

Masterlist

"Sorry, can I just…" A pair of hands suddenly grip my waist and pull me to the side, away from my position by the corner, the familiar voice sending a wave of irritation through me as I hear it.

Stumbling to stand beside the newcomer, I glare at him as he takes my place, drawing a gun from his belt as he presses himself back against the grimy bricks, peeking round the corner.

"Cash, get the hell out of my way!" I hiss at him, grabbing his arm to pull him back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you say something?" Gabe turns briefly to look at me, his hair whipping into my face from our accidental proximity. 

"Come on, Cash. You know playing deaf doesn't suit you." I retort, still pulling at his arm.

"Really? Because it sure as hell looks like you're enjoying it." He sends a pointed glance at my hand on his sleeve, "See, you're already trying to take my clothes off."

Snapping my hand back to my body, I make a sound of disgust, blushing angrily as he smirks at me and turns back around, peering round into the darkened street.

With an angry scowl, I turn back to face the rest of the team of armed police behind us, locating my captain quickly.

"Why the hell is he on my case, sir?!" I growl, gesturing back to the blonde beside me.

"Hey, hey! "He" has a name, you know." Gabe interrupts, "And who said it's your case? Last I checked, there's a whole crowd here."

"What, you think you should go in solo?" I scoff, barely looking at him, "I've been on this case for a week now, so it's mine. I call the shots, so fuck off!" 

"Actually, (Y/n), I called him in." My captain says from the back of the group, sending me a stern look as I set my jaw.

"But why?" 

"Because, babe, there's no way you're gonna pull this off without me." Gabe smirks, before he suddenly steps out from behind the corner, yelling out to the criminals I'm trying to convict.

"Cash! You fucker!" I bite out after him, following swiftly with my gun raised, knowing I'll probably need it now.

Falling in beside him, I take up a position to his right, inadvertently reverting back to old habits I built up years before, weapon aimed slightly to the side as I keep half an eye on the surroundings as well as the scene before us. Noticing me there, Gabe shoots me a quick grin, winking as he sees me realise what I've done, looking back as I make a face of disgust and move into a different place, scowling to myself. Observing the scene before me, I change my aim as I figure out that there's no way we'll be snuck up on - the gangs (all three) are there in their entirety. Swallowing, I signal to the squad behind us to move in, thankful for the forethought of bringing in more help from the armed cops. It's not long before they're all in position, both the ones behind us and on the roofs around, as well as those at the other end of the alley. 

"Put your weapons down, you're surrounded! Nobody needs to get hurt, but if you don't do what I say, someone will!" I call out to the gathered gang members before Cash can get a word in, eyeing them all warily.

Nothing happens, the whole alley remaining still and silent, almost eerie as we stare at each other, guns aimed at one another. It takes a full minute for the tension to be broken.

"You think she's joking? Listen, guys, I've seen her angry and trust me, it's not pretty. Just drop the weapons, and none of us have to see her go batshit! Everyone wins!" Gabe finally shouts to the gangs, nodding towards me with a knowing look. 

Annoyed, I glance at him, glaring as he winks at me again, finding his relaxed approach infuriating. Across from us, the gang members look at each other in confusion, as if debating whether or not to follow our instruction 

"Look, guys, it's really not that hard. Just do what she says!" Cash tries again, cocking his gun ominously.

"Drop your weapons!" I follow up, adjusting my grip on my gun, "Drop them and step back, hands in the air!"

As the threat of the situation finally sinks in for them all, many of the gangsters gradually place their weapons down, surrendering themselves even as their compatriots curse them out, pointing their guns at them. It doesn't take long, however, for them all to see sense, especially as the armed police move forwards to start making the arrests. 

With a triumphant grin, Gabe turns to me and holsters his gun, lifting an eyebrow at my vexed expression as he goes to move past.

"Way to go, team!" He comments as he steps past me, bumping my shoulder with his.

Flipping him off, I go to help the others, ignoring him.

*

It's already half ten by the time I finish writing the report, my hand aching from the continuous movement - my captain has always preferred handwritten files for some reason, so I often spend hours writing up days and days worth of case notes. Even so, as I walk over to the door to the captain's office, I can't help but feel a little satisfied by the completed wad of paper, holding it carefully so that it doesn't get damaged at all. 

Naturally, the captain isn't in at this time of night, so I push open his door and go to the desk, dropping the file by his keyboard with a final thunk, glad to be rid of the burden. Without further ado, I leave the room, heading to my office again to grab my things, only to realise I have yet to sort out the conviction forms for the gangsters we picked up earlier, a job that will take me a good hour or so alone. Sighing, I take up the pile of papers, shuffling through them with a tired carelessness, moving back out into the corridor with them. 

This time, I make my way over to the communal area, intending to make myself a cup of coffee so that I'll at least be able to stay awake whilst I fill these in. As I enter though, I fail to notice the figure sat in the corner.

"Babe, it is way too late to be drinking coffee. You should try a beer." Gabe's voice sounds almost as tired as I feel, though I can't quite see why, as it's highly unlikely that he's done any paperwork in the last four hours.

