#like ill fuckin slice this mans open and be all whatever but what gets me is rat zander being gone like nooooo ; __ ;

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T Atonement AU-Sample Collection

Aight I return to y’all with this sexi lil bitch. Medical accuracy? Never heard of her 

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Ingredients: giant needle hours, lab whump, fingernail whump

That was, without a doubt, the largest needle he had ever seen. It was freakishly long and impossibly thick, and he couldn’t imagine it was for drawing blood.

He whined in terrified anticipation as Neteri sterilized part of his upper right arm, and did his best to keep himself from crying out into the gag as she cut out a small chunk of his skin and muscle. Then came the needle, sliding through the opening in his flesh. A shiver went up his spine as he felt it tap against bone, but oh, it didn’t stop there, it kept pushing, pressure building up against his bone until it punched through with a sickening crack. He screamed as a bolt of pain shot up his arm, shuddering as he felt the needle slide deeper inside his bone.

The needle stayed in there for a few minutes, drawing out whatever it was she wanted from in there. He kept his gaze focused on the now-blank ceiling, tears watering out his vision every few moments. He can never seem to stop crying nowadays, and today is no exception. When she slid the needle back out he couldn’t help but whine, escalating into a scream as her healing magic closed up the hole she’d made in his arm.

Something cold touched an equivalent spot on his left arm, and his heart sank. She was going to do the same thing again, wasn’t she? Yes, yes, once again his flesh was cut out and collected, once again the huge needle punctured his bone, once again everything was painfully healed up like nothing had ever even happened.

Next, she gripped his right thumb tightly, keeping his hand still, and he didn’t understand why until he felt something grab onto his fingernail and start to pull. He screamed but she kept pulling despite his muffled pleas of no no wait stop please I won’t ever try to run please- The pitch-black nail wrenched free, choking an inhuman cry out of him as raw agony raced up his entire arm. The pain almost doubled as she started healing it, forcing the fingernail to grow back unnaturally fast, wrenching out all manner of wails.

Even when the healing and the pain finally stopped, it was still too much. He sobbed, what was even the point of this if she was just going to heal everything back up? But he knew why, he knew all too well she was just taking away pieces of him so she could study them. It was all he was good for now, being sliced up and studied and put on display-

Her hand wrapped around his left thumb, pliers gripping the nail.

He screamed before she even started pulling.

Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump @unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #atonement au #erebus #neteri #lab whump #needles #fingernail pulling #fingernail whump #the saddest thing in this entire au is the removal of rat zander #he has been scrubbed from the ceiling but not from our hearts #like ill fuckin slice this mans open and be all whatever but what gets me is rat zander being gone like nooooo ; __ ; #he will never die in canon he will live on forever as best ceiling boy dont worry #this snippet is just: erebus cries and screams for 20 min (little fuckin bitch) #neteri is just gettin some samples to compare his two arms #she's collecting bone marrow with the needle #a lil chunk of flesh and skin #and a fingernail from each hand #it's on the list of ''things she would like to investigate but wouldnt normally do to him because that would be cruel'' #because really if he behaves she doesnt want to be mean to him #but now is the time to completely destroy any resistance he might have so no holding back for her #me: i dont have the mental energy to do shit rn #also me: writes this bullshit #seriously 2 of these au pieces were written during my breaktime hours #but i couldnt even post them right away because posting writing is too anxiety inducing to do unmedicated so it was just sitting there #waiting #but maybe it was like ''i feel like shite time to pull off erebus's fingernails about it'' #i love nothing more than hurting my little toy :) he deserves it

[babytaes]

the grim reaper(my home)

summary:  Everyone depicts the Grim Reaper as a bad character, but he didn't kill you. It's just a trip to the afterlife, and he's actually being helpful by walking you there. Consider what it would be like if you had to travel alone. As she battles through life, Jay meets an unexpected figure, yet she doesn't seem to be terrified of him when he comes knocking on her door, why?

paring: jay x female reader

genre: angst, slight fluff

word count: 6k

warnings: profanity, ummmm rock chic jay.

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: click me before reading!

➳ part of the drunk & dazed series

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

I wish that everyone knew how their lives ended. It's essentially a game of guessing what will happen to you. Don't even get me started on the subject of Heaven and Hell. You've heard it all, the misery and the heinous methods in which people go out.

But why did death come knocking on the door at such an early age? You'll never know why they chose this age.

You didn't have your entire life laid out for you, nah, what a waste. Seeing it, however, was strange.

Well, there's him, or whatever entity they're referring to. The Grim Reaper.

You didn't notice him until things began to go wrong for you. A black object flashed in and out all of a sudden.

It was more predictable than unexpected.

Usually you would see him after work but I guess he had other plans. Despite your exhaustion, you flopped down on the couch and pulled out your phone to conduct an online search.

You giggled as you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and eventually peeked up to see a dark figure seated across from you.

As you laid your phone down and peered at the figure, you said, "So he finally wants to show his face."

“Don't tell me you can see me right now?” he cocks his head and looks about before returning to you.

“Well, I've only seen glimpses of you for the previous few weeks, but now I'm seeing you in all your glory.”

“Shit” As he hurriedly shot back into the dark shadows behind him, he widened his eyes.

“Wait a minute, don't leave.”

He was still there, hidden from view. He wasn't ready to leave yet. As you moved over to the door, you rolled your eyes at your phone and grabbed your apron. As you put your shoes back on, you exclaim and awkwardly wave your hand in the air before closing the door.

“You better be here when I get back, and keep in mind that we have business to discuss."

He rolled his eyes at your strange conduct as he smiled gently before vanishing back into the dark abyss, now entirely gone from your home.

---

“So Jay, what's on the agenda in Reaper business?” He noticed his old acquaintance gleaming at him as he peered up from his chair.

“Well, Jake, the previous several weeks have been a complete nightmare. They paired me up with this tough guy who was fighting for his life. As he continued, he rolled his eyes.

“It's been quite tranquil since they reassigned me to another case, but something strange happened today. I inadvertently made myself obvious to her, but she was unconcerned.

“Weird.” Jake shook his head and cocked his head to the side as he called out to him.

“So, two pieces of information I just got: it's a girl, and she appears to be somewhat odd. When you get back, I'd like to hear more about this."

As you put on a strange expression, he smiled at the boy as he spoke about jobs he had recently gone on.

“Yeah, there's something odd about it,” 

“I also—wait a minute, Jay, I recognize that look.” Jake pauses in his speech for a moment as he approaches you and analyzes your body.

“Please, dude, take a step back.”

He hears on the intercom times for a meeting today for all Reapers to attend, and he laughs at you. Jake makes a peace sign as he hits the door's slab and vanishes from view.

Sitting back in your chair, you raise your feet and begin to formulate a strategy.

“What am I doing here? I'm a doer. Let me just return to her and have that conversation she requested.”

He steps into form and vanishes back to the house he used to be in, softly cheering to himself.

Surprisingly, he can hear your voice but not yet see you, so he emerges from the shadows and takes a stroll through your home, taking in your life.

He saw photos of dogs and people he assumed were family and friends, as well as one thing that attracted his attention.

As he approaches it, he enters a familiar room and sighs as he makes his way to the gleaming object. It was a bracelet with scribing on it of some type.

When he reaches out to pick it up, he feels a searing feeling and drops it swiftly, muttering a torrent of curse words.

“What the hell was that?” When he looks closely, he notices symbols that resemble a cross.

“Fuckin Christ,” 

“Do all Reapers barge into your house and search through their belongings on the spur of the moment, or is mine defective?”

Jay, who has jumped up in panic, apologizes by turning around and raising his hands. When he glances up, he notices you resting on the door frame, arms folded, staring at him.

“Well, let's just put this inconvenience behind us and have that conversation you wanted to have, hmm?”

“All right, let's go into the living room, and by the way, your style is really fashionable. I had no idea you people dressed up so well to steal souls. Are there any employment openings?”

As he comes to a halt in his tracks, you turn your head to face him and stare at his unmoving form.

“Hellooo, please don't tell me they gave me a defective one. Jeez”

For a brief moment, everything came to a halt as Jay regained his bearings. "That was strange. Why am I blanking out because she's so strange?”

With a shake of his head, he smiles at you and walks into the living room, where he sits across from you, still perplexed as to who and what you are.

It wasn’t human-like.

“Thank you, no one seemed to realize that the original reaper gear wasn't cutting it for me. Also, I'm presuming you're a young adult, so you know what I'm talking about.”

You pull closer to him, laughing at his words, and lay your elbows on your legs, intently listening to him.

“So Grandma was right, you guys do exist. Tell me more; you know I don't appear to have much time left, so give me your answers.”

He let out a chuckle as he hastily covered his mouth, daring not to be affected by the earth.

He'd been doing this work for quite some time and appeared to be quite confident in himself and his abilities.

But there was something about you that made him feel comfortable and at ease, and he didn't feel like he had to hide, very apparent when a patient screamed at him or when they insisted death hadn't arrived yet.

It was strange, but it was great not to have to put on a show. Outside of the Reaper, he almost forgot who he was for a moment.

Maybe this one could get to know you, the cool yet elegant Jay. Not the dark version of himself. Even if his ultimate goal is to accompany you to the hereafter.

Maybe, just maybe, in that slim possibility, he'll take advantage of this opportunity to learn more about this person and why they're so interested in you.

---

“Before we jump right into this game, I have a question for you: why aren't you terrified of me?” As he stared at your blank expression, he spat out.

“Well, as I already stated, my grandma was a firm believer in the unknown. Even though she is no longer with us, she has taught me a great deal about the supernatural and unknown.”

You got up and walked over to the kitchen, motioning for him to follow you before opening the refrigerator and taking some fresh fruit out.

Jay promptly stood up and walked over to the chair, where he sat, watching your every move as you leapt onto the counter and turned to face him, before placing a mango slice into your mouth.

“All right, my turn, what's your name and what's my illness?”

Jay coughed and sat up straight as he removed a piece of paper from his pocket and read it loudly before setting it down.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you've been diagnosed with Heart Disease, and things aren't looking well for you. I know you haven't been to the doctor in a while, which is also perplexing. And my name is Jay.”

You place the fruit down next to you and cross your legs before responding to his comment, shaking your head up and down.

“Well, that's true; it runs in the family, but I'm not concerned because time is never on our side, and we all have an expiry date, which I believe is approaching soon. Right?”

Jay knew you just had one week left, but he didn't want to break your cheerful mood, so he waited.

“Well, I can't tell you when you'll die just yet, but your time is running out. I'm sure it's terrifying, but-”

Before concealing your lips, you chuckle loudly. Jay snickered as he looked up at you.

“Man, you're such a strange person; how do you manage to be so confident and direct? I'm becoming a little afraid, and I'm the Grim Reaper.” You leap from the countertop and walk over to him.

You cocked your head to the side and placed your hands on his face, pushing your face towards him. As you smile, his face flushes, and as he pulls away from you, he coughs before moving his hand to encourage you to continue.

“You have nice eyes, you know. Okay, now I'll tell you my story. Instead of countless questions, I believe it would be simpler.”

He just nods his head and lets you continue talking about your life.

---

As we all crossed the bridge into the next city over, you glanced out the window at the water. You'd always enjoyed being near water. It brought up memories of trips you and your grandparents took together.

When you arrived at your location, you grabbed your suitcase and exited the vehicle, leaving your parents behind.

“Are you sure you don't want to join us?” As they drove out of the parking lot and onto their vacation, you shook your head and waved farewell to them.

Even though you were 17, you still enjoyed going to your grandparents' house because it provided a sense of security that you didn't have at home. So you'd take them in a heartbeat.

Looking up, you notice Pops standing at the door, arms outstretched, waiting for you.

“There is my favorite grandchild.”

“Gramps, I'm your only grandchild,” you said, laughing as you took him in your arms and grinned as you stepped into the house.

“Oh, that's right.” He takes your stuff and starts to take it to your allotted room while laughing together. “Your Grams is out back,” he shouts as he approaches the top.

‘Thanks” When you walk out to the backyard, you'll find her sitting in her iconic chair, surrounded by books, muttering to herself. She puts the book down and leans in to hug you as she stands up.

“Aww, I've missed you so much. There's just so much you can talk about with your grandfather before he falls asleep. Please have a seat; we have a lot to discuss."

There's a sensation you've been missing, a sense of belonging to a place you once called home. They were the only ones who could supply you with a sense of safety and security, and you couldn't get enough of it.

“We talked about witches and wizards the last time we were here. Now we're dealing with Reapers, or more precisely Grim.”

When she stated those two words, your eyes lit up; it was a favorite topic of yours that she brought up frequently, but now you had more time to delve deeper.

“Let's get started; we've got a lot of ground to cover. Allow us to see The Unknown by opening our eyes. “Are you wearing your bracelet?”

“I never take it off,” you say. You shook your right arm and returned your hand to hers, shaking your head.

As you were swept away in a dark mist together, you grinned and took her hands in yours. Even though they appear to be ordinary, decent folks, there is something you should know about my grandparents. They are one of many people who have gained entrance to the supernatural realm, a place where anything is possible.

You tried to inform your parents, but they were skeptical of fairy tales. They tried to prevent you from seeing them, claiming that "they will stunt my growth," which is ridiculous because I've learnt more from my grandparents than from my parents.

Regardless of how hard they tried to stop you, you always managed to find your way back to them. We were linked, and nothing could stop you until YOU chose to let it. That day, however, never came.

You found yourself in a boat, holding your grandmother's hand, as it carried you across a vast chasm and into town. You come upon another boat that appears to be some kind of creature with a scythe. As he traveled down the river opposite you, strands of golden hair protruded from beneath his hood.

“Wait, don't tell me that person on the river was you now that I think about it?”

“I think it was, man, that was a long time ago,” Jay laughed and shook his head. Also, I had no idea you had access to that world?”

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to the story.” As you spoke, he grinned.

“All right, honey, let's go; we can't linger for too long.” You both stepped off the boat and walked into town, taking in the sights. As you climbed the slope, merchants' stands and buildings crept up on you. It was weird to see individuals of all kinds here, going about their daily lives in the same way that those on the surface did.

You see vampires, werewolves, angels, and even ghouls all lingering together and with one another as you walk side by side with your grams. Despite the fact that they all had their own lives to live, they could join together to gather supplies and meals.

What a wonderful thing

You both entered a familiar building, and your grandma greeted the old man behind the counter.

“Oh, my favorite customers. What brings you down here and how is life above the surface? Another book you have in mind.”

Your Grams smiled as she let go of your hand and approached the man at the front of the bookstore, “you always know Melvin.”

As they conversed, you strolled through the big store on your way to the second floor. Before reaching the top, you yell out to Melvin.

“I'm hoping you'll let me take one.”

“Anything for my sweet Y/N, go ahead and look, there's a new one up there.” You hurried up the steps and across to the Book Wall, grinning ear to ear. From baby dragons to spell books, there was something for everyone. Anything you can imagine Melvin’s shop had it all.

When you took one off the shelf, you were greeted by a young boy who stood next to you. You couldn't tell if he was your age since down here, time moves at a different pace than it does on the surface. Still he looked quite young.

It was pleasant to see the creatures up close, even if you had never met them before. You stepped away from him, afraid of his reaction, and made your way to the chair sections. You sat down and picked up a book titled "The Origins of Reapers."

“How did you get here? I've never seen a girl human down here before.” You looked up from your book to see the boy you'd seen previously, frightened that he'd do something. You closed your eyes and shook your bracelet in front of his face.

As he waited for you to settle down, he laughed and sat next to you.

“I'm not going to harm you; all I wanted to do was ask a question. My name is Jake, what is yours?”

“My name is Y/N, and my grandparents have access to the world, so I tag along occasionally, may I inquire what you are?” you said slowly as you sat up straight.

He shifted in his seat and grinned, his face more dog-like. How could you be afraid of him?

“Well, don't be afraid of me since I'm a Grim Reaper in Training. I'm fairly innocuous. It's nice to see a human down here; normally, we only see humans when it's their time.”

You hear your grandmother calling from downstairs before he can continue.

“Coming”

You return his gaze and apologize as you rise, book in hand, and make your way to the stairwell.

“It was a pleasure to meet such a lovely human; please pay a visit to the Reaper Realm when you return. Simply request Jake.” He gave you a wave before yelling at Melvin.

“I'm leaving Melvin; my book is on your desk up here.”

