#and lets him touch him without fear of what michael is capable of. after everything michael's done. it would kind of blow him away

[adammilligan]

while i do think michael’s grace and adam’s soul are holding hands in there just given how they like to do things with one of them in their body and the other one projecting a body for themselves i think michael would refrain from touching adam at first because he wasn’t built to be gentle he was built to be a weapon for his father’s use and he’s never been good at being anything BUT that and adam is so small compared to him and he means so much to him and michael is half afraid that he’ll hurt him somehow. like he’ll let ADAM do things like shove him when they’re being playful or put a hand on his shoulder if he’s trying to be comforting but michael is never the one to reach out first. until postcanon when his father’s influence is no longer staining the world and he’s finally learning to be his own person and he reaches out and very very very gently takes adam’s hand in his. because he’s slowly leaning into the concept that maybe he can be more than the tool he thinks himself to be and he WANTS to touch him and because adam doesn’t push him away despite everything he’s done. he just sort of looks down at their joined hands and smiles

#i think the worst thing 15x19 did by way of adam's death was drain michael of any hope of existing #he wanted to live in peace! he walked off the chessboard! and then god killed adam and michael spends the episode reading his own propaganda #and seeming to come to the conclusion that it could've never ended any other way. he is still his father's tool and he might as well just #resign himself to that. he's not even HAPPY about it he just goes. it's always been my destiny to serve you #he doesn't even WANT to. he just wants adam back! #and so with that kind of brainwashing in mind it's kind of like. the fact that adam sees him as more than a tool more than a symbol #and lets him touch him without fear of what michael is capable of. after everything michael's done. it would kind of blow him away #but anyway #kate rambles #midam

[red-doll-face]

Here is a request for slashers if they're open. My brain does a thing where I am affectionate w a person but if I get nudged away (even if it's just to readjust the position), it goes "oh no. They don't want u to touch them. Do not touch ever again or they will get mad at u. U disgust them." Even tho touch is my love language & it hurts, I just won't touch. If confronted, I will get confused & panicky cuz "u didn't want me to touch? Im respecting ur wishes? Did I miss something?" Its a mess.

Requests are indeed open, I’m sorry I take foreverrr to do these but i hope u enjoy! I don’t know what to call this tho. For simplicity’s sake I’m calling this nervous reader lmao, idk what else to call these.

Slashers x gn nervous Reader

Jason Voorhees:

Jason can very much relate to the feeling. When he first meets you, he’s sure that you’re frightened. He restrains from being too close to avoid coming off as overbearing, doesn't want to touch you because if you flinch he’ll be so hurt. He just assumes he disgusts you. Based on the reaction all of his other victims have when they see him, he’s sure you’ll probably be the same.

Once Jason is sure that you don't feel that way, he’s a cuddle monster. He wants to be close all of the time, holding hands, letting you sit in his lap, you name it. He’s so starved and quickly decides that touch is his love language too. He’s not even sure how he’s lived this long without it.

The only time I can see Jason maybe gently sort of setting you down elsewhere and walking off is when he senses strangers on the property of what once was Crystal Lake. He’s out the door before he can even see your hurt expression, Which is worse because this might lead you to jump to conclusions.

If you distance yourself from Jason, he immediately is thrown off. He can’t directly ask you if he’s done something wrong and when he tries to initiate affection with you and you don’t reciprocate whole heartedly, he’s at a loss.

He’ll get on one knee while you sulk on the couch and give you a silent plea to tell him what's wrong. You can panic and try and avoid it but he is certain there's something going on and he wants so badly to know what he’s done to put you off. You tell him and he immediately is shaking his head no, he could never be mad at you, never be disgusted with you. You’re the most breathtaking person he’s ever had the pleasure of holding, the first, most likely.

Jason nods because he understands how you feel. In the future, he’s persistent about how you feel when he untangles himself from you, making sure you’re ok.

Michael Myers:

In the later stages of your relationship, Michael is insatiable when it comes to being in contact with you. For a long time, towards the start of your relationship, he didn’t like it. It felt weird. All of the touch he's experienced prior was so clinical and sterile that he doesn’t quite know how good touch is supposed to feel. He’s so touch starved that he’s almost positive he doesn't even need it.

Slowly, he builds a tolerance for it, much like one does with alcohol, constantly checking his boundaries and letting him control the situation and he’s all for movie night, huddled up on the couch, or waking up with his head on your chest. His own personal pillow.

There are, however, moments when his need to make someone tremble with fear and then blodgeon them to death with a can opener from their own kitchen becomes too strong, so he tries to keep away from you. In the past, he might have used you to satisfy similar desires of a sexual nature and may have really hurt you but he knows that it’s not always enjoyable to you.

Then, you stop touching him. Much like Jason, he starts to think you’ve become sick of him. Sick of his coldness, his muteness, his withdrawn demeanor. Maybe you’ve moved on and he tries to tell himself he doesn’t care but he doesn't think he can see himself touching anyone but you now.

It gets to the point where he comes home one day and you look heavily troubled, expressions he’s seen on your face before, only in the event that something terrible has happened. You ask to speak to him and he obliges.

You explain that you don’t think this relationship is working, that you’re pretty sure he’s disgusted with you and how difficult this event is because you didn't even want to talk about it but it's been hurting you for too long.

His response is to stand up very slowly, pick you up and lay down with you over him, simply laying there. Hopefully, knowing you’re the one person he would ever allow to participate in this intimacy is enough to show you that you mean more than you think you do to him.

RZ Michael Myers:

This Michael is more perceptive to your touch than his counterpart, your touch sends little shivers down his spine and as soon as he gets pretty used to it, he’s eager for more. This also takes some time but significantly less. He’s enamored with the idea of returning to a somewhat normal life. Your affection grounds him in that fantasy as much as being a murderer might take him out of it.

As he establishes a relationship with you, he may even be the one to start touching you instead of the other way around. He’s read books and always wondered what it might feel like to have someone genuinely touch him without fear in their eyes. Without malice.

An unsuccessful ‘day at work’ might have Michael feeling a little het up though. He can be moody and more rageful. Neither you nor his hobbies can calm him. He seems colder than usual in these states and can come off as very standoffish.

So when you try and touch him and he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, he can’t or isn't in the state of mind to address your frown and worried look. Michael, instead stomps off somewhere to be alone for a while; maybe take his anger out on something else. Some unsuspecting soul or maybe even a poor animal in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After he’s calmed down some, he returns and almost forgot about that sad little gleam in your eye before he left. Michael remembers when he sees you blankly staring at the TV, pointedly avoiding his gaze even as you utter a weak welcome home. It’s not very welcoming. He sits stiffly beside you, watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re closed off from him and he doesn't like it at all.

Migrating towards you slowly, he eases you into a familiar hug, his big bear hugs that are a little tight but inviting all the same. His huge torso and long arms seem to swallow you in his warmth. You hardly reciprocate. You look a little surprised. Though he never addresses it verbally, (which is probably better for you) Michael offers a single glance that communicates everything he needs to say. Don't ever think that again.

Thomas B. Hewitt:

Thomas’ self esteem issues and self image are not good. He honestly doesn’t like to imagine what he looks like to other people unless it can be as a threatening man you don’t fuck with. Meeting you, he realizes that it’s good to protect his family but he’d rather you not see him as someone only capable of harm. Tries his best to get the point across that while Hoyt may be adamant that horrible things happen to you, he’s not going to let them.

Thomas has received affection but always a familial affection. A pat on the back from Monty, proud claps to his shoulders from uncle Charlie, and hugs and kisses from his dear Mother. Nothing so foreign as a strangers touch over his arm or a soft embrace.

Unfortunately, Thomas can get reactive when you attempt to touch him without his mask on. He’s absolutely settled on the false reality that you’ll see his face and immediately decide that you never want to touch him again. Interacting with you with his bare face? That's a no for Thomas.

He puts on his mask that covers the scarred skin over his face and you look dejected. He was preparing for you to pressure him but instead finds himself trying to find out why you won’t touch him now. It’s not his face, is it? You respond with your reasoning. Thomas is so confused. How could you think that you disgust him? That he doesn’t want you to touch him?

He’s quicker than the others and immediately sweeps you up into his arms and holds you as close as humanly possible. Feeling disgusting and like some sort of burden is a feeling he’s so familiar with and if he can take it away from you, he will.

Will aggressively initiate touch with you for the next week or so just to solidify the fact that he cares about you and won't reject you just as you didn’t reject him.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is a great cuddle buddy and partner. Hugs are his favorite and he hugs his brother all the time, lifting both Nubbins and Chop Top into the air for some brotherly love. If you’re smaller than them he’s all about picking you up and perhaps a little rough housing with you. He’s careful though or at least there are attempts made to be careful

Bubba, though he could easily spend the whole day doing nothing and everything with you, has work. Chores, butchering. Cooking, and tending livestock. Plenty to do at the sawyer house and he does most of it. Suffice to say there are times when you want to lather attention all over him yet he has to go back to work.

So caught up in work that he doesn't get what's going on til way later, when you’ve had time to stew in your emotions, firmly telling yourself that Bubba is annoyed by you probably. He’s baffled and confused at your silence, your crossed arms. The little furrow in your brow. He can already tell there’s something upsetting you.

Honestly, Bubba is so affectionate I can’t see him being the kind of person even capable of alluding to the fact he might be disgusted by you. How, if all he wants to do is love you? You may bring it up as a joke that you thought he didn’t like you and he almost seems offended. Not like you?

Bubba can squash any feelings you may have about that and then some. He will not let you drown in insecurities, not on his watch. This man will do everything in his power to make you feel beautiful because you really are.

I’m sorry these are super long but thanks for requesting!

#slasher x reader #michael myers #michael myers x reader #halloween #rz halloween movie #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #friday the 13th #thomas brown hewitt x reader #thomas brown hewitt #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer x reader #bubba sawyer #leatherface x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #slashers

[rainbowxmisa]

Could she be... What I've always been waiting for?

Michael Langdon has been a lot of things in his short life; a special boy, the chosen one, a delinquent, a warlock, the alfa, the supreme, the antichrist... But what he believed the most, is that he always has been a monster. Or at least, that's what everyone had made him believe his entire life.

When he arrived at the outpost 3, he still believed it. He was received with a lot of different glances; glances of fear, glances of curiosity, glances of malice… but when he looked at her, he saw a glance full of something entirely different from what he was used to; it was a glance full of kindness. And he wondered why he felt that she was so different from the rest of them.

From that moment, he started to feel curiosity towards her.

It was like she belonged to a different place, but at the same time, it was like she felt at total peace with her surroundings. Everyone at the outpost 3 was dying to get out of there as soon as possible; but on the other hand, she seemed comfortable where she was. Everyone was trying to please him to get a place at the Sanctuary, but not her.

At some point, he started to feel like some sort of magnetism towards her. It was like the universe was trying to tell him to get closer to her; to know her better. And he was happy to oblige.

They shared gazes in the corridors, always accompanied by a sweet smile from her, but it was on his second night at the outpost 3 when he finally chose to approach her. She was playing the piano, lost on that world that looked so entirely hers. He decided to sit on the stairs rather than the sofas to listen to the melancholic tune she was playing, not wanting to disturb her. He observed her, trying to understand why his chest felt so tight every time he glanced at her.

When the song was over and she was about to stand up, she noticed that she wasn’t alone. Her gaze found Michael and she smiled softly.

“Did I wake you up?” she asked concerned.

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about that. I was already awake.” he answered. “Can you play that song again?” Michael asked, approaching her.

“Of course.”

She started playing the tune once more, carefully, like she wanted to slow time with the music, and then, she was lost in her world again. With her eyes closed, she let her fingers roam the keys like they were a second skin for her.

Michael basked on her beauty; on the peace and tranquility she radiated. And in that moment, he wished that his life could be just like that; full of peace… just the two of them.

She played the last part of the song opening her eyes and looking at Michael, always with that sweet smile of hers.

“How’s the song called?” asked Michael.

“I love you.” she answered, making Michael’s heart drum on his ribcage like a thunder.

“Excuse me?” he asked confused.

“That’s the title of the song, ‘I love you’.” she said with a shy smile.

For a moment, Michael thought she was saying that she loved him, and for some reason, he liked the idea.

“Why aren’t you sleeping like everybody else?” asked him, trying to change the topic.

“I like the quiet of the night, even though you can’t know when it’s day and when it’s night inside here.” she said, smiling brightly.

That made him smile. And smiling with so ease was something he wasn’t used to.

He wanted her to rest, but at the same time, he wanted to know her better, and this was the perfect occasion.

“It seems like you don’t like to be surrounded by the rest of the people of the outpost.” he observed.

“I tolerate most of them, I think. But I’ve always liked to be on my own.” she answered, shrugging her shoulders.

Michael related to that, and he understood why she wanted to be on her own in a place like this.

“Then I understand why you roam the outpost like a vampire.” he said with a sided smile, trying to joke a little.

That made her laugh; and with that beautiful and jovial laugh, his heart started to beat faster and faster. He swore his heart never felt more alive until he met her.

“I like vampires, so I won’t complain about that.” she stated proudly.

Michael liked that she was so open with him, like she didn’t fear him like the rest of the outpost. She was like a ray of sunshine, even though he could feel that there was dark inside her, too.

“What else do you like?” he asked with curiosity.

“That’s a tricky question, because I like a lot of things. But I suppose there’s little left of what I used to like, except for one thing: books!” she claimed extending her arms to the big bookshelves that surrounded them.

“Then lucky you to have so many books to read. What books do you enjoy the most?” he was starting to feel that connection towards her growing and growing with each passing second.

“Hmm, I suppose any book with an interesting plot is more than enough for me.” she answered, pursing her lips.

“May I make you a recommendation?” he asked, approaching one of the bookshelves.

“Of course!”

He roamed one by one all of the bookshelves until he found the book he was looking for. He remembered each one of these books like his own hand; he was fond of the memory of this place when it was a school for gifted youngsters. He approached her again and gave her the book in question.

“I really enjoyed reading this book years ago, and I hope you will enjoy it, too.” he said with a little smile.

“What is this book about?” she asked, touching the cover with tenderness.

“Since you like vampires, I thought you may like this story. It’s a story of a vampire falling in love with a human. I don’t want to say too much, but it has a lot of romance and drama.” he explained.

“Sounds interesting, I like it already! I really can’t wait to start reading it, thank you, Mr. Langdon.” she said sincerely.

“You can call me Michael.” he stated.

“Then, thank you, Michael.” she said with a bright smile, embracing the book, and without knowing it; a piece of Michael’s heart, too, making him feel less like a monster.

On his third night at the outpost 3, Michael went back to the library in search of her, knowing very well he’ll find her there. And he wasn’t wrong. There she was in one of the sofas by the fireplace, reading the book he recommended to her.

“Are you enjoying the book?” he asked softly, sitting right by her side.

“I’ve been reading it for hours, I’m loving it!!” she exclaimed with joy.

“I’m glad to hear that.” he answered, proud of himself.

“It’s a beautiful story, but it’s so sad…” she said, looking to him so intensely that he felt her gaze on his very soul.

“What is so sad?” he asked, approaching her a little bit more, enjoying that intimate moment between them.

“That their love is condemned to death. Everyone sees the vampire like a monster, like a beast incapable of love. But they’re wrong. He is capable of love, he’s nothing but a good and caring lover to his future wife.” she explained, her words full of passion and anger.

Michael felt his heart ache with desire and longing. He wished intensely for her to see him like the vampire of the story; someone worthy of love.

“And what do you want to happen at the end?” he asked.

“That they could have a happy life, to prove everyone wrong.” she said with conviction.

Michael knew the end of the story, and he knew she was gonna be upset with it.

“Then better you keep reading it.” he said, feeling a little bit bold and opening his arms so she could be more comfortable reading. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to cuddle a little bit with her.

Hearing her little sobs, he knew she was about to end the book.

“What's the matter?” he asked concerned.

“I can’t keep reading it.” she answered in tears.

“Why not?” he asked, rubbing her arm with tenderness.

“Because my heart hurts.” she explained with grief.

“I told you it was a drama, too. Do you want me to read to you the end?”

“Yes.” she answered, wiping away her tears and passing to him the book.

She cuddled more into him, trying to search more comfort.

Michael started reading with a soothing voice, feeling the quiet sobs of hers in his shoulder where she was hiding her face.

“The end.” he stated softly when he arrived at the end of the story.

“It’s so unfair.” she said so mad at the book.

“It is.” conceded Michael.

“Why couldn't they be happy? Why was it such a crime to fall in love with a vampire? The monster of the story isn't the vampire, it's the people that killed his wife just because they couldn't understand their love.” she said full of rage.

“I guess not everyone has a good heart like you to see that.” he said, caressing her cheek, feeling again his chest tight at the sight of her crying with her heart broken.

“Why everyone is so scared of you?” she asked suddenly, touching the hand that was caressing her cheek, looking right into his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he thought that this was the moment where everything ended; where she finally discovered the monster he was.

“Everyone after their interviews said you were evil, that something was wrong with you. But when I look at you, the only thing I see is someone, that like the vampire of this story, was misunderstood. Someone capable of love, wanting desperately to reach to that light buried inside of him.” she explained, approaching their faces a little bit more.

“And why aren’t you scared of me, too?” he asked, feeling their lips just millimeters apart, wishing she truly meant what she just said.

“Because since the first moment I arrived to this place, I knew I was meant to die, but after meeting you, at least I can do it knowing that you always treated me with kindness, and that I never saw the monster all of them talk about.” she explained with a smile.

Kindness. That was just what he felt about her the first time their glances met. And he really wanted to believe her.

“You’re not gonna die. Okay?” he assured her.

“And why are you so sure about that?” she asked.

“Because you’re coming to the Sanctuary with me.” he stated.

“But you still didn’t interview me.” she said confused.

“Do you think I need an interview to know I want to spend the rest of my life with you?” Michael asked, with their lips impossibly close.

“I don’t know, maybe you needed to know me more before.” she said, trying not to smile.

“We’ll have plenty of time in the Sanctuary to know each other more.” he said, joining finally their lips on a much desired kiss; a sweet kiss full of love and yearning.

After they lost the count of the kisses they shared, she started to feel a little bit sleepy. Michael carried her in his arms to his room. After undressing and getting into the bed, Michael refused to sleep. He used the time to caress her arm and her face with delicacy, basking once more in her ethereal beauty. Tomorrow will be Halloween, and after his plan will triunfaly work, they’ll have the rest of their lives to share in the Sanctuary, finding that peace that he desperately wanted. But not the light though, because the light he always searched inside of him, was lying just beside him.

She was the reason that made him truly believe he wasn’t a monster all along.

He was worthy of love; worthy of her love.