His words startle me, making me jump and drop my cup to the counter top with a loud clatter.

"Fuck, Cash! You scared the shit outta me!" I curse, pressing a hand to my chest as I catch my breath.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Thought you'd seen me." The detective apologises, lifting his beer up to his lips.

"S'fine." I mumble, turning to the fridge in search of a drink, "I need something stronger than a beer."

"Stronger?" Gabe lifts an eyebrow.

"Yeah. But I'll take a beer...I ran out of scotch a few days ago." 

"Scotch? You take that shit to work?" His other eyebrow joins the first.

Shooting him a tired smirk, I grab a beer and join him at the table, dropping the papers down in a messy heap.

"I usually do." I reply, cracking the beer open on the edge of the table, "As I said, I drank it all."

"Damn, girl, didn't realise work got you so stressed." He remarks, toasting me as I lift my drink to my lips.

I shrug, taking out my pen to fill some of the forms in, writing in the date, charges and signing the bottom. 

"Why don't you just leave that for someone else to do? Or wait until tomorrow? They're not going anywhere." Gabe asks after a while, having watched me in silence, the longest we've gone without arguing in a long time.

"Because," I sigh, glancing up at him, "I actually stick to my deadlines. This needs to be done by tomorrow."

He clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes as he reaches across, pinching the end of my pen.

"The captain isn't going to expect you to have written a whole report, plus thirty of those fuckers. You're not a machine, you need a rest." The blonde says to me, clear blue eyes fixed on mine, genuine care written into his expression.

"No, Cash-" I try to argue, only to be cut off as he takes my pen from me and stands from the table, coming round to my side.

"Yes, you're going to listen to me for once." He orders, almost sternly, helping me from my chair as I protest a little, unused to the friendly way he's behaving around me.

Shushing me, Gabe leads me over to the sofa at the far end of the break room, sitting me down before taking his place at the other side, which isn't so far given the small stature of the piece of furniture. Our legs are touching from our close proximity, but I'm too tired to do anything about it, simply enjoying his company instead, something I never thought would happen again.

"You know, (Y/n), we still make a good team." He murmurs after a minute or so, drinking from his beer as I turn my head to look at him.

"I guess so." I agree, thinking back to the arrest earlier today, as well as a few earlier on in our careers. Back when things were easier.

Gabe is clearly thinking the same as he sighs and turns to look at me, the two of us making eye contact properly for the first time in years, unspoken words passing between us as we gaze at each other. 

"I still wish things hadn't changed." He sighs wistfully, glancing away again, hand clenching the bottle. 

"Me too, honestly." I reply quietly, finishing my beer quickly as I settle back into the sofa, feeling sleep tugging at my mind, "It was nice having a partner."

"Yeah it was. Work gets lonely now." 

"Tell me about it." 

All is silent between us for a few more minutes, during which time I start to feel my eyelids drooping closed, my body relaxing comfortably into the soft cushions.

"Maybe one day we could work together again." He proposes, placing our bottles on the floor by our feet.

"Yeah, that would be nice." I agree, being totally genuine as I try my hardest not to drift off, "I miss you, Ca- Gabe."

At the sound of his name, Gabe looks over at me again, evidently noticing me half-asleep on the couch beside him. It takes him a moment, but it's not too long before I feel a lair of arms wrap around me. Eyes opening, I give him a questioning look as he pulls me closer to him, maneuvering us so he's got me cradled against his chest, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. If I wasn't so tired, I would've pushed him away, but as it is, it feels nice being held in his strong grip, his chest firm under my cheek and palms as I give in and nuzzle closer to him. His scent floods my nostrils, something in the mixture of old fast-food and hastily-used cologne comforting me as I feel a soft warmth spread through me. 

Too tired to argue, I relax into him, allowing him to lull me to sleep with gentle patterns on my back, his hair falling into my face as he leans forwards over me. Just before I drop off entirely, I feel him press a soft kiss to my forehead, his arms tightening around me as he hugs me to his body, muscles loosening underneath me.

I really have missed him.

[dadsbongos]

Greetings! I got this idea for danganronpa AU where Nagito is like ghost "living" (or haunting idk-) his old house and the reader moves into that house and they slowly became closer and yk<3

hi i love this concept :)

Request for: Nagito Komaeda Warnings: nagito’s backstory, slight religious overtones, we breach minor ghost-fucker territory (but no actual ghost-fucking), no-killing game au also ~~~

The house itself was rather nice. Nothing too luxurious for who the previous owner was aside from the obnoxiously fancy chandelier hanging in the den.

The realtor was hesitant to explain that the reason it was selling so comically cheap was, in fact, due to the belief of a ghost. Not just any, however. It was the previous owner’s ghost.

People who even stepped into the house could feel his chilling touch. Hear quiet, shaky whispers in the night. The fireplace would crackle and burst to life at strange times with nobody near it. Visitors and almost-buyers alike would thrust their warnings to stay away upon anybody who so much as looked at the home.