As you return your attention to Jake, you hear Melvin's remark, but he vanishes into thin air as you descend the steps. Your grandmother expresses her gratitude to Melvin for the choice and exits through the front door.

“Are you all set to depart, sweetie?” With a shake of your head, you bid Melvin farewell as you close the door and return to the boat, where you sit down and take your gram's hand in yours.

"Let's go home," says your grandmother.

---

“So yeah, I've been traveling there with them ever since they introduced me to your world.” You came to a halt in the middle of your walk and coughed, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“My grandparents died a few years ago, and I haven't been back in a long time because I used to only go with them. It was doubly difficult because they both died on the same day, and she was telling me that she could see him on that day. I'm hoping she meant the Reaper, because they were the last thing to see them leave.”

You grabbed his arms on the spur of the moment and violently shook them.

“I know you must have records someplace, but could you please assist me in locating them as part of my dying wish? At the very least, let me see where they went; I need to know if they're okay.”

So this was the true you, the one in desperate need of a reconnection with the Gone. You received your response and devised a plan.

“Hey, don't worry... I'll see what I can do.  But there's no guarantee. I wasn't on the case at the time, so I'll have to do some digging, but I'll try.  “Can you tell me their names?”

Wiping tears from your eyes, you rose from your chair and dashed to your room, calling him over.

When you opened a box from under your bed, there were wonderful memories from you and your grandparents inside. You attempted to obtain more, but everything was returned to the Underworld, leaving you with only this.

Jay knelt down and picked up a photograph of you and them. They were regulars, and he had seen them around town. Hopefully, in the short time she had left, you could help her.

“Elizabeth and Albert Marvin were their names. I'm not sure if there's anything else I can do to assist you, but please do your best." As you hurriedly covered your mouth with your palm, a harsh cough came from your throat, and your chest began to throb as you placed your hand on your heart.

It was obvious that time was not on your side. You rise off the ground and walk over to Jay, looking up at him. You wrapped your arms around his frigid body, engulfing him in a hug.

Jay stood there awkwardly with his arms down as he gently moved you off and returned to the couch area.

“Like I said, there's no guarantee that I'll find them, and who knows, they could not even be alive. But I’ll try my best. It was a pleasure to speak with you, but I must depart because we are running out of time.”

He gave you a beeper before vanishing.

“Please page me on here if you need to reach me; I'll do my best to respond. You look after yourself.” 

You waved farewell as he left your house and returned to his, where he continued his exhaustive investigation.

He didn't want to let you down because he felt such a responsibility to you. He would complete whatever task he was given. He would do anything for you if he could see that smile on your face.

“Let's get down to business.”

---

 “Jay...Jay wake up” As you awoke slowly from your arms, you felt a push on your shoulder. As your eyes adjusted to the bright light, it took some time to figure out who was interrupting you.

“W-What exactly is it, Jake?” You and Jake have been coming in every day for the past five days, attempting to find a solution to your problem. Jake may have discovered something despite the difficulties.

“So, I just had an epiphany,  last time I saw Y/N she was at Melvin bookstore, so let's see if he knows anything about them.” You leapt from your chair and snatched a jacket as you ushered Jake out the door and toward Melvin.

For you and y/n, things were starting to look up.

Maybe you were going to do something good for one of your friends souls.

As you and Jake approached Melvin's business, you inhaled deeply and opened the door, eager to hear what he had to say to you.

Melvin's attention was drawn to the bell sound, and he looked up from his spectacles, saying, "Hey youngsters, what brings you here?"

“Well, we had a question for you regarding an old friend of yours, does Elizabeth Marvin ring a bell?” He pulled a photograph from his back pocket and presented it to him; his face darkened as he held the photograph in his hands and smiled broadly at it.

“Oh, my favorite customers. I don't have much information, but the last time they were in here, they were in a hurry and seemed concerned. “We have to make the crossing,” Elizabeth kept emphasizing.

As you and Jake turned to each other, you both had a frightened expression on your faces.

“Don't tell me they took the Crossing, shit,” says Jay You turned around and proceeded towards the door, thanking Melvin, while Jake grinned and waved farewell before heading out the door. He discovered you slumped against the wall, head down, groaning.

“Jay, please don't thin-”

“Keep your mouth shut Jake, because you know no one survives the Crossing without a guide. There are just too many wicked spirits out there, and you and I both know that getting to the finish is impossible. Jay growled as he stood up and kicked whatever was closest to him.

“Ugh, why did I do that?” 

Jake approached his friend and patted his back, unsure of how he would react. It was a small gesture. He knew it was impossible, but he didn't want his best friend to know. They still needed to be encouraged.

“I'm going back to headquarters to see what else we can find; meet me back there, okay?” As he watched Jake go from his sight, Jay nodded and thanked him for his assistance.

He didn't know what else to do, so he had to break the dreadful news to you. It turned out to be for the best. He was good at one thing: conveying bad information to others. What an ironic Reaper. With a shake of your head, you prepared to go to Y/N's flat.

Here goes nothing.

Jay was gone in a flash of dust and now stood in a familiar location, squinting as everything appeared to be different. Jay spotted clothes strewn on the floor, dishes scattered in the sink, and the bathroom's random lights flashing.

He was so preoccupied with the status of the house that he didn't see that your time was slowly eating away at you, that you were holed up under blankets in the bedroom with chest discomfort and dizziness that came and went.

Your once-young body was losing its ability to hold on to life. As you coughed loudly and grinned as you motioned for him to come over to you, you looked up and noticed him standing in the doorway.

You quietly sighed as you slowly climbed up, your hand resting on your chest.

‘So-so any news captain. “I need something to take my mind off the pain.”

As he prepared his message, Jay didn't make eye contact with you as he lifted your blanket over your body and patted it down. This felt different than relaying bad news as the “BIG AND BAD GRIM REAPER” As he was going to burst your bubble, something inside ached. What do people refer to it as? Sadness.

What exactly did you do to him?

“So, Y/N, please wait until I finish before you speak.” He took a big breath and continued, his lips curling in. “We've at a dead end; Jake and I spoke with Melvin, who indicated they were discussing the "Crossing," which in Grim Reaper lingo means "no go." That's a place where no one ever returns; it's only conceivable if you have a guide, which I'm not sure they did. They could be lost or worse, stolen by a spirit, for all I know. I-, I'm sorry, but I'm not sure.”

He heard your voice and looked down, avoiding eye contact. "It's okay Jay,"   He jerked up and glanced at your frail form, perplexed and terrified. In the light of your candle, he could see better, but death was creeping up on him. He just had a day  before he had to take you. He wasn't pleased with the situation or with you.

“It was a big ask, but I'm happy you and Jake did your hardest,” you said, a tear streaming down your cheek. That's all I requested, and despite the fact that it didn't work out, I liked the gesture, so thank you.”

“Thanks for doing business with you,” you said with a grin on your face as you extended your hand to him. As you looked him in the eyes, he took your weak hands in his and gently shook them.

“What, do I have something on my face? I don't want to appear unkempt.” You laughed and reached for your hands to be unlatched from his grip. Rather than releasing go, he drew you closer to him and kissed your gentle lips.

As you released each other, he wasn't thinking; in reality, he was panicked.

“Um- I don’t know what that is but I have to go. Sorry, I'll pick you up tomorrow-” “Please don't go,” you said as you took a big breath and clutched his hand. If I'm being honest, I'm afraid, and I could use some companionship before I take my final breath.”

“Sleep well y/n, we have a long walk tomorrow,” he said as he sat down on the bed and took your hand in his again before turning off the lamp. When you felt a squeeze in your palm, you smiled and laid over, allowing sleep to take control.

---

You were startled awake by Jay, who sat across from you, peering at the clock, as though intently staring at it.

You scooted up and waved a hand in front of his face to grab his attention, but he continued to stare at the clock.

“You have a few hours left, you know? Sorry, I was just doing some math." He turned to face you as you stumbled out of bed, grasping the bedside table before lifting yourself up like a drunk woman.

“Oh, well, it appears that my body is shutting down. Fun.” As you pushed him out of the room, you gave him a thumbs up.

“Let me get dressed; I want to look my best for when I DIE!” Jay was startled and furrowed his brows as he walked slowly to his seat, pondering why this generation was so eager to die.

You put on a cute hoodie your grandmother gave you and threw on some pants. As you fumbled about for shoes, you heard Jay ask a question from the other side of the door that made you pause.

'Are you going to call your parents or someone else?'

When you think back on your life, you were in theirs, but not much of them were in yours, which made you resentful of them. You didn't dislike them; you just preferred to spend your time and energy with people who made you feel at ease.

Your grandparents made you feel that way and you didn't have time to waste on people who you could care less about.

“I guess I'll send a text over.” Huffing, you took out your phone and entered your message into an already-created group chat.

"Hey guys, I'm not feeling well, could you come tomorrow?" you say.

(read 10:25 a.m.)

(typing bubbles)

(bubbles disappears)

Mom: This is such a last-minute thing, but your father and I are leaving tomorrow for a business trip that will last a week. Maybe when we come back. I'll send Sylvia over because I gave her the day off. “Be careful.”

Throwing your phone you yelled aggressively as you looked around your space. Even while you're dying, they don't give a damn about you. What is fucking family anymore?  You took one final look at your bed before stepping out and calling Jay, as if you didn't care any longer.

“Hey you good, I heard screaming but didn't want to interrupt if you were nude or something,” he said, looking up at your hesitant face. As you passed him on your way to the door, a smile crept across your lips.

“Oh shut up, come on, I got a request.”

Jay got up and walked past you as you turned to see your whole life stored away in a small space. Even if you didn't know where Jay would lead you, you had a feeling it would be better, right?

“Goodbye” As you walked slowly to your car in the parking lot, you grabbed Jay's hand in yours as you closed the door. As you held his hand even more, you felt it tense up.

“Hey what was that for?”

“You whine a lot, don't you? Come on, I've got a few more dying wishes before you take me and send me off somewhere, let's fucking go.”

He saw you let go of your hand as you walked to the opposite side of your car, hopped in, and turned on the ignition.

“Are you sure you're up for this? I don't want you passing out on me.”

Jay rushed next to you as he reached for your shoulder as a cough steadily burst from your throat, causing you to grasp your chest in anguish. You shook your head and gave your body a couple shakes as you waved your hand at him.

“I'm good, you know the exact time, so give me a heads up whenever I'm close.” “Anyway, less about my condition and more on the fun we're about to have.”

You put your foot on the brake and drove out the parking lot and on your way to the boardwalk that was a good distance away.

“Sit back, it'll be around 2 hours before we get to my favorite spot.”

Jay offered you a troubled expression as he laid his head on the window, pondering the time you had left while gazing out the window.

*8 hours left, you had eight hours left*

---

Coming up over the infamous hill, you notice the blue seas and immediately begin to brighten up as you repeatedly punch Jay in the arm.

“Jay... Jay... JAYYYY loook were here,” He grabbed your hand and swung it the other way before slowly turning to face you before your final punch. Don't bother Reapers while they're asleep; they don't get enough sleep as it is, and constantly bringing souls is exhausting.

“Please stopp I heard you the first five fucking times.” As he turned back to face the water, he rolled his eys and chuckled a little. The way the waves drenched the salty surface back and forth was more than simply water; it was an artwork.

Even though this might be your last moments on earth, you were glad you found someone to spend them with as you saw Jay's look. You put your hand on his shoulder and signaled for you to depart.

He stepped out of the car, mesmerized by the quiet waters, and walked over to your side, his gaze never leaving the sea.

“It's strange, I've seen my days of oceans before, and I've probably gone to all of them many times, but this one feels different. For a little moment, I forgot I wasn't human. Oh that remind me”

Jay rotated in a circle as he appeared to you dressed in more fashionable attire to placate the human crowd. He clutched your arm as he lost his footing for a second, then raced forward towards the boardwalk, thanking you.

“Hurry up, I didn't transform into a normal male for nothing, I want to see what you folk do up here.” He sneaked a glimpse at you as you laughed heartily at him, and before he knew it, you were running past him, his hand in yours, and on your way to the boardwalk's many attractions.

Spilled ice cream cups, lost money from arcade games, the sides of yours and his faces scorching from a lack of sunscreen, and not to mention the continual brushing of each other's hands were all part of the day. You took Jay's hand as the crowds filtered off the boardwalk and brought him to one of your favorite areas, the sand. As you approach the ocean now that the sun has lowered somewhat, it feels chilly.

As you stand in the cool ocean, letting the waves wash over your feet and taking a deep breath, attempting to relax, you feel a touch on your back. When you open your eyes, you notice Jay standing next to you, his gaze fixed on you. You laughed and placed your head on his shoulder; he didn't flinch or react this time.

He'd become accustomed to it and even loved it.

“How much time do we have left? Will I miss the sunset? Please say no.” You drooped your lips and glanced towards him, anxiously awaiting his response.

“Don't worry, you'll have time,” he said, taking your hand in his and pulling you down further away from the water as you both watched at the ball of light travelling toward the horizon.

The dazzling and flaming sun began to be swallowed by the sky as nightfall approached. The sky suddenly fills with beautiful, rich colors ranging from soothing blues to powerful reds and bright oranges, and finally thin, melancholy clouds.

Jay drew you closer, which surprised you, but you didn't mind because it was getting colder and fewer people were leaving the beach, leaving fragments of people strewn about. Jay drew your attention to himself before relaying the news to you.

Allow me to speak before I say what I truly need to say; these past three weeks have been incredible and eye-opening. I had no idea there were individuals out there that battled and were as brave as you. I understand how difficult it must be to go through all of these changes, but-”

A tear trickled down your face as you coughed, interrupting his speech.

*10 minutes left*

“Oh don’t start crying,” “All I wanted to say is thank you for allowing me to experience something different than my typical routine,” you joked as you pushed his chest. I don't get out very often, but tonight was enjoyable; I hope it distracted you from your worries.”

As you clasped your chest and pulled Jay out of worry, a fast cough attack hit your system.

*5 minutes left*

“I-i woul-l-d love to talk more about our fond memories but my chest is hurting and I think you need to get to the point.” You unbunched his shirt from your fist and let him continue, smiling despite your pain.

He embraced you in his arms because he was afraid he wouldn't have enough time to relay everything.

“Fuck it” 

He drew you in and kissed you again, this time more passionately than before. Your heart skipped a beat as heat rose from your stomach to your chest, and you weren't sure if it was a legitimate emotion or your condition was approaching. As you drew him closer to you, flinging your arms around his neck and smiling, the fragrance of salty sea water filled your nostrils. This moment, the taste of him… It calmed your racing thoughts and made you feel as if your heart was slowing down.

*1 minute left*

As you backed away from his kiss, your eyesight faded in and out, and as you looked about, your vision in the inner corners of your eyes started to go black. It was occurring, and your time was running out. You staggered into Jay's arms as he spoke into your ear, looking back at him.

“See you on the other side Y/N”

---

When you first awoke, you peered around at the dark waters, then looked up to see the real Jay. His Scythe's blade gleamed in the moonlight, and his velvet hood blew in the breeze. Not turning around you heard his voice, distinctly differently than before.

“Get ready, we're closing in on our dock.”

You slowly stood up and felt a prickling sensation on your wrist as you noticed your bracelet was lightly shining, something it had never done before. Perhaps it was the moonlight reflecting off of it.

You observed three figures standing at the dock through the mist and tried to figure out who they were. You didn't realize it until you got off the boat.

“Gramps and Gram, what?” Your voice trembled as tears streamed down your cheeks. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“Is this a joke,” As you grabbed them in a deep hug, a hand pushed you closer to them.

“We missed you pumpkin.” You turned around and went towards the dark figure, making sure not to hit his Scythe as you drew Jay into a hug as you got snot on his coat.

“I thought you said you couldn't find them,” you remarked. “I had given up hope.” His face was obscured by a black gloom, so you couldn't see him.

“Um, sorry but could you change back to your normal self, just this once.” Jay reappeared in his usual body, simply regular old Jay, in a split second.

“I apologize for forgetting about that, but please don't thank me. It was all my pal Jake over there.” You turned around and raced over to Jake, hugging him and almost shoving him off the dock.

“Thank you thank you so much, I owe you one.” “Don't worry about it,” he said as he stepped back.

After letting go of him, you returned to the location where your grandparents were standing and took their hands in yours. It was time for you to leave, and all you had to do was walk away.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, you came to a halt and turned around to face him. It didn't take long for you to run back into his arms.