For the one's wondering what song was the Reader playing on the piano, is this one: 'I love you' by RIOPY I was highly inspired by this clip of Skam France where Lucas plays the same song: SKAM FRANCE EP.2 S3: Vendredi 19h34 - Surprenant

I really hope you all enjoyed this sweet and self indulgent story. Michael always deserved better :)

You can also read this story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30491691

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon headcanon #michael langdon fanfiction #ahs apocolaypse #american horror story apocalypse #american horror story #ahs #fanfic #fanfiction #romance #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #love at first sight #michael langdon fluff #outpost michael #outpost michael langdon #misa abadeer

[theshapeofhorror]

Michael Myers in Halloween (1978)

Michael Myers to me is easily the scariest of the 'classic slashers' as well as the most fascinating one. While I love many aspects of the Halloween franchise and particularly of the first movie from 1978, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the main reason for my obsession with it is Michael himself. I really enjoy the line he treads between 'human serial killer' and 'supernatural, driven by some power of evil'. I don't swing either way with this - if they come out in Halloween Kills / Ends and outright state he's just human or he's straight up supernatural I wouldn't mind at all. (As long as it's executed better than in the thorn trilogy!) But I do particularly love Halloween 1978 above all others for the ambiguity surrounding Michael.

There are several little things in the movie that I think 'humanize' him. Little movements and quirks that go against Loomis' statement of Michael as 'emotionless' , without conscience and 'not being a man':

stealing the mechanic's coveralls he is seen wearing throughout the movie; did he do that so nobody would give him a second look and he could stalk/kill more easily?

Michael going back to Haddonfield and his old house when he could have gone anywhere else and start killing there

stealing his sister's gravestone

robbing the store for the mask, knife and rope; with this one I wonder if he got the mask specifically so nobody could recognize him if the police came looking for him or if he wanted to kill wearing a mask again as he did when he killed Judith; either way this one proves he planned on killing and doing other things to his victims (rope) all along

stopping the car when Annie yells after him, although I'm not sure why; maybe he wants to terrify them, maybe he was genuinely pissed off (leaning more towards the first option)

this is a big one: letting Laurie see him while stalking her, he explicitly doesn't even attempt to hide doing all of this, he wants her to be aware of him

how he leans over against the tree while stalking Annie, also how he touches the fence while stalking Tommy; those are SUPER small things but he could stand there without moving like he does in many other scenes so I feel like it does have some (small) significance

he's perfectly capable of following road rules so he doesn't stand out while he trails Laurie and Annie (Annie does notice him in the novel though)

while creeping on Annie he drops the flower pot hanging around; with this one I'm not sure if he did it intentionally to scare her of it happened on accident because he tried creeping closer (for what it's worth: it's an accident in the novel)

choking Annie before slitting her throat, even though she makes a lot of noise that could potentially lead to someone interfering (unlikely, but still); also, with how he's shaking her by the throat by the end, he might have been frustrated at how long choking her took?

I also find his vocalisations while killing very interesting; the only other times he makes sound in this movie is when Laurie hurts him and when he hunts her; first I thought maybe he grunts from exertion but with Bob and Lynda he makes a sound before he even really got his hands on them, so...

also that he always chokes his victims instead of killing them more efficiently / quickly

how he tilts his head after killing Bob, like he either admires his work or finds it curious

also a big one: dressing up as the ghost; he didn't need to do that, he could have just waltzed in there and killed Lynda outright as she was left alone in the house

prepares the 'haunted house' for Laurie, knowing that she'll come over because of the phone call; he enjoys watching her fear and horror and even postpones killing her for that

also, he 'misses' her twice with the knife - seems more likely to me that this was to further scare/torment her before killing her

he seems to feel pain when stabbed by the needle, removes it and falls unconscious

he doesn't fall for Laurie's attempt at making him think she left the house

again, when stabbed in the eye and chest, he seems to be in pain, going so far as dropping the knife and clutching his chest

instead of taking the knife Laurie dropped he chokes her

his facial expression when the mask comes off, and that he immediately puts it back on; also the fact that we even DO get to see him unmasked and see that there's a person underneath that looks pretty 'normal'

Optional Bonus Stage:

In the novel Michael gets a boner from killing and stalking. I don't really know how canon the novel is supposed to be but I don't really want to count this, because the novel also features a very long, very uncomfortably detailed scene of Lynda and Bob having sex while glossing over many of the more pivotal scenes of the movie. I kinda lowkey suspect the writer was just horny. Make of that what you will.

For the dehumanizing aspects:

that he killed his sister when he was only 6 years old

his general way of moving looks really stiff, overly controlled / contained and unnatural

pretty much everything Loomis says about him: that he stared at a wall for 15 years and stopped talking, that he supposedly waited all this time for this specific day he'd break out, that he's blank and emotionless and there's pure evil in his eyes, that nothing Loomis tried could reach him

the way he stalks Laurie, making it seem like he's everywhere at once

the scene where he apparently vanishes in front of Laurie from when she sees him out of her window

the way he carries Annie into the house after killing her like she weighs nothing even though physically Michael doesn't really look like he's all that strong (normal build and height)

how he lifts Bob with only one arm, showing off his inhuman strength again

how quickly he manages to get into Tommy's house when Laurie tells the kids to hide upstairs without Laurie noticing him until it's too late

and obviously that he keeps standing up after sustaining injuries that should either hinder him more (the stabbing from Laurie, his eye) or should straight up kill him (getting shot by Loomis)

The movie keeps interweaving these two different sides to him right up till the end: we get to see him demasked which I think is a very humanizing aspect, especially with how ordinary Michael looks, but then a minute later we see him taking six shots straight to the chest without him dying. I absolutely adore this ambiguous portrayal. I also like many of the other portrayals throughout the franchise, like the more inhuman / supernatural one in Halloween 2 or the more 'human' one in 2018 and the aspects they bring to this character, but the 1978 one fascinates me in a way not many other fictional characters do.

#halloween #halloween 1978 #john carpenter #john carpenter's halloween #michael myers #horror #horror movie #classic #slasher #slashers #am i undercover simping for michael myers with this #yes i am

[sopxhiea]

Comfortable

Alfie Solomons X Reader

| Prompt

  “Please, stop smiling at me like that. I’m not sure what will happen if you keep doing that.”

The room was full of souls: old, young, tired, happy, intoxicated. The weather outside the grand hall contradicted the one outside, there was a cold breeze caressing the branches of the trees while the inside of the velvet walls smelled of hot air and expensive perfume. There were people drinking in one corner, most of the gentlemen and a few youngins were gone to do play with some snow while most of the ladies and their husbands remained in the crowd.

There were merchandisers, rich millionaires and their pretty things, families of two and the old English ones who never missed a party. His eyes traveled across the room, meeting many smiling faces who were obviously too drunk to decipher anything while he passed by them. Bumping into a couple on the last step he took, he apologised for intruding while the music changed into a slower one, giving the young girls a break from swaying their hips a little too hard. 

There you stood with a couple of ladies, chatting about the last art deal you’d made for a very pricey painting. The women around envied you, he could see that. You had worked for yourself and by yourself, not many were capable of doing that even if they were not a ravishing lady like you were. You patted Charlie’s head when he hugged your legs, Grace following him close behind and chuckling at the young boy while you looked at him lovingly.

Your eyes met his across the room, the relief of finding you at last washing over his features while he gave you a smirk, making you chuckle and a hint of blush on your cheeks followed soon after. He started walking towards you, breaking the crowd when he needed to. He was looking extremely fine today, you had to admit. The suit he had gotten tailored for himself was working out for him, he looked sharp and almost a little too dashing. His hair wasn’t in the usual hat hair style, it was brushed back and the tangled texture of his beard was long gone, he had trimmed it down for you.

It had been about a week since you’d last seen him. He had been away on business and you were staying at your old place, you hadn’t sold it yet and it was liveable. It had been your first home after all. You had spent nights filled with wine, books and jazz as a single lady just like you’d done before you’d married him. You still did all those things but now, there was another soul who would accompany you while you enjoyed the down time. It was better, really, to have his hands massage you as you read the book, cyril would curl up next to you and the smell of vanilla candles would fill the house.

He’d been even better than you thought he’d be after you had gotten married. He was a sweet teddy bear before but he’d become someone you’d want to share everything with, things didn’t feel as good if it meant that he wasn’t there to experience it with you. You had joined souls, almost. He would sense your moods, almost pick up on things you were thinking all too well and you knew him like the back of your hand after a year of being married. He was your sweetheart.

You felt his gaze before you felt his touch, locking eyes with him while he smiled at you, making your heart feel giddy. You had never been the one for feeling this way before, it had been only for him up until this point but his actions had way too many effects on you, it was hard to keep up with your hear when he was around. You let Charlie go and he gently touched your arm, pulling you into him a little while he whispered, his perfume filled your nose which got an approving chuckle from you.

“You look absolutely ravishing, luv.” he spoke, lowly and into your ear. You chuckled, your hand meeting his chest while his hot breath caressed your ear.

“So do you..” you said, eyes meeting his while you came to the realisation that you’d had a little too much to drink than he’d said. He didn’t mind, he liked how silly you were when you got drunk.

“I missed you, doll..” he breathed into your ear, he had been quite miserable for the past week without you. The men were getting into his nerves and he usually had you to pull him out of things like that but the last week, all he had was himself and he liked himself much better when you were around.

You gave him a squeeze on his arm, your other hand holding his while he intertwined your fingers. There was no denying that you both were very active on bed, it had gotten particularly heated after you had become his bride, the first three months were practically spent on the bed since he’d never let you go, you had no opposition to that. After the first three months, the sex was carried in wherever you went, sometimes it was his office and other times the car, an empty valley and even a party once.

You could feel his desperation in his voice, he was dying to kiss you again and it was no wonder from the way his eyes sparkled while staring at your lips.

“You’ve been missed too, Alfie...” you whispered into his ear, aware of the effect you were having on him and it turned you on, undeniably so. You heard him gulp when you caressed his bicep, shivers running up and down his body while you just smiled.

It was a party with too many people around, it was risky to do anything. The people around were also of the high class, Alfie didn’t give a fuck but you were very well aware of the fact that both alone and together, you had a reputation to uphold. You gave him an innocent smile while Arthur walked by, smiling at the sight of both of you. The Shelby family wasn’t particularly in love with Alfie but they liked you a good amount.

The slow sing filled your ears, you contently hummed along to the song while his hand found its usual place in the small of your back, never leaving you once. The rest of the party was spent with you talking to him about what you did, he cracked a couple jokes here and there, making you smile. He had missed seeing you smile. You felt his smell all around you that evening, his figure followed you like a lost puppy. You chatted up with a couple of people you found moderately pleasant and Alfie did too, he was good with people and you saw that once again while he stole all the hearts, and not just of the women.

The night slowly came to an end, you were holding the new born of John and Esme in your arms, whispering a lullaby into the baby’s ear while the room was silent, a candle in the distant corner while you moved your body to the melody. The Shelby family and a couple associates remained in the building, and there was also you and Alfie. You hadn’t seen him ever since Tommy and Michael took him into Tommy’s study to discuss business, he didn’t want to go but you’d murmured into his ear that it was alright and he had been long gone since.

When he disappeared, you had started chatting to the people around, seeing who you knew and who you didn’t. Somewhere along the way, Esme and Grace had found you and soon, Ada and Polly followed. You had ended up in a small room with the familiar women, all of them chatting about the people in the next room. You had shaken your head and remained silent, earning giggles from Ada and Polly while you ate instead of talking. Then they’d left the room and it was you, Esme and the baby and that was how you were in the current position you were put in.

She was a beautiful baby girl, maybe too small but adorable regardless. You’d been afraid to pick her up at first with the fear of being too harsh but Esme had given you the baby, put her directly into your arms and had disappeared. You could tell she needed some time off and were more than happy to give her the opportunity. Alfie was looking for you, had been for the past twenty minutes but they were man around who wanted to chat to him, he declined them politely like you’d shown and told them that they would speak another time, wandering off to the big halls of Tommy’s house to look for you.

Your navy dress was flowing on the sides as you swayed the baby in your arms, a few loose strands of hair falling around your face from the low bun you had. The sweet lullaby filled the room, nothing but your breathing and slow whispers could be heard. The candles were around the room, illuminating your face just the right way while your face glistened, a smile on your lips while you rocked the small baby, getting all the baby smell while you could.

Alfie was struck, his heart was running a mile per second. He had never seen you more beautiful. You were singing to the baby slowly while he opened the door, slowly to take a better look and thats when you’d realised he’d found you at last. Having a baby was something you’d spoken about but it had been one conversation at the very beginning of your relationship with Alfie, you didn’t know you’d marry him then. He had imagined, maybe too many times, that you’d someday carry his kids, you’d be the perfect mother just like you’d been the perfect companion and wife to him. He just knew you’d be.

You gave him a small smile while holding the baby still, smelling the top of her head to get the heavenly smell they carried in such an early age. He smiled back, you could see he was stunned but it was hard to pinpoint why. You wanted kids, especially with Alfie but you didn’t know when the timing would be right, or if there would ever be the right time to do such a thing since it was a big responsibility. You knew he wanted them too, he had told you he wanted an army of kids but you didn’t even know if you were capable of getting pregnant yet. You’d been very careful about that until that point.

You put the baby in the crib, giving her one last forehead kiss before leaving the room quietly. You shut the door behind you, slowly to make sure you didn’t make a sound and the whole time, Alfie was watching you with an intense look. He was falling in love with you again. You didn’t say anything when you turned back and found him just an inch away from you, you could feel his breath on your face but that wasn’t what bothered you at that very second, it was the look he had in his eyes, it was full of sorrow and hope and it made you feel like you were drowning.

You shook your head, smiling weakly as he looked at you with the same intense gaze still. Your hands found his shoulders, pulling him back to life while the look in his eyes was still there. A couple seconds passed and an impeccable smile found his lips, he put a kiss on your forehead, taking all your smell in while you held him in place as much as possible, he was a wreck of emotions after seeing that sight.

You spoke lowly while looking at the handsome man before you. “Please, stop smiling at me like that. I’m not sure what will happen if you keep doing that.” your voice was loving but unsure.

He chuckled, a little too loud which made you cover his mouth immediately to keep the baby sleeping. His lips met your hand covering his mouth, kissing it gently while you gave him an adoring look. “You’re just the best fucking thing, ya’ know that, love?” he spoke, lowly into your ear while you kissed his cheek suddenly.

“I have a vague idea.” you said jokingly, gaining silent smile from him while he took your hand in his and walking down the corridor to the big hall.

They walked into the big hall where the remaining crowd sat still, wine or rum in one of their hands while some of them danced in the now empty hall and some just sat together. Alfie’s hands never left yours while his thumb caressed your fingers, feeling the cold material of your wedding ring against his warm skin. He murmured a small goodbye while dragging you out of the place, you waved to everyone before leaving. He was too impatient.

You soon found yourself in the back of a car seat, Alfie said something to the driver before attacking your neck. You muffled your whimpers by kissing him, letting his coat cover your legs when his hands traveled along your upper thighs. He had missed you: your smell, your smile and the small giggles that came of your mouth when he would make a joke. He had missed your touch and your body, the sounds he would erupt from you as well as the sweet hums you would give him. He had missed your voice and your presence, the delicate way you had of easing his pain and nerves and he was going to make sure he remembered each detail of that night.

#IM V BORED #send me asks or some scenario prompts pls #anyway #stay safe and itll be ok #alfie #alfie imagine #alfie solomons scenario #tom hardy alfie #Alfie Solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons angst #alfie solomons smut #alfie x reader #alfie solomons x oc #Tom Hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy fluff #tom hardy x reader #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders alfie #alfie peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders x reader

[chnat0wn]

The Heat that Drives the Light

words: 2, 622

warnings: language, violence

a/n: A few of you wanted a Raymond fanfiction so there it is! I’m not sure where it’s going, but have fun and feel free to share your thoughts!! 

summary: (...) “To pick up Jane. From some filthy pub, I presume?” saying that, Ray felt his hands itch. Not only because of the mentioned dirt, but the thought of her – of Jane – was making him slightly angry.

Of all the people, Ray always has to take care of the person he can't stand the most. And he does that without blinking, because the person is close to his boss.  

(the gif owner)

1.

The night was peaceful and quiet. There was no rain or wind, and the phone hadn’t rang since nearly two hours, which allowed Ray to read a bit. It was too late for a book – Ray’s eyes were sore after all day of work, and his head seemed to be too heavy to think properly. A short article in a newspaper, which wasn’t requiring much attention, felt like a perfect idea to Ray. But the sweet calmness hadn’t lasted for long. When Ray was in a middle of the article, reading about some woman, who was convinced that she is able to contact her deceased husband through their cat, someone called. Ray didn’t want to pick up, but the title “boss” crossed the screen, so he lifted the phone to his ear.

“Ray,” Michael spoke before Ray had a chance to. “I need you to do something for me.” he was talking slowly, but Ray could sense that he wasn’t as relaxed as he sounded.

“Is everything alright, boss?” Ray asked, fixing his gaze in the empty space in front of him.

“Everything is alright,” Michael repeated, again in his own pace. In his mind, Ray was able to see Michael rubbing his fingers one at another. “I just need you to pick someone up from... some place.” he said casually.

Ray closed his eyes, and shaking his head in disappointment, he sighed heavily. He knew who Michael was talking about. He could guess the place as well. “To pick up Jane. From some filthy pub, I presume?” saying that, Ray felt his hands itch. Not only because of the mentioned dirt, but the thought of her – of Jane – was making him slightly angry.

But there was no reaction from Michael to Ray’s words. He had enough of their battles, and the way they were acting around each other. “Can you do that for me, Ray?” 

“Of course, boss. I will take her home.” Ray rubbed his eyelids, slipping his fingers under the glasses he had on. Michael muttered something that sounded like a word of thanks, and then he hung up. The depth, the low volume of his voice meant that Michael was stressed, and probably wanted to keep a secret. Jane was the secret. “Fuck...” Ray sighed deeply, right after his boss got off the phone.

 *

 The pub was, indeed, filthy. And nearly dilapidated. The floor was sticky from the ages of spilled alcohol, and there were scrapes and unidentified stains all over the walls. The scent of sweat, smoke, beer and grease mixed in one, was in the air and sat heavily on every present person, then stayed on them for a long time. But despite all of this, Jane was feeling freely in these surroundings. Not because of the filth or the smell – it was a problem at the beginning, but there was nothing she could not get used to. She liked old bars and pubs for one particular reason; no one cared. All these modern clubs were too much about paying attention on appearance or behave.

“Hey,” Jane heard a voice coming from somewhere behind her back. She turned her head and saw a tall, pale man with a tufts of hair under his nose; she couldn’t tell if it was a moustache, or just an attempt to have one. “Can I buy you a drink..?”

“Thank you,” Jane shook her head. “but I’m good.” she pointed on the almost full glass in front of her. Then she grabbed and brought it to her mouth, looking away from the stranger. The thought of drinking more for someone’s money was tempting, but she knew she had enough of alcohol.