But that didn’t matter much - a house was a house and it’s not like the ghost was malicious from description. Just… annoying. Perhaps a little eerie, but again, not harmful. Everybody escaped without physical injury. So, why not buy it?

Maybe the ghost just needed a friend? Death was probably a lonely time.

Bought on Tuesday. Moved in Wednesday. Finished unpacking… still pending.

It’s not like (Y/n) had anybody to impress anyways. She’d made the move for a fresh start; new faces, new stories.

The bumps began on Friday.

Sometimes they were taps. Sometimes crashes followed by the gentle rapping against the walls, as if to apologize for the loud noise.

She’d stayed through the month, undeterred by any of the ghosts’ activities.

Then the happenings seemed a little more… intimate.

A photo slowly sliding out from beneath the fridge, at first.

Three people in frame. From left to right, there was a figure with shoulder-length pink hair and a smile to make the heavens jealous - then white hair to rival a cloud-marshmallow love child, skin sickly pale and body wastingly thin - finally, brown hair with an ahoge sticking out like an antenna and posture that almost made him taller than the one in the middle. Well, not really, but attempting counted, right? 

“Which one’s you?” she asked the air, whether she was too tired, or simply didn’t care enough, to be embarrassed was irrelevant. 

A single droplet of water, from a leak she didn’t know existed until this very moment, fell from the ceiling before splotching over the face of the one in the middle.

“White hair, heavy eye bags?”

There was no response, but she took it as a yes anyway. What a pretty, pretty face. In a tragic way.

Because he did look rather ill. Frail build and purple hues under his eyes. Pretty but suffering - it made her feel bad. Of course, she already knew he was dead, but even so - suffering should always inspire empathy rather than romance.

And again, he was dead, so the likelihood of a romance between them anyway was slim to none. None. Unless she suddenly dropped dead, there would be no sweet kisses in the morning or gentle hugs from behind as one of them makes dinner. Maybe when she died, he’d be available for a ghostly date while the house gets put back on the market.

(Y/n) chuckled at the sudden thought of lightning cracking into her home, despite the sunny weather, and striking her dead where she stood. Ridiculous, but God liked ridiculous things.

The sudden thought hit her - what if that old photo was old old? Maybe he was eighty when he died and she just subconsciously signed herself up for a date with an elderly ghost?

Shaking her head, (Y/n) scolded herself for the thought. She’d already be dead by then, it wouldn’t matter what age he was...

Then, it was the scribbling on spare papers. Always specifically spares. Double copies she had put in recycling. Scraps. Even on the backs of paper-esque trash. It was an oddly considerate move for a ghost, though to be fair, she’d never met a ghost before and couldn’t tell if it was out-of-place or not for them.

The words always appeared when she was out of the room. Leaving to grab something and coming back to find the out-dated schedule for work out of recycling and on her desk with crayon sprawled over it. 

Hi 

Eloquently said, in her opinion.

“Hi?” she looked around the room, “Can you not talk? I thought people said they heard whispers…”

A bang in the other room drew her out. When there was nothing out of place, she returned to her desk only to be met with more words.

I’m Nagito Komaeda :)

“Dodging the question, huh?”

The process repeated. Bang. Nothing out of the ordinary. Return. New words.

Sorry :(

“Don’t apologize,” (Y/n) shrugged off before moving to her computer, “I’m just gonna look you up.”

A series of bangs - now that she truly listened, it sounded like a fist pounding to the drywall - resonated through the home. She did not get up nor did she pause her actions of Googling the man known as Nagito Komaeda. 

Until a piece of paper flew in from the open door.

Bad idea

“Probably, yeah,” she huffed, moving back to her computer.

Nagito Komaeda, born April 28th, first popped up as the sole survivor in an old plane hijacking report. Both parents, all plane staff, and the hijackers left dead after the plane crash caused by a meteor strike. Then he came up as a survivor of an old serial kidnapper/killer. Then as a boy who’d inherited the entirety of his parents’ fortune and won a large sum from a lottery ticket he’d found in the trash bag he was stuffed in by his kidnapper. Then as a Hope’s Peak graduate under the title Ultimate Lucky Student.

Finally, as a 25-year-old man who’d miraculously survived ten years post-diagnosis with frontotemporal dementia and advanced lymphoma before his death.

“Holy shit,” she nearly choked on her own shock, “You weren’t boring, that’s for sure.”

Another paper, this time written in marker as if he could sense that she didn’t wish to get up. Another strangely considerate move.

Thanks 

You’re not creeped out?

“I mean, it’s more sad than creepy,” her eyes scanned over a single line in the article once again.

“Nagito Komaeda, after all his fortunes and misfortunes alike, died at age 25, after ten years of illness, surrounded by friends who took the place of family. Out of respect, no interviews were conducted, but anybody, anyone at all even from a quick glance, could tell - Nagito Komaeda will surely be missed.” 

Her eyes watered slightly as she clicked out of the Togami Publications, laughing at the pure awkwardness of her situation, “Oh my God, that’s really fucking sad. I’m sorry your life sucked.”