“I'm not usually this way, but I'm glad I found someone I can call a friend.” Jay, I hope we run across each other. Thank you for everything; I just wanted to let you know that your efforts are appreciated.”

You let him go and wave to him after pulling him into a goodbye kiss. You hear him calling out to you.

“I think I like you Y/N?”

“Well, I think we should talk about that the next time I see you.” You turn back and continue on your journey, giggling at his childish antics as you fade into the darkness.

As he and Jake hopped back into the boat to return home, Jay's smile never faded.

“I told you so”

“Oh shut it.”

He'd finally found that thing you'd always talked about, that haven where you felt so comfortable that the rest of the world couldn't possibly come crashing down around you. He was overjoyed to have discovered his HOME and vowed to do everything in his power to ensure he never lost it.

“See you soon Y/N.”

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

➳ Navigate to the Maze

#enhypen #enhypen writers #enhypen series #enhypen jay #enhypen jay park #jay park #jay #jay enhypen #enhypen reactions #en- #kpop au #enhypen au #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen masterlist #babytaes works

[nanoland]

Title: Besyd the scarcety of bread amowngst us

Fandom: Supernatural 

Pairing: Crowley/Dean Winchester

Summary: In which Dean asks a question.

Warnings: Crowley being Extremely traumatized and kind of oblivious to that fact + SPN demons being SPN demons (i.e. remorseless bodysnatchers) + Dean being his casually misogynistic self + graphic descriptions of starvation + exhibitionism (sorta?) + sexually explicit content because this was MEANT to be straightforward smut and then Crowley happened, the prick.

Also on AO3!

0  

“So how come you aren’t a hot chick?”

The glass stills an inch from Crowley’s pale lips. “I humbly beg your pardon?”

It’s late. The bar’s quiet. He doesn’t need Dean to repeat himself. Just a moment to decide on a response.

Well on the way to utterly shit-faced, Dean gestures vaguely, meaninglessly. “You offer people stuff. Then, ten years later, you drag ‘em to Hell. And – and they know that’s what’s gonna happen if they make a deal with you. Which means that you gotta be real fuckin’ persuasive. Which you are. Grade A Bullshit Artist and don’t I know it. But... uh, what was I gonna… yeah, wouldn’t it be easier, right, just way easier if you were a hot chick?”

Crowley can tell he’s not done, so he keeps his silver tongue behind his faintly yellowed teeth for the moment.

While Dean is usually delightful company, in his surly, macho way, this evening there’s an uncommonly obnoxious edge to everything he says. That almost certainly means his insecurities over what he’s been letting Crowley do to his arse lately are acting up.

Understandable. Still annoying.

So Crowley’s more than willing to let his favourite human dig himself a wee bit deeper before pouring boiling tar into the pit.

After quickly throwing back the last of his drink, Dean goes on: “Now, I didn’t go to some dickslurp business school. I ain’t that brand of asshole. But I’ve seen enough beer ads in my time to have an idea of how marketing works. You got something you want people to buy? Fastest way is to get a hot chick in a bikini to hold it up. Because guys have most of the money in this shitty world of ours and guys think with their dicks. I know I do. So why did you decide to possess someone who looks like a balding, middle-aged banker going through a stressful divorce? That ain’t enticing. That ain’t capturing anyone’s interest. Y’know?”

“Mm,” says Crowley, and stands up.

“Fuck’re you doing?” Dean slurs, watching him take off his tie.

“Ever heard of the Seven Ill Years, Squirrel?”

“Nope. Seriously, what’re you doing?”

Draping his overcoat over the back of his chair along with his tie, Crowley sets about taking off his jacket. “‘The Seven Ill Years’ refers to a particularly shitty time in early modern Scotland; the 1690s.”

He tugs off his costly leather shoes and places them side-by-side under his chair. “I was in my… early thirties at the time, I think. Thirty-two? Maybe thirty-one. Whatever.”

Dean is gaping now. He’s never seen Crowley without his outer layers, much less the growing slice of exposed chest as Crowley unbuttons his shirt.

“For a lot of complicated reasons relating to oceanic thermohaline circulation, solar activity, and a few ill-timed volcanos, the weather turned rotten. These days, it’s called the Little Ice Age. Us pigshit stupid peasants who lived through it didn’t know anything about all that. All we knew was that it was freezing bloody cold and the crops kept dying.”

“Dude,” Dean hisses, red-faced as Crowley sets his shirt alongside his jacket and overcoat. “Stop it! We’re going to be thrown out!”

“No. Look around. Is anyone paying attention to us? Precisely. We’re invisible to them at the moment, Squirrel. One of my little tricks.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s good. But that’s still not an excuse to take your fucking pants off in public oh my God oh my God!”

They’re expensive pants and Crowley takes care to fold them before putting them down. “To cut a long story short; famine struck. And famine, it’s…”

Crowley pauses, thinking, ignoring Dean’s pathetic attempts not to gawk at his dick.

“It’s hard to describe famine to someone who hasn’t lived through one,” he says eventually. “Language – English, at least – isn’t equipped to convey what it feels like to be so hungry you’ll try to boil and eat someone else’s shoes. Then someone else’s children. Then your own children. There are no words for it. Or, if in some distant corner of our monstrous universe there are, then they’re words that would drive a human raving mad to speak them.”

Naked now but for his black socks, Crowley scratches his stubble. “Sometimes I think that’s why I got on so well in Hell.”

He sits back in his chair. Folds his legs. Taps his fingers on the side of his empty glass. “Don’t get me wrong; having someone cut open your lungs, fill them with scorpions, and sew them up again isn’t fun. But – how can I put this? – you can process it. You can grapple with it. You know why you’re suffering; because you’re in Hell, and that’s what Hell is for. It makes sense. What doesn’t make sense is going about your everyday life and watching all the people around you – the baker, the priest, the prettiest girl in the village – go about theirs while they turn into walking skeletons. And knowing they didn’t do anything to deserve it. Couldn’t have done anything to deserve it, because no crime, no matter how vile, warrants that kind of punishment.”

Dean says nothing.

After a moment, Crowley pulls himself from the dark, sucking well of memory to add, “Anyway, to answer your question; I don’t want to be a hot chick because a. I’m a man and b. hot chicks are skinny, and I will cheerfully burn this world to the ground before I endure living in a hungry body ever again.”

He glances down at his unclothed meat suit and smiles proudly, running a hand up one of its thick thighs. “Also – y’know – I personally think this long-deceased lad of mine is sexy as Hell.”

Gazing at his shoulder, Dean says roughly, “Didn’t know you had tattoos.”

“Oh. Those. Yeah. Can’t stand them. Worst decision the stupid bastard ever made.”

“I think they’re kinda cool.”

“Do you? Well, you do have incredibly bad taste so perhaps that’s not surprising. Now, are you going to get over here and put that erection to good use?”

Oh, bless him; he’s adorable when he squirms.

“Here?” Dean asks, eyes wide.

“Here.”

He says it like a challenge, for Dean can never resist one of those. Immediately, those wide eyes become narrow and determined.

The boy stands. Looms over Crowley, who casually flicks both their glasses to the floor and moves to sit on the cool wooden table. It’s clean, more or less, thanks to Dean (for once) agreeing to follow Crowley to a semi-respectable establishment.

“These hands,” Crowley murmurs, running them across Dean’s broad chest, “don’t have a single callous or scar. See? Soft as butter. Not a single day’s honest work, either of them.”

Dean swallows. Leans in to kiss him, hesitant and gentle.

Contrary to popular belief, Crowley likes gentle. Or, more accurately, Crowley likes being pampered.

He goes on: “And these legs…”

A groan escapes Dean’s lips as one presses up against his crotch.

“…these legs haven’t walked more than ten miles, collectively, since I moved in. No muscles. No blisters on the undersides of their feet. Not so much as a splinter.”

“Jesus,” Dean mumbles, drawing him in and latching onto his neck.

“And this stomach is never empty. Never even close. Never once forced to digest anything that isn’t purely, perfectly delicious. I treat my meat suits better than most people treat their family heirlooms.”

“Crowley. Fuck.”

He squeezes Dean’s arse and growls, “Because this is my reward, Dean. I won this. This softness, this safety. This nurtured, nourished flesh. I endured the seventeenth century and all humanity’s horrors. Endured my mother. Endured Hell. Built myself a reputation and a kingdom. All for this. And isn’t it wonderful? Say that it is, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean moans, even though he can’t understand a word; Crowley slipped into Gaelic a while ago.

(The things Crowley wants to tell Dean and the things Crowley wants Dean to know are categories that rarely overlap.)

Crowley takes Dean’s leaking cock in hand.

“Say I’m beautiful.”

Dean’s knees buckle as he whimpers, so Crowley wraps an arm around his narrow, underfed waist.

“Say you love me.”

Dean comes in his palm, gasping and cursing.

“Say you love me more than anyone else.”

“I’m guessing that was all Scottish dirty talk?” says Dean when he has his breath back. “You were – what? Calling me your bitch?”

Crowley smirks, licks the sweat off Dean’s jaw, and gives his backside a pat before reaching for his clothes. “None of your business. Go get me another drink, would you? Ta.”

 the end

NOTES: The title is taken from a quote found in Karen Cullen’s ‘Famine in Scotland: the ‘Ill Years’ of the 1690s’ (you can find extracts via googlebooks). Yes, canonically Crowley WOULD have been about thirty when this happened. Just in case his origin story wasn’t horrific enough wheee :D

#drowley #dean winchester #crowley #supernatural #spn crowley #my fic

[fyreb1rd]

The Clairvoyant and The Illusionist. 

Part One: Training is fun when you don’t panic.

__

Tommy needs some extra help with his training (and an ego check), which Philza is happy to provide. But things definitely do not go as planned.

tw: sparring and injury

characters: Philza, Tommy, Tubbo, Niki and Wilbur.

__

"Let's go over the basics again, boys," Philza says, opening a book in one hand and his long wooden staff in the other. Tubbo gets up quickly, readjusting as Tommy groans before sitting up fully, "Tubbo, go easy on your one leg, Tommy, focus in on your skills, not your emotions."

"Okay!" Tubbo shouted, despite being the shortest in the group, the boy was full of energy and drive. Philza smiled and began to read from his book as Tubbo swung his staff at his teacher.

"All humanoid people within this world can focus their soul energy into magic. Magic is not something most are born with the ability to control easily, the users themselves have to work long hours to hone and improve magical abilities. This part of the magic journey has been dubbed the Magical Indoctrination." Philza blocked three hits from Tubbo and kicked Tommy off to the side, both boys tumbled before restarting. Tubbo having to use his staff to stand back up, "The only exceptions to that rule are Homunculi, Elementals, Fae, Angels or Demons. They are born with different levels of magic depending on their bloodline and other variables."

Philza kicked Tommy to the side again and scowled at him, tossing his own book in the air as Tubbo charged. He grabbed the youngest boys arm and twisted him onto the ground, before lifting him and throwing him towards Tommy. The blonde panicked, attempting to catch his friend, but he stumbled and fell back under the sudden addition of Tubbo's weight. Philza wiped his hands off and turned to them, holding out one hand which perfectly caught the book he had thrown earlier, "What species are exceptions of Magic Indoctrination?"

Tommy hums in confusion and Tubbo rubs his head as he mutters, "Homunculi, Fae, Angels, Demons and..."

"Elementals!" Tommy finishes Tubbo's sentence and Philza nods, his eyes gazing at the two on the ground from underneath the brim of his hat.

"Correct, but would you have known that on your own, boys?" Philza chucks the book as hard as he can at Wilbur, who catches it with one hand before he makes his way over to the group.

"No..." Tommy sighed, getting up before he helped his best friend to a standing position as Wilbur handed him a crutch.

"I was gonna figure it out!" Tubbo complained, "but Tommy stole it!"

The two begin to argue and Philza sighed, looking over at Wilbur who hands him the book back. Wilbur then smiles slyly at the two kids before kicking his leg out to hit Tubbo's knee, which causes the boy to collapse into the dirt below him. Philza immediately whacks the back of Wilbur's head and leans down to help Tubbo up.

"Wilbur! God, the poor kid already has problems walking with his one leg, leave him be." Philza complains, wrapping an arm under Tubbo's to keep him stable, "Cmon, that's enough fight training for today, Tubbo. You should go read and study with Niki."

"But I suck at reading!" Tubbo complained, "the letters get all jumbled and then nothing makes sense!"

"I know, son, I know. But you have to at least try, if it gets challenging ask Niki to read it aloud, okay? Wilbur, take him Miss Nihachu, okay? And help him study, don't bully him anymore." With a playfully angry look at Wilbur, he passes Tubbo onto the other, who simply picks him up and nestles him on his back.

"Will do, Daddio." Wilbur laughs gently and walks into the small cabin with Tubbo, who's already starting babbling about something.

"Tommy. Walk and talk, okay?" Philza simply begins to walk off, letting the leaves crunch under his feet. Tommy jogs to catch up, Philza nods back at him once he sees him in the corner of his eye. Clarifying something secretly.

"You have to start taking your studies more seriously, Tommy. Tubbo is excelling in work that should be a breeze for you, but you simply do not care enough to put in the effort to learn and to grow." The older man turns to the boy beside him and smiles, it doesn't quite reach his eyes as a normal smile would, but it gets pretty close, "there's something... unique about you and Tubbo. Something I can't quite place just yet. However, I know the two of you are destined for something great. Son, don't rest until you get that greatness."

"Something great about me? Cut me some slack." Tommy rolled his eyes, "and the only reason Tubbo is excelling is that he's a total geek about this stuff!"

"Do not speak ill of him," Philza warns.

"I'm telling you the truth, sir!" Tommy groans, smacking his fists against his thighs, "he just, gets this stuff. I don't understand it at all! Plus, why do I even need to study all this magic and fighting technique bullshit? I should just be able to go in and bash shit if I'm supposed 'so great' or whatever."

"Tommy. You aren't as great as you think. If you actually listened to today's lesson you'd understand why you need to study and practice--"

"--Magic Indoctrination, I fuckin' know." Tommy looks down, kicking the leaves. Philza sighs and takes a few steps to the size before vines slowly start to stretch out to Tommy, who notices and yelps while trying to kick them away.

"Hey! What the fuck!" He screeches, kicking one harshly, but it doesn't stop them. He glances over at Philza, whose eyes are glowing a pure white.

"When I trained, we did not get a warning." He said calmly, his hands pressed together, "You have to knock me down, once, without severely injuring me. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yeah!" Tommy says and slams a fist into one of the vines, grabbing it, he focuses and slowly but surely a staff begins to rise from what one was a vine. It keeps the look of the vine but has the sturdiness of a normal blade. He immediately begins to hastily slice at the vines and Philza scowls.

"Technique!" He shouts and charges at his pupil, who panics and raises an arm to block the attack. Philza stops mid-way and Tommy stares through his fingers as Philza doubles over and groans. He then stumbles to the side, catching his weight on a tree before his knees buckle and he grabs the sides of his head as he crashes to the floor.

"Teacher!" Tommy shouts, kneeling next to him. This is a clear demeanor change, something has to be wrong. He reaches out his hands and gently nudges his teacher, trying to figure out if he was injured.

"Tommy! Stop!" Philza yells and Tommy immediately retracts his hands. He whips his head around, looking wildly for anyone to help. But Technoblade is at work and the other three are in the cabin Tommy can no longer see.

"Philza, please, what's wrong--"

"Get out of my head!" Philza wails this time and lifts his head sharply, white tears pooling down his face. Tommy screams, scrambling back against the leaves. Philza cries again, this time in pure agony, and Tommy wastes no time scrambling to his feet and running as fast as he can.

"Wilbur! Niki! Wilbur!" He screams as he approaches the cabin, "Niki! Wilbur! Niki! Please, someone help!"

Niki bursts open the cabin door before Tommy can even approach it, "Tommy, what's wrong? What's happened?"

"P-Philza! I don't know! I think I hurt him? Or I am? I don't know!" He begins to ramble with tears in his eyes, tugging Niki along.

"Wilbur, keep training Tubbo. I'll be back. I'm sure it's not that bad." Niki nods and turns, running alongside Tommy.

"Teacher? Sir? Philza?" Tommy says as they get closer, "are you okay..?"