The tall man was still standing next to her. He was looking at her with his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with ya, huh?” he asked with a higher tone. It seemed like all the politeness from the minute before had disappeared now. “I’m offering you a drink and you’re saying ‘no’?”

Normally, they weren’t brave or stupid enough to act like that, and even though he was certainly drunk, Jane saw no excuse for his behavior. In that case, she decided to ignore him.

“I’m talkin’ to you.” he put a hand on her shoulder. Jane reached for an empty bottle, which was standing near, and clenching her fingers tightly around the bottleneck, she hit the edge of the bar counter with it. Right after that, she lifted the sharp-edged part to the man’s face. 

“Exactly,” Jane said, raising her eyebrow. She smirked, but the expression of her face changed immediately; from kind of amused to a serious and a bit angry one. “And if I say ‘no’, I mean the same. Not ‘ask me again’. Just ‘no’.” she explained slowly to be clear. “If I cut you, will it help you to understand that?”

The man must have had much more alcohol in his system which had been giving him bad ideas. He was scared and confused at first, but after a moment he pushed Jane’s hand away and reached to a pocket in his jacked. He got out a small knife. Her mind was slightly dazed from all the portions of beer she had, though her body was acting fast. She leaned back, avoiding the man’s weapon, but when she stood upright, he attacked again. And this time, he succeed. Jane felt sharp pain on the left side of her face, which started to radiating all over with a hot weave. Then, everything stopped. Jane touched the sore place, her cheekbone, and there was blood left on her fingers. She looked up slowly, and fixed her gaze in the man’s face.

“I’m going to fucking strangle you with my bare hands.” Jane said angrily, rather like a little girl than a serious adult. 

As she was about to smash the rest of the bottle on his head first, she suddenly felt a strong grip around her free wrist. Turning around with irritation, she bumped into someone’s chest – hard as a stone. She looked up, and the last thing she had expected was Ray’s face. He seemed unbothered, maybe a little uncomfortable due to being in that specific place and the fact that the bottle was close to his throat now.

“Oh,” Jane opened her eyes wider. “Hi, Ray.” a broad smile was lightening her face, but at that moment Ray couldn’t be as enthusiastic as her. He paid attention to her cheek, but hadn’t said nothing about that.

“What are you doing?” Ray asked. He didn’t want her to answer; he just wanted her to acknowledge that whatever she had planned – it was wrong.

“At this point, I am trying to survive.” she shrugged carelessly.

Ray shifted his gaze from Jane to the man behind her. The man was tall, but not as tall as Ray. He was also much slimmer; Jane hadn’t knew a lot about that, but Ray appeared to be considerably stronger. Even so, Ray crushed that man with a look on his face alone. He seemed unimpressed, but at the same time it looked insanely dangerous – like the calm before the deadly storm. Ray was watching him, as the man was slowly backed down. When he left the building, Ray’s gaze wandered lower. He was still giving the impression of being completely calm, but Jane noticed his heavy breath and clenched lips. “If you want to survive, don’t come to places like this one.”

“Great advice. Impossible to follow, but great advice.” she nodded firmly. She could go like that the whole night, but she felt Ray’s hand tightening on her wrist. She was silent for a moment, watching the unmoved, yet irritated expression of his face. “Real moustache!” she yelled in some kind of excitement.

Ignoring her comment, Ray looked around. He placed his sight on the half-empty glass of beer. “How many of these have you had...” he sighed. He wasn’t even disappointed, just tired. He wished this night to end. “I’m taking you home.”

“That’s very sweet, but-”

“I don’t want to. I have to.” Ray interrupted her gently; he didn’t intend to be rude. He was just a little severe by nature. “Don’t make it any harder.”

Jane was capable of making it harder. But by the look on his face, she didn’t have the heart to annoy Ray more. She was able to appreciate his commitment, even if she didn’t need to be saved.

She stepped back, as Ray let her wrist go. She set the destroyed bottle on the counter, and looked up on the barman who was standing behind it. “Sorry for that, Bobby...” she rubbed the cape of her neck.

“That’s alright, kid. He clearly deserved that.” the barman smiled warmly, so Jane did the same.

She checked if her phone still was in the back pocket of her jeans. “Right. We can go now. I’m getting the front seat!” she added quickly, and then started to run toward the exit.

“No, you are not.” Ray replied, and he went after her much slower, in his own deliberate pace.

“I can’t hear you!”

 *

 Jane looked out the window, when the car stopped. It was dark, but she was sure that she had never seen that area before. They were in a strange place, and even if Jane didn’t feel the fear, she was a bit concerned. “Where are we?” she looked at Ray. He was already out of the car, so she had to do the same to hear the answer.

“I don’t like to leave my work undone.” he said simply. Without revealing more, he went forward.

Jane closed the car door. “If you want to get rid of me, I wouldn’t advise it.” she raised her eyebrows. “I’ll fight back, you know it.” she added, but Ray didn’t stopped.

With a little smile across her face, Jane lifted up her chin to look at the dark sky. The little lights placed on the coping were gleaming with a silver glow. In the center of the city, it was almost impossible to see the stars because of all these street lights. But being here, all it took was to look up.

She could sense that Ray had disappeared somewhere. She wasn’t panicking; she saw the lights in the windows of a near building, she saw Ray’s silhouette as well. She decided to join him, mainly because it was getting colder outside.

Jane walked into a big, definitely old house that must have belonged to Ray. Not because it was old, but he had brought her here. The first room with a high ceiling, apparently the holl, turned out to be so interesting that Jane doubted for a while that Ray was living there. The walls were covered in a cold, subdued shade of turquoise, but the colour still looked too vivid for Ray. Beside that, there were also frames with rather photographs than paintings; one of them depicted the front of a car, the thing on the other one looked like a plane.

“Why...” Jane whispered to herself with some kind of disgust. Then, she looked around. She immediately fell in love with the chandelier that looked like a calmer version of a crystal ones from the twenties. And the persian, maybe russian patterned carpet.

Jane heard a loud grunting, so she turned around quickly. Ray was standing in the doorway placed between those two, ugly photographs. “Are you lost?”

“I was just...” she pointed her finger in random direction, but then she realised that Ray wasn’t interested in her explanations. He wanted to get his work done, as he said earlier. “I’m fine.” she rolled her eyes.

Ray disappeared again, and Jane followed him. They were in the kitchen, and with that lightning, Jane couldn’t tell whether the walls were purple or brown. And this, on the other hand, matched to Ray – to his personality.

“Sit there.” Ray nodded his head at the different room. As dark as the kitchen, but this time the walls were covered with a deep shade of blue. But what caught Jane’s attention were thick, plaid curtains and the dinner table. There were a lot of furniture and decorations, but all of that seemed to be hidden in the dimness.

Jane beheld a first-aid kit in Ray’s hands, so she chose to sit at the dining table because of the best lightning.

“You don’t have to do this.” Jane said, watching Ray as he was unpacking the things he intended to use. “It’s not like I’ll bleed out to death...”

“We have talked about this, haven’t we?” he raised his eyebrows. “I will take you home safely, when I’m done.”

Knowing that Ray would do whatever he had to do anyway, Jane decided to give up. All she could do was to sit there without making a sound. Ray sat down to her left, to be closer to her cheek. Jane wanted to note that it was just a scratch, but she knew it was pointless. So her eyes were wandering all over the surface of the table, trying to find something interesting enough to stick to it for longer.

“Are you going to throw up?” Ray asked. Jane looked at him and shook her head. “In that case, what is it, Jane?”

She was watching him preparing himself. He put a disposable rubber gloves on, which seemed like too much effort for Jane, and he took a cotton pad and a bottle with some fluid in it. “I’m just thinking.” Jane shrugged.

“About what?” his voice was quiet, almost soft. Focused on his task, Ray took a quick look on Jane’s cheek. He might haven’t been interested in her thoughts, but he was still waiting for the answer.

“Who brings a knife to a bar fight...” Jane narrowed her eyes, and Ray closed his own in disappointment. “Unsatisfied with the answer?” she tried not to smile, but failed. “Sorry. I will be quiet.”

Ray applied a few drops of the fluid, which turned out to be a disinfectant, on the cotton pad and brought it to her face. He pressed it gently, and moved across the entire length of the scratch. “Does it hurt?”

“No, I’m a big gir- OH FUCK!” she screamed, when the disinfectant started to working.

Ray smiled slightly with amusement. He put the pad away and leaned towards her a bit, then he blew on the scratch to ease the pain with the cool air. “It that better?”

Jane nodded. She was too tired to talk, and too afraid of it. She thought if she open her mouth, the pain would appear again. She had enough pain for that day.

Ray took the gloves off and started to putting everything back into the first-aid kit. Watching his movements, Jane frowned in confusion. “Wait, won’t we put a dressing on that?”

“No, we won’t.” Ray replied, getting up from his seat. “We will let it breathe, so it can heal faster. If it is alright.”

“It is. You don’t have the ones with animals anyway, so...” she shrugged. She stand up and decided to change the spot. She sunk back into the brown, leather couch in the other part of the room. It was creaking with every movement of her, so Jane just stopped to move. “All these walls are so dark... Why?” she spoke a bit louder so he could hear her.

“Because I painted them that way.” from where he was standing, Ray answered after a while. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?” he stepped out of the kitchen and went to the living room. He found her on his couch – sleeping peacefully with the hair cascading down her face. “Great.” Ray gasped. 

#The Gentlemen #raymond smith

[ziracona]

Sorry if this has been asked before but, I'm really curious about how you would have written Max in the story if he were to be there? He's one of my personal favorite characters and finding redemption stories about him is kinda hard (You have no idea how happy I was when I read Claudette threw him a scarf to stay warm, like yes please; he's a feral child in a killer's body, but please stay warm)

I don’t think I have been, and no problem!

If Max had had a larger role in ILM, I am not 100% sure how I’d have written his perosnality, since I haven’t had to do it yet in-depth, but I know he’d be very angry and both defensive and aggressive towards everything, warry, skittish, hostile. Not bad necessarily, but humans will raise hackles and be ready to lash out and bite if they’ve all they’ve ever known is abuse the same way a mistreated cat or dog would, or like, most any living thing. I think he’s very lonely and unloved, and it’s hard for humans to survive without positive contact and affirmation and physical affection. I mean, if we’re left alone totally, we literally just die. But since his only experience with humans—and his parents/the people who should have loved him most no less—was nothing but danger and abuse and isolation and imprisonment, I think it’d be very hard for him to be approached. Not at all impossible, but man, it is really, really hard to convince someone who’s been through torrential rains of abuse that there’s something else to be given.

I do have ideas on how you could get through, but let me think about personality first. Well, aside from aggressive, defensive, skittish, warry, and hostile, like inborn traits to go along with learned, I think he is a very volatile person. He must be enduring and strong to survive what he did and live, and so determined and tenacious. —Oh! Hang on, big one before I forget. So, I am not a forefront authority in Disability as it relates to narrative, but I know quite a bit and was lucky enough to have a professor whose central areas were Disability, Horror, and Disability in Horror. I don’t know who exactly popularized the idea of Max as having basically a child’s mind in an adult’s killer body, though I think I’ve been told it was one person or story? Maybe it was just a big fandom take. But that’s one of the most prevailing and harmful disability stereotypes, especially for mental disabilities, and horror is a massive offender in general with both disabilities and disorders, and we need to do better & listen to the communities themselves more. I don’t mean this in a harsh way at all—I don’t even know if you meant ‘feral child in a killer’s body’ that way, or meant like, ‘this feral man in a killer’s body is my child TuT’—which is a totally different statement—and even with the former, I know people have had that idea of Max super popularized and are inundated with it, and most people I think just don’t know it’s a very harmful and prevalent stereotype period—I didn’t until I was in my 20s. But I think it’s important to bring attention to it when it’s brought up. Many of the bad things done to people with disabilities come from treating them as not fully actualized humans (I guess I should say ‘us’), and some of those ways are easy to spot, because they’re cruel, and some are harder, because they seem positive. The ‘child mind in an adult body’ is a huge one for disabilities that doesn’t seem awful at first glance, but actually is a huge problem. Unfortunately, human children also get treated by and large as not fully realized humans (as in autonomous & worthy of respect and self-determination—obvs there are some differences that are important, but a child is still an entire ass human & should be respected as such). The painting a physically and mentally disabled character as childlike or mentally trapped as a child is used to control and take autonomy and gravity from our opinions and lives. It’s also just like, not accurate. But the biggest thing is that it takes agency from individuals and paints them as less intelligent, less capable of wanting or pursing more ‘adult’ things [such as jobs or sex or protesting for their rights or having informed opinions on current events and doing something about it], and tries to paint that permanent, life-long dehumanization as a positive thing by making it cute or innofenssive at first glance. While still discounting disabled as kids, passing off autonomy and decisions to their caregivers, and ignoring our status as equal and actualized individuals. Stunted learning or growth or different ways of speaking, moving, and limitations understanding certain things don’t actually make disabled people like children. They’re just adults who sometimes have some very different ways of speaking or thinking or seeming or being. But it’s super important that we’re still adults and like, have the actualized self of adults, even if our speech patterns seem weird. There’s a huge and extremely important difference between an adult with social hangups around sensitive areas and social norms, and being a child. If you didn’t know any of that, don’t feel too bad, again like, people who aren’t disabled almost never talk about disability theory or issues, and I didn’t know this till I was in my 20s. But I feel really bad for Max and bad about how he is usually characterized, so it is important to bring this up.

Okay! That all said, I think personality wise, Max would be really fun to write. Because you have two levels—you have the taught things—fear, aggression, etc, and his inborn perosnality. There is very little canon about Max, but we know he never left home after freeing himself, he steals clothes from scarecrows or whatever he can find, and he’s probably in his early 20s or maybe to his mid 20s now. Since he never left home, I’d think he’s probably a little more cautious and anctious by nature, even with all that rage. I think he’d be sentimental if he ever was given something to love. He must have attachment to things pretty easily, and would I think have liked people a lot because of that, if life had been different. Would have been a shy but friendly and hopeful farm boy. Now, he’s kind of a broken mess, sadly. He’s had it super pounded in by family he is worthless and horrific and disgusting and a monster and an abomination, so I think he expects all humans to take one look and violently feel the same towards him. Taught humans are cruel, and he isn’t safe with them, and the only thing that will stop them and protect himself is unchecked aggression.

So, when it comes to like, getting close enough to him to redeem him, it’s rough, because again, he’d be very very aggressive. I mean, even after killing his parents, he mutilated the animals on the farm in rage, and continued to viciously hurt and then kill anything living he could find on the farm, so he’s got a lot of danger, and he really leaned into violence to protect himself. It’s what he knows now. I think he’s still lonely — like, so lonely he’s sick with it — but unlike Anna and Michael, he’s never known love, so I don’t think he’s even aware of that, and it’s on a pretty subconscious level. Plus, he has even less understanding of human communication and rules and gestures than the other feral killers, so it’d be really hard to get through to him. I think about the only plausible way is really, really, really fuckin slowly, through repeated gifts and kindnesses for no reason (like Claude with the scarf but every day for three years)—the same way you’d try to get through to a feral cat, since like other living things, humans also are wary and mistrustful when hurt, but can be socialized into new situations and do have a pretty set list of gifts and actions we appreciate. I mean, if I was feral, I would start to soften if repeatedly left chocolates and big warm coats and picture books to look at, pretty rocks. I have a crow heart.... >.> Or, the much more likely option, you’d have to catch him or find him captured and helpless, and then be kind instead of doing anything bad at all, and help him for a somewhat extended period of time, nurse him back to health or such, so he’d be forced to actually realize this person isn’t trying to hurt him—they’re trying to help.

I think Max would get less hostile slowly and cautiously because like, if you’ve ever been horribly abused you know you’re afraid to be hurt again. But also, if you’re alone, there’s a battle between wanting some kind of constact and love, and the fear of trying to trust someone only to be brutally torn up again and cast aside. It’s a painful place to be. But I think once he made it over that initial trust hurdle, and could bring himself to stop shuddering at a touch and to believe the person helping him was just trying to give him food, not poison or something to choke on, he’d be absolutely overcome, becuase if you’ve never been shown kindness and then are, overwhelmingly, it’s really hard to process. There’s a lot of psychology stuff about how we form our understandings and processing of each other and the world that I’m not gonna go into much bc convoluted, but it’d be like the opposite weirdly of a Just World break. The realization some things are less awful than your cemented life understanding structure. It would feel wrong and be hard to process (and rewireing a brain takes some time), but he’s been so alone for so long, I think the longing for people would get through, and he would cautiously start to trust and be just bowled over and kind of intimidated by the strength of like, the love and affection and gratitude and belonging he’d start to feel. I think he’d be afraid, becuase it’s not how life is meant to go, and jumpy, but he’d also just be lost to the happiness of actually having some kind of positive human connection, and become fiercely protective of whoever (or whichever people) was/were helping him. Got something he doesn’t want to lose now.

He’s young, so he’s going to still be figuring stuff out, and he had an awful upbringing, so lots of confusion and anger and un-learning too, but I’m really glad you liked that scene!! 😭 and that you like Max too, because he needs more love. I like him a lot too, that’s why he ends up with an undetermined fate instead of, like, dead in ILM. I’d like to give him a fully story role sometime, when there’s more space for it. He’s such a complex and unfortunate guy, he deserves a chance to grow more right and find people who are different and have a better future. TuT. It ain’t fair how his life was.

#ask #anonymous #dead by daylight #the hillbilly #in living memory (fic) #in living memory #max thompson jr #sorry if this didn’t answer all you wanted it was getting so long I was starting to sweat nervously >.> #but hope you enjoy it & the mini introduction to disability theory stuff—it’s super fascinating you should check some of the writing out #sometime! especially since there’s so much history there with horror ahhh now I want to go read...academic writing? gross wtf is wrong with #me TuT I’ve become my own enemy I lived long enough to occasionally wish to read academic papers bleah #*bleah lol

[echo-bleu]

Family

Cactus Soulmate AU continuation. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

[brief mention of war, alcohol]

“Alex!”

Isobel watched the young woman, her soul flowery and red and a soft yellow at the center, run from behind her bar and jump into Alex's open arms.

“Maria!” he laughed, bracing himself against a table to hug her. “It's so good to see you.”

“How are you doing? How long are you back? Introduce me to your friends,” Maria fired rapidly, not leaving him any time to answer. Alex just waited until she was done and started introducing them and talking about his life on Antar.

It had been six months, since Isobel had taken Alex to their ship to meet Michael. Alex had settled almost smoothly on their native planet, finding a job in military security that he could mostly do from home. He and Michael still couldn't be more than a few yards apart, but they'd adapted, and neither of them seemed overly bothered by that fact. They still behaved like newlyweds. They'd moved in together without hesitation, just days after meeting each other−but such was the power of soul bonds.