Another paper.

It’s fine

I was just wasting space anyway :)

“No, you were- “ she gestured to her computer screen before covering her eyes in shame of her tears, “You meant so much to your friends.”

She expected memorial posts, maybe not as many as there were, but she saw them coming. What she didn’t see coming, however, was that each and every one would be dearly heartfelt - not a single one was disingenuous or vague in the slightest. She also didn’t see herself crying by the end of her little search.

But there she was.

Something light floated into her lap. A tissue.

“Oh my fucking God,” (Y/n) choked up again, picking up the tissue with a small smile, “Stop, you’re a ghost, you’re supposed to be scary and making me leave, not helping me dry my tears…”

Another paper atop the slowly growing pile.

Was that a ghostphobic remark?

“Oh, I’m keeping that one,” she stood, sniffling as she wiped away her tears, and picked up the last paper, nodding to herself as she muttered, “Yep. This one’s going on the wall.”

~~

Nagito stopped whispering because people ran when he did. His voice was always hideous, he didn’t to be reminded. Besides, (Y/n) seemed to prefer the paper method - she hung up her favorites along the walls of her office and if a visitor teased her about it she would ignore them. It was admirable, how their grins and giggles rolled off her back like water droplets over a duck.

He wished he could be like that.

Could have been.

He still had trouble with that.

Has.

Nagito looks up from his spot at the kitchen table where (Y/n) was cooking for herself. She seemed so at-peace in this house, and he’s glad for that. He never liked living alone and everyone else seemed to hate having him there. Not that he blamed them much.

Even so, he much prefers (Y/n) over any past guest as his living counterpart of the house.

She even leaves chairs open for him at the table; he smiles widely at the thought, patting his thighs and kicking out his legs in his seat- just like now!

She’d pulled out the chair upon entering the kitchen before calling out for him that she’d be cooking. She even knew he liked watching her cook!

It was selfish of him to crave so much attention, but in the end, Nagito was already dead so… did it really matter when he indulged in his wants more than he should?

Divine punishment isn’t real and he likes being around her, so why should he bother hiding himself away in the attic?

(Y/n) moved around the house with little to no liveliness, it made him chuckle. Her shoulders drooped and footsteps heavy, it was fun. To feel like he wasn’t alone.

He hoped she felt the same. That he was a friend… or, undead companion?

He hoped she would stay and not move out.

He hoped they could be real friends one day… if it’s not too much to ask, that once she dies, she’ll meet him. The real him. 

That would be heaven.

[babybatscreationsv2]

The Nest pt1

Marvel | Starker

Tony has been hiding from the vampires for years, but when Peter decides that he wants him they take him easily. Now he must learn to survive being a vampire’s pet. There is no escape from the nest.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings under the cut

warnings: kidnapping, noncon, thoughts/mentions of suicide, blood drinking, drugged sex, mind break, stockholm syndrome, dehumanization bdsm