"Tommy, you need to-" he's cut off by a loud groan, his whole body lurches, "stop using psionic abilities."

"I don't have psionic abilities!" Tommy cries, a heavy blink letting the tears run down his face, "I don't have any magic!"

"There is a magic pull coming from you Tommy..." Niki says, kneeling in front of Philza and cupping his face. She rubs her thumbs along the sides of his head and hums a melody. Philza closes his eyes and leans into her touch and after a few minutes, he blinks his eyes open. They no longer shine with white tears and the white glow seen when he charges and uses his magic. Niki turns and grabs Tommy's hands, rubbing her thumbs along his palms and humming a similar but different tune. He starts to notice a draining feeling like he's about to fall asleep. Then he crumbles to his knees and rests his head against Niki's lap.

"There... all settled." She murmurs, combing her fingers through Tommy's hair.

"Niki, you used—"

"—I know. It's fine. The mark wears off in a week." She says, looking down the path where Wilbur is walking alongside an clearly worried Tubbo.

"Is everything alright now?" Wilbur asks, looking down at Tommy who whimpers softly against Niki's skirt. Tubbo moves over to him and sits down, rubbing Tommy’s shoulder.

"Yes. Tommy overexerted himself. He also didn't know about having some sort of psionic ability." Niki runs her fingers through his hair again and Tommy closes his eyes.

"Wilbur, can you help Philza back? I'll bring Tommy." She asks. Wilbur nods and kneels beside Philza, helping him to his feet.

"Here we go, Dad. Come on." Wilbur murmurs as he wraps his arm around him to help guide him back.

"Oh Tommy, what are we going to do with you..." Niki whispers.

#dream smp fanfiction #sleepy bois inc plus some #Niki Nihachu #Nihachu #Wilbur Soot #Tommyinnit #Tubbo #Philza #The Clairvoyant and The Illusionist #TCATI #for short lol #fanfiction #magic #tw sparring #tw injury

[gutwhump]

Non-con body mod for BTHB because I’m feeling feeding the boy to the evil angst demons

Rowan BTHB — Non-Con Body Modification

@badthingshappenbingo

[[ CW: needles, implied noncon surgery, implied drugging, light medical whump, transphobia, forced detransitioning. stay safe

This got real long. I couldn’t introduce owner number one, I just hate him 😔 so enjoy more WRU and Tybalt. ]]

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

The first time someone changed her, she was afraid.

Instead of her usual training routine, her primary handler had woken her up and walked her straight back to the medical wing. It was never a good sign to be brought there when you weren’t sick. She shook and whined when they reached an office door she’d never been through before, hoping to earn some mercy by wearing her fear on her sleeve. Every trainee eventually learned that anything new would only hurt you.

“Hah, no getting out of this one, sweetheart. You’ll live. Your buyer just sent in a few customization requests,” he said, swinging the door open and shoving her inside. It was a brightly lit office, with multiple chairs, a desk, and tables housing all kinds of strange equipment. The man sitting inside didn’t strike her as particularly scary, but she knew what customization meant. She’d seen the other pets, sometimes, with all kinds of humiliating tattoos and surgeries.

“592...604? Alright, bring her here,” the new man sighed, as he rolled his chair over to one of the tables. “You know I hate doing this, right? It’s the hardest fucking one to manage when they start squirming.”

She wanted to press herself into the wall at his exasperated tone, but she knew she’d just be dragged back into position if she did.

“N-No, sir, I… I won’t s-squirm, I swear, I’ll b-be good,” she stuttered. Make him happy, and whatever’s going to happen will be better. If he’s pleased, he’ll go easier.

“Bah. They all say that,” the man said, though he wasn’t really speaking to her. “You lot need to stop offering this to the clients, or one of these days, a product is gonna wind up with some real damage.”

“Okay, so give her a sedative. Not that hard.”

The other man rolled his eyes. “They don’t give me any of that shite. Bring the next one in sedated already. This one, just bring her here.”

‘604 was hauled closer, then ordered down onto her knees. She looked up pleadingly into the man’s impassive eyes. He picked up a metal instrument and tapped her lips with it.

“Open up, and keep it open.”

She obeyed, already trembling. Her mouth didn’t close, even when he clamped the instrument around her tongue and pulled it farther out, making her whimper in fear. He tilted it a few different ways and shined a strange, blue light on it before he was satisfied.

“Alright, good girl for that. Now for god’s sake, stop crying and close your eyes.”

She tried to choke back the noises and squeezed her eyes shut tight, praying that it’d be over quick. She didn’t want anything to happen to her tongue. But even more than that, she didn’t want to think about what “real damage” would mean.

She heard him pick something up off the table. But the only thing on the nearest table had been, had been… she started sobbing in fear. She tried to pull away but didn’t get far, thanks to the clamp around her tongue— she didn’t want to be bad, she didn’t want to, she just couldn’t bear the thought of a needle going through it. There’d been a time when she hadn’t been so afraid of needles, she thought, but she’d learned to hate and fear them in her new life.

“Fuckin’ Christ, it always has to be a circus. Can you hold her?”

Her handler’s strong arms wrapped around her, then pulled her head back and held it in place while she cried. She was going to pay dearly for this later, she already knew.

“Hnn, a-ah’m th-owry,” she tried to apologize.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just hold still.”

She didn’t have a choice, she shut her eyes again and silently begged for mercy as the man held her tongue out straight. And suddenly, with a pinch… it was over.

‘604 was silent for a moment, holding her breath in confusion. That was it? It didn’t… it didn’t really even hurt. She went limp and opened her eyes as a small rod was passed through the new hole in her tongue. It was a little sore, but she barely felt the bottom of the piercing being screwed on.

She’d ruined her own day… incurred an unknowable punishment… over something so small. It was incredibly stupid. How could she have been so bad?

Her handler chuckled at the sudden silence. “I told you you’d live. Stupid bitch.”

“Prisses, every one of ‘em,” the other man commented, standing up from his chair and moving to sterilize his equipment. “Go on, then, I have another appointment in five.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the handler joked.

He then dragged her to her feet by the collar and marched her back out the door. She allowed herself to be jerked around through silent tears. How would they teach her a lesson this time? When would she learn?

—————————

The second time someone changed her, she didn’t even know it was happening. She just woke up after, groggy and aching and restrained on a soft bed.

‘604 tilted her head to the side slowly. She’d never seen a room like this before. It was wide and open and bright, and there were other Box Babes in her situation, in various states of consciousness. It looked like it was for recovery, but nothing had happened for her to recover from. She’d been good the day before. She’d been so, so good, and she was barely hurt at all.

When she shifted, though, it was clear that something was wrong. Her chest was awfully sore. Why? Had she fallen ill, and had to have surgery? This was what she imagined someone would feel like after surgery.

‘604’s wrists chafed at the restraints as she tried to work the blanket down on her body, to see the damage. But when it finally fell off… she wished she hadn’t.

Her chest was bandaged up on either side, and it was swollen. No, not all of it was swelling, it was just bigger. Where she’d had moderate B-cups before, there were two outsized globes that she could barely see her stomach past. She stared down at them dully.

It seemed obscene, somehow. She didn’t know why. She was a girl, they’d taught her over and over, and besides that, she was property. She was a Box Babe, and babes were meant to be pretty, they were meant to be whatever their buyers wanted, and they were so very lucky to be wanted. This request was what her buyer wanted. It would make him happy.

So why could she only feel dread? Tears leaked down her face, and her ribcage felt too tight around her heart, as if it could strangle the soft, beating thing. This would make him happy. She was a girl. She was a good girl.

He was a grown-ass man.

Suddenly, the thought that usually comforted her made her heave in wrongness. Little, confused cries left her between the nauseous convulsions. What was wrong with her? It was permanent, it was a fucking tit job, he couldn’t get them off, he wanted to claw them off. Why did she feel so sick? This had to be illegal. Why couldn’t she be happy? She’d never learn to be grateful.

She eventually forced the sickness down and cried alone in the bed, drawing the blank, pitying stares of other Box Babes. She hated having these kinds of thoughts.

Maybe, if she cried loud enough, a doctor would come with a syringe to calm her down soon.

—————————

The third time someone changed her, she simply let it happen.

“Look at you, little thing, always worried about your hair,” Tybalt said, running his fingers through it from behind. She was prettying herself up in his bathroom, the way they’d taught her, to keep her hair soft and shiny and attractive. “You must take a lot of pride in it, huh?”

She didn’t know which answer he wanted, so she took the safe route by nodding in agreement.

“Yes, sir.”

“I thought you might.”

He opened a nearby drawer and brought something out— a pair of shears that he used on his own hair. Then, he took the lock of hair that she’d just run product through.

“Hold still for me, princess.”

“Yes, sir.”

She obeyed as he sliced it clean off.

Her first reaction was horror, that she wouldn’t be pretty for her owner anymore— but, she reminded herself quickly, her owner was doing this to her. He wanted her to look like this.

So she sat, staring expressionless into the mirror as her long, fiery hair was lopped off. Tybalt made sure to chop it right next to the head, resulting in an unkempt, not-quite-buzz-cutty mess. It took less time than she expected.

She reached up to run one hand over it as a strange feeling stirred in her chest. She… she was supposed to hate it, right? That was what he wanted. She tried her best to look like she hated it.

“There you go. Less to worry about, if you ask me. Just ask for another trim if it starts getting long again, yeah?” he asked, gently brushing the hair off of her shoulders.

She nodded silently, running both hands over it this time. The movement was almost reverent. Despite everything she’d learned, she thought it looked better than the long hair. Even ugly and uneven like this.

“Hm. I thought for sure that’d make you cry. I guess I still don’t know you all that well, pet,” he said in a lighthearted tone, patting her on the head. Ah… maybe she should have cried. For him.

“Clean this mess up for me, will you?” he called on his way out.

She knew she was meant to start cleaning right away, but she just kept staring at herself in the mirror, head turning this way and that. For the first time ever, she thought to herself that she looked… nice.

The third time someone changed her, it was nice.

#whump #whumpblr #box boy #bbu #box boy universe #surgery cw #needles cw #medical whump #transphobia cw #pet whump #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #forced detransitioning cw #bthb #badthingshappenbingo #original characters #oc #rowan #rowan series

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

in too deep (part 5) - jules

jules x reader

TW: drugging

warnings: beating, homophobia, threat of death, i think that’s pretty much it??

notes: ooooohhh we’re getting closer to the end! not that i’m excited for this to end, but i’m just excited for you guys to see it

i really hope that me putting homophobia in this story doesn’t make you guys think i’m homophobic bc that’s the farthest thing from true. since i changed the gender of the mickey stand-in, i felt like it might be more interesting to add another dynamic into the story so it wasn’t just a word for word copy of the original except with a girl, bc that seems really one-dimensional to me. i feel like i need to put one of those things they have in movie credits like “the views in this film in no way reflect the views of the studio that produced it” kinda thing

also i think this may be my favorite part that i’ve written, bc if you didn’t notice, i’ve never left the reader’s perspective during the whole thing, so i had to improv a bit during the parts of the movie we didn’t get to see with mickey, and maybe i’m just a lil proud of myself :’)

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for the first time since you came up with your brilliant plan to siphon the gas, you actually felt a glimmer of hope. jules was smart, she’d surely find a way out of the house; and she was damn loyal, too, so you knew there was no chance she’d leave you behind. 

sadly all those hopes were dashed when you heard the basement door creak open again. 

fuck, this whole plan was dependent on the fact that no one else came downstairs! your hands clammed up, your heart rate quickening as footsteps descended the stairs, stopping dead in their tracks once they reached the bottom. 

  “where the hell’d that little bitch go?” george roared, scanning every nook and cranny in the basement to see if jules was hiding anywhere. “answer me!”

you stayed silent, more out of fear than some sort of strategy. you quickly realized this was the wrong decision as george viciously backhanded you across the face. your head whipped to the side, eyes blinking back into focus from the impact. you felt something sticky on your lips and realized it was blood. 

  “you’re so angry,” you groaned. “why? just ‘cause you’re shooting blanks?” you pouted in mock sympathy. this sudden boost of confidence seemed to be a mistake as you saw george’s expression shift into a dangerously content one. 

  “i’m gonna rip your fuckin’ heart out.” your face dropped as he spoke. “i understand you not wantin’ to tell me where she is. in fact, if i were in your position i suppose i’d do the same. but god almighty i’m gonna watch ya’ die. i’m gonna hurt ya’.”

you were stunned into silence but you decided saying something, anything, would be better than nothing. “she’s gone, man. you just need to give it up.”

this seemed to strike a nerve in him. he turned towards you again and delivered another swift slap, knocking the wind out of you. he smacked you again, the back of your head knocking into the pole and causing your consciousness to fade for a moment. 

  “you think i’m full of hot air, don’t you? only good on roughin’ you up?” he asked rhetorically. “you know i worked as a door-to-door salesman for a few years? learned a lot, but the most important thing i learned was how to read people. and at the end of the day, you’re just an open book, sweetheart.”

the name sounded like poison dripping from his lips. it made you sick, that name belonged to jules. 

  “i know your type, believe you me, i’ve seen quite a few in my time. you see, you like to think you’re tough, strong, resilient, but at the end of the day, you just value her life above yours.” he laughed to himself. “am i right?”

he chuckled again when you didn’t answer. “that’s alright, you don’t have to answer, i know i’m right. well, you people are more loyal than i thought. guess i gotta give credit where credit’s due.”

  “fuck you.” you spat. “don’t fucking talk about her like that.” he stood up again, this time grabbing something from a shelf before making his way back to you. 

  “alright, no more pussyfootin’ around, time to get down to business.” he revealed the knife, positioning it under your ear as he prepared to slice it off. 

  “sheisn’tgoingtothecops!” you breathed out quickly, hoping he’d let you keep both ears with the statement. 

  “what? what’d you say?” he seemed caught of guard by the sudden admission, backing off of you. 

  “not yet, anyway.” you took a moment to catch your breath. “i told her to wait. yeah, we got a little meet up spot. now if i don’t show up there in an hour or so, then yeah, cops galore. you’re fucked, buddy. but, if i do show up, we just continue on our way like none of this happened.”

you took another shaky breath before you continued. “if we’re being honest here, i don’t want the cops involved any more than you do. y’know, the whole ‘not gainfully employed’ thing? the cops aren’t a huge fan of that one.”

george seemed to take this into consideration, nodding quietly to himself. “what about sweetiepie?”

  “her? i don’t give a fuck about her, she’s the whole reason i’m in this mess.” you winked at her, hoping she’d understand the message. 

george snapped the blade shut, producing the key from to the cuffs from his jacket pocket. 

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

  “any last words for this son of a bitch?” george asked gloria as he trained the pistol on you.

  “oh, i do wish you’d handled things differently. we could’ve had somethin’ beautiful here.” she smiled sadly, mourning what could’ve been. 

  “i’ll see you in hell,” george mumbled as he opened the door for you. you stepped into the doorway, only to stop dead in your tracks when you heard your girlfriend’s voice. shit.

  “stop, don’t kill her!” jules shouted from the top of the steps, baby doll in hand. “i will smash it!” she held it over the railing, dangling precariously above the hardwood flooring beneath. 

  “whew, that was close.” george laughed, closing the door behind you. “unhand my baby!” gloria whined. 

  “alright, missy, calm down. no one’s gonna get hurt.” he kept the gun aimed at your head, but gloria quickly pried it out of his hands and took a shot at jules. she crouched to shield herself from the bullet that thankfully missed, but in doing so let go of the baby that plummeted to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces. 

  “get your ass down here or i’ll blow her brains out!” george shouted gruffly as jules descended the staircase. she ran to you, hugging you close and helping you to stand on your injured leg. 

gloria rushed out of the room, bloody pieces of ceramic in hand as george turned back to you. “look what you gone and did. what did i do to deserve you two?”

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

  “cooking’s a zen art for my dear gloria. i’ve found there’s a method to it: the more upset she is, the bigger the dish it takes to pull her out.” george explained. “needless to say, i think the two of you just summoned up a banquet.”

the two of you had been crudely duct-taped to some chairs in the dining room, forced to listen to the stuffy dialogue between the husband and wife. “why? why do you keep her down there?” jules asked. 

  “it’s not what you think.” he looked over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t listening. “my gloria, she’s always wanted a child. unfortunately, the good lord did not have that in his plans for us. so, i had to take matters into my own hands.”