Alex had regular contact with his friends back home, and as soon as they could all take some vacation time, he'd asked to go back. He didn't miss Earth, not exactly, but so many things were different on Antar, and he sometimes confided in Isobel that he felt homesick. He never told Michael that, though. Michael abandonment issues tended to shine through whenever he was reminded that his soulmate wasn't even from the same planet, and he'd close in on himself, or go on a bender.

The fear that Alex would one day leave him couldn't even be assuaged by the fact that they physically couldn't handle being apart. So here Michael was, standing beside Alex as he introduced him to his human friends−Alex's other best friend Liz had shown up in the meantime−looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.

“Michael, can you at least pretend to be happy for him?” Isobel murmured in her brother's ear. She didn't like Earth anymore than she had last time they were here, but it had brought them Alex. A light in their life, truly. The end of years of misery and longing for Michael, and a great verbal sparring partner for Isobel. Even Max had found a friend in Alex.

“Sorry,” Michael deflated. “I'll try.” This was important to Alex. After taking him away from his planet for six months with barely any warning, they owed it to him to give him this. After this week, he probably wouldn't see his friends again for another six months or more.

They all settled around a table, as Maria brought them beers. Max and Liz took one look at each other, and their souls did a smooch and melted with each other. Well, that was another thing taken care of−or maybe another issue to deal with? Isobel watched them with a good dose of envy. She wouldn't find another soulmate. Not after what Noah did to her, using her body and her mind. It wasn't unheard of, having several soulmates, but finding one was rare enough, and even then, Isobel didn't think she was capable of loving with her soul anymore. Now with how damaged it was.

The people of Earth, if nothing else, were refreshing in the way they didn't avert their eyes when they saw her. They couldn't see souls, according to Alex. Everyone on Antar knew what had happened to Isobel at a single glance−killing your own soulmate left a recognizable mark.

Although the strange, sympathetic look on Maria's face when she met Isobel's eyes told her that maybe not all humans were the same.

Isobel didn't pay attention to the people going in and out of the bar until Alex looked up at a man who walked in with a surprised expression on his face.

“Kyle?”

“Alex? Wow. It's been a long time.”

Alex huffed. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Ten years, uh?”

“Guys, this is Kyle Valenti,” Alex introduced. “Kyle, this is Michael, Isobel and Max. You already know Liz and Maria.”

“He was in high school with us,” Maria explained.

“Are you guys−” Kyle hesitated.

“We're Antarian,” Isobel said. Their clothes, more than their appearance, distinguished them.

“I meant−” Kyle tried again. “Are you−” he gestured between Alex and Michael, who had an arm around Alex's waist.

“Yes, we're together,” Alex confirmed. “That gonna be a problem?”

“No, of course not! I'm not like that anymore,” Kyle raised his arms in defense. “Really, I'm sorry for all I said back in high school. I was stupid.”

“Um. Okay,” Alex said a little doubtfully, but he seemed to choose to let it slide. “Michael's actually my soulmate. The alien way.”

“So you got yourself an actual soulmate? I knew you were hopelessly romantic, but not that much, Manes!”

The three Antarians in the room froze.

“Manes?” Michael almost squeaked. On Antar, people didn't have last names. To them, Alex was just Alex. They'd never even thought to ask for his full name. “Manes? That's your last name? Like the Manes who try to destroy us?”

Alex looked horrified, and so did the other humans around the table, sensing disaster. He shook his head in desperation. “No, no, no,” he murmured. Isobel was stuck between feeling sorry for him and horrifically confused.

“Alex,” Michael's voice had gone cold. “Answer the question.”

“Yes,” Alex said through gritted teeth, meeting his fate with his head held high, once the moment of shock past. “Jesse Manes is my father.”

“You're the son of the general who campaigns to kill us all?” Max asked, as Michael was too gobsmacked to continue the interrogation. Isobel just didn't know what to do. There was no way someone with a soul like Alex's could be that evil, and he clearly had shown none of it. But then maybe humans could hide their true nature, she couldn't know for certain. Was he some kind of spy?

“He is the man who gave birth to me,” Alex explained. “Doesn't mean I agree with him. He hates me, and everything I represent. Having an alien soulmate is just one of these things.” He turned to Michael. “You know I don't think like him.”

Michael shook his head. “How could you hide this from me?”

Alex sighed. “I wasn't exactly going to introduce you,” he answered slowly. “You're my family, not him.”

“You still chose not to tell me.”

“Yes. And I'm sorry. I have nothing to say except that...I was afraid of what you'd think of me.”

“And what am I supposed to think, now that I know you lied to me?” Michael spat.

“I didn't−” Alex started. I didn't lie, Isobel fills in the blanks. He just never spoke about his family at all. “I'm sorry.”

He made a gesture toward Michael, but Michael stood up brutally. “I need some space,” he said.

“Okay,” Alex murmured miserably. “When you're ready−”

“We'll see.”

Alex nodded, biting his lip. He watched Michael walk away to the bar and order a stiff drink from Maria, who'd just gone back to work.

“You guys−” he started toward Isobel and Max. Isobel looked at Max, letting him decide. She had her own opinion, but she would follow her brother's lead on this. She'd been the one who found Alex, after all. If it went pear-shaped, it would be her fault.

Max was still wrapped up in his sudden love, but he looked at Alex critically. “I believe that you're not like your father. I don't like that you didn't tell us, but you're entitled to a private life, at least with us. If you make things right with Michael, I don't have an issue with you. If you hurt my brother again, on the other hand−”

“Thank you,” Alex murmured.

Isobel caught his eyes and nodded. “He'll come around,” she said. Michael was hot-headed, but he wasn't a fool, and his love for Alex was deep. They were soulmates. That couldn't just go away.

Isobel looked between Michael, sitting at the bar, and Alex, with an apologetic Kyle Valenti at the table near the back wall. She didn't have the precognition gift some of her people developed, but she could almost feel another disaster coming. She expected a fight, maybe, from the dark looks Michael was sending Valenti and the amount of alcohol he was ingesting. Of course the bars in Roswell, the point of first contact, would have acetone on tap.

She absolutely did not expect Michael's tongue down Maria DeLuca's throat. Maria only leaned into the kiss for a second, but the harm was done.

Alex saw it at the same time she did, and she didn't get a chance to do something. He stood up, looking gobsmacked for a moment, then absolutely devastated. Hesitantly, he took a few steps toward Michael, then just shy of touching him, his face turned resolute. He mentally grabbed at their linked souls and pulled.

There was a horrible screeching sound that made Isobel want to clasp her hands over her ears. And then, as quickly as it had started, it was all over, the bar suddenly quiet. Michael crumpled on his bar stool. And Alex…

Alex was gone.

#roswell new mexico #malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #isobel evans #maria deluca #liz ortecho #max evans #roswell nm fanfiction #soulmate au #i'll go hide now #mine #echo's fanfiction #cactuses

[xumos-hoe]

Can I get a mlqc bois reacting to Mc almost drowning? Cause it’s canon that my girl can’t swim

ya girl can’t swim either😩 Hope you enjoy!!!