The chains rattled. They shook and clanged against the bed frame. Tony grit his teeth, glaring at the eyelets that had been welded to the frame. He never imagined it would be him. Never in most sadistic nightmares did he dream of this. Ten years ago was the war. Well, the term war was laughable. They had been well organized, the bastards. What little intel the resistance had, suggested that the bloodsuckers had been hiding underground for centuries. Until they realized how easy it would be simply stop. All at once, they flooded the streets. They killed millions. Others were turned. Some were taken. Only the most beautiful, the most talented, the most admired of humans were left alive. Only the most desirable went missing. All the rest were bodies on the ground. The streets had been littered with corpses. Ten years later, Tony still came across human remains while out scavenging: bones, corpses that had been trapped indoors left to rot. The vampires had no empathy for humankind. To make matters worse, so much of humanity had begun to bow to them. They tended farms and ran factories. The vampires commanded them to make whatever goods were necessary for human life. Then they lined up to have blood drawn, payment for their lives. They were slaves, blood banks, livestock. They worked and they bled and they reproduced. People like Tony, people who weren't afraid to die, they were the ones hiding underground now. In the very same caves and caverns as the bloodsuckers who stole the Earth. So no, Tony never imagined that he would be caught. Not because he thought he was stronger than them, but because they kept only the most beautiful. Tony was an old man, graying, wrinkled around his eyes. What did a vampire want with him? Humiliation? They had grabbed him. Dragged him through one of the shining towers they had built. They cleaned him up, checked his blood for disease. Then they left him, both hands chained to this bed. He could hear voices all around. The space was open, only thin white curtains hung around him. When they brought him in, he saw that the entire floor was open in the same way, just beds surrounded by thin sheets. He heard crying, begging, moaning, screaming. And he knew what those fuckers were doing. He just didn't understand what he was doing there. After hours left alone, someone finally stepped through the curtains. The vampire was skinny, pale, with curly brown hair and too big eyes and the softest most inviting lips. If Tony didn't know better, he would think he was an angel. He came to stand at the end of the bed. As he stopped and looked at him, he became statute still. Tony's skill crawled. "What the hell do you want with me?" The vampire continued to watch him. Tony tugged again on his chains, snarling. "Just kill me already!" The vampire moved, gracefully bending to kneel at the end of the bed. He reached forward with long fingers and touched his cheek. Tony thought that was it. The thing would snap his neck and feed on his blood and it would be over. "What are you called?" it said. It's voice was sweet, on the high side, but masculine still. A parody of a young man. "You're worst nightmare, darling." Tony turned and snapped his teeth at his hand but the creature moved too fast. Then Tony gasped, pain crackling through his face. He hadn't even seen the thing move to slap him. It stared at him blankly. "What is it you believe is going to happen? Will you escape those chains? Kill me? Flee the tower?" "All three. In that order." It was still again, observing. Only it's lips moved and it was uncomfortable to watch a human face speak without emoting. "You will do none of those things. I would advise you to let such thoughts go. I have watched men go mad trying and failing and struggling. It is no use." "Because you're stronger than us?" The vampire smiled and Tony's stomach knotted. "The only thing you have that I don't is hot flesh." "Why am I here?" "Because I want you to be. Because you have value to me beyond your death. Don't go getting any silly ideas, though. If you cause trouble, I won't simply kill you. There is no escape. Not even death." "What does that mean?" "It means that I'm going to ask you to do things that you don't want to do and you will quite predictably deny me. When you do, you will be punished. Through pain, through food withheld, through whatever means I desire. But I will never kill you and you will never find yourself in a position to take your own life." Tony scoffed. "I've suffered a lot worse than you." Again the vampire smiled. "I do hope you can obey well enough that I won't have to break you. I don't like dolls as much as the others." "Feel free to try. I'm not your plaything." The vampire came crawled closer. Tony backed himself against the head of the bed. The position left him enough slack to throw a punch, but his wrist was caught in a delicate hand. He swung with the other to the same effect. Gripping tight both of his wrists, the vampire pulled him down until it knelt over him. It squeezed until Tony felt deep bruises forming, until he wondered if his bones would snap. He breathed hard through his nose, teeth grinding together. "What is your name?" it asked him, softly, sweetly, as if it weren't hurting him. "Tony," he groaned. It relaxed its grip, though it still held him tightly. It leaned down, growing closer to his face. Tony tucked his chin, afraid it was coming for his neck. Instead, it pressed its lips to his forehead. Tony felt warmth in his belly. Too long without an affectionate touch. He could vomit. Then it was gone from the bed. "You may call me master or nothing at all," it said. Then it left him alone with only the sound of human suffering through the thin curtains. It was a long time before his heart slowed enough to allow him to rest, but he was tired from running, from fighting, from fear. When he woke, it was not the softness of the bed he felt beneath him. He jumped, but a strong arm around his chest held him down. "Ah, you're awake. You slept a long time," said the vampire. "Let me go!" He struggled, but the arm against his chest might as well have been steel. "No. Might as well relax. Rest with me, Tony." He smiled, pretty and sugary sweet. Tony groaned, but he settled against his chest. No sense in exhausting himself again. "Very good." Skinny fingers