  “oh, so you kidnapped her.” jules stated bluntly. george glared at her, but continued his explanation. 

  “as you get older, things get... complicated, and i swear to god i had no ill intentions. i just wanted to make my wife happy.” he smiled. “and she was for a bit, until she started to remind her of what she couldn’t have. she asked me to make her go away, but i couldn’t bring myself do that, so the basement is our compromise.” 

  “dinner is served!” gloria announced, wheeling in a cart full of dishes of shepherd’s pie. she placed one on everyone’s plate before she sat down. they quickly said grace before digging into their food. 

  “so are you guys gonna kill us or...? what’s the deal?” jules asked matter-of-factly. you wanted to nudge her shoulder and ask her what in the hell made her so bold, but you didn’t want to cause a scene. 

  “george, you didn’t tell them?” gloria asked confusedly. “i wanted to make ‘em squirm a bit,” he smirked. 

  “t-tell us what?” you cursed yourself for stuttering but you couldn’t help it, it came out when you were anxious. 

  “we’re not gonna kill you.” george mumbled, almost sounding disappointed. “i said we’re not gonna kill ‘ya, what are you deaf?” you stifled a grin at jules, not wanting to change their decision to set you free. “we’ve decided that, despite your piss-poor behavior, the logistics of it just don’t make no sense for us.”

  “sooner or later someone’s gonna come lookin’ for you two. now, i can hide a body like the easter bunny hides an egg, but the two of you have been sweatin’, spittin’, and pissin’ all over this place.” he paused to take a sip of his drink. “anywho, i’m bound to miss a spot. i figure we have a better chance of hitting the road. we’ll give it 48 hours, tip off the police, they’ll come by and pick ya’ up. i reckon you’ll do some time for whatever the hell you two did, but at least you’ll still be drawing breath. so congratulations, you should be thankful. you just won the damn lottery.”

jules spared a glance at you as if to say, what now? “take your time eatin’ you got another couple days in those chairs.” george muttered as he took another bite of his meal. 

screw it, you thought. we’re hungry and going to jail in the next two days, what harm could a nice meal do? you both picked up your forks and knives and tucked in to the plate in front of you. you nearly let out a moan in satisfaction as the food hit your tongue. you scooped up more greedily as you had no clue if and when the next time you’d get fed would be. 

  “wait,” jules swallowed the food in her mouth. “what’s gonna happen to her?” gloria glanced over to george, waiting for the answer to the question as well.

  “well, i’m sure they’ll put her some place nice. these orphanages, i hear they’re like five-star resorts.” george answered. 

  “does that upset you?” gloria turned to jules, a smile of mock empathy on her face. “anything’s better than down there.” jules mumbled. 

  “you got a heart of gold, jules. is your full name julia?” jules nodded in response. “my mother’s name was julia. she had a good heart, too, you remind me of her.”

  “she died of cancer when i was real little. it was a slow, painful process, but i was with her every step of the way!” she grinned as her husband blew her a kiss. “the day before she died, she told me to look in the closet, that i’d find a special surprise for me in there. it was a package, wrapped up nice and pretty, with a tiny card with my name on it. she insisted i opened it, so i wiped away my tears, tore open the paper and there it was. a doll.” 

everything stilled. every sound, the scraping of cutlery on the plate, the sound of everyone breathing, even the breeze blowing through the window decided this was a nice time to take a break. 

  “she said it was a magic doll,” she continued. “that no matter how sad i became, and believe me, i became very sad, i’d always have him with me. my ethan.”

your gut instincts finally kicked in as you spat out the food that was in your mouth, the gross pile of chewed up beef and potatoes looking oddly blurry to you. jules looked equally as mortified, probably even more since she was the one who brought about the end of the magic doll. 

  “and she was right; he was magical. and you took him away from me.” she grinned her creepy stepford wife grin once more. jules mumbled something but everything sounded miles away from you as your head swam. 

  “wha-what is this?” you slurred, the bright colors of the table morphing into one another. 

  “this is a drug overdose, y/n.” he chuckled when you sluggishly turned your head towards him. “i know, i know, i fibbed about lettin’ you live, but see, you had a veritable pharmacy in that bag of yours. you two just munched down enough pills to put a bull to bed,” his voice muffled into indiscernible nonsense, though you knew he was still speaking. 

  “f-fuck you,” jules managed, still keeping her head up. you, on the other hand, were slumped over, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. 

george got up from his seat, pulling your head up by your hair. “not so tough now, are ya’?” he jested. 

jules muttered something in your defense, but as soon as your head dropped, you were down for the count; just missing the hopeful ring of the doorbell, possibly signaling you might live to see another day. 

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i should probably put a link to previous parts at the top but i have no clue how to do that lol

tags: @emmyrosee​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @willyourecognisemee​ @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass​

#jules #jules x reader #jules oneshot #jules imagine #jules fanfiction #jules fanfic #jules fic #jules villains #villains #villains 2019 #maika monroe #maika monroe character #my writing

[belladonnaandulriched]

amped and wired, part two | chapter seventeen: my monsters

“Hang on, Joey!”

I felt so sick, even with my head in Mrs. Hamilton's lap. The window having fallen out of the thing allowed me to put my feet up on the edge of the door. We were driving all the way down to Manhattan with no window and my feet hanging out like I was a kid airing out my feet after a hockey game. I pinched my eyes shut as I tried to think of something else.

All I could think about was that horrible pain between my legs.

The clones were heavy with blood and machinery of some kind that I didn't understand, so think if I got kicked in the crotch with a heavy metal bar—

I groaned in my throat because I didn't know what hurt more, my crotch or my feet from hanging out in the open. I was in utter agony. Complete and utter agony, and every breath into my lungs made my chest swell up with it. Mrs. Hamilton stroked my forehead to try and soothe me, at least I hoped she was the one doing the stroking given Lars was right next to her. I needed to get alone with him again to finish that one thought.

That one thought I showed to him when we were in Syracuse.

Syracuse! What the hell was going on there. I needed to know that because it could reach to me at any given moment.

No sooner had that thought crossed my mind when I felt Mrs. Hamilton's hand on the crotch of my jeans. She was fondling me right there in front of the guys, but it was to help me out. I was sure of it.

“Are we going to the place we were before?” she asked Lars.

“Of course! At least that is where I believe Angeline is taking us—” I didn't hear the rest of it because her fingers fondling me there. Even through the fabric, her fingers were soothing to the touch. She was giving me what for, and it helped that my head lay right in her lap. Her touches were like little light feathery kisses.

I rolled my head to the side so I could breathe, and yet I also couldn't given the stuff growing on the sidewalks and all the buildings outside.

I felt the car turn a corner but I wasn't sure as to which way.

And then we came to a complete stop.

I didn't open my eyes but I did feel Lars move above the crown of my head.

“Joey,” Mrs. Hamilton said to me as the back doors closed behind us. I finally opened my eyes to see her face looking down at me, cloaked in the protective mask.

“Yes?” I asked her. She tugged down the mask so her lips curled up into a smile for me. “You wanna get outta here, don't ya?”

“Of course. I think you might have a little bit of a mess forming on the soles of your sneakers, too.”

“Oh. Oh, shit—”

“It's alright, sweet boy. It's gonna happen.”

I nibbled on my bottom lip as I inched off of her lap and into the driver's seat. I swung my legs to the side to make sure the meaty mossy stuff from the City didn't get on her—there was all manner of things on the sidewalks already, so it was the last thing I wanted to get onto her. Mrs. Hamilton managed to duck out from underneath my feet and into the outside.

Indeed, I caught a weird whiff of something out there and I knew it had to do with the stuff on my feet. I tugged up the kerchief around my neck up to my nose and my mouth and lay my feet down on the seat, and I sat upright. I slithered out from the seat and into the City, or what had become of it anyway. I looked up to the skyscrapers, which looked to be covered in some kind of meaty vine like shit.

“Joey!”

I lowered my gaze to the sidewalk before me. Lars strode up to me with that mask firmly pressed to the front of his face.

“What are you waiting for, man? Come along!”

“Just lookin' at what happened here,” I explained to him as I looked about the deserted street. I had no idea what street we were even on, much less where Angeline had wanted to take us.

“By the way,” he started as he moved in closer to me; he cleared his throat to which he lowered the tone of his voice, “why mention the ghosts that live with you?”

“I saw Mrs. Snow at the end of the block when we left Black Orchid,” I said in a single breath.

“Who?”

“Mrs. Snow. One of the ghosts that lives with me.”

“How'd you know it was her?”

“I felt her.”

“What do you mean 'you felt her'?”

“I felt her in my bones. I knew it was her, too—she's a nurse and she dresses in all white. I call her Mrs. Snow because she shows up before a snow and I feel her in my bones.”

“What does she have to do with anything?” he demanded.

“When I was in that room—the room where Maya's sleeping in—I noticed her skin looked like patchwork, like there was—new skin added to her.”

He knitted his eyebrows at that.

“Are you suggesting—she took the flesh out of the container and tacked it onto Maya?”

“I'm not suggesting it, I'm sure of it, Lars.”

“She's a ghost, Joey,” he said, curt.

“Yeah, I'm aware of that.”

“What makes you think she'd use that leftover flesh—that sliced wife meat—to do such a thing?”

“Because she's a nurse!” I raised my tone a little bit, and so the both of us froze in place. He turned his head to ensure that we were alone, and we were, and then he returned to me.

“Because she's a nurse,” I repeated in a near whisper. “And by the way, will ya stop callin' it that? That makes my stomach churn up a storm just thinkin' 'bout it.”

“Why? It is what it is, Joey.”

“But it's so fuckin' gross, though—especially after you fed it to Charlie.”

“What?” Charlie called from down the block.

“Nothing!” Lars called back to him. He returned to me with his eyes gleaming. “Makes me wonder why she'd do that.”

“Who knows. Usually when I see her, she's wanting to cut off my hands at the wrist when I'm even so much as changin' my clothes. Anyways, here comes Angeline.”

She scurried up behind Lars with a flustered look on her face.

“Come on, come on!” she insisted with a gesture of her hand, and Lars and I followed her along the sidewalk, past a little alleyway, and to the corner to meet up with Frankie, Charlie, Danny, and Mrs. Hamilton there.

“So where are you taking us?” Mrs. Hamilton asked her.

“There's a hospital right here,” Angeline explained with a gesture to right across the street, “and I have a lead to it as well as the warehouse.”

“That actually kind of looks like the warehouse now that I have a good look at it,” Lars pointed out.

“It's connected to the warehouse,” she said. “Whatever they can't do there, they send them here.”

The bunch of us hurried across the street towards the front door, where we met with two columns of something on either side of it. We came closer and I realized it was piles of flesh. That container of sliced chunky pastrami seemed pale in comparison at the sight of that right then.

And then Frankie saw it.

“Fucking—fuck!”

The doors were sealed shut with that same meaty shit and the fact we were surrounded by it made me want to jump on the whole thing with a knife. A knife!

I was about to double back to the sidewalk and head for a side door of some sort, and then Charlie body slammed the glass of the doors. It shattered into a million pieces all around him as he landed on his side there on the floor. He then sat up and climbed to his feet as if nothing happened.

“Thanks, Charlie,” Angeline remarked with a slight chuckle.

“Sometimes you've gotta throw yourself into things,” he pointed out as she shook his pant legs about. “Alright, now where to?”

“Over here,” she said as she climbed through the Charlie shaped hole first. Mrs. Hamilton followed suit, then Frankie and Danny, and then Lars, and lastly myself. The whole front wing of the hospital was spotless and bright lit as if no one had even been here before. Not a single soul to be found.

But Angeline guided us to a short hallway to the right, and she pushed open a single door for us. We filed into a big dark room that made me think of a movie theater with its solid dark walls surrounding us. To my right stood one of those one way mirrors you'd see in cop shows; to the left was a catwalk complete with a grated walkway, but the railing was protected so once we reached that, Angeline coaxed us to duck down behind it. She reached a single spot on the catwalk and crouched there in anticipation for the rest of us. She then raised her head a bit so as to peek over the edge. I followed suit: I knew it was going to be hard for me given the crown of curls on top of my head, but I managed to keep my eyes level with the actual railing itself.

Down below was a vast stretch of linoleum that looked to be illuminated with that same blue neon. On the far side of the room was another one of those one way mirrors as it looked out to the City outside. At least I had hope it was one of those one way mirrors. I figured it out rather quickly: if they were making clones in the warehouse, they were taking apart the specimens there in the hospital. Humans came to that room in particular to die.

I recognized him in the left side of the room, strapped down a table with a bunch of needles jabbed into his arms and legs. His stringy hair fanned out from all around his head.

“There's Scott,” I whispered with a gesture over there.

“You sure that's Scott?” Mrs. Hamilton whispered back to me.

“Pretty sure that's Scott, Mrs. Hamilton. You can practically smell his eyebrows from a mile away.”

“Look at all of those machines,” Lars remarked, “hooked up to his body as if he's incredibly ill.”

“And that tube down his throat,” Danny added. “At least I hope that's a tube.”

“Look at that doctor right there,” Frankie pointed to the left side of the room. Indeed, there was a man in a black coat with a hood over his head overseeing Scott as if he was Death herself. His spidery fingers caressed over Scott's forehead.

“What a good boy you are,” I heard him whisper to Scott, even though I wondered if Scott could even so much as hear him. “You and John will be perfect for the next round of clones. Albeit musical ones.”

I didn't realize I had raised myself up over the railing to where my head was practically over the top of it. The man down below looked to the mirror on the other side of the room and then he turned his head. And then I wondered why a place like this would leave the door unlocked.

“It's a trap!” Lars squeaked.

“Shit!” I blurted out in a near whisper.

I scurried out first but I had no idea where I was going. All I cared about was getting the hell out of there.

I doubled back to the window there on the wall. I ducked down below the window. Over the roar of my own heartbeat in my ears, I heard silence. Silence in the wake of getting caught.

Maybe he didn't see me after all, and I freaked out over nothing. Lars crawled up next to me with a frightened look in his eye.

“They're going to kill us,” he said to me.

“Apparently,” I muttered as I tried to calm down my heartbeat. “If they plan on killin' Scott and John, then surely they're after us, too.” Charlie, Danny, and Frankie joined us.

“What do you think we should do?” Danny asked Lars and me.

SMASH.

The window next to us shattered into a million pieces and three clones spilled out. Their eyes were bright like embers and their narrow sharp hands were held out such that they looked ready to tear the bunch of us into a million pieces.

“Well, get the hell out of here for one thing,” Charlie quipped, and we all ran blind back towards the door. It was the five of us. I bowed through the Charlie shaped hole in the front doors first, then Charlie himself, and I had no idea who else. I ran blind through the meaty jungle that became of the City. It was hard to run given the shit on my shoes: the soles were so slippery from what was there that it almost felt like I was skating along the sidewalk. Angeline said the warehouse was linked up to the hospital, but where the warehouse from there was beyond me. I skidded to a stop in the middle of the block to catch my breath.

“We have to go back!” Lars screeched in a broken voice.

“What? Why?” I demanded.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Danny added.

“By the way, Lars—” I added as I struggled to catch my breath. “When we're in a place like that again, and things feel off, don't say 'it's a trap!' unless we're all hiding together. Just about gave me a heart attack back there, Jesus Christ.”

“We're not going back there, either,” Frankie said as he lingered back to the alleyway. “I don't care what you say, either.”

“But Angeline and Mrs. Hamilton are back there!” Lars insisted.

“The hospital and the warehouse are linked up, though,” I recalled. “So I've got one thing to say and one thing to say only 'bout that: screw that!”

“Yeah, let's go to the warehouse,” Charlie concluded. We turned back to the car, where we were met with another clone of Maya climbing in through the hole left behind by the window.

“Oh, for cryin' out loud,” I muttered.

“Got another body slam in you, Char?” Frankie asked him.

“Nah, but I know Joey fights dirty, though.”

“What, 'cause I'm a hockey player you think I fight dirty?”

“You're tough, Joe,” Danny pointed out. Right as he said that, the clone turned around to see me with those bright glowing eyes. If only I had my ice skates with me.

But I did have meat on the soles of my shoes, though. She curled her upper lip at me like I was fresh meat. She lunged for my crotch again but I lunged back. She took a swing at the spot between my legs again but I caught her leg right before she could make an impact. I found one of these fuckers on the sidewalk, dead and bloated and heavy, and she split apart in the hospital. Heavy or not, they were fragile. I could make her split apart here with my bare hands if I wanted.