MLQC crew reacting to MC almost drowning

~~~~~~~~

Victor

(Let’s pretend that swimming lesson date never happened!)

So one of the perks of having a multi-million dollar penthouse was the indoor pool inside of it.

He thought it’d be nice for the two of you to go swimming together and clear your heads from all the stress of work.

What he hadn’t anticipated was you not being able to swim.

You were self-conscious about not being able to swim while Victor was literally mf Michael Phelps—so to impress him, you hopped into the pool to show him you were capable of swimming

Big. Fucking. Mistake

Because not only had you took that leap of faith to swim when you couldn’t, you even jumped into the deep end where Victor was.

As soon as the water crashed over your body, you regretted everything immediately.

“VICTOR!” Your limbs were flailing helplessly as you tried to remain afloat but that seemed to only drag you down further. You tried to call out for help, but your voice was drowned out by the water. Complete dread and fear filled your heart as you quickly realized your circumstances.

You weren’t sure if Victor had heard you, but you felt yourself sinking further and further into the water. The ceiling above became hazy and soon disappeared all together as the water submerged you entirely.

There was distant yell, but you weren’t so sure. Waves crashed from above as you could make out the faintest touches of skin against the water.

Someone grabbed your arm, hoisting you out the pool immediately. Victor.

You coughed up water as soon as he laid you back on the ground, the cold tiles brought you back to reality immediately.

Droplets of water fell to your face as Victor looked down at you, the most concerned he’d ever looked—but also, the most angry.

“What the hell were you thinking to swim if you can’t???”

Maybe it was the water and the effects of chlorine, but his eyes were turning red and glassy.

“I’m...sorry...”

Victor didn’t even answer. He scooped you from the ground and pulled you straight into his arms, tight as though he was trying to draw every last breath from your lungs

“Don’t pull that ever again...I thought I almost lost you...”

Lucien

A new pool opened up in the city that allowed private rooms with pools to be rented for couples.

Lucien thought this was a great idea and rented one for the two of you on the weekend. He was excited to go swimming, and you didn’t want to rain on his parade, sO you went along and decided you’d try your best and swim.

It was cozy and warm and secluded for just the two of you. Lucien swam like an expert while you watched nervously from the sidelines.

“Can’t swim?” He noticed immediately when you refused to join him inside.

“I can,” you lied. “Just a little tired.”

Doubt flashed in his features before he stepped out of the pool to grab something.

When you were sure he was gone, you carefully stepped into the pool’s shallow end.

This was fine! The water came up to around your elbow, but instead, you tried your luck and swam further in before you realized you’d stepped into the deep-end completely.

Panic filled your mind as you tried to swim away from it, but the more you moved, the more the water kept drawing you back.

That turned into a horrifying cycle of trying to fight the waves but getting pulled in the more that you tried. You shouted Lucien’s name as loud as you could but it was useless the more you felt yourself sink underneath.

It was becoming darker and colder until someone was finally at your side, snaking an arm around your waist as they picked you up from the pool.

Lucien was panting as much as you were. His heartbeat filled your ears as he sat you down on the ledge, concern lacing his features. “Are you alright?”

You were trembling but managed to nod as you coughed up some water—but Lucien continued, almost angrily. “Why would you swim if you knew you couldn’t? Do you know what could’ve happened?”

You lowered your head dejectedly, humiliated. He reached out to push your wet bangs aside and place a kiss on your forehead, his anger melting away immediately.

“If you really want to get in the water, hop on my shoulders.”

Kiro

Kiro was shooting a tropical themed music video in Miami, so you tagged along for a mini-vacation.

One evening after the shoot, he took you to the near-empty beach to enjoy some alone time without mobs of fans bombarding your vacation.

“C’mon! The water is still warm!” Kiro grabbed your arm and pulled you into the water with him excitedly.

“Wait! Kiro! I can’t—!”

You tried to pull away, but instead, you slipped straight into the water as soon as a wave came crashing over you.

Water filled your mouth and ears immediately, turning all sound into distant gurgling. You tried to take in a breath, but began panicking even more when all you sucked in was the salty waves.

Since sound was so distorted, you couldn’t hear the way Kiro shouted you name, swimming quickly to your side and pulling you back onto the sand. He was saying all sorts of apologizes for dragging you into the water when you couldn’t swim, but you were too focused on expelling all the water from your lungs.

“MC!? MC!? Please be okay...!” He loomed over you, preparing to perform CPR before you waved an arm to let him know you were alright.

A loud sigh of relief filled your ears as the concern slipped away from his features, but his hand moved along your back to calm your fits of coughing.

When the color returned to your face, Kiro pulled you into a hug. You didn’t anticipate the tears falling from his eyes and he apologized over and over again.

“I’m so glad you’re alright...”

Gavin

The Loveland SWAT was holding an annual pool party for the officers and their dates, so Gavin asked you to accompany him.

Although you couldn’t swim, at least the party would have good food and a good atmosphere, so you agreed.

The pool was packed with beefy officers and their significant others. Gavin was in discussion with some colleagues, so you sat and waited by the poolside for him.

The sunlight felt comfortable and warm against your skin as you kicked the water with your legs contentedly.

Unfortunately, your peace was short lived.

Someone came up behind you, and although you weren’t sure if it was accidental or purposely, somehow you were shoved into the pool, screaming as you fell in.

The water submerged you completely as you kicked and tried you absolute hardest to keep your head above the surface, but you just kept on falling deeper in.

For a party full of officers, it didn’t take as quickly as you thought for someone to come to your rescue.

Gavin’s familiar grip was around you in seconds, pulling you out effortlessly as another officer waited by the surface to sit you back where you were originally. You trembled violently, coughing up water as your eyes stung from the onslaught of chlorine.

Gavin was shouting orders, but with all the commotion and your current state of mind, you didn’t hear what he was saying. A cozy towel draped around your figure as Gavin lifted you from the ground bridal style, away from the pool and onto a nearby hammock.

He held your hair back as you coughed some more, trying your best to manage any sort of air into your lungs. “MC, listen to me—are you alright?”

You nodded vigorously, expelling the last of the water from your airway as Gavin crouched beside you, holding you close.

“Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t swim—do you know what could’ve happened if I hadn’t noticed you in time?!”

“I fell in by accident...”

Gavin clicked his tongue and wrapped his arms around you.

“You’re staying as far away as possible from that pool. Next time—let me know about these type of things before either of us have to suffer for it.”

#mlqc #love and producer #mr love: queen's choice #otome games #mr love headcanons #mlqc headcanons #mlqc fanfic #mr love victor #mr love kiro #mr love gavin #mr love lucien #mlqc victor #mlqc kiro #mlqc gavin #mlqc lucien #elex games

[bittermarrow]

What would Michael, Jason, and Brahms be like with a demon s/o (I.e. horns, fangs, claws, wings, tail)?? Saw the one with an angel s/o and couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like with a demon.

A/n: Sure thing! I’ve been meaning to do something like this after all. These got so long what the fuck? They might be a little long for headcanons, but I’ll still refer to these as such.

Warnings: Some NSFW.

.   .   .

Michael Myers

He’s initially quite skeptical of your existence, perhaps some hallucination or something his mentality had altered to make you appear demonic.

Of course, he eventually finds out that you are indeed real, and are most certainly dangerous. You will be considered a major threat to him for a long time, he will have trouble trusting you, regardless of how hypocritical it sounds.

Religion is not at all a factor considered in his initial mistrust of you, Michael doesn’t process Christianity— or really care the way others might, so he’s not going to throw crosses at you and give you a Jesus speech.

He is threatened by you, which is why it will not sit well with him in the beginning.

Michael grows attached to you though, his intrigue drove him to stalk you, your lack of fear in any of its forms of him drew him in and boiled his blood at the same time.

Your shadow is an interesting silhouette. Pointed horns grew from each side of your head, a tapered, forked tail worked as an extra prehensile limb. Your wings reminded him of the bats he’d read in animal books as a kid, semi-transparent skin and veins in each flap of skin and the thin bones that lined the shape and reinforced its strength.

Even the way you spoke struck his curiosity, sometimes it sounded like you were talking with two different voices at the same time. Your two-toned voice dragged out through sharp-pointed teeth that he’d watched tear into the flesh of one of his victim’s neck, and rip the arteries from their throat in attempts to protect him.

You were much like a willing pet. You were his guard dog of sorts, following him around even after he had discovered you doing it. If any of his victims somehow got the upper hand or posed a big enough threat to his well-being, he could expect you to take over the situation.

You became less of a pet once Michael began to see you more like a romantic interest rather than a safety blanket, and it did not take long for his attraction to you to form. Whether it be purely sexual or Michael’s form of caring for you is completely up to how much mutual interest you reflect back onto him.

He certainly does enjoy your biological differences, your increased strength challenges him and he liked fighting for your submission almost as much as simply receiving it. Also, your fangs brought out a lot of his kinks related to receiving pain in the bedroom, his neck is particularly sensitive, so any bites in that area will elicit vocal responses.

Michael also likes how it isn’t easy to break you, so he can be rougher with you without worrying about harming you too badly.

When you slept together there was always one of your demonic limbs wrapped around him. Your wings sometimes laid over him or you allowed him to lay on them, despite the fact that normally they remained closed. Your tail was always wrapped around his leg, even if you were just sitting close to him, your tail was quick to latch onto one of his limbs.

Your fierce protectiveness, although unnecessary and sometimes unwanted, is admittedly something he secretly enjoys, gets off of even if he’s in one of his extremely rare submissive moods.

Jason Voorhees

Jason hasn’t been in touch with anything centered around religion for a very long time, and he will be the least likely to even know the proper term for you. He’s not going to think “demon from hell”, or “spawn of Satan” when he first encounters you.

So, does he throw holy water at you? No. Does he consider you a huge threat? Oh yeah, definitely.

Jason had never come in contact with someone he couldn’t kill, you were stronger than anyone he’d hunted and faster than anyone he’d chased. And… you weren’t afraid? You were laughing— as you were running! Did you like him chasing you? It reminded him of when the other kids would play tag at camp, he was always left out but he’d always wanted to try.

The way you’d slow down on purpose, not bother to use your wings, and called his attention to you whenever he lost track of you really sold the idea that you wanted to play with him; like it was a game. Jason embraced his inner child for the first time in a long time, and when you’d started coming to visit him in the forest even after finally outrunning him, he was smitten.

You come to play games, talk to him, and even help him track down teens that managed to evade his rage. Although he doesn’t like you risking your life for him, he understands that you are very much capable of holding your own. And it really touches him, because the only other person who’d ever protected him was his beloved mother.

Your demonic attributes didn’t really have a lasting impression on him after he got used to you and your strange appearance. Sharp tapered horns, dark, curled bat’s wings, forked tail and razor-like teeth and claws that scared others barely phased him. Especially after you told him that you were discriminated and loathed for the way you looked.

Jason knows firsthand what isn’t feels like to be loathed and teased for what you look like, because of this he has an alarming amount of empathy for you. He was at least human for a short time, you were never human, and it wasn’t your fault that you were born to be what your peers called a monster.

The only thing Jason thinks is even slightly monstrous about you is the way you kill, but he does that too, and you only do it to protect him. In his eyes you can do no wrong, he puts you on a level almost equal to that of his mother, who he religiously believes can do nothing even remotely bad.

You have some tendencies that do confuse him sometimes though. Whenever you’re not out doing your own rounds or hunting for food you are practically attached to either him or someplace high, like trees, beams, and windows. You like to sit in elevated places and curl up around things much like an actual bat would.

Oftentimes times you just latch onto his back and hang there as he walks you around the woods or goes on his patrols. Your tail is almost always coiled around one of his legs, arms, or waist when you are close enough proximity, so you’re rarely not touching in some sort of way.

Jason loves the attention and practically absorbs your affection so it’s never a problem.

Jason is very inexperienced with intimacy, and it takes a lot of trust-building, reassurance, and telling him that sex isn’t always bad as long as you love each other and you want it. But once you start Jason finds himself liking that you are tough and that he never has to worry about being too rough or hurting you. More than you want him too at least.

Jason’s also naturally submissive, and actually likes you to have dominance over him in the bedroom, so your strength will become very attractive to him. Your stamina rivals even his though, sometimes he’s the one that has to tap out! Jason’s a sweetheart though, and will always make sure you’re satisfied even if he can’t be inside of you to do it.

He’s also incredibly sweet and cherishes you close to his heart, so he strongly prefers slow and sweet lovemaking. So if you can sit still long enough, and are alright with easing up on the biting, clawing— no matter how much he might actually like it sometimes, he’d be overjoyed to show you that he loves you in his way. No matter if your a demon, an angel, or a purple frog, you’re you.

Brahms Heelshire

This pussy bitch is scared. You just showed up at the Heelshire estate one night, seeking shelter from the rain long after Brahms’s episode with Greta.

He sees you and flips, hiding in the walls and watching you with paranoid and ever observant eyes through mirrors, cracks in the drywall, and closets. You got the image of a demonic being exactly, and since Brahms was brought up in a very religious family, he is conditioned to mistrust you.

If not for religious reasons, simply because Greta left some holes after she left him, he’s angry at what happened, angry at Greta for abandoning him. But he is also so fragile, still harboring the emotional weakness of a young child, and that you can work with.

The weather doesn’t let up for several days, so you inevitably are forced to stay in the Heelshire’s quiet, ‘empty’ house a little while longer. Brahms found out that you had been injured upon arriving, and he’d watched you tend to painful looking wounds the first night you stayed. You must’ve been attacked.

The more he watches you, the less afraid he becomes, and the more he begins to enjoy your presence.

You aren’t loud, destructive, or viciously feral like the demons and children of Satan, he’s read about. You were rather docile compared to the many ravenous interpretations of hellspawn Brahms was taught about. You seem to be lonely, cautious of every creak he might accidentally cause in the floorboards or walls.

You always appear to be sad too, sometimes you walked by mirrors and stared at your reflection like something (or everything) about it distressed you. Brahms couldn’t understand why. You were very pretty. Aside from your non-human horns, long bat-like wings that scrunched up against your back, your thin, forked tail, and sharp teeth— you looked relatively human.

Before you had the chance to leave, Brahms introduced you to the doll. He left it out in the open where he knew you would find it, your reaction was unexpected and almost a deal sealer.

You didn’t show any fear towards it, only intrigue, as your clawed fingers gently traced the doll’s porcelain features. You looked at the list of rules clipped to a clipboard at its side, and even more surprisingly, you stayed. You cared for the doll to your best ability despite the oddness of the situation.

You assumed whoever was in this house with you was offering you a place to stay as long as you followed those rules, and that you didn’t question. No one had ever tried to house your kind, you are grateful for the opportunity. But as time goes on you begin to feel like you are not the only one in this house.

You aren’t stupid. With your heightened senses, you can hear every creak, footstep, and heavy breath. Someone has been watching you since day one and you silently hope that one day they will reveal themselves so you can thank them properly.

The moment Brahms finally crawls out of the wall you are probably trying to leave, perhaps feelings cooped up or wanting to visit a friend, and he doesn’t let you go. In spite of your shock and mild mortification that this human had been watching you, you managed to assure him that you would stay and care for him.

You turn out to be the not only the perfect caretaker but also someone he starts to develop romantic feelings for, the kind he hasn’t felt since Greta gave him a run for his money.

Brahms often comes to sleep with you if he has nightmares or simply wants to snuggle up with you and your inhuman warmth. Your body heat is much warmer than the average human, so you’re practically his own personal heating system, especially during the winter months.

Brahms wonders if the books he’s read about demons being foul, heartless creatures should be re-written.

#michael myers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #michael myers headcanons #jason voorhees headcanons #brahms heelshire headcanons #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #slashers #slasher imagines #demon!reader #michael myers #jason voorhees #brahms heelshire #Friday the 13th #the boy 2016 #halloween 1978 #halloween 2018

[patricianandclerk]

Gabriel inviting himself to tag along to Pride WITH AZIRAPHALE. Obviously this is a great chance to bond! And Aziraphale has no idea how to explain that this is more of a thing he would like to do with Crowley, because when he tries to say that, Gabriel just agrees that the three of them will have a good time and that this is an excellent opportunity for him to try to find some common ground with Aziraphale's demon boyfriend. (1/2)

(2/2) Aziraphale is a quiet gay and he really just wants to look at things a bit, hold hands with Crowley in public at long last, and go home early to read, but Gabriel wants to see EVERYTHING, and he wants to see it as a GROUP! Then Gabriel finds out this is an annual event, and the color drains from Aziraphale’s face when he says next year he’s bringing all the archangels. (with all the glitter, they could get away with letting their gold show through…)

honestly, especially because of Aziraphale’s me-me-me syndrome, like…

He finds it so hard, at times, to envision, to understand, how others are feeling, and I think a lot of the time he tends to make so many assumptions based on his own insecurities or his own gigantic ego, and like… 

He does this with Crowley a lot? And it isn’t him trying to be unkind! It’s just one of the ways he protects himself - he tells himself that Crowley isn’t a real demon, or otherwise Crowley couldn’t be his friend, and Crowley is his friend, he loves Crowley; simultaneously, he knows that Crowley is a demon, and that therefore, Crowley doesn’t really love anybody, he can’t love anybody, and therefore if Aziraphale goes around with him, he doesn’t have to be Good, he doesn’t have to be Perfect all the time, he can relax. These two things obviously contradict one another, but they’re also not accurate to Crowley himself - Crowley is a demon, and he is capable of love. These two things exist simultaneously.

But I think that Aziraphale struggles so, so much to see things in shades of grey - coming from Heaven, I think he forced himself into even more black and white thinking than he otherwise would have, because he was genuinely so terrified of doing anything Bad, so he had to recreate everything in a binary of Good and Bad, and no matter what he does, he needs to rationalise it as Good, because if it’s Bad, that means that Aziraphale is Bad, and he can’t handle being Bad.

And Pride?

Pride is Good. Pride is for people who are so trodden down by their society, who have to fight for merely their right to be themselves, and it’s this beautiful, explosive thing where he can be himself, where everyone around him is doing the same - there’s no need to hide anything, there’s no need to shove everything into the back of a closet, there’s no need to be in fear, because there’s solidarity here. 

And I’ve talked a lot about book Aziraphale, and how similar I think his experience is to the gay one - about how Heaven as a monolith seems to treat him as a confusing, embarrassing inconvenience, how he can come back into the fold at any time so long as he stops being Like That, about how cold everyone is with him, about how they can sense something Off about him because his strangeness, his humanity, is too obvious, like many gay people who without meaning to be are obvious to their families. TV Aziraphale I see as a very different duck, just because like… with the angels, they strike me as concerned, weirded out, uncertain of everything he’s talking about, and every much like… not about it, but the thing is…

The angels don’t come across to me as people who do have faith in the Almighty. They don’t come across, either, as like… truly dogmatic individuals who are out to, you know, hurt each other, hurt other angels, just for the sake of it?

When it comes to Aziraphale’s execution, it comes from a place of fear, I think - there’s a reason it happens privately, with just a handful of the angels who already knew, rather than in front of a crowd like with Crowley’s: they want to shove this evidence of further rebellion (like the first Fall of all the denizens of Hell) under the carpet, get rid of it as soon as possible, in case it affects other angels. Why would they be so terrified of doubts like that affecting other angels?

You know, unless it was affecting them?

Gabriel’s expression when Crowley says “where have you been” in the big confrontation is… fear. It’s terror. It’s this fleeting, desperate uncertainty, this utter horror that maybe he’s right. Maybe the Almighty doesn’t care, maybe the Plan is bullshit, maybe they’re all fucked, maybe she abandoned them, just like he’s been trying not to think about for centuries and centuries. 

And Michael already is in doubt. Michael already communicates with the other side, and has illicit friendships with Ligur and Hastur at least, and gets information from the other side. Michael and Aziraphale aren’t so different, in that respect. 

Sandalphon? Sandalphon supports Gabriel, but the thing is, like… He also knows more about what goes on on Earth, and he strikes me as one of those people that just doesn’t worry? He just goes with the flow - maybe he’d like things to be better, but he doesn’t usually think about them. 

And Uriel… I think Uriel is the one who’s closest to the “ideal” angel, in that she presses herself into that regimented thinking that Aziraphale tried so hard to cram himself into. She sees things that are Right, and Wrong: anything in between is either worthless or inappropriate, and things should be Right. She’s angry when Aziraphale steps out of it, but it isn’t just about Aziraphale - Michael turns out to be just like him, and Gabriel seems to be teetering, and wherever Gabriel goes, Sandalphon will follow, and Uriel doesn’t want to be alone, but she also doesn’t really care about like. The Faith in the Almighty. She cares about doing the Right thing, and when the Right thing is no longer simple and plain, what then? What next?

And when it comes to an event like Pride…

I think Aziraphale would assume that Gabriel, Michael, Sandalphon, Uriel, any of the other angels, would inherently find it gross or disgusting, or that they would find him gross or disgusting for IDing with being gay, or being too human… 

And never consider that maybe they have doubts. That maybe they have fears. That maybe they too are uncertain.