stroked his arm. Its hand was too cold to be any sort of comforting. "I hate you." "I understand. Being held against your will must be unpleasant." Tony huffed. "What do you know?" "I lived in the cold and in the dark for so long. I too longed to be free. At least you will never go cold or hungry." "Thanks a lot, I appreciate that. And will that be before or after the blood letting and the rape?" A hand clamped suddenly around his throat. Tony wheezed, air becoming suddenly thin. "Show some respect or you will suffer your first punishment sooner than planned." It let him go and he coughed and choked. His chained hands felt his throat. The vampire trailed fingers over his chest. "You are mine. I don't think I have to explain to you what that means. Do I?" Nails scratched down his ribs. Tony gasped and tried to get away, but there was no where to go. It dug in until he hissed in pain. "No," Tony rasped. "No?" Again it scratched painful lines down sensitive skin. "No, master." He felt a chill and wondered if he was bleeding, but he couldn't see. He felt nauseous. His pride was wounded after such a swift loss. "Good boy," it purred. Its fingers carded through his hair. Tony ground his teeth and stared at the curtain and the shadows that moved beyond. "You'll learn to find a balance you can tolerate. Somewhere between defiant and obedient. You'll find it's the same balance between pleasure and pain." "I don't want any pleasure from you." "Not yet." "Not ever." "My Tony. I can hear you begging for me already. But I waited two hundred years to see the moonlight. I can wait to hear your pleas." Tony fought again, pulling at the chains, pushing against the vampire's arm. It tisked. "Settle." After a moment, he complied. There was no sense in exhausting himself now. "I've been patient enough, letting you settle in." The arm around his chest tightened. A hand gripped his arm and another his chin. The vampire turned his head to one side. Tony struggled, but realized now that the vampire had been giving him slack as he was now fully unable to move anything but his legs. He felt softness against his neck, then the sharp prick of fangs. He gasped and tried again to escape. The fangs burrowed under his skin, bringing pain, but it faded as the creature's toxic venom took over. It numbed his mind, left him in a comfortable haze like no drug he had ever tasted. He calmed. No part of him wanted to fight. He was floating. Yet, he could feel his life draining from his body. He felt the vampire's grip loosen, but he laid limp against its chest. A hand stroked his chest. Lips sucked at the punctures in his neck. It felt good. Like a hickey that was just a little too hard. The pressure at his neck stopped. The haze remained. "You're being so good for me, Tony. It's nice isn't it? Being my blood bag?" it laughed. "I'm gonna kill you," he mumbled. "No. You won't." It nuzzled his neck. "You'll lay in my bed like a whore, counting the hours until I return to grace you with my attention. If you ever learn to please me, I might be good to you. Treat you like a pet." Tony moaned, his head spinning. The vampire stroked his chest like a cat. "Rest now," it said. There wasn't anything else he could do. He woke to the smell of food. He was in a new place. It was a small room. Private. No more screaming and moaning and shadows all around him. There was the vampire. He leaned against the wall. A smooth, pale leg slipped free of his long, gray, robe. He watched him with rich brown eyes and a neutral expression. Tony sat up. His feet touched the cold floor. The only covering he had was the thin blanket in his lap. His hands were still bound and chained to the head of the bed. His stomach rumbled. "Hungry, pet?" "Thought I had to earn being your pet." The vampire smiled. "You do, but I thought the best way to convince you that you want it, is to show you how good it can be." "Is that why we're here?" "You seemed uncomfortable being on display. Don't misunderstand, I will take you to the nest whenever I please. For today, I have gifted you privacy." "How kind-" Tony choked, eyes wide, heart pounding. The vampire had moved so quickly he hadn't seen it. Now it had him by the throat, pressed down on his back it hovered over him, noses almost touching. "The correct response is 'thank you, master'. Or would you prefer I had you in the nest, screaming on my cock, like a worthless toy?" Its nails bit into his skin. "Thank you, master," Tony rasped. He sucked in a breathed as it relaxed its grip. "Good, pet." Its hand wandered down his bare body. Tony pulled against his chains. He squeezed his thighs together as that hand dipped down too low. "Buy me dinner first," he grit through his teeth. "You are dinner," the vampire laughed. His fingers teased the back of his thigh. His skin tingled. Its tongue swiped over his mouth. Tony shivered. "Am I so undesirable?" It was teasing him and Tony wasn't going to be baited. They both knew how his skin was growing flushed. How his cock had thickened, just enough to suggest interest. The creature was beautiful in a way that couldn't be real. Yet, here it was, violating him. "No one looks beautiful when they're attempting to rape someone." "Oh, Tony," the vampire rolled its eyes. Its nose touched his cheek and he felt its breath as he went down until his lips brushed his ear. It felt good. Really good. He wanted to cry. "I am not bound by your mortal rules." "Be-because we're less than you." Tony took a breath. "And no one calls it rape when someone fucks a goat." The vampire huffed. "You can be livestock or you can be a pet. How you view this life is up to you. Make no mistake about escaping it. You won't." It releases him, turning away to a counter at the opposite wall. "Are you hungry?" "No thank you," Tony snarled. The vampire turned and Tony's stomach rumbled at the sight of food. He held a tray of fruit and biscuits and some sort of rolled omelet. An awfully delicious looking meal to feed a pet. How much did this vampire want him to behave? How much could he earn by playing his game? Could he be granted enough privilege to escape? The vampire sat down in front of him. It rested the tray on its own lap. When it offered him a strawberry from its own fingers, Tony took into his mouth without complaint. It fed him the whole tray and Tony took each bite obediently. And when the vampire left him alone, he cried. Days passed this way, though time crawled along. The vampire fed him his meals and fed from him every few days. The pleasure of its bite grew each time. So did the pleasure of its company. Still, Tony waited for an opening. Then the vampire took him by the hand to led him back to the nest. The halls were bare white, unmarked. The vampire must have had some other way of navigating. Tony counted six halls, then a turn to the right. Turn left down the second hall. Then into an elevator on the right. They went up to the top floor with no indication of which floor they had come from. The place was built to be a maze, trapping any human who escaped a vampire's clutches. Any unmarked floor in that elevator could have been the ground level. And even then, vampires could fly when humans could not. There may not be a way out at ground level. Anxiety tightened Tony's chest. He pressed a hand over his heart. He felt it beat, strong, but too quick. He was alive. He could get out still. He could find a way. They reached the top. The doors opened. They passed another vampire leading a young woman into the elevator. It gave his master a sneer before stepping inside. The woman followed looking curiously at Tony. He looked at the vampire beside him, but nothing showed on his face. What reason would other vampires have not to like him? His small size, his more delicate figure, his taste for old men? The vampire pushed open a curtain and they stepped through. Tony tried to block out the sounds. Someone was crying today. It put him on edge. The curtain closed and he was caught around the waist. He turned his head away as the vampire pressed kisses down his jaw. His teeth scrapped his neck and his knees wobbled. He was backed into the bed. They fell back, the vampire on top of him. It pressed kisses and soft bites all over his skin. His head spun with the memory of its venom. Somehow he missed it when the vampire kissed his lips, but then he was there, holding Tony down by his wrists while he kissed him. It felt good and it had to be the vampire venom or the fact that he had no other contact in this world or just that he hadn't been touched by another being in years since running and hiding didn't leave him with many friends. With the vampire pressed between his legs and their lips moving together, Tony felt his body take interest. He twisted away with a disgusted sound. The vampire smiled. "Why resist when you desire me?" It was true. He hated himself but it was true. The vampire was, by appearances, every bit the sort of man he might have taken to bed. Gorgeous and slim. He would been just as lovely beneath him as on top. "Because you're a murderer." "Most humans aren't worth keeping. Your kind kill each other as much as any vampire does. Even now, as your world ends and vampires reign, you're still out there killing and raping and stealing from each other. And then here you are, disgusted by me doing the same." "In my defense, I find humans who do these things equally as disgusting." The vampire's thigh pressed against his cock. A shiver went through him but he made no sound. "This doesn't seem disgusted." "I can't help what my dick decides to do without my consent." The vampire still smiled. It still looked so damn satisfied. "You're everything I hoped you would be." "What are you-" Tony started, but the vampire was done talking. It bent its head and bit into his neck. Tony moaned. His head spun. His thighs squeezed the vampire's waist. Their hips ground together. Tony panted, pleasure climbing. He felt life leaving his body, cold on his skin, but each swipe of the vampire's tongue on his neck, the suction of his lips, might as well have been on his cock. The vampire encouraged his pleasure. A hand slipped between his legs to cover his cock and give him something firm to rub against. He couldn't stop himself. He came and he moaned loud and shamelessly, adding to the cacophony of human pleasure around him. "Good boy," the vampire purred. "Good pet." Pleasure curled through his system. He let his eyes fall closed. He let himself be warm and comfortable for a moment. Then fear struck him. He'd let himself fall into its trap. He'd let himself become vulnerable. With wide eyes he looked up at the little vampire. It smiled, much too happy and much too sweet. It lifted its cum soiled hand and licked it clean, tongue running over his palm and his long, skinny, fingers. Tony felt his cock twitch against his stomach. The traitorous, evil, thing. "Was that so bad, Tony?" it cooed. "I hate you." It caressed his cheek. "That's okay. I don't need your love." Its fingers tangled together with Tony's. He tried to pull his hand free and couldn't. Grinding his teeth he struggled, but the vampire simply lifted his arms and bit into his wrist. The pain felt good. It sent a rush through him before the venom even hit. Watching the vampire feed... he was beautiful. His long eyelashes brushed his cheeks and he moaned softly at the taste of his blood. He opened his eyes, watching Tony's face as he licked the blood from his skin. He sucked lightly, pulling more to the surface with lazy, indulgent, pulls. He didn't take much. Just enough to make him buzz with pleasure. Just enough that he was hard again, impossibly quick. The vampire pressed it's slender form between his legs. Tony whimpered, helpless, feeling its cock against his ass. He could only lay there, feeling heavy, waiting as it prepared to take him. It didn't hurt as badly as he expected. His venom-hazed mind even enjoyed it. He felt full and stretched and that dammed creature's cock rubbed against his prostate and sent pleasure rushing through him. "Good pet," it purred. Tony moaned helplessly. The vampire above him was beautiful and strong. He felt completely the opposite. When it kissed him, he kissed back, lost to pleasure and helpless to its desires. It fucked like it wanted to break him. Or perhaps, it didn't realize its own strength. Either way, Tony couldn't speak to complain. He laid there and he moaned and he took what he was given. He panted as the vampire pressed kisses against his neck. Everything felt too good, like biting into a cake that's too sweet. Sickly so. It grew to be too much. And he passed out before it was done.

[leah-halliwell92]

Mr. Telford History Teacher

Summary: You needed one last elective class to fill the second to last category for your minor. Little did you know the one teaching it would have more effect on you than the corse itself. 

(Cred and thanks to @come-join-themurder​) 

Warning: Swearing, mentions of harassment and rape.

You’d taken a seat in the farthest corner of the room hoping for the class to be smooth sailing. It’s not that you didn’t like history, you do. But European history wasn’t something you wanted to...until the teacher walked into the classroom that is.

He did not look at all friendly, was the first thing you thought when he walked in dressed in black, his shades in place and scars under his goatee. The man himself though is another thing entirely. You stared at the man from behind your lashes and nearly gushed at how handsome he is. All height and salt and pepper hair ticking box after box of what your dream man would look like. You resisted the urge to sigh as he quietly set himself up before moving around the desk and leaning on it and taking a look at the now full classroom. 

“You see more cheer in a graveyard,” he commented his accent coming through, a slight grin making his dimples pop under his “Glaswegian smile”. 

You breathed a laugh at his small reference and the shaky sighs of the rest of your classmates. 

“Ah I see a sign of life from the back corner!” He said exuberantly looking in your direction, “What’s your name darlin?” 

“Y/N sir,” you said clearly.

“Manners that’s good,” he said nodding in approval before going through the roster taking attendance. 

You quickly discovered that he could read the dictionary and you’d be happy, his voice doing things to you you’d never thought possible. Tender yet gruff and rich to your ears as he finished reading out names and began to discuss what the course is built on and what we would need to do in the coming weeks. 

Mr. Telford was just about to begin lecturing on the first portion of the set of chapters you’d be looking at only to be oh so nicely interrupted by none other than Jonathan Darby. You rolled your eyes as he made half-assed remarks he made. The over confident prick thinks that because his dad has ten year that he can do anything he wants to anyone he wants. Fucker thinks he’s above the rules cuz daddy rubs elbows with the right people. 

“Shut up Johnny! Some of us actually learn something!” You yelled finally having snapped, “Or do you need me to call your mom again?”

The room snickered as he promptly shut up and sank into his seat. 

You looked up to see a smirk of approval on Mr. Telford’s face. 

The class proceeded without anymore interruptions to your relief, now if you could only focus on what he is lecture. It wasn’t the content that held your attention but the person giving the lecture. Mr. Telford strolled from one side of the room to the other lecturing as he did. You loved how his accent and voice seemed caress each word he said no matter how rough.

You were both relieved and disappointed when you saw that class was nearing its end. 

“Read the syllabus for the important dates and read at least the first two chapters of the textbook before next class, thank you!” He said as students started trailing out of the room. 

You’d just about finished packing and stood to make your way down when Darby towered over your standing form a smirk on his face. 

“You’re going to be trouble,” he said leaning into you getting in your face, “But I like me a girl that fights.”

You rolled your eyes having heard this before and not really in the mood to be intimidated, least of all by wanna be skin head. 

“I’m going to be late for my next class,” you said clearly not amused and moved to side step him when his arm blocked your way. 

“I like em when play hard to get too,” he said giving you an appraising look.

You resisted the urge to gag at that and said, “Do you really not know the meaning of “no”?”

He laughed and said, “Bitches like you say that now but you know you want this.”

You pushed your way through to find Mr. Telford sitting a the desk feet up “reading” the book he’d brought with him. 

“Don’t you turn your back to me bitch,” Darby growled and made to grab me when you both heard.

“I wouldn’t do that lad,” You turned to see Mr. Telford standing up and standing between Darby and you, “Harassing a woman is against the law for one and I’m pretty sure you don’t want your old man to see how it is you really behave when not in his classroom.”

Johnny stepped back hands up in mock surrender a twisted smirk playing at his lips. 

“Nothing happened old man, (Y/N) and I were just having a friendly conversation. Weren’t we?” He asked looking at me.

“Not fucking likely,” you spat glaring at him standing your ground. 

Johnny looked like he would jump at you if he could be backed off as Mr Telford  stood between you fully keeping you away from Johnny’s sight, and reach.

You heard an exasperated sigh and footsteps as Johnny finally left the room.

You sighed in relief letting out the tension that had pent up the moment he cornered you. 

“Are you alright lass?” Mr. Telford asked softly turning to you.

Warm brown eyes bright with concern as he looked you over.

You nod and take out your inhaler. You noticed his eyes widen as you breathed in the medication. 

“Yes I’m asthmatic,” you say to his questioning glance, “Johnny doesn’t know it and it’s gonna stay that way. His old man knows and won’t do shit about what Johnny does so if he instigates an asthma attack he won’t get kicked out but at least it’ll put a black spot on his supposedly flawless school record.”

“But you could die,” Mr. Telford said bluntly, “Is getting him sacked worth it?”

You shrug putting your inhaler away and say, “Better dead than a rape victim swept under the rug.”

He looked sadly at you but nodded knowing it would be true before he asked, “Do you have a class after this one?”

You nod in affirmative and look at him in curiosity as he picks up the book and papers he’d come in with. 

“Come on, I’ll walk ya,” he said with a kind grin.

You were about to decline but thought better of it and held back a blush as he walked beside you to your next class.

“Health?” He asked with a hint of a grin on his face.

You laughed and nodded, “Needed for nursing.” 

“If ya need any more help don't hesitate to ask,” he said sincerely, “And if you need an escort let me know.”

“I couldn’t ask––” You began to say.

“Your not askin I'm offering,” he said kind grin fixed on his face making you blush.

You nod appreciatively and walk into the room to take your seat and saw Mr. Telford make his way back to his own classroom. What you didn’t see was him send a text to one Jackson Teller, who so happened to be sitting next to you, to keep an eye on you during the time that he couldn’t.

Just as you had settled in, a man with impossibly blue eyes and the craziest hair walked in.

“Well come to Sex Education boys and girls!” He said with a playful grin, “Yea we’ll be learning about the do it self but what I will make sure all of you know, boys especially, is how to keep your John protected from all sorts of stuff.”

You laughed along with the rest of the class and figured that this semester is going to be an interesting one. 

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