She twisted and writhed to try and break free. But I was stronger than her because I was a real boy. I gripped onto her ankle with my other hand and turned to the side like I was holding a hockey stick.

I was holding a hockey stick.

I buckled my knees and yanked her back towards whatever was behind me. The four of them leapt out of the way for me. I shot out one foot to steady myself on the sidewalk.

I swung her around and pirouetted about one foot like I was shooting the puck from out of bounds to the rest of the rink. I slammed her head on the sidewalk and it came right off at the neck. Blood flooded out from the base of her head and I hurled the rest of the body down the sidewalk. It splattered apart on the sidewalk up ahead and a whole sheet of blood followed in its wake. It was so much blood that it made me chuckle.

The next time I played hockey I would have fill the puck with red dye to show the guys just how hilarious it was to see.

But then I turned back around to find the head still alive on the ground behind me. We congregated around it as her teeth barred at us and her eyes glowed with rage. I looked up to see Frankie had found a pole of sorts.

“There was a dumpster over here with a pile of metal pipes next to it,” he explained. I looked down at the head as she glared at me. I was the guy that found her. And now it seemed like the clones were out to get me specifically, probably because of it. I swallowed again and then I looked back up at Frankie.

“Frankie—take it out,” I told him with a nod of my head.

“Gladly!”

He picked up the head by the hair and tossed it into the air. He took a swing with the pipe and he missed. The head splattered onto the ground but it didn't break apart despite the blood running out from its eye sockets.

“Fuck.”

He picked up the head again and tried for another swing. He got it that time, complete with a loud THWACK! and the head flew over to the hospital. It landed on the other side of the  front doors to make another hole.

“Shit!” he said.

“Yeah, let's get over to the warehouse,” Lars remarked as we all scrambled back to the car.

#amped and wired #amped and wired fanfic #amped and wired part two #fanfic #fanfiction #anthrax fanfic #metallica fanfic #anthrax #metallica #chapter 17 #joey belladonna #joey belladonna fanfic #lars ulrich #lars ulrich fanfic #scott ian #frank bello #charlie benante #sci fi #sci fi writing #fan writing #writing #also on ao3 #text

[vityacristo]

Grilled Cheese

Para: Grilled Cheese

Who: Vitya Cristo & Monty Prescott @montyprescottjoy

When: June 27th, 2020

Where: Vitya’s apartment

What: Vitya, mid-manic episode, goes grocery shopping for food beyond candy. Monty is waiting, unannounced, in his dorm room. They tip-toe through conversation, yet again, unable to break down each other’s walls. That does not mean boundaries aren’t broken, though...

Triggers: Suicide, Drug use, Abuse, Sexually Explicit

VITYA

Vitya was cursing to himself as he walked to his dorm room. Something processed him that morning, something gripped his gut and it would not go away; Go buy groceries. Vitya never bothered, just eating junk food. he figured, if he wasn't going to live long, why bother taking care of himself? He had no idea how to cook, anyway, so this could be a complete failure. the only guide he had was the 'diet recommendations' his doctor had, buying everything he could find on that list. His wallet was looking thin now. He opened his dorm door, noticing a familiar pair of shoes by it; Monty had let himself in. Vitya didn't mind. It felt... nice coming back to his dorm, knowing someone was there waiting for him. Even if it was Monty, of all people. Now that he thought about it, the voice in his head, telling him to do this, was less his own just telling him to get groceries, but more Monty's voice. 'Eat some real food, asshole' was more appropriate. Knowing the other man was likely in his bedroom, he passed by the kitchen and opened his bedroom door. Unceremoniously, he dropped one of the bags on the bed, the contents of apples, lettuce, and a loaf of bread spilling out.

"Get up. You're teaching me how to cook."

MONTY

Monty had been waiting for Vitya, he was rather surprised when he'd gotten no answer at the door and part of him was worried by that. as far as Monty knew Vitya didn't spend the night with clients so it was concerning to not get an answer this early in the day. It was barely lunchtime. Monty often showed up here without any warning these days and this was the first time there had been non answer. Monty pulled a small tool from his wallet and jimmied the lock, keeping his eyes peeled for anyone who might see him breaking in but luckily the dorms were quiet because it wasn't quite official move in day yet so only returning students were even on campus.

Monty looked around the dorm as he entered quietly, toeing off his shoes so he wouldn't make much noise just incase Vitya was still asleep. Monty found the apartment empty which made his stomach fall in disappointment. He huffed but decided to wait, after all it wasn't like he had anything better to do than hang around with the younger man for the day. Not that he would admit he wanted to spend the day here, just that he had nothing else going on with no classes to keep him out of trouble at the moment when he wasn't working on his research project.

Monty took a peek in the refrigerator and couldn't even find a beer. He grumbled under his breath about Vitya having finished off the last case he'd left here and flopped down on the bed. He let his mind wander as he laid there and was half asleep, face buried in Vitya's pillow when he was shocked from his sleep by the sound of Vitya's footsteps and a bag of groceries hitting his leg.

"The fuck asshole?" He groused, voice thick with sleep and hair sticking up in every direction. "Where the fuck ya been man? What with the bag attack?" He huffed, brow raised suspiciously at the food that had rolled out of the bag.

VITYA

Vitya couldn't help but laugh to the state of Monty. His disheveled hair, the sleepy tone of voice, the huffing and puffing. "I went shopping. I actually paid for something, for once." He stepped to the edge of the bed, leaning over and petting his hair back, kissing his forehead. "Come on, you're going to show me how to make something." Vitya said, standing back up and grabbing the tossed bag and walking outside the bedroom.

"I was able to grab you a bottle, too. I had to smuggle it out, since you Americans have moronic age gates for that, but I still got it," Vitya said, placing the bags on the table and starting to unpack. An array of healthy foods, fruits, grains, meat, as well as a few bags of candy, more due to Vitya's love of sweets and impulse to buy them. "I have no idea what I am doing with all of this, so I hope you at least know something. I'd rather learn from someone in person than a Youtube video," Vitya admitted, reaching into his left boot and pulling out the bottle of bourbon he stole. He set it to the side, for Monty to go at whenever he wanted.

MONTY

Monty hummed softly in appreciation of the gentle forehead kiss that helped bring him back to the land of the living and batted Vitya’s hand away playfully. “So you’re telling me ya didn’t just raid a vending machine damn kid what is this a special occasion?” Monty laughed teasingly. He’d never see this much food in Vitya’s apartment and he couldn’t help but wonder if the younger man was finally taking his own illness seriously by actually trying to live a healthy lifestyle.

“I see! The truth is finally out. The prince of poison himself doesn’t know how to cook. that’s why he lives on a diet of candy!” Monty actually laughed out loud, messing with Vitya and using his childhood nickname against him. “I ain’t exactly master chef ya know. I don’t just eat take out around you, but Nikko did teach me some shit an’ I do have my own famous grilled cheese I can show ya real east an it looks like ya got all the stuff for it. I see ya couldn’t resist ya sweet shit though.” Monty teased as he spied the candy while collecting the ingredients for a good grilled cheese and starting to throw the rest slightly haphazardly into the refrigerator out of habit, not thinking (or more like not allowing himself to think) how helpful he was being by doing it without being asked or forced. “Good call on the bourbon.” Monty moaned eying the label. “Ya got any ice goin in the freezer or do I gotta wait to have a glass of this?”

VITYA

Vitya laughed to himself, shrugging at Monty's question. "Not sure... You're here fairly often, and we always eat, figured I can have something here," Vitya noted, still pulling out various items. He looked at a rather girthy cucumber with a twinkle in his eye. "Thought of you," he joked, setting it on the counter.

Vitya could not control his impulsive laughter, this one making his eyes crinkle, his cheeks turn pink. "Shut up, I was a pampered prick. I never lived somewhere without a personal cook until moving America- Imagine my horror!" he said with both sarcasm as well as self-reflective truth. Feeding himself was hard at first, and that challenge made his diet of candy an easy choice. Nevermind what it did to his emotional state, eating junk all the time. It wasn't the cause of it but it certainly didn't help.

"Well, I am not expecting high cuisine here. You have just... lived more than I have, and if anyone is going to teach me how to be better at this 'feeding yourself' thing, it would be you." There were little butterflies in his stomach as that sentence came out. It was tart to say, sour but sweet. Monty had such a riviting life, of mob hits and gun fights and a brother he would die to protect. To Vitya, it was a far more exciting life than his. His eyes wandered to where Monty was helping him put the groceries away, tossing them inside. Hey, as long as they were edible, he didn't care where they ended up. First step was actually eating them, not organizing them like colors of socks. "Of course I do, Red Bull with vodka demands ice. It's in the freezer," the pointed to the top compartment.

Vitya collected the plastic bags, shoving them under the sink to be used as trashbags later. He grabbed his precious bags of candy and placed them on his desk, having to move some jars of dirty water and ink to give them a spot. He walked back to the kitchen, playfully resting his chin on Monty's shoulder. "So, are you going to make me watch you make the grilled cheese, or are you going to recreate the pottery scene in Ghost?"

MONTY

"Tryin' ta tell me ya sick of take out? Fuckin' sure they can cook more than me, but unless ya highness has a money tree we do need to cut down," Monty cocked his head, and stuck out his tongue in a way that wasn't exactly common with him but he was still a little pliant from sleep in a way that was also unusual so it seemed his guard was down for a change... though it didn't last long as he made his next quip he instantly felt his own insides shatter... "or ya need ta be takin' ya ass ta work more." Monty instantly bit his own lip. There was a time he didn't care about Vitya's job, he understood doing whatever a person needed to do to make money but now the thought of Vitya going out and doing that made him feel sick in a way he didn't understand. Monty turned away feeling himself blush, he never blushed.

Monty only looked back when he saw the cucumber waiving in his peripheral vision and he was finally able to laugh again, to took the produce from Vitya and lewdly imitated the motions of a handjob on the length of it before throwing it into the refrigerator with the rest.

"Fuckin' fine. Grilled cheese it is. It's one-a the first things Nikko showed me, figure if he let me do it you can too, and I throw slices or tomatoes in there so it counts for vegetables or whatever." Monty shrugged off Vitya's comment about having 'lived more'. He didn't find his life something to be proud of something people should be interested in, to him it represented the very worst of his memories and as much as he used his mob connections as a shield; something to terrify others with, it was the thing he was most ashamed of. Monty looked away from Vitya, keeping his eyes downcast as he moved around the kitchen area collecting a glass, ice, and the bottle of bourbon. He took a deep swig before pouring a half glass and topping it with ice. Monty leaned back into Vitya's body when he hooked his chin on a shoulder, he couldn't resist pressing a kiss to the younger mans jaw. "If by that ya mean forgettin' the food and going to the fuckin' I ain't complainin' but if ya wanna eat today ya better gimme a frying pan and the bread and butter." He chuckled.

VITYA

"What, and you aren't? There are only so many fucking times I can eat chinese food, or afford to." Vitya joked again, giving Monty the middle finger at him sticking his tongue out. The playful warmth between them froze like Hell in a blizzard, for a split second, when Monty let slip his addendum. Vitya's jaw locked a moment; it had been a long time. His last 'paycheck' was three days before his hospital visit, nearly two months ago. Vitya never said anything, but he was strapped for cash. "Let me worry about that," he said, in a somber tone. The reality was, Vitya knew nothing else. He had no other practical skills beyond sex, but he was having so much fun with Monty, feeling better than he ever felt, both inside and out- He didn't want to fuck someone else. Vitya had to be rational; he needed cash. And he wasn't going to take it from Monty anymore. So, whoring himself out it is.

The tone met in the middle, lukewarm, as Vitya watched Monty pour his drink, feeling the other man's warmth against him made it so tempting for Vitya to let his hands wander, maybe jerk Monty off from behind, but he resisted, for now. He chuckled, returning the kiss on his jaw with a lick up the shell of Monty's ear, biting the lobe and then letting it go. "Alright, hold on," Vitya said, letting Monty go, searching through the cupboards for a frying pan. he eventually found one, handing it to the other man along with the items he asked for.

"Normally I would take you up on the 'skip food, just fuck' thing, but the last time I ate anything was when you were here last, so I figure I better not skip this time," Vitya admitted. It affirmed one thing; his grocery shopping today had nothing to do with Monty coming to visit. Vitya had no idea he would be there today. He didn't buy it for when Monty was there; he bought it for when he wasn't. For when Vitya was on his own, not caught under Monty's eye, who Vitya knew watched him eat...

"Tell you what; once we're done here, I'll blow you. As long as you want."

MONTY

"Fuck, fine, okay, sendin' Nikko ta LA hurt my wallet an' I'm even more on the outs with pops after refusin' ta do a job for him but I should be gettin' some cash at the end of summer for this project I'm workin' on if I get all the fuckin' math figured out. That or we go Breaking Bad in here an' I start cookin' my own shit." Monty laughed dryly. Humour fizzling out as he mentally took stock of his current savings. Yes his graduate program got him room and board thanks to the scholarship prize but it barely stretched beyond the apartment rental. Textbooks and equipment in his field were not cheep.

"Ya know, ya could think about sellin' some of this." Monty gestured to the art littering the room. He actually did appreciate Vitya's art more than he would ever feel comfortable voicing and the thought of Vitya selling that rather than his body was oddly comforting in a way he couldn't understand never mind explain.

A shiver ran up Monty's spine thanks to the heat of Vitya's breath and the kiss in return. A blush raised in his cheeks and he cleared his throat distractedly, trying to refocus himself on the task at hand.

"Fuck Vitya, it's been two full days." Monty sighed heavily, wanting to punch the other boy for his idiocy but not wanting to expose his concern, already berating himself for the words he'd let slip so he kept the anger in check as best he could as he attempted to butter the bread gently so it wouldn't tear it up.

"Al'ight sounds like a fair exchange," Monty grinned, feeling more relaxed as their easy banter set back in. "Want ya ta swallow it too, look so fuckin' hot when ya swallow it down for me, pretty boy..." Monty couldn't help the words slip out as Vitya's lips caught his eye, reminding him of the image that was Vitya's lips red and puffy...

VITYA

Vitya snapped his fingers at Monty, in a small 'told you' sort of way. Monty was stretching himself, too; all the more reason Vitya needed to get back out there and work. Monty at least had a plan, one that involved his career, uplifting himself. It was admirable. His train of thought was interrupted at Monty's suggestion, eyes rolling over the mounds of art he had made. He grimaced. "Really? It's all depressive ramblings and... I don't know, devil worship? That's a niche market if I ever heard of one." He said. In all honesty, Vitya had no faith in his own work. He only chose it as a major so then he could get into this college; it was either that or be homeless, so Vitya chose college.

Vitya could hear the concern in Monty's voice. Instead of give in, he just smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, well... I'm working on it." he spoke softly, returning Monty's concern with a hopeful optimism. A rare form, in Vitya's case, the emotional vulnerability making his heart pound. "It takes a lot, sometimes, just to get out of bed, so the fact I made it to the store and back? I call that a win," Vitya threw his hands into the air, hoping this conversation would end here. He didn't want to talk about his mental health, or his behavior, right now. He wanted to make food with Monty, and ignore the past two days entirely.

"Mmmn," Vitya teased back, licking his lips when they caught Monty's eye. "Oh, I will, if you..." Vitya leaned to Monty's ear again, sliding his hands down's Monty's arms. "...Slide your cock so far down my throat, it makes my body freeze, and my head go all fuzzy-" He cut himself off, stealing Monty's glass of bourbon a moment and backing away, taking a sip before putting the glass back where it was. "Don't get too distracted, " he teased, motioning to the task at hand. "You need to earn it!"

MONTY

"Hey stop thinkin' so hard over there, ya know I can mock up some financial documents for ya, that's how I cleaned up freshman year, been doin' ma dad's taxes an' shit for years, the man's an ass but we know how ta play the system." Monty laughed, he'd never told anyone but Nikko about this and even then it was only recently, after he started college. Yet he didn't question the way he was opening up to Vitya, it just seemed natural and somehow he knew Vit wouldn't snitch.