That maybe Michael would find being in the middle of a gigantic crowd of people, smiling and laughing and doused in glitter, wearing costumes, and looking like she does, being like she is, and maybe standing next to Hastur and Ligur, and talking, just talking - not on the phone, not in a closet or in a stairwell or under the eave in the back of the smoking area, but just. Talking. in public. That maybe Michael would find that freeing, that she’d like it, that maybe she’d reach out and brush Beelzebub’s hand, and it would feel like just for a moment that all the boundaries imposed by their respective positions are absent, are gone, that just for today, just for this incredible little festival, they’re just people, just like the humans, that they’re just colourful faces in a colourful crowd, and that no one will notice them, that for once, there’s safety in those numbers.

That maybe Gabriel would find all these people so sure of themselves, so sure of their identities and their persons, so liberating? So comforting? Just imagine how Gabriel would feel, if someone touched his hand and said, “Listen, I know maybe it doesn’t feel like it sometimes, but God’s love is actually unconditional. God loves His children no matter what, it’s a given, it’s a constant thing.” And yes, the pronouns are different, and yes, these humans don’t necessarily know anything, but they’re so confident. They’re not frightened, like he is. They don’t feel abandoned. Or maybe they do, and they’re certain of being loved anyway. And all these people do things - inhabit physical bodies, taste things, enjoy things, love one another, and never fear that that’s the wrong thing, or that it’s inappropriate to do. 

And Uriel would find… such quiet joy? Seeing everyone so relaxed, and just being able to just. Be quiet. Be there, and be on the sidelines, and be quiet, and take it all in, but see people smile, and laugh, and this is about… Goodness, isn’t it? This is Good, right? It has to be Good, surely it’s Good…

And for Sandalphon there’s just this… You know, this thrill in seeing Gabriel especially, but seeing other angels relax, seeing them feel at ease, and they’re amongst humans but these humans aren’t the base creatures who kill one another, who rut in the dirt, who… You know, become defined by pleasures or whatever, these are people who are saying those things don’t matter, that they’re just a part of life? Yes, there’s drink and sex and drugs and dancing and food, but that’s all by the wayside - these are all people that love one another, who exist and play with their own spirits, identities, personhoods, and connect with others based on that, you know? There’s a spiritual element to Pride in so many ways, because you have such an intimate and yet wide-reaching, soulful connection with all these people, there’s such a soulful element? You stand in solidarity against a greater whole, and you do it with joy. 

So many people go to Pride for such different reasons, and when it comes to the archangels, I can see all of them finding this freedom in it, all finding it so joyful and really identifying with it - all in such different ways, but feeling safe there, with one another, with all these other people? Humans?

And I think Aziraphale would be so certain it’s about him, that they’re there to spy on him, scrutinise him and Crowley, pick him apart, and not really consider until after it was very obvious that maybe it’s about their own things?

Like, I think that in his head, Aziraphale kind of sorts people through these Good and Bad modules, and so Crowley is either on the Good or Bad pedestal in terms, either he can do no wrong or do no right, but the angels go through that treatment, too - even when he knows they’re Right in the Heavenly sense, he sorts them into Bad, inherently nasty or cruel or dogmatic, and not really think of them as maybe individuals with their own doubts and fears, their own capacities for good? And I understand why, but it doesn’t make those things… absent. 

And I just die. I die big time.

Especially because like…

Aziraphale isn’t the only angel that feels love for things he knows he shouldn’t? He isn’t the only angel who looks at gender, who feels kind of a pull to some gendered elements and wants to put it on and try it out, who wants to play with it, who wants to experiment with it and maybe embody gender a little bit; he isn’t the only angel who wants to reach out and touch another angel, another demon, who wants intimacy, who wants to be recognised as an individual and love as an individual; he isn’t the only angel who feels alone and abandoned, and wants to feel less so. 

And I die over Aziraphale discovering that, you know, the angels are people too? That they, too, are… You know, not just a group of people out to destroy Aziraphale, because the thing is, like…

That isn’t just a revelation about the angels.

It’s the revelation that Aziraphale isn’t necessarily under scrutiny all the time? That his every action isn’t being carefully watched and judged by other parties? Like, that realisation that other people live in wide and vibrant worlds, that they’re not thinking about you all or even most of the time, that you’re just a character in this entire world they exist in… That’s so freeing, when you’re anxious about your behaviour, when you’re frightened of being judged, or Doing The Wrong thing. 

I don’t know, sorry, this has become a really, really long response,but. I love… the angels, and  I love Aziraphale, and realising like… He doesn’t have to care about the angels or connect with them, but that he doesn’t necessarily have to? That he can just be free and not think about them, if he wants, and let them live their lives? He isn’t beholden to them, but more than that, he doesn’t have to be beholden to them, there’s no responsibility to be so.  And so on.

#good omens #aziraphale #gabriel #uriel #sandalphon #michael #mir don't look #Anomymous #as defined by dictionary #answered #long post for ts

[hazelnmae]

Lies Travel Faster Part Two: Chapter Three

Summary: Sophia Murphy’s past is coming for her. Can she outrun it?

Tags: Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Warnings: angst; smut; violence; language; rape/non-con; death

CHAPTER 3 Read Chapter 2 here

Months earlier, Sophie had held her breath as the car made its way through traffic. Yelling from the streets, car horns, sirens carrying forward from somewhere behind them--all the sounds overwhelmed her after spending so much time in seclusion.

She was thankful when the driver finally came to a stop in front of the ornate building and couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. She thanked the young blinder who’d driven her, and made her way up the marble stairs and through the rotating brass door.

The city never ceased to amaze her. New York was bigger than she left it all those years ago. And though she hadn’t spent much time there--just a few weeks as she was on her way in or out of the country--she remembered it very different from the New York she found when she came back.

Sophie did her best to avoid the city at all costs, opting at first to check in with Michael via phone so she could stay firmly planted in her one room rental further south. After a few months, though, she could sense that he was pulling away from her and decided it was time for a different tactic.

He was far more open when she began her biweekly visits in person.

“Tommy must be happy with the information you’re feeding him,” he said one day as they spoke casually in his office.

At first she bristled at the name, but Sophie quickly laughed to cover up her unease.

In truth, it was Arthur who tasked her with keeping an eye on Michael. His cousin had been charged with legitimate Shelby Company business and was shipped off to America and out of Tommy’s sights. As much as Tommy hadn’t wanted to deal with him, Arthur knew his cousin needed guidance. He was, after all, tasked with investing their capital responsibly.

And so he connected with Sophie shortly after Tommy’s letter arrived. Arthur promised to be in touch on a regular basis for updates, but she didn’t realize at the time that he’d so quickly become her only conduit to her previous life in Birmingham.

She walked confidently down the hallway, listening to the sound of her own heels on the expensive tile. She hadn’t had many occasions to dress so posh in her small and simple life in the mountains and relished the silk of her dress, the soft hug of her stockings, the curls of her hair bouncing as she walked.

Michael welcomed her into his office with a grunt after she peaked her head in the door. Sophie promptly slumped into the velvet covered chair across from his desk, but Michael waited to let her speak first.

Sophie cleared her throat to get his attention and he looked at her over the newspaper he was reading to finally meet her gaze.

“Good morning, Sophie,” he said, still reading.

Sophie just smiled at him.

“And how are you, today?” he asked.

“I just wish I didn’t have to come to this fucking city to see you,” she said lighting a cigarette and laying her head back on the chair.

“No one said you had to see me,” he responded, finally placing the newspaper down on his desk.

He was right. No one had insisted she see him. She’d chosen that route on her own. But rather than admitting he was right, she let the comment go.

It’d been eighteen months since they came back to the states. Eighteen months and she’d gotten no closer to her goal. A year and a fucking half and no more satisfied with the trajectory of her life than when she ran away from Birmingham.

In the first year or so, Arthur kept Sophie apprised of happenings back in Birmingham, but she asked him to stop when he told her of Tommy and Jesse Eden.

“It doesn’t mean anything, Soph,” he said, trying to reassure her that Tommy was still very much in love with her.

“Don’t say that, Arthur”

“It’s true.”

But she knew it wasn’t.

After his initial letter, Tommy hadn’t made a single attempt to contact her. She was sure he was having her watched--likely tasking someone with the same objective she had watching over his cousin. But he never so much as wrote, called, sent a fucking telegram. Nothing.

It was as if she’d never existed.

And for a while, she thought maybe she hadn’t. She spent months questioning their relationship--replaying everything over and over in her mind until she’d nearly driven herself crazy.

In the end, she decided to believe it was real.

There had been something between them. She knew she’d loved him. That she still did. And she chose to believe he’d truly loved her.

“Soph. You okay?” Michael asked from behind her.

At some point she’d stood and moved toward the window, though she didn’t remember doing it.

“How long have we been here, Michael?” she asked in return, shaking off the confusion.

“A year and a half.”

“And how many times are you going to ask if I'm okay?" she asked.

“Until I know you are,” he said, not missing a beat.

It was that day she decided to take time away, to pull herself together and finally return to the small town where she’d grown up. To look for him, Vincenzo, the only surviving member of the Changretta family who she held responsible for what had happened to her own family. And finally put a bullet in his head.

That night Sophie told Michael of her plans. She also made her monthly call to Arthur, to keep him apprised of Michael’s personal life and affiliations.

He’d met a woman. A young, blonde, American woman, who seemed more infatuated with his success and money than him. But she’d seen it many times--a man falls in love with a beautiful woman who falls in love with his fat wallet. And she assured Arthur the woman was of little consequence and wasn’t cause for concern.

Then she packed her bags, returned to her small house, and spent the next several months preparing to track her target.

__________________

Tommy downed another glass of whisky. His fifth? Sixth? He was no longer sure.

All he knew was that Betty, the barmaid, would continue to serve him as long as he wanted. And that at some point in the night, he’d stagger home and fall into his bed hopefully to a dreamless sleep.

The dreams still came, but they were different.

He rarely dreamt of the tunnels anymore. His dreams had taken an interesting turn, but one that terrified him as much as the war.

Grace appeared to him. Urging him to end it all. To join her. To put that bullet in his brain.

But sometimes it was Sophie who appeared. And she urged him to stay. To push forward. She reminded him that he was needed. That, regardless of what others thought, of what he thought himself, he was a good man. He had good intentions. And that he deserved a good life.

He tended to believe Grace. But he chose to stay alive and hoped for sleep night after night on the chance he’d see Sophie. Even if he didn't believe her.

___________________

“I have no fucking clue where she is, Arthur. I’ve been searching for months,” Michael shouted into the phone at his cousin on the other line.

“You’re coming back,” Arthur answered. “We’ve already booked passage.”

Michael ran his hand over his face and through his hair. He’d fucked it up. Had ruined it all. He dreaded seeing his family in Birmingham. Of facing his mother. But he actually feared Tommy. He knew what the man was capable of doing to his enemies. And chances were Michael had just made a pretty good enemy of himself.

“But Michael, you’re not coming back to Birmingham without her.”

Michael let out a sigh.

“Fucking find her,” Arthur said, abruptly ending the conversation.

Just as he slammed his phone on the receiver, Michael heard a familiar knock on his office door. It creaked open. Sophie poked her head in the small opening, smiling as if nothing had happened.

Clearly she hadn’t heard.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Sophie. Where the hell have you been?” he shouted, charging toward her.

“Whoa, calm down, Michael. Fuck. I thought you’d be happy to see me,” she said with a smirk.

Again, Michael let out a deep sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and Sophie thought instantly of Tommy. Of how he did the same thing when he was stressed or overwhelmed.

“What’s going on, Michael?” she asked, concerned now.

“We’re going back, Soph. Pack your bags.”

“Wait. What do you mean?” she asked as she felt her heart rate climb. She’d dealt with Vincenzo only two weeks ago. And while that’s what she’d wanted to accomplish, she wasn’t ready to go back. To face them again. To face him.

“It’s over, Soph,” Michael said, pacing around the room and aggressively pulling drag after drag of his cigarette.

“Michael, slow the fuck down,” she said, grabbing his shoulders and squaring his body toward hers so he’d have to look her in the eye.

But he didn’t look her in the eye. Instead he hung his head in defeat and stared at their shoes.

“The New York Stock Exchange--it’s crashed.”

___________________

Read Chapter 4

Thanks so much for reading along, friends. Comments and feedback are both very much appreciated! XOXO

My lovely and wonderful tag list full of friends: @justanothershelby @evelynshelby@l0tsofpennies@sympathyfortheblinderdevil @actuallyazriel@huntersvibe @porcelainjokersmadness  @julietswildchild

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #michael gray #arthur shelby #lies travel faster #HazelNMae

[vios-rockland-corner]

Rockland: The balance of good and evil

The date of this post is 3/27/20.  Please note that information revealed at this time via Patreon or any of the creator’s blogs may be subject to change after this date

I’ve been debating lately on how dangerous the Rockland universe is.  Lately it seems like there’s been more focus on the horror, so things start to look bleaker by the minute.  I was wondering if Rockland is primarily ruled by more evil forces and characters, but there may actually be some shred of light in this world.

I feel it’s best if I try to tackle this by looking at a few of the major groups I’m aware exist in this universe.

Let’s try examining alignments and see where we go from there with just a few (not all) of the main groups that exist in Rockland.

The Misfits

Alignment: Evil

Just based on the Misfits: First Blood demo and everything else we’ve seen and heard, I think it’s safe to say that the Misfits should generally be considered one of the more sinister elements of Rockland.  Now we haven’t seen all the characters yet, so characters here may indeed range between how evil one character is versus another.  Even the Misfits you meet in the demo game mention they do normal stuff from time to time.  They just have a propensity for murder.  Murder is a “no no” though, so I’m still classifying them as bad guys.  We’ve yet to see how big the group is, so how much of a hold they have over the town/city they live in is an unknown factor.  This group could either an occasional problem for society, or a much more serious danger.

The Professionals

Alignment: Evil

We have some names and faces now, but we definitely lack far more information on the Professionals than we do the Misfits.  Still, considering these characters have some confirmed blood ties with the Misfits, and even dialogue in the demo confirming that murder basically runs in the family, it’s probably safe to assume this group is just as dangerous as the Misfits.  In fact, they are possibly even more dangerous.  I went through some ideas in a previous post on the dangers the group could hold in society and how these familial connections mean you better watch out who you make an enemy of in Rockland.  I also touch on how this group may end up being the reason why so many of the human characters get away with murder.  Especially if it’s through the generations.  Same with the Misfits though, not sure how many characters make up the Professionals.  Numbers and positions in society would determine the overall threat they pose.

Fallen Angels

Alignment: Neutral?

After we get some games out on the Misfits, we’re probably going to head back into the focus on Zeitgeist (Cain’s remake game).  It sounds like we’ll get a lot of lore in said game and better learn about the Fallen Angels themselves.  Now, I’m not 100% sure on the alignment here, but I’m taking a stab to consider that the Fallen Angels are part of the natural order.  They have specific jobs to do relating to the mortal world, so that’s their main focus.  I wouldn’t be surprised if the reason they’re likely not going to swoop in and save people from characters they’d likely punish in the afterlife (like the Misfits or Professionals) is because they simply aren’t allowed to, or aren’t that invested in every single small infraction made by mortals.  I mean, if you live for thousands of years, you may not be that interested in solving every single little problem that occurs.  

Now...specific angels may fall into different alignment categories.  Sam Volkov my current guess is that he’d be something like Lawful Neutral.  I think he’s still a reaper in this universe, and when it comes to death everyone is pretty much equal (good, bad, young, old, you get the idea).  He can be a friendly character though from what we’ve seen in the Zeitgeist demo.  Another fallen angel I’m aware of that we haven’t seen yet (he WAS referred to though in the Zeitgeist demo) is Michael Volkov.  Now I have no confirmation on what his current role is, but in the past he was basically the fallen angel of war and chaos.  He wasn’t necessarily a character you wanted to run into either.  Now if he still has that role...he can TECHNICALLY still be neutral.  If it’s based on the natural order, sometimes you need entropy and conflict in the universe.  If it’s his job and he happens to enjoy it, *shrugs* we may just consider him chaotic neutral in this case.  Cain Zeitgeist is....well we have so many spoilers but this fellow makes me keep changing my mind as to what he’s about.  For now my guess is he’ll either be true neutral or chaotic neutral.  He still keeps me on my toes, but he may not be as bad as his previous incarnation.  

Then we have someone like Damien Morningstar.  In previous lore, he was both against Cain and honestly his father’s work in general.  Cain may be changing but I think....Damien in the Rockland universe is not only still going to be a priest, but also still hates his dad Luke (aka Lucifer).  So he may not stand for the same beliefs as all the other angels.  If he resembles some of his older incarnation, he could be one of the few angels who actively works in the mortal world to assist humans as much as he can.  Still not a lot of information yet, so I can’t be sure if he’s still neutral or if he jumps up into a good alignment.

Mark of Belial Main Cast

Alignment: Good

Much longer down the road, the creators want to work on a set of detective games known as the Mark of Belial (or at least that’s what the first game would be called).  In those games, you actually will be working to find a killer.  So naturally, you’re working with a specific police precinct to catch the perpetrator.  I think that blatantly tells us we’ll be working with the good guys for once.  Only way I could see the main cast here as a bad alignment is if we get the rug pulled out from under us and find out ALL the characters and division are corrupt, haha.  Not an impossibility, but I don’t think that’s the plan.  The original concept I believe was an all human cast, so I’m going to keep up with that assumption here.  So unlike the Fallen Angels who (mostly) probably keep their nose out of most mortal affairs unless it’s job related, this would be a group of human characters actively working towards the safety of the citizens.  So yay, finally some hope in all this!  This tells me not all the characters in Rockland will place their tail between their legs and bow to characters like the Misfits or the Professionals.  There may be SOME cowardly or corrupt members of the police/detective division you work with, but I believe the games WILL be geared towards trying to catch the culprit.  You do stand a fighting chance.

The Hand of God

Alignment: Good?

Another group without a lot of information, but the name gets thrown around here and there.  Now if the characters of the Mark of Belial Cast are all human, they will most likely end up dealing with (and being more competent with) human affairs.  The Hand of God we’ve gotten hints that they are more aware of some of the more supernatural elements of Rockland, including the Fallen Angels.  That means they KNOW stuff, which is a big help to keeping citizens safe.  The creators have said they are aware of the dangers some of these supernatural entities or characters pose.  I’m making the assumption for now that this group is actually made up of good guys trying to quietly keep the peace from behind the scenes.  While normal citizens are busy fearing disappearances or murders that are committed by human characters like the Misfits and the Professionals, the Hand of God is likely being kept busy by “bigger fish to fry.”  Not to say that humans can’t be extremely dangerous (either via a violent nature or a dangerous intellect), but between a human serial killer and a supernatural one, I’m placing my bets that the supernatural killer is much more of a threat.  Also, the reveal of certain supernatural elements to the public might cause a mass panic.  So I think the Hand of God group will be working for the greater good, but it’s very possible that they’ll have only so much time and resources to spend on dealing with the more dangerous elements or Rockland.  The police and detectives will just have to be left in charge of taking care of the more sinister human characters in Rockland.

I have to say...I feel a little better.  Yes, the more evil characters and elements of Rockland are likely still going to be EXTREMELY problematic.  They probably have ways not only to survive and avoid judgement, but to continue their heinous deeds as they please.  I wouldn’t have it any other way because it’s more fun and interesting when you have villains capable enough of committing evil deeds and getting away with it.  They won’t be a joke.  BUT, it does seem like not every character we meet in the Rockland games is going to be against us.  Sure, we may not know right away which characters we can trust or not, but it looks like there will be some who mean you no harm or even want to keep you safe.  It’s just a matter of which opponents the good guys are up against, and if they are in the right place at the right time to save the day.

You know what’ll be fun to see though?  I’m sure several of these groups are going to end up intermingling with each other at one point or another.  What each party is aware of about the other when they meet is also interesting.  For example, if you’re doing police/detective work in the Mark of Belial games, you might have to go check a dead body or two for clues.  Said dead bodies may be currently kept in a funeral home they’ve recently arrived at.  That means we literally have some strong potential of getting at least cameos of the Willow family (which consists of Misfits and Professionals characters) in the MOB games.  Now wouldn’t that be fun?  You have to talk obliviously to literal murderers while you’re hunting for a murderer.  I wonder how characters like Quill and Alchemy would view the case.  I always imagined with the MOB games though that they’ll make a brand new character to be the main killer for those.  Who knows though?  Maybe you find out the killer IS a pre-existing character.  Maybe even one who’s usually “immune” when they commit crime.  Could end up being quite a pickle.

Also I have a weird feeling Quill will just go out of way to be super creepy to the detectives when they visit.  Just a feeling, haha.

Will be fun to clashing sides, though it may be quite a while before we get to that kind of content.

#rockland #Rockland Games #runawayoutlaw #rottenbonethief #sugarhazard #Cain Zeitgeist #the misfits #the professionals #hand of god #mark of belial #horror

[blaeptein]

HEADCANON //                             before  everything ,  before  the  world     &     before  god ,  there  is  only  one  thing  :  darkness .    she  is  a  void ,  she  is  nothing .  the  absence  is  her  existence ,  which  has  never  made  any  sense  to  mortal  minds     &     explains  most  of  her  erasure  from  the  scriptures .    but  it  doesn’t  last  :  the  universe  is  all  about  balance .     so  god  is  created ,  taking  space  where  amara  used  to  reign .     he  is  life ,  perfection ,  light  light  light .   she  is  frustrated ,  forced  to  disappear  by  something  she  cannot  be ,  so  of  course  she  tries  to  destroy  what  he  is .   to  protect  himself ,  god  creates  the  archangels .    while  darkness  is  unleashed  upon  the  nascent  universe ,   amara  has  to  face  the  truth  :  one  cannot  exist  without  the  other ,     &     so  she  accepts  a  truce .    she  even  begins  to  appreciate  god ,  because  he  is  young     &     prone  to  mistakes ,  which  means  she  can  help  him  learn .  for  the  first  time  in  an  extremely  long  existence ,  amara  has  a  true  purpose  that  isn’t  to  destroy .  

instead  of  accepting  this  peace ,  god  does  not  stop  from  creating  angels .  power  gets  to  his  head ,  or  maybe  he  just  desired  more  company .  but  this  is  a  terrible  decision  :  more  angels  mean  more  grace  mean  more  light  !!  the  balance ,  once  again ,  is  overthrown .  but  instead  of   listening  to  amara’s  warnings ,  god  decides  that  it  is  time  to  get  rid  of  her ,  otherwise  she’ll  always  prevent  him  of  creating  new  species  or  creatures  in  his  image .  as  said  before ,  god  is  young ,  and   believes  he  knows  better .  

the  archangels  are  sent  to  deal  with  amara ,   who  is  weakened  by  the  imbalance .  amara  meets  michael ,  but  he  is  not  the  one  who  manages  to  put  her  in  a  cage  :   it  is  lucifer ,  who  found  a  way  to  keep  the  balance  intact  while  making  sure  she  isn’t  capable  of  hurting  god .  the  brightest  angel  carves  into  his  own  grace  the  mark  of  cain     &      imprisons  her  in  it ,  creating  the  most  dangerous  curse .   the  plan  was  to  transfer  her  to  the  blade ,  and  then  to  lock  the  blade  in  a  cage  no  one  would  ever  access .  but  while  connected  to  lucifer ,   amara  accesses  his  mind ,  his  desires ,  his  ambition .   instead  of  putting  her  into  the  blade ,  lucifer  keeps  her  for  himself ,  while  she  whispers  sweet  promises  into  his  ear .  

this  is  how  lucifer  downfall  begins  :  with  a  mark ,  darkness  spreading  through  his  grace .   he  falls .   even  after  the  mark  is  given  to  cain  as  a  punishment ,  she  can  still  be  heard ,  corrupting  lucifer  until  nothing  is  holy  about  him  anymore .   while  she  is  proud  of  her  handiwork ,  it  is  not  enough .  so  with  cain ,  she  begins  to  utterly  destroy  god’s  creations  :  men  &  angels  die  under  the  blade .  amara’s  bloodlust  is  bottomless  &  cain’s  control  over  himself  is  inexistent .   she  whispers  &  he  executes .  that  is ,  until  he  falls  in  love .  the  hold  she  has  on  his  mind  loosens  so  much  she  fears  she  is  going  to  disappear ,  and  she  quickly  realizes  that  her  bond  with  lucifer  was  far  more  powerful  than  the  one  she  shares  with  cain .  so  she  decides  that  for  now ,  she  will  not  fight  cain’s  resistance .  she  lets  him  lay  low .  she  sometimes  awakes  to  remind  him  that  she  is  here ,  that  she  has  not  forgotten  what  god  put  him  through .  amara’s  story  is  one  of  vengeance .

when  she  meets  dean ,  amara  awakes .  she  becomes   unbearable .  she  offers  cain  an  out  :  she  is  the  one  who  whispers  to  him  the  way  to  get  rid  of  the  mark .  dean  winchester ,  the  perfect  vessel     &     the  righteous  man .  he’s  not  only  god’s  creation  at  its  finest ,   but  he  is  also  her  one  true  bond  :  he  is  the  light  to  her  darkness .  not  only  does  she  want  to  corrupt  him ,  but  she  also  knows  that  he  will  be  able  to  bring  her  back .  besides ,  he  is  god’s  creation ,  but  he  is  also  hers  :  he  possesses  all  the  traits  she  gave  humanity  right  before  being  locked  away ,  hoping  that  it  would  destroy  them .  

she  chooses  dean .  this  is  why ,  when  cain  meets  dean ,  he  talks  about  only  the  “  worthy “  being  able  to  take  the  mark .  when  others  have  come ,  amara  was  indifferent .  they  were  no  better  than  cain .  but  dean  is  perfect ,  dean  is  what  she  wants .  she  knows  it  is  his  destiny  to  be  united  to  her .  because  of  the  balance  of  the  universe .  

the  bond  with  dean  is  the  strongest  she  has  ever  had ,  with  lucifer  a  close - second .  if  him  having  the  blade  makes  it  stronger ,  she  can  still  appear  when  he  doesn’t  have  it  in  his  vicinity .   she  comes  to  learn  everything  about  him  :  his  fears ,  his  desires ,  his  memories ,  the  people  he  loves  and  the  ones  he  hates .  every  death  strenghtens  their  bond ,  because  every  murder  creates  darkness  in  dean’s  soul ,  therefore  creating  a  symbiosis  between  her  &  his  essence .  once  you  touch  darkness ,  it  never  goes  away ,   because  once  he  has  killed  in  her  name ,  they  are  linked ,  it  is  impossible  to  tell  where  she  ends  &  where  he  begins .  

this  is  why  dean  calls  her  a  disease  :  she  spreads .  she  gains  power .  she  feeds  on  every  regret ,  every  act ,  every  breath .   he   gets  angrier ,  more  violent .  she  makes  him  powerful ,  she  makes  him  ruthless .  dean  &  her  share  the  very  same  anger ,  but  hers  is  purer ,  more  ancient .  she  nurtured  it  since  the  beginning  of  time .  a  younger  brother  that  you  have  to  take  care  of ,  one  that  never  meets  the  consequences  of  his  bad  actions ,  the  feeling  of  never  being  enough  for  him ,  the  unfairness  of  it  all .

freeing  her  is  both  an  unconscious  choice  that  stems  from  amara’s  demands  &  an  act  of  rebellion  from  dean .  it  doesn’t  work  as  planned ,  since  even  with  all  of  her  powers  restaured ,  they  are  still  linked .  that  does  not  bother  her ,  since  her  objective  has  changed  :  while  she  only  wanted  to  corrupt  him  at  first ,  she  has  by  now  realized  all  the  things  they  would  be  able  to  accomplish  together .  

while  she  grows  more  &  more  powerful ,  she  has  no  plan  to  destroy  the  earth .  destroying  the  earth  would  not  only  destroy  the  new - found  balance ,  but  it  would  mean  destroy  every  human  amara  has  crossed  path  with ,  including  dean ,  which  is  not  something  she  desires .  she  is  neither  stupid  nor  particularly  impulsive  :  she  thinks  before  acting ,  and  after  having  spent  so  much  time  trapped ,  there  are  ideas  that  she  want  to  act  on .  even  absent ,  she  was  still  present .  because  darkness ,  as  seen  with  cain  &  lucifer  &  dean ,  is  inherent  to  life .  you  cannot  have  light  without  darkness .  she  was  there ,   on  earth ,  all  along .  her  causing  trouble  is  not  about  destroying  the  world ,  it’s  not  about  making  it  in  her  own  image .  amara  only  wants  to  take  back  what  was  hers .  which  is  to  say ,  she  demands  revenge .  everything  done  during  her  time  in  the  show  is  done  that  god  would  come  down  &  meet  with  her .  she  wants  him  trapped .  she  wants  to  take  back  the  control  of  the  narrative .   

as  for  the  kiss  with  dean ,  she  is  not  doing  that  for  any  sexual  purpose ,  but  she  is  absolutely  breathing  a  bit  of  his  soul ,  so  that  the  symbiosis  continues  even  now  that  they  have  separate  bodies .  the  bond  was  weakened  by  the  transfer ,  and  the  kiss  was  a  gentle  way  to  restore  the  balance .  

she  accepts  another  truce  with  the  sole  purpose  of  corrupting  god  himself ,  because  killing  him  was  easier  than  she  had  expected ,  considering  he  didn’t  really  put  up  much  of  a  fight .  this  is  what  leads  to  season  15  :  amara  whispered  sweet  things  into  his  ears  &  he  listened .  

#𝟶𝟶𝟿. [ 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽 : 𝙰𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙰 ] #here's my take on amara ! #all u have to know abt her tbh #i will write her diff w lucifers & chucks unless we have talked abt it bc i don't want to impose anything #idem for deans #but for everyone else : here is her main verse :)) #im sorry if there are any mistakes im too lazy to proof - read ill do that tomorrow

[maluminspace]

49.You can sleep I’ll keep u safe with Michael lol sorry I mixed u up with someone else

I decided to go in a very different direction for this fic 🙈 I hope you like it 💖

49 “You can sleep I’ll keep u safe”

The world is a dangerous place now. Anyone fortunate enough to survive the virus is doomed to a life of constant fear and uncertainty.

Luckily you and your best friend, Calum, had met with a group of other survivors not long after the first outbreak had claimed the lives of billions.

In the weeks since all communication had finally cut out, your rag-tag bunch has been crafting an abandoned farm into a base. It’d worked well so far, having surrounded the grounds with barricades, fences and hand-made devices that will alert you if any of the ‘infected’ wonder too close to your new little dwelling.

As grateful as you are to have people who can look out for you and protect you, being holed up at the farm had started to drive you mad. It’s for this reason that you jump at the chance to accompany Calum and a couple of the others on a supply run into the nearest little town.

The walk ends up being entirely miserable. A heavy rainstorm delays parts of your journey. Your little group is forced to take a longer route to avoid flooded paths and at times the rain comes down so heavily that you have no choice but to take shelter until the worst of it passes.

You feel a wave of relief when you finally reach the little town. Your group makes a mutual decision to split up for an hour to check as many buildings as possible before heading back to base with your haul. You agree on an assembly point and head off in different directions.

Not a single word passes between you and Calum as you set off together down the Main Street. The two of you have been friends for longer than you care to remember and it makes words unnecessary a lot of the time.

The two of you silently scope out the front of a few of the buildings. Unsurprisingly, most of the shops and public buildings seem to have already been ransacked.

“This could turn out to be a wasted journey.” Calum frowns as he cautiously steps over the threshold of what was once a little grocery store. “I hope we can at least find some stuff that we can plant back at the farm. No one else seems to be thinking long term...”

Your friend’s sentence trails off when the sound of grunting and scuffling reaches you.

“It’s coming from back there.” You whisper, pointing to the rear of the store.

Calum nods, his expression serious and focused as he holds up his baseball bat in front of him, ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

You prepare your own weapon, a long metal pipe that you’d acquired weeks ago. It wasn’t the strongest or most sophisticated of defensive items but it’s served you well enough so far.

Calum steps ahead of you, silently insisting that he leads the way. It’s not surprising, he’s a sort of natural leader and protector.

The two of you tread carefully, ensuring you avoid the various items littered across the floor. As you approach the back of the shop, the daylight fades significantly. You can just about make out the shape of an infected. It’s limbs twisting unnaturally as it scratches against a door that seemingly leads to a little office or store room.

The undead creature barely has chance to turn it’s broken face towards you before Calum sends his bat crashing into it’s scull with a sickening crunch.

The infected corpse collapses instantly, falling into a crumpled heap on the grimy floor.

“Why was it trying to get into that room?” Calum asks, moving his gaze cautiously from the motionless body of the infected to the door it’d been trying to get through.

“There’s probably rats in there or something.” You shrug, although you don’t really believe that. The corpses can feast on rats at pretty much any given moment of the day. The vermin had spread like wildfire since humans were no longer around to deter them.

Luckily, you know that Calum’s curiosity isn’t going to let him walk away until he’s checked the room out.

It’s pointless telling him to be careful. Calum has always been brave and a little reckless, even in the years you’d known him before the virus had destroyed everything and everyone you’d both loved.

He gestures for you to stay back as he tentatively tries the door handle. The metal bar moves freely but when Calum tries to open the door it only moves a tiny bit like there’s something propped up behind it to keep it closed.

You exchange a significant glance with Calum, silently agreeing that forcing your way inside blindly might be a bad idea.

Stepping forward you open the door as wide as it will go, which is barely an inch or so. “Hello...” you whisper, “is someone in there hiding?”

Your question is met with complete silence. You turn back to exchange a confused look with Calum. “Someone has to be in there, right?”

Your best friend shrugs is broad shoulders as he peers into the darkness around the back of the store. “Maybe there’s another exit from that room somewhere.” He ponders our loud. “Maybe whoever barricaded that door got out another way?”

Judging by the size of the store and the distinct lack of other doors, something tells you that whoever or whatever made the barricade is still inside that room. The only question is, are they still alive.

“There’s no grunting or anything.” You whisper, still listening carefully through the tiny gap between the door and the frame that you’d created. “Maybe whoever’s inide is just asleep or something?”

Calum makes a sceptical noise. “With that thing scratching at the door?” He asks, jabbing his bat at what remains of the infected former person. “Would you be able to sleep knowing that it could get in?”

Before you can reply a weak noise, something like a sob or a whimper, comes from the other side of the door.

You hold up your hand to stop Calum from talking before cautiously moving a little closer. “Hello... who’s in there? You don’t have to be scared. We won’t hurt you.”

When you receive no reply, you gesture to Calum to say something, knowing that whoever is inside is probably scared and need of reassurance.

“Yeah... We won’t hurt you.” Calum shrugs. “We killed the thing out here, you’re safe now.”

After another moment of silence, a weak, scratchy voice asks, “really?”

“Yes!” You reply a little too eagerly, excited to have found another survivor after weeks of convincing yourself that the little group you’d found with Calum were the only people left. “You’re okay now, we can help you.”

Calum frowns at you. His protective nature obviously kicking in. “Careful.” He whispers. “We don’t know who this person is.”

You roll your eyes at him. “There’s a survivor in there, Calum! We have to help them.”

Before Calum can argue with you, there’s a shuffling noise from inside the barricaded room. You both turn your full attention to the door as the sounds of heavy objects being scraped along the floor interrupts you.

Calum instinctively steps in front of you by you shove him to one side that you can stand next to him. “I’ve told you a million times, Cal.” You huff, “I’m just as capable as fighting as you and besides...” you can feel your expression softening as you look at your best friend. “We agreed that we’d face every danger we come up against, together. That’s how we lived before all this happened and it’s how we’ll live now, yeah?”

A tiny smile touches Calum’s lips as he nods, touching your shoulder apologetically.

When the previously barricaded door slowly creeps open, both you and Calum snap your faves towards it, your weapons held tightly at your sides.

It take a moment for the stranger to step out of the dark room. They seem to have a slight limp and they seem frightened as they step into the dim light.

Your heart aches at the sight of the obviously scared man as he looks at you nervously. He has a kind face, although it’s partly covered with a long, matted blonde fringe. A thick stubble is covering the majority of the lower half of his face and his pretty green eyes are red rimmed and damp.

“You haven’t been bitten or scratched by one of those ‘things’ have you?” Calum asks, his voice a little coarse and harsh in your opinion.

The stranger shakes his head as he turns his startled gaze to Calum and then the corpse your friend is pointing at with his bat. “I’ve just been hiding in there for... I don’t even know how long.”

Calum regards the other survivor, obviously searching for the tell-tale signs of infection. You’d do the exact same thing if you weren’t so taken by this stranger’s beautiful green eyes. Maybe it’s because you’ve been surrounded by the same faces for weeks now, it’s nice to have a new one to look at.

“Are you alone?” Calum asks, startling you out of your daze.

The blonde man hangs his head and curls in on himself a little. “I am now.” He whispers hoarsely. “I had a friend, we were heading into the countryside to search for other survivors but...” The stranger’s voice breaks, a rough sob tearing out of his throat.

Without thinking about your own safety, you step forward, ignoring Calum’s warning tone as he huffs out your name. This stranger needs comforting and you’re obviously more qualified to offer that than Calum.

“I’m sorry you lost your friend.” You offer, gently reaching out to touch the blonde man’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’d want you to be safe, though. We can definitely help with that.”

“As soon as we’re sure we can trust you, of course.” Calum cuts in.

The stranger rubs his damp eyes with the back of one hand. “I don’t know how to that.” He shrugs, “I’m just... I’m alone and lost and I...”

You hush the stranger gently. “I believe you.”

The blonde man meets your gaze properly for the time, his eyes betraying his disbelief that you’re so willing to help him. “If we don’t trust each other these days, we have nothing.” You smile gently. “What’s your name?”

“Michael.” The stranger replies hesitantly.

You smile before introducing yourself and Calum. “We need to get the permission of the rest of our group before we can take you back to our base.” You turn to

Calum, ignoring his disgruntled expression. “Why don’t you go gather the others? I’ll grab whatever I can salvage from this store and Then we’ll meet you at the gathering point in ten minutes, yeah?”

It’s obvious that Calum isn’t happy about leaving you with Michael, but your suggestion is the most logical plan and he knows it.

“Fine.” Your best friend concedes. “If you need me, just yell, okay?” He shoots Michael a warning look before traipsing back to the front of the shop.

A moment later the front door opens and closes, signalling Calum’s exit from the store.

“You don’t have to take care of me.” Michael says quietly, “I can find another group...”

You shake your head, cutting the blonde man’s sentence short. “Our group needs to grow if we’re gonna survive longe term.” You explain. “There’s no reason you can’t be one of us, is there?”

Michael gives you a shy smile. “Well I hope the others like me more than your boyfriend does.”

A tiny laugh escapes you. “Calum’s not my boyfriend, he’s just very protective. You’ll see when you get to know him.”

“I hope he lets me get to know him.” Michael says, attempting a step back towards the room he’d been hiding in. His limp seems a bit worse now that he’s been standing for a while.

“Are you hurt?” You ask cautiously, hoping more than anything that Michael hadn’t been lying when he’d told Calum he hadn’t been bitten.

“I twisted my ankle running away from that thing.” Michael replies, pointing to the dead body. “I can still walk, though.”

You’re a little sceptical about his last comment but you watch with interest as he hobbles back into the room. He emerges a few moments later with a backpack and an arm full of bottled water, canned food a few bags of sweets. “There’s more stuff in there too.” He says “maybe Calum will like me more when he sees that I have supplies and treats.”

You smile gratefully. “You’d really share all that with us?”

Michael nods. “If your group will take me in I’ll do whatever I can to help and sharing this stuff would be the very least you all deserve!”

There’s something incredibly likeable about Michael. Despite his obvious sadness about the death of his friend, he’s willing to open up to you and trust you. That means a lot in these uncertain times.

The two of you chat casually as you gather up whatever supplies you can find. Michael understandably seems a little shy and nervous. You do your best to reassure him that things will be better when he’s accepted into your group. “It’s a little less stressful when you have people to watch your back.” You reassure kindly, taking the little box of bandages he offers to you. He’d found them on the floor behind the counter amongst some other discarded elements of a broken first aid box.

He smiles gratefully. “I just hope they can accept me, I don’t really want to be alone anymore.”

“You won’t have to be.” You smile gently. “Come on, lets go meet Calum and the others.”

Michael nods apprehensively as he follows your lead. You listen to his uneven footsteps as you both step out of the shop. The rain has worsened again since you’d entered the store with Calum and you’re concerned about the journey back to camp.

Your worries about the rain seem to be mirrored in the faces of your companions when you meet them at the assembly point you’d agreed on earlier.

“I don’t think it’s safe to head back today. It’ll be dark before we’re even halfway there and we can’t risk being out in the open after nightfall.” Calum yells over the pounding rain. “I think we should find somewhere to set up camp until the morning.”

His suggestion is met with a murder of agreement from the rest of the group. No one seems particularly happy about the idea, yourself included, but it’s definitely the safest option you can think of.

Calum leads you all to the outskirts of town. His survival and leadership instincts telling him that it’s better to be away from the bulk of the buildings just in case the former residents of the town are still hanging around.

There’s a large house that’s set apart from most of the other buildings on the main toad in and out of the town. Calum and a coupe of the others scope it out to ensure it’s empty and safe before they allow the rest of you in.

Once you’re all inside, you introduce Michael to the rest of the group. Most of them seem to share your view that taking him in would be beneficial, knowing that the farm is going to need a lot of work and the more people there is to all of that labour, the better.

After a quick meal of crackers and apples that you’d brought from the farm, Michael shares one of his bags of sweets with everyone.

Unsurprisingly, Calum volunteers to be take the first watch. The house is big enough to warrant a two person watch at all times, therefore you volunteer to take it with him. After sorting out the schedule for the rest of the night, you insist that Michael gets some much needed rest. “Seeing as you’re new, you don’t have to take a turn to be look out tonight.” You smile, offering him one of the blankets you’d just found in a cupboard upstairs. “You definitely need all your strength for the walk back to the base tomorrow.”

Michael eyes you uneasily. “I’m not sure how much I can sleep.” He confesses, “This is the first night I’ve spent out of that tiny store room since my friend died...”

Despite knowing very little besides his name, you wrap Michael in a comforting hug. “You need your rest, your friend wouldn’t want you to make tomorrow’s journey any harder than it needs to be.”

Smiling sadly, Michael curls up on the floor, snuggling under the blanket and using his worn out backpack as pillow. “I miss him... We were friends for years before all this.”

The pain in Michael’s voice almost breaks your heart. It resonates with you because despite belonging to a group now, you don’t know what you’d do without Calum. He’s your best friend, your rock, the person you love and trust more than anything.

A quiet sob escapes Michael as he curls up into a tighter ball.

It might seem overly familiar for someone that you’ve known for just a few hours but you can’t help yourself. You stroke Michael’s hair gently before wiping a tear from his grimy cheek. “It’s okay, you can sleep now. I’ll keep you safe.” You whisper, already knowing that the words leaving your mouth are entirely truthful. Michael is going to be a huge part of your life from now on, you just know it.

Masterlist

#michael clifford #5sos #michael clifford blurb #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford fic #5sos imagine #5sos fic #5sos blurb #michael imagine #michael fic #michael blurb #zombie apocolypse au #my writing #200 dialogue quotes

[cakesunflower]

Reach For You [Dad!Calum AU] Ch. 15

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 

Chapter 15

HE WAS HAVING trouble breathing. They’d been in the waiting room for forty-five minutes, but it might as well have been forty-five hours because of how agonizingly slowly the time was passing. He was pacing, wringing his fingers and twisting his rings, repeatedly running his hands through his curls. His heart was thundering in his ears and chest, deafening him to anything else and shaking his entire body, and he couldn’t breathe. There was a fucking boulder sitting in the pit of Calum’s stomach, nauseating and weighing him down heavily, knowing it wouldn’t let up until he saw her. Calum wasn’t capable of calming down, of sitting and waiting. He couldn’t relax. He couldn’t breathe.

“Why isn’t anyone telling us anything?” Richie burst out, worry and frustration coating his voice thickly. Calum didn’t look his way, hoping to focus on his unsteady breathing but not succeeding. “It’s been nearly an hour.”

“They’re taking care of her, honey,” Mrs. Russo’s gentle yet shaky voice spoke, clearly unable to keep her own nerves and fright at bay. “We just—we need to be patient.”

Calum was severely struggling with that.

Every cell in his body burned with the need to find Aspen and hold her, to make sure she was okay with his own two eyes. There was a painful tightness in his chest since the second he’d received Mrs. Russo’s phone call, rendering him breathless, yet also feeling as though he was being suffocated. Paralyzing fear froze the blood in his veins; Calum felt numb yet at the same time, he was was aware of his body trembling in terror, worry and everything in between because no one was telling them anything. He didn’t know what to do with himself. It didn’t feel real.

“Daddy?”

The sound of Luna’s small, timid voice instantly broke Calum out of his mindless trance, gaze snapping to the little girl who sat in a chair next to Michael. Calum looked at her, lips parting at her scared expression as she asked, “Is Mama gonna be okay?”

The air he didn’t remember inhaling rushed out of Calum’s lungs, ignoring everyone else’s eyes on him as his remained glued on Luna. She looked so small, sitting in the chair, and Calum’s stomach twisted painfully once again. He didn’t want her here, in the hospital as they waited impatiently to see Aspen, but they had no choice. Everyone was here, including Mrs. Russo, who’d been staying at Richie’s for the weekend. Everyone was here, wrecked with terrified nerves and overwhelming worry in hopes that Aspen was okay. That the accident hadn’t been as bad as they all were fearing.

Forcefully putting aside his worry, Calum found the nonexisting strength to muster up a reassuring smile as he walked over to Luna. He crouched down in front of her chair, gripping her small hands in his large ones, the contrast always drying his throat, and gave them a squeeze. The unshed tears burned his eyes but Calum kept them at bay as his throat worked. “She’s gonna be fine, bug,” Calum told Luna, the rasp evident in his voice. Her watery green eyes made his throat tighten uncomfortably. “We’ll see her soon.”

Calum fiercely hoped he hadn’t just lied to his daughter.

Fuck. If only someone could tell him what the hell happened.

They’d waited for what seemed like hours, long enough for Luna to eventually fall asleep curled up in Michael’s lap. Calum would’ve let her sleep on him, but he was afraid his trembling body would wake her up. He knew they hadn’t been at the hospital for long, maybe an hour or so, but time was passing by so slowly. It felt like the world had come to a standstill without him knowing what was going on with Aspen, if she was okay. She needed to be okay.

“Aspen Russo?”

The mention of her name by an unrecognizable voice had Calum spinning around, everyone suddenly straightening in attentiveness at the sight of a doctor approaching them. “How is she?” Mrs. Russo asked before Calum had a chance, though he was sure the way his throat felt, he’d barely be able to get the words out. “What happened to my baby?”

“Your daughter is alright, she’s stable,” the doctor announced, and Calum felt himself take in a sharp breath, though didn’t allow himself to feel any relief yet until the woman, Dr. Shaw as it said on her coat, finished. “She was in a car accident; the other driver lost control of their car on the icy road and collided with Aspen’s. She’s got two broken ribs and her left arm is fractured. Some of the glass cut through as well, and we’re going to need to keep her for a couple of days to monitor the concussion she’s suffered.” Dr. Shaw took a breath. “Luckily, there weren’t any internal injuries. It may not seem like it, but Aspen was fortunate because her injuries could’ve been much worse. But she’ll be able to go home by the end of the week, though she’ll need lots of rest to let her bones heal.”

Okay. okay, okay, okay. “Can—Can we see her?” Calum spoke up finally, unsurprised at the break in his voice, aware of his heart thundering at the news. She had broken bones. She had cuts. A concussion. She was hurt and Calum felt this ridiculous surge of guilt that he should’ve been there when he was well aware that there was nothing he could’ve done.

Dr. Shaw looked at him before nodding. “She hasn’t woken up yet but she will soon. Just a few people at a time, okay?”

Mrs. Russo took a sniffling breath, rubbing her hands down her face and down her sides before her glassy gaze went to Richie and Calum. “Boys?”

Richie was ready to go while Calum stopped to take a breath, running his fingers through his hair before looking at Michael. “Can you just—”

Michael cut him off with a reassuring nod. “I got her.”

Calum shot him a grateful look as Ashton squeezed his shoulder. “Go ahead, man.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Following Richie and Mrs. Russo, Calum tried to find the steadiness in his breath as they walked to Aspen’s room. The discomfort and pain in his chest wouldn’t let up until he saw her—until he saw the greenness of her eyes that he loved. Sitting in the waiting room, completely in the dark about her condition and not knowing the extent of her injuries had been driving him crazy. Had his blood freezing and body shaking and his thoughtless head spinning.

He truly felt numb. Calum was surprised he was even moving in the first place.

No one hesitated in opening the door Aspen was behind, and Calum shuffled in behind Mrs. Russo and Richie, shutting the door behind him with a dry throat and shaking hands. Finally bringing himself to look ahead, Calum felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

She didn’t look anywhere near as bad as the images his fear induced brain had conjured up, but seeing her injured in any sense had bile rising up Calum’s throat. Aspen lay on the bed, the upper part heightened slightly so she wasn’t laying flat on her back, an I.V. of fluids connecting to her right arm. Calum approached the bed with shaky knees, surprised he hadn’t collapsed yet; like Dr. Shaw had said, there were fresh cuts on her skin, scattered sparingly across her cheeks and collarbones. The ones on her face weren’t too many, would heal eventually, but even the smallest signs of injuries on his girlfriend had Calum taking in a sharp breath. Her head, forehead to be exact, was wrapped in a white cloth, a small spot of blood near her left temple. And, finally, her left arm had a cast on it for the fracture.

His beautiful girl was injured, was lying unconscious on a hospital bed, and Calum was having trouble keeping it the fuck together. As Mrs. Russo and Richie flanked either side of her, Calum stood at the foot of the bed, gripping the railing in a hold that whitened his knuckles. Aspen was in front of him, but Calum knew he wouldn’t be able to breathe until he saw those wonderful green eyes, heard her pretty voice. The doctor had said she was fine, that she would be able to go home in a few days, but how could Calum believe that she was fine when the only action coming from Aspen was the slow rise and fall of her chest, or the only sound she emitted was coming from the heart monitor that beeped out her steady rhythms?

How could he breathe when he was panicking, losing his mind over the thought of the woman he loved leaving him once more—this time more permanently?

Calum had been staring absently at the white sheets that covered Aspen from the waist up, lost in his blundering thoughts and not even realizing how many minutes had passed until a touch on his shoulder jolted him back to reality. His head snapped up, his eyes meeting Mrs. Russo’s gentle ones as she murmured, “Why don’t you sit with her, Calum? You should be here when she wakes up.”

He stared blankly at her, her words registering in his mind a moment later as he gave one nod before moving around her. Calum’s eyes remained glued to Aspen’s sleeping face, void of makeup as her long lashes brushed her prominent cheekbones. He slowly sat down in the plastic seat to her right, taking in a cut by her ear, the side of her nose, right along her jaw and one on her cheekbone. His head tilted ever so slightly, counting the cuts on the left side of her face; right by her eye where her eyebrow sharply ended, two on her cheek, one by her chin and another by her jaw.

His heart ached with every cut he took into account, relieved that all of them seemed to be surface cuts, the marks pink and nearly blending into her complexion. But the fact that she got them in the first place twisted Calum’s gut, made his lower lip tremble and heart lodge itself in the middle of his throat as his nose and eyes burned with the aching desire to let the tears fall.

It wasn’t until he heard the click of the door shut once Mrs. Russo and Richie left that Calum let the quiet, guttural sob escape. Carefully, gently, he took her right hand in both of his after shifting the chair closer, making sure he didn’t disturb the I.V., feeling the wetness of his tears against his warm cheeks as he let them flow. Out of fear, out of relief, out of guilt he logically knew didn’t belong to him but he felt anyway. She was his family. Wasn’t he supposed to protect his family?

“Please wake up soon, baby.” His voice was a raspy, broken whisper in the quiet of the room, disturbed only by the heart monitor. Calum took in a shaky breath, sucking his quivering lower lip into his mouth as he lightly grasped her fingers, running his knuckles over them, more hot tears falling when he noticed some more cuts from the glass on them. He let his gaze slide back to her face. “The doctor said you will, so you gotta prove her right, yeah? Open those pretty eyes you gave our little girl.”

Calum blinked quickly, throat tightening as he thought of Luna, fast asleep in Michael’s lap. He truly hoped Aspen would wake up before Luna did, not wanting their daughter to see her mother like this. It was terrifying, gazing at Aspen as she looked eerily similar to as if she was asleep, though this was deeper. She had a concussion, would probably be drowsy on her medication, but Calum needed for her to be okay. He may be overreacting, especially after the doctor said Aspen would be fine, but he needed to see her conscious and coherent and showing off those pretty green eyes to believe it.

Because while Calum had spent his first days with Luna by himself, he wasn’t at all ready or willing to be a single parent.

Stop being so fucking dramatic, a fierce voice hissed through his mind, making him frown at himself as his gaze went back to his hands holding Aspen’s. She’ll be fine. She’ll wake up. She’s not fucking dead.

But maybe he was justified in his worry. He’d lost her once, years ago. Losing her again, in these circumstances. . . Calum was positive it’d destroy him.

                                                          *****

“It was nice of Aspen to invite us for dinner last night,” Ashton commented as he walked alongside Calum, approaching the diner. Michael and Luke were walking ahead of them, both holding onto one of Luna’s hands as she giggled happily every time they used their grip on her to lift her off the ground every few steps.

Calum chuckled shortly, hands in his pockets. “It was nice that you two didn’t bite each other’s heads off. Too much.”

Ashton let out a laugh, nodding along. “I’d say that’s progress.”

Much to Calum’s pleasure and surprise, Aspen had told him to invite the boys over last night for spaghetti Sunday, making more than enough to feed everyone. When Calum had responded with a taken aback raise of his eyebrows, Aspen had rolled her eyes and told him to stop being dramatic and call the guys over, and his three best friends arrived later that evening more than excited to spend time with them.

Aspen and Ashton got along a lot better than they had been for the past few months. After their conversation at Luna’s party, the two of them were a lot more civil with one another than they had been, although they were still moments where snappy remarks were exchanged over dinner, though that wasn’t too unexpected. Calum didn’t believe that the two of them would just move on overnight; it’d be a tentative, patient journey, but at least they were trying.

Above all, Calum appreciated that. He knew Ashton and Aspen had problems of their own, but if he and Aspen were able to work things out, Calum was sure she and Ashton would be fine, too. Because despite some of the heated moments that may have occurred last night, the rest of it was spent like they were friends, or were trying to be. Chatting, smiling, laughing—just trying to work past the differences they both had. Calum saw that. And he was so grateful for them both. He wanted his girlfriend and best friend to get along like they once had, and that dinner truly seemed like a step in the right direction.

                                                           *****

The room door clicked open, but Calum didn’t look away from Aspen’s sleeping face. He’d been in the room for about an hour, bottom numb from sitting in the uncomfortable chair, yet he refused to move—that wasn’t even an option. He was going to be here when Aspen woke up.

There had been a nurse that had come in a few minutes ago to check on Aspen’s vitals, and Calum had just assumed she’d returned for something else. Until he felt a hand on his shoulder and his best friend’s voice speak softly, “I know you don’t wanna leave her side, so can I get you anything? Water, tea?”

“I’m fine,” came Calum’s quiet response, dark eyes glued to Aspen, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. “Is Luna still asleep?”

“She just woke up,” Ashton answered with a small sigh. “Michael and Luke took her to the cafeteria for some ice cream to distract her, so I thought I’d check on you.”

Calum’s chest tightened at the news of Luna being awake, teeth pressing together under a clenched jaw. He suddenly felt conflicted; he wanted to check in on Luna, make sure his daughter was okay, but he also didn’t want to leave Aspen’s side. Didn’t want to bring Luna in here, either. His eyebrows drew together, shoulders tensing as he was struggling with what to do.

And as if Ashton could feel Calum’s internal war, he gave the brunette’s shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll take care of her. If she starts asking for you a lot, I’ll let you know.” Calum felt his muscles relax a bit, gratitude swarming him as he gave a silent nod. Ashton gave his shoulder a pat before stepping away. But instead of immediately leaving the room, the hazel eyed man stopped at the foot of his bed, and from his peripheral Calum could see Ashton gazing at Aspen. “She’ll wake up, Cal,” he spoke, voice coated with reassurance. “She has you and Luna to come back to.”

He left with that, and Calum rolled his lips into his mouth as he felt the familiar pressure behind his eyes once more.

It wasn’t until another fifteen minutes had passed when Calum’s teary yet sharp eyes noticed the subtlest of shifts in Aspen’s peaceful expression. He saw the way her breathing deepened as she slowly came to, eyebrows sleepily drawing together as his back straightened, chair close to the bed as he sat at the edge of his seat. It wasn’t until he felt her fingers squeeze around his that Calum let out a short gasp. “Aspen?”

It wasn’t until moments later when her eyes blinked open, his dark eyes coming into contact with beautiful green irises that he could finally breathe.

Glorious air rushed into Calum’s lungs as Aspen crawled out of her slumber, eyes blearily blinking and eyebrows drawing together as she tried to make sense of what happened. Suddenly remember what he needed to do, Calum quickly pressed the button next to the bed that would alert nurses and doctors, standing to his feet as he looked down at Aspen, her hand holding his with a bit more power.

“Hi, baby, hi,” Calum whispered, unable to speak at any higher of a volume, not wanting to disturb her or cause her any headaches. But, God, was it so wonderful to see her eyes again. “Do—D’you want some water?”

Slowly, Aspen nodded and Calum shifted so he could pour some into the plastic cup, a straw already in it as he held it in front of her mouth, guiding the straw into her mouth before she took some sips to moisten her throat. Once she was done and Calum put the cup away, Aspen hoarsely asked, “What happened?”

As if on cue, Dr. Shaw came into the room, smiling in satisfaction when she saw an awake Aspen. The next few minutes seemed to be a blur, Aspen’s mom and Richie walking in behind Dr. Shaw as she recounted to Aspen what had happened, going over the accident and the details of her injuries after making sure she was coherent and asking if Aspen felt any pain anywhere. There was a discomfort in her torso, which was to be expected because of the broken ribs, and only a slight headache to which Dr. Shaw said she’d give some pain medication. The entire time, Calum couldn’t leave her side.

It wasn’t until everyone else left the room—Mrs. Russo, Richie and Laila spending some time in there—that Calum finally voiced his fright. “I thought I lost you.” Aspen’s green eyes flickered to look at him, lips parting at the sight of the utter fear etched onto his face, a look she’d never seen before nor did she ever want to see again. He was standing at her side, her hand in his, as he frowned down at the mattress rather than meeting her gaze. The way his raspy voice shook when he spoke had Aspen swallowing. “They wouldn’t tell us anything for the longest time and I just—I didn’t know what to think. I thought you were gone again.”

“Hey, no,” Aspen immediately spoke up, wishing she could lean closer to him without her body protesting. Instead, Aspen let go of his hand, sliding it up his chest before gripping the front of his shirt to tug him closer. Calum met her gaze, dark eyes watery and red rimmed from the tears he must’ve shed earlier, making Aspen’s heart sink to the very bottom of her stomach. The fact that he was so scared of her leaving, again, brought on a sharper pain than any injury she was inflicted with. “I’m here, okay? Just a little banged up but still here.” Her hand slid up to cup his cheek, the scruff on his face and the softness of his skin one of her favorite things. Calum leaned into her touch. “No way was I about to leave you and Luna.”

She offered him a smile, unable to imagine the fear he’d been in. Aspen knew, if the situation was reversed, she’d be losing her Goddamn mind. Her heart fluttered as Calum pressed a kiss to the heel of her palm, sniffling before asking, “D’you want me to bring Luna in here? I know she wants to see you.”

Aspen’s immediate response was to say yes, lips parting to already spew the answer, before the word got caught in her throat in hesitance. “Am I—” she cut herself off, feeling stupid for even thinking it, but the twist in her gut making her force the words out. “You don’t think she’ll be scared of this? Of me?”

Her fingers had brushed along her face when Dr. Shaw was explaining the cuts, feeling the small jagged scars of the cuts that pierced her skin. They’d heal soon, she knew, but the last thing Aspen wanted to do was scare her five year old daughter. To make her think Mama was some kind of monster. The thought made her stomach churn uncomfortably, but she didn’t want to scar Luna the way the glass scarred her skin.

“Of course not,” Calum answered, frowning when he understood what Aspen was saying. “Cuts or not, you’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, yeah? And I know Luna will definitely think so, too.” He smirked, small and boyish. “She’s my kid, after all.”

Aspen scoffed out a giggle, though tried not to laugh too much since it kind of hurt, as she pushed Calum away as he laughed as well. “Just go get my kid.”

Calum smiled, one of the first since that horrible phone call, feeling a lightness in his chest that he knew he’d feel at the sound of her voice and the sight of her eyes and smile. He told her a quick be right back before exiting the room, heading towards the waiting room where he immediately caught sight of Luna sitting on Luke’s lap, facing him as they played a round of patty cake.

“Lunes,” Calum announced his presence, catching the attention of her and his friends, grinning as Luna screeched Daddy! before scrambling off of Luke’s lap and running towards him. Calum grunted exaggeratedly as he bent down to pick her up. “Wanna go see Mama?”

At the mention of her mother, Luna nodded enthusiastically and Calum smiled before looking at his friends. “I really appreciate you guys staying here. Thank you.”

“No problem, Cal,” Michael immediately grinned. “We’ll come see Aspen in a bit, alright?”

Calum nodded, understanding that they were giving him and Aspen a moment with Luna, before he turned and took Luna to the room. As they approached it, though, Aspen’s words rung in Calum’s head, biting his lower lip at the insecurities she’d voiced. A few feet away from the door, Calum stopped and looked at Luna. “Hey, bug.” Her green eyes met his brown. “Mama’s a little hurt, okay? She’s gonna be fine, but she needs rest. She’s got some cuts on her face and her tummy hurts, so try not to jump on her, yeah?”

Luna, the ever wonderful listener, despite showing the worry in her eyes for her mother, nodded her head as she said, “Okay, Daddy.”

He kissed her temple, giving her a squeeze. “That’s my girl.” He walked to the door and opened it, grinning as he impishly looked at Aspen and announced dramatically, “Guess who came to visit!”

Aspen grinned happily, the sight of her giggling daughter brightening her face and uplifting her heart. Calum brought Luna over, sitting on the edge of his seat as he placed Luna on the bed, right next to Aspen, one arm around her back to ensure she didn’t fall off or something. “Hi, Mama,” Luna greeted excitedly, sitting on her knees. “I was waiting to see you but I fell asleep and then Uncle Luke and Uncle Mike took me to get ice cream.”

A breathless laugh escaped Aspen, Luna’s brief story bringing her more joy than she thought possible, the sound of Luna’s cute little lisp making Aspen’s heart beat just a bit quicker. “Really? What flavor did you eat?”

“Chocolate,” Luna answered. “Uncle Mike said vanilla is better but he’s wrong.” Calum snorted out a laugh at her matter-of-fact tone, exchanging an amused look with Aspen who pressed her lips together in a failed attempt to conceal her smile. Luna’s hand then came to lightly rest just above Aspen’s heart, calming down as she asked, “Mama, are you okay? Daddy said you were hurt.”

Calum chewed on his lower lip as Aspen’s expression softened, right hand cupping her daughter’s full cheek, never wanting any of her chubby cheeks to go away. “I’ll get better soon, bubba. Just need some rest and I’ll be good as new.”

“Are you gonna come home soon?” Luna asked as Aspen tucked some curls behind her ear. “Daddy and I can take care of you.”

Aspen smiled, eyebrows rising. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Luna nodded, turning her head to look at Calum expectantly. “Right, Daddy?”

“Right,” Calum agreed with a nod, standing up and behind Luna, letting her lean against his chest as his hand found Aspen’s. His heart was thundering up a storm in his chest, his girlfriend’s pretty green eyes meeting his brown ones as he put one arm around Luna, pressing her to him, though his gaze was on Aspen. “Wanna know why?”

Aspen gave his hand a squeeze, feeling a smile curl at her lips as she decided to play along and ask, “Why?”

Calum crouched down so his chin was resting on Luna’s small shoulder, obviously not putting his entire weight there, her curls tickling him and his curls tickling her. He looked at Aspen, who was smiling at both him and their little girl, and Calum decided that he’d spend too much of today in fear and worry to spend another second about fretting over anything else. Didn’t want another second to go by where he didn’t let the true extent of his feelings known to the person his heart belonged to.

So he smiled, true and honest and utterly genuine. “Because we love her.”

Calum watched as Aspen processed his words, caught the second they hit her as her smile faltered so her expression could fall into one of breathless shock, green eyes widening as she gaped at him. He watched the way her lips parted and throat worked, wanted to smile at the surprise on her face, wanted to kiss it away and replace it with complete reassurance that, yes, he loved her.

Maybe it was the emotions from the day or from the confession itself or both, but Aspen’s eyes turned glassy, rolling her lips into her mouth and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Calum as she asked in a whisper, “You do?”

Luna nodded enthusiastically, understandably not picking up on the intense moment her parents were sharing, and both Aspen and Calum let out a small laugh at her as Aspen ran her her down Luna’s curls. Her gaze returned to Calum, and there was an overwhelming fullness in her chest she couldn’t explain. Like all the air was rushing back, like she felt whole again.

“Of course,” Calum responded, his voice soft and smile just as charming. “Never stopped.”

Aspen nodded, more to herself than anyone else as she let herself revel in this, her cheeks beginning to hurt already from the smile splitting them. She wanted to cry, to laugh, to scream because the man she loved—it hadn’t even been a realization for her, just a fact—loved her right back and he never stopped? After everything, he never stopped loving her? 

How perfect. She never stopped loving him, either.

Aspen let him know just that, and Luna was not at all complaining being stuck between her parents as they shared a kiss that said more than words could ever hope to.

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