"Nah man, crazy old collectors go mad for this shit. An' if tryin' ta sell legitimately doesn't work gettin' ya shit inta an established gallery is a scam I could work easy." Monty winked, letting his mind wander down the road of imagination. Even if scamming was part of his horrid upbringing it was something he often genuinely enjoyed. The thrill got his heart racing. Though that could just be from Vitya's proximity... Monty cleared his throat "Got a knife for cheese or did ya get craft slices?" he asked, concentrating more than necessary on the pan heading up and melting the glob of butter he'd thrown in.

"Did someone fuckin' sneak happy pills in ya mornin' red bull? Ain't seen ya this fuckin' optimistic since the idea of havin' my cock up ya ass" Monty teased, but it was soft, almost kind, pleased to see the younger man in a light he wasn't used to. Having someone to connect with, who understood his pain was one of the best things about Vitya, after fucking of course, but seeing him hopeful did something to Monty he hadn't experienced before except with Nikko... it made him proud. But even deeper than with Nikko it also made warmth stir in his belly.

"Fuck..."Monty groaned shamelessly at Vitya's response, that familiar tingling racing through his body, making his dick twitch in response, his head fell back onto Vitya's shoulder and he pressed his ass back against the taller man's dick instinctively. His body instantly felt cold when Vitya moved away and he had to press his hands hard onto the counter to regain his composure.

VITYA

Vitya shook his head. "Temping, I don't want charity... As nice as your offer is," Vitya added on the end, not wanting to sound ungrateful at Monty's offer. It was kind of him, and Vitya had no idea what to do with that. Vitya had nothing to offer Monty beyond sex, and yet he wasn't asking for anything by offering this to him. At home it was 'Smile for the camera and you get a treat', a concept that Vitya still used to this day with his prostitution.

Vitya laughed for a moment, a air of disbelief on his face. "You would scam my way into a gallery? I went to so many useless galas and balls at art galleries growing up, the people at those were posh and snarky and... gross. You think you can trick that crowd into thinking my depraved, sexual, borderline rancid work is high class?" Vitya reached into a nearby drawer, handing him one of the knives inside. The drawer was disorganized, taking a moment to find it.

"This is just... normal," Vitya said, cryptically, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm low, sometimes really low, for a few weeks and then, boom. Really, really high for a few days. It comes in waves. My professors back home would say I was 'manic'," Vitya explained. He had never gone to a therapist, psychologist, nothing. With his physical health being so poor, he hid all he could about his mental health. But with Monty, away from home, feeling more free than ever... He was able to talk about it. For the first time in his life, someone knew he had a problem.

A tingle of power went down Vitya's spine as he watched Monty fumble before him. It made him feel so strong, like he could take on the world, when he had Monty like this. In the palm of his hand... "Don't let the thought of me circling my tongue on your tip distract you too much. Go on, I want to learn how to make your sandwich..." he teased, grabbing a jelly bean from one of his many, many candy bowls and slowly sliding it onto his tongue.

MONTY

“Ain’t like I’d be the one giving ya money, just a few fake documents ta have the school giving ya what ya need.” Monty shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal to try and scam a huge business like a university. His perception of what constituted ‘a big deal’ was extremely warped thanks to his upbringing. Kindness, selflessness, compassion were things that terrified him as much as if not more than putting a gun to someone’s head and pulling the trigger but fraud was nothing.

Monty shrugged, continuing to work on the food as if it really wasn’t a big ask. “Sounds easy enough, those bougie pricks are easy ta manipulate, they’re like fuckin toddlers always wanting new entertainment and bein possessive little fuckers.” He laughed. “We’d persuade some hot dude who can pull off that mysterious shit ta play the part of you an’ charm his way into those inner circles with a bit of blackmail and the promise of a small cut.” Monty mused, letting his mind run wild planning a con. It had been a while since he’d done anything more than running drugs and the potential had his mind buzzing.

Monty listened closely to Vitya explaining some of what went on in his head. It was similar to how he felt when he was taking drugs regularly, but those feelings were chemically induced highs and lows not his own brain chemistry and he had heard enough from Nikko to know what Vitya was describing wasn’t healthy or normal but he had no idea what to do or say and it terrified him.

He did the only thing he could think of. He put down the knife and turned into Vityas arms and placed a hand on the taller boys neck, his thumb resting on his sharp jawline and kissing him hard. Not sexually and filled with desire but firm and filled with promise even though he had no idea what he was promising.

“Fuck you!” Monty tried to sound threatening at Vitya’s teasing but it came out breathless almost like a whine and he couldn’t even gather his thoughts enough to care how pathetic it sounded.

VITYA

"And I'm telling you, I don't need it," Vitya said again, this time more firmly. "You already have given me enough money, I don't need you goading the university to give it to me, too." He said, hoping this would be the end of it. Knowing Monty, he would bring it up again, butt hat was for another time.

Vitya snapped his head to Monty, a curious, and fake-offended look on his face. "What, you don't think I could pull it off? I've played The Game before, Monty. I've wowed a crowd or two. Mainly at my father's request, but if I can convince money-hungry dogs that I was, indeed, the perfect son with full intent to take over his business, I can con some art hacks into thinking I'm some bougie personality," Vitya glanced at his art again, pursing his lips.

Vitya was shocked at first, at Monty's sudden burst of affection, but didn't refuse it. He kissed back, with a similar fervor, taking Monty's waist with one hand and his hair with the other. He gripped tightly, wanting nothing more than to strip him down, there and then. It was so hard to resist.

"You really want it bad, don't you?" he whispered, the hand on Monty's waist sliding to the obvious bulge in his pants. "Really, really bad," he continued, sliding his hand up and down. Fuck, this is what Vitya needed! That dominating power, that hold on Monty like a vice. He could get drunk from this... "Be a good boy and finish cooking. Then, whatever you want. You'll be a good boy, right?"

MONTY

"Thought I was payin' for a service." Monty raised a brow trying to read Vitya but he didn't press any further no matter how much he wanted to. To be good at illicit activities you needed at least some level of perception and he'd quickly learned when not to push Vitya if he didn't want it to turn into a fight though he was still more in the dark about this guy than he would like.

Monty laughed. "I've got no doubt the littlest prince could pull it off but do ya want all them jerk-offs knowin' ya face? Aren't ya supposed ta be hidin' from Daddy? Figured ya'd be tryin' not ta draw attention to yaself but whatever we'll throw ya ta the dogs if that's what ya want." He rolled his eyes, feeling as though Vitya was only pushing this to prove a point and he didn't feel like fighting. Monty knew all about trying to be the perfect son but his families idea was far different than the Cristo family.

Monty held Vitya tight, the hand not at his neck was wrapped tight around his waist keeping them close. He let his eyes close and leaned their foreheads together in a comforting, intimate gesture once their lips broke apart. To some sex was intimate, but to him these soft gestures were more than he could bare. Usually.

"Always want you," Monty gasped out, losing himself to the feel of Vitya surrounding him. The taller man was taking over all of his senses and the thought of cooking completely left his mind as he tried to thrust his hips forward to find more friction for his fully hard cock. Vitya had power over him like nobody else and all he wanted to do was give himself over willingly and have someone take care of him in every way. Monty shivered with the words ''good boy" and he whined shamelessly. "Y-Yes." He forced out.

VITYA

Vitya looked at Monty with an unblinking stare, a mile long, navigating the words that came out of Monty's mouth. He broke eye contact a moment, licking his lips. "You aren't giving me more money." There. Final. Done.

Vitya shook his head. "Not really hiding anymore. He paid my hospital bills, sends me these medications he wants me on, but aren't FDA approved. He knows where I am. Why he hasn't come after me... I have no idea. I think he knows if I see him again, I will make damn sure he can't find me..." Vitya stopped, his hands balled into fists as he went on. he let the pressure go, breathing his fury out. "Besides, I don't want some rando claiming my work, even if we pay them."

Vitya continued palming Monty's erection, his wrist changing the angle every few strokes, letting Monty practically hump his hand. "Good. Then," Vitya turned Monty back around, but this time, pressed his chest to Monty's back, lightly grinding his own hard cock against his lower back. His hands were on Monty's hips again, but this time, one went up to play with his belt buckle. "You keep going, and the more you do, the more I do," he said. With the pace of a snail, Vitya started pulling at Monty's belt, slowly starting to take it off. He stopped, just before the last of the belt left the metal buckle. "See? Look what being such a good boy got you... So much closer to your reward."

MONTY

Monty rolled his eyes but dropped the subject, seeing it wasn't worth fighting anymore right now.

He took a moment to absorb Vitya's words on the subject of his father trying to process it. "So no Bratva followin' ya around?" Monty tried to tease, shying away from talking about fathers, it was an uncomfortable subject and he tried to block out the memories of the the last time his father had contacted him because his threats were still hanging over his head and he was both scared and glad his father hadn't yet followed up on the threats. "We'll make ya the perfect little Russian gentleman an'  have 'em fawnin' all over ya." Monty chuckled, redirecting his attention to the image of Vitya suited and booted for a fancy party. It was a good image.

All the thoughts of scamming and scheming were driven from his mind as Monty tried his best to move his concentration back to the task at hand. The pan was smoking from the time he had been distracted, usually he was more than capable of preparing the food while the pan warmed but not today. A strangled moan left Monty's throat at the feel of Vitya's hard cock sliding against his ass. He had to clench his fists the stop them shaking from desire before he could turn down the heat on the burner and put together the sandwiches. He layered the cheese and tomato between the bread waiting for the pan to get back to a proper cooking temperature. "More, please...." He whined, trying to buck his hips up to the hands that were so close yet so far. He loved and hated how quickly Vitya could reduce him to begging. Monty Prescott did not beg for anyone. Except for this man.

VITYA

"If they are following me, they are doing a good job keeping themselves hidden," Vitya said, noticing that this was a subject neither of them wanted. Good, this was uncomfortable. Both of them had difficult connects with their fathers, and neither wanted to talk about the details too much. Yet one more thing they could agree on. Vitya smirked and ran his fingers in his hair, rolling his eyes. "You just want me in a suit," he teased.

Vitya watched Monty try so hard to keep it together. He really was doing everything Vitya said, without question. He was trembling, and each little shake made Vitya feel so damn powerful. Vitya kissed and sucked at Monty's neck, watching his hands work. When he whined, Vitya smiled against his skin. He gracefully unbuckled the last of Monty's belt, letting it dangle by the loops. His hands were on Monty's jeans, two fingers sliding up and down the length of his zipper. "Almost there," he whispered, undoing the button and peeling the zipper apart. Vitya's finger's danced over the elastic of his underwear, tracing circles around his confined cock through the thin fabric. "You're doing so well, so close. Such a good boy.”

MONTY

"We could throw a few Cugine on ya see if they find anythin'." Monty mused, though thinking how badly that ended after putting a few young idiots on Sam and it ending with him being robbed and putting him and Nikko on the outs. But it was worth it to protect someone he cared about... wait no he couldn't go that deep... but another thought cut him off as he realised it was too late now...

Monty winked, "Wouldn't say no ta that, bet ya look hot as fuck." He licked his bottom lip teasingly, letting his eyes roam Vitya's lithe body.

Standing there Monty felt completely powerless. Usually it was a feeling he hate more than any other. For his whole life he'd craved complete control because he'd been stuck under his fathers thumb doing things he hated but giving up control to Vitya was freeing. He didn't have to make tough calls and painful decisions because here was someone doing it for him, keeping him safe and steady. He didn't hate this because in the end the things Vitya was making him do were things he wanted to do, he'd just never understood how to ask...

Monty felt completely consumed by Vitya who's body was all over him; fingers, lips, chest, dick. He sloppily threw the two sandwiches into the pan and prodded them with a spatula he'd spotted in the draw Vitya had opened to find a knife so they didn't stick. Monty's body was getting hotter and hotter, every inch of him was tingling with too much not enough as Vitya touched and teased him. "Please man fuckin' touch me" He groaned, letting go of the pan handle and reaching back to fist his hand into Vitya's hair. "Been good, please, more." He keened, wiggling his hips, trying to grind back on Vitya's cock to get him as desperate for more as Monty himself was.

VITYA

Vitya cocked an eyebrow. "No. If I'm in danger, I run. Simple as that. I don't need protecting," Vitya said, in the same tone he uses when he is annoyed. The type of annoyed when someone asks how he is feeling, or if he is taking his meds. It felt like he was being babied, and having wanna-be mobsters keeping an eye on him? No, he'll brave it on his own.

Vitya's heart was pounding. He had this man, who was so loud and strong and independent, around his finger, whimpering and begging for release. He wasn't pushing, either, to get it himself, he was letting Vitya choose when. Vitya sighed on Monty's neck when he grabbed his hair, biting his lip and letting Monty rut against his crotch. The friction of the fabric made it so hard to saw no... But if anything was going to happen, he needed the energy to do so. And that meant eating before getting busy.

Vitya's fingers slid under Monty's waistband, fingers now touching the bare skin of his cock. He was warm, hard, and Vitya could feel Monty quivering. "Shh, shhh," he shushed in Monty's ear, slowly starting to pull his waistband down. "You're almost done, look," Vitya motioned to the food in the pan, cooking away. Vitya's hand coiled around Monty's cock, finally freeing it of it's cloth cage, and with an agonizing slow pace, his hand slid up Monty's shaft. "So hard for me, and waiting so patiently... Can you wait till after I eat? Just a little bit longer, for my mouth on your aching cock?"

The way Monty was shivering had Vitya's head going wild. All the things he wanted to do to the other man became possible realities, and not just his sick, twisted fantasies. And Vitya, being a man of unsound mind, grew a devilish look on his face. "If you wait, like a sweet, good little boy, then I'll fuck you, too," he whispered, his free hand slowly sliding down the back of Monty's jeans.

He made sure to give every opportunity for Monty to stop him, in case this was too far. "Would you like that? Would my good boy wait for my cock in his ass? Will he?..."

MONTY

Monty groaned, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Fine man, whatever." He groused. Vitya was being rather stubborn tonight and as annoying as he found it, he was rather impressed with his determination and pride. Maybe Vitya would find it in himself to apply those trait to his will to live. Monty could only hope.

Monty felt as though he was quite literally losing his mind the way Vitya was teasing him. It was almost painful. He' never felt need this intense before. It was driving him wild. The praise was doing something he had never experienced before and it was maddening yet wonderful. Part of him wanted to snap and make Vitya stop talking to him like he was a kid but a far louder part of his mind was screaming for more and had fire coursing through his veins.

"Feels so good" Monty moaned when Vitya's finally touched his hard cock. It felt so much better than rubbing through his boxers even it was torturously slow. Monty bit his lip, trying his best not to let any more of those pathetic sounds out but it was a fruitless effort when Vitya began talking again. He should have hated it but he couldn't.

The dirty talk was something that should have reminded Monty of Schuyler, because it always had before now and would inevitably lead him to trying to shut the mouth of whoever he was fucking or make them leave all together, even if he did give himself blue-balls in the process. But right now there was no room in his mind for Schuy, he was completely consumed by Vitya.

Monty's body began to sing at the thought of Vitya fucking him. It had been so long since Mont had bottomed and it made him moan deep and loud, so loud that if it wasn't summer break they'd have neighbours banging on the walls to try to quieten them. "Yes, yes, fuck me, I'll do anything, please fuck me." He mewled, pushing his ass back against the hand moving over it. The word my had come from Vitya's mouth and served to make Monty evenmore desperate. The food was completely forgotten to him.

VITYA

“Yeah? Feels good?”Vitya asked, rhetorically. The shake of Monty’s body gave him all the clues he needed, every whimper a sign that Monty was enthralled with all of this. In fact, Vitya was, too. Most clients would pop in, pop out, end of story. Monty was unraveling at his touch, giving Vitya a burning passion in his gut.

Monty’s sudden moan, his cry of desperation, his begging to be fucked; Vitya nearly did it right there. His ass pushing back against him made Vitya growl in his ear, looking down at the hot stove, then back at Monty. “Fuck it,” Vitya said, turning the stove top off and making Monty put the cooking utensils. His hand was on Monty’s cock, stroking at a fast pace to keep his attention, the other hand coming around to hold Monty‘s chest.

“Listen to me. When I let you go, walk to the bedroom and strip. Get on the bed and wait for me. You can touch yourself, finger yourself, but if you come before I am inside you... Well, you’d be a bad boy. And you want to be a good boy, right?” Vitya spoke slowly. Normally he doesn’t get turned on by his own talk, but this was every fantasy he had been having about Monty since he left two days ago!

He stopped his stroking of Monty’s cock, spinning his finger around the head. He have Monty a few seconds before letting him go. Vitya turned his attention to the forgotten sandwich, deciding to leave it for now and grab an apple out of the fridge. The moment he was done with this was the moment he would follow Monty.

FADE TO BLACK

#para; monty

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP. 5

LAST TIME ON SINGY WINGY

ANGRY GREMLIN BEAT UP GOOD BY SUICIDE MOVE SURVIVE BLUE BIRD YES. BLUE BIRD GO TO HOSPITAL FOR WATER METAPHOR WITH AFTERLIFE GIRLFRIEND. TINY BIRD SAD, BUT THEN NOT GET SAD! JACKIE CHAN TIME AFTER MUCH THINKING. WIFE WORRIED ABOUT THINGS. SOMETHING SOMETHING PUNCH GOOD NOW.

Let us continue.

Miku wakes up to see her wife has run off yet again. This is the part of the Sam Reimi’s Spiderman franchise phase where the Mary Jane (not weed) begins having a rockier relationship with Peter Parker (not slang for penis) due to lack of availability.

It’s contrived.

It’s almost impressive that she left a note and had time to draw a tiny Hibiki saying something in a bubble. Glad to see you have your priorities straight, Hibiki.

“you know she might have had a better time in the local art school that doodle aint half bad”

Hibiki is motherfucking Rocky all up in this.

She’s going to kick some ass and nobody’s getting in the way.

“YOU’RE GONNA EAT LIGHTING AND YOU’RE GONNA CRRRRRAP THUNDER TACHIBANAAAAA”

“THAT’S A DIET I CAN GET BEHIND”

I wasn’t joking when I said she’s not fucking around anymore. Did you think I was joking? I can see how you can get the impression given the first few episodes, but I really can’t emphasize the thoroughness of the ass kicking she is going to be capable of.

“MY FATHERLY ENERGIES ARE WORKING! ADOPTERS ANONYMOUS WAS WRONG AFTER ALL!”

That’s totally not ominous in the slightest.

Meanwhile, in the middle of an unnamed McMansion in the middle of who knows where...

Gratuitously spoken English is heard. To be fair, it’s actually really impressive pronunciation coming from people whose native language are systemically different to ours. Most shows would just settle for “this dude is actually speaking english but everything is said in japanese for better interpretation” but not Symphogear! No siree!

Relic business is afoot.

We have a random blonde lady shooting random Noise from the thing The Gremlin had in her hands.

She’s really trying her best with her accent. She’s also casually shooting Noise because let’s face it, would we not do the same if it were in our hands?

“i do whatever i want with my big stiff rod pal”

Also, she’s a nudist. To also be fair, if you lived in a fuckoff rich McMansion with weapons beyond your comprehension, you likely couldn’t help but walk around naked doing whatever the fuck you want.

The people she’s talking to are the Americans, which we explained before are portrayed strictly in an antagonistic light. They want some relics, and this lady clearly deals them like like some sort of glorified drug dealer.

Suffice it to say, she’s not a very nice person.

Also, the subs don’t match what they’re saying in English in the slightest.

The name of this woman... is Fine (pronounced fi-neh). And she is the main antagonist of this series.

Fucking identical.

And here is the most unpleasant scene in the entire season.

The person we’ve repeatedly alluded to as The Gremlin is called Yukine Chris. She serves Fine in whatever the hell they’re up to right now. In this case, it’s using the Nehushtan armor to run around with Solomon’s Cane to throw Noise around the city.

“shits gonna get real abusive, pal”

Fine is a narcissistic sociopath. She’s manipulated Chris into servitude by believing she is the only one that can pave humanity into salvation.

“i dont like that smile”

Chris thinks Fine can secure her deepest wish. Ironically? It’s world peace.

“yeah! yeah yeah, world peace, yeah, totally. just treat me like jesus and we’re gucci”

Anyway, she proceeds to thoroughly shock Chris.

The lore behind this is that this is helping her resistance with dealing with the physical demands of the Nehushtan armor, as well as deal with the pieces of Nehushtan that may be still inside. Let’s be real, though. Fine’s a sadist, and just likes hurting people willy nilly.

“fuck... that hurt like shit... hey wait... wouldnt some of the electrical arcs hit you and shock you too, given you’re so naked and close to all this...?”

“ya nevermind that food looks real nice and i want a piece of that fuckin turkey”

It’s a real creepy scene, and it cements Fine’s horribleness really well. One of the most pivotal things to take note is that Fine says that people can only communicate with each other universally through pain. Strong, terrible BDSM overtones notwithstanding, this will be a common (though varying in quality) motif of the entire series.

“BITCH YOU THOUGHT WE WAS GUNNA EAT AFTER THAT FUCKIN’ WISECRACK ABOUT GETTING SHOCKED LIKE YOU’RE EVEN FUCKIN’ NIKOLAI TESLA ALL UP IN HERE WE’RE GONNA ELECTRIC SLIDE YOUR ASS TO NEXT WEEK”

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK”

“WHERE THE FUUUUUUUCK IS HIBIKI?!”

“i was gonna invite her to the circus with the rest of the class ‘cause i felt bad about how i treated her but i guess she’s not here”

“the only clown im interested in is hibiki, in the carnival tent of my own bedroom”

“isn’t being a part of /fit/ great, hibiki? can you just feel the gains?”

“yeah who needs doting wife based significant others when you have your gym bros, right newly acquired father figure?”

Hibiki, having acquired a new brain cell during her training, asks the million dollar question:

“Why the fuck are we relying on schoolgirls to deal with all this stuff?”

“anime just be that way, hibiki. i’m just the wrong protagonist in the wrong show.”

Japan is super big on keeping the Symphogear a secret because they are strong and the world really, really wants a slice of the Symphogear pie. These people are basically walking super-weapons. Tsubasa literally dropped a sword the size of a skyscraper. It’s like the premise of the series of Iron Man films.

“do i get like a superhero name too or”

Something to wrap your head around. This was released around 2012, and while the setting seems to be slightly more futuristic, the world it was made in at the time had not been through the era of social media/smartphones we have right now. It was on the cusp of doing so, which means the idea of decent (yet vertical) amateur footage of things happening wasn’t something in the mainstream yet. Why do I say this?

Because in Symphogear, the fact that Symphogear exist is the biggest open secret in this unidentified city ever. NDAs are passed like hotcakes to keep people’s mouths shut on seeing monster-fighting singing superheroes. And they sing, too! Symphogears as an entity are the most high-profile fighting agents out there. Bright colors, no masks, constant singing, fighting in broad daylight in populated areas. Everybody knows, but no one says a word.

Which means every politician on the face of Japan hates these idiots, but they’re stuck with them out of sheer necessity.

“i swear to god if you bring up sam reimi’s spiderman one more goddamned time”

“look it’s the truth, all anime comes back to sam reimi’s spiderman. fate zero did it. uhhh, fucking...baccano, probably? now us. face it. its pretty much the bible.”

It’s also pointed out that the very concept of a Symphogear is born from a science that didn’t exist, and it probably contributes to political frustration as well.

“im going to microwave all your sam reimi spiderman dvds. im gonna do it. you try me, motherfucker. i didnt go into acting and get into this position to hear lectures about a decades old film franchise nobody cares about anymore.”

“can we stop fighting about the validity of sam reimi’s spiderman for five seconds and get back to helping me thing of a dope as hell superhero name? now, lemme lay one on you: Mister Fister”

Hibiki asks where Code Ryoko is.

“any answer besides Not Here works”

“oh, she left to talk to the americans, why?”

“huh, shes sorta late, actually”

“WHY A BAD BITCH LIKE ME GOTTA GET STUCK IN TRAFFIC LIKE THIS”

In the mother of all Mom Vans, no less.

MEANWHILE... IN METAPHOR LIMBO...

Tsubasa has reached the sea floor of the water metaphor dimension surrounded by water, which is her feelings, which are very gay. Imagine the Mariana Trench but like, deeper. Way deeper. That’s where Tsubasa is.

Leave it to Kazanari “I am literally a sword” Tsubasa to successfully spin the very act of surviving a suicidal move during combat as a failure. That’s a special kind of self loathing right there.

“the sheer force of my love for big ladies is keeping me alive”

Tsubasa asks about the point of Kanade’s sacrifice. Why’d she do it? Why was she so hungry at the end?

She personally shows up to answer that question, because that’s Kanade for you.

“being badass is cool, but you know whats cooler? caring.”

“sharing the sauce... you... you shared the sauce...”

“thats right, tsubasa. i wanted to protect the sauce, but... ultimately... sharing it was better. it wasn’t my sauce, tsubasa. it was everyone’s...”

“im gonna suck on a ketchup packet in your memory, tsubasa”

Kanade’s spirit pulls her out of the dimension of water metaphors as she is slowly undrowning from her emotions.

Tsubasa, like Kanade, was lost in the sauce. But now, after Kanade’s touching peptalk, Tsubasa is lost no longer.

“will i ever see you again in my dreams, kanade...?”

“where there’s a sauce. i’ll be there.”

“ill eat taco bell every day just to see you again kanade”

“and i dont even like taco bell... im more of a chipotle girl...”

After accepting Taco Bell as her lord and savior, she is immediately pulled out of the metaphor zone.

And wakes the fuck up.

“b..... b..... b............”

“Baja Blast....”

#symphogear #symphogear season 1 #anime #comedy #recap

[thatwritingho]

Momento Mori

Chapter 4

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

“So, how are you boys feeling about Olive? Any, ah, thoughts? Concerns?”

The band had reconvened in the meeting room after the spur of the moment autopsy demonstration(there was, luckily, always a dead body on hand at Mordhaus, what with the employee death rate), Olive having been dismissed for the remainder of the day to finish settling in, set to start her duties the following day.

“I dunno, dood, I mean, she seems kinda fahked in the head a bit,” Pickles was the first to comment as he popped the cap to a fresh beer, recalling how she had enthusiastically prattled on about different diseases and birth defects that were possible in each organ as she had removed it, “but in like, y'know, a good way.”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, pretty sure people aren’t supposed to be, like, that happy when talking about flesh eating viruses,” Nathan took a swig from his own beer as the rest of the band nodded in agreement. “But uh… watching her slice that guy open? That was, uh, pretty fucking brutal. And really hot.”

Murdeface crossed his arms and reclined back in his seat, eyeing all his bandmates before staring down Charles.

“Schure, schesch a babe and all, but isch sche really good enough to be the doctor for Dethklok? I mean, we’re talkin our health here, guysch! What'sch more important than that?”

Pickles scoffed at Murderace’s attempt to be devil’s advocate, giving him a skeptical sideways glance.

“Dood, since when do yeh care aboot bean’ healthy?”

“Ya, Moidaface! Yous just wants to bes a dick!” Toki glanced to Charles, nodding his head. “I likes her, I thinks she should stays.”

“Thank you, Toki.” The bespectacled man cleared his throat, “I can, ah, assure you, Murderface, that she is more than qualified for this position. I did screen her myself, after all. Her capabilities are on par with anyone else I would have considered, but she is the only one who met all of your, ah, selected criteria.”

“Yeh mean shes da only one who wasn’t some crusty old dood like our other dahctors?”

��Yes, Pickles, precisely,” Charles’ attention turned to the blonde busily plucking away at his guitar, the only one who had yet to provide any feedback. “Ah, Skwisgaar, anything to say? About Olive?”

“Ja, I woulds do hers, evens if she ams creepys.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Charles could only sigh as the conversation quickly devolved into Skwisgaar and Nathan discussing the do-ability of his newest hire.

“That’s, ah, not what I meant. At all. But I would like to go ahead and ask that all of you refrain from any attempt at a physical or romantic relationship with her, since she is your, ah, employee. It would make for a difficult sexual harrassment case, were anything to go sour, and we can all agree that we don’t need another one of those? Yes?”

Charles knew the disgruntled, grumbled agreements from around the room were the only affirmation he would receive.

“Alright then. Since we are, ah, all in agreement, I shall have her follow through with the two week trial as planned, and then you can make your final decision. In the mean time, I would like for her to conduct a routine physical exam on each of you to learn all of your, ah, various health conditions.”

“What!? A fuckin check up!? Didn’t we juscht have one of thosche?”

“Well, Murderface, that was, ah, last year. An annual physical is crucial for prevention of the onset of illnesses. And as I said, she needs to familiarize herself with your, ah, your… bodies.”

The immature snickering around the table at his last sentence was expected, as was Muderface’s continued outbursts.

“Scho we’re gonna have to take our clothesch off and get poked and prodded by thisch chick? And you exschpect us to not even fuck her? Isch sche gonna schtick her finger up our asschesch too?!”

“Pfft, like she woulds evens thinks about fuckings you, Moidaface.”

“Yeah, I uh, feel bad for her, y’know, having to see him naked and all. It’ll, uh, probably blind her. Scar her for life or… something.”

The bassist stood abruptly at the taunting, chair screeching back as he threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Fuck thisch!”

“Murderface, please sit down” Charle’s took a moment to close his eyes and inhale deeply through his nose as Murdeface plopped back down in his seat with a scowl. “I hired her to be the band physician, remember? What else did you expect if not a typical examination? Regardless, I have, ah, other matters to attend to. Any other questions or comments? No? Excellent.”

Charles made for the door quickly, but turned back around and addressed the room before exiting fully, “And, ah, everyone, please be sober for your physicals tomorrow, ok?”

He knew it was a pointless request, as confirmed by their halfhearted agreements, but at least he could say he tried.

.

Ohmygod ohmygod ohmyGOD

The formidable wooden door to her temporary housing closed heavily behind Olive, and she leaned back against the hard wood to kept herself upright, heart pounding in her chest as she finally let herself be overcome by the pure, raw emotions she had kept at bay for the past few hours, a ridiculous squeal bubbling forth from her throat as she smiled a big, jaw-achingly large smile.

“Holy SHIT!”

With that exclamation, she hurriedly kicked off her heels and propelled herself onto the plush mattress, latching onto a pillow and burying her face in the fluff to muffle her thrilled screeching, feet kicking childishly in an attempt to relieve the tension caused by excitement-fueled adrenaline coursing through her body.

Once thoroughly satisfied with the amount of emotion released, she surfaced from the pillow for air, face red and hair wildly askew, and snatched her phone, sitting up to type a brief message to her twin sister, telling her of the good news and promising a more detailed phone call later that night, not trusting herself to be able to form coherent enough sentences to hold a conversation at the moment. Despite this, she was still bursting with the need to talk to someone out loud to organize her thoughts, and so turned to the only other being in the room, who was currently curled up and napping under his wooden tunnel.

“Sorry to wake you, Apophis, but I have to tell you about this!”

Said reptile lazy curled itself around her arm as she held the appendage in front of her, flat head resting on the back of her hand as he blinked slowly, paying as much attention as a snake could.

“I don’t even know where to start, they were so much better in person than I could have imagined! Fuck! They’re all so so cool, so beautiful, too! And Murrderface and Skwisgaar were totally checking me out, can you believe it? Oh my god, you were right about picking out this outfit, man. And they wanted me to do an autopsy for them! God, you should’ve been there, their faces when I made the Y incision were fucking priceless, like they didn’t think I’d actually be able to do it. Fuckers. Nathan seemed really into it, though, I think he said in an interview once that his favorite subject in school was, like, frog dissection or something fucked up like that.”

Sucking in a big breath after her long winded jabbering, a concerned look crossed her face as the long bodied creature shifted, raising its head to stare at her from eye level.

“Oh! Don’t worry, they don’t dissect snakes in school, just frogs. I’d never let anyone hurt you anyway, you know that.”

Seemingly abated, he settled back down, once more relaxing against her hand.

“Man, dude, there’s no way I can focus enough to unpack, damn. I’m supposed to give them my first physical exams tomorrow. I’m so nervous, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. What if I fuck up? What if they fire me before I even get a chance to know them? Oh my god why did I think I could do this?”

Her audience merely flicked his tongue at her in annoyance.

“Yeah, you’re right, man. Fuck it. Whatever happens, happens. I’ll be fine. It’s fine. I’m fine. Totally fine. The finest I’ve ever been. Yep”

The nervous laugh following her attempt at self assurance would have made Apophis roll his eyes, if such a thing were possible for a snake to do.

.

“Dude, are you drunk? Seriously?”

Olive, clad in your stereotypical white lab coat over a simple form fitting black dress, clipboard in hand, stared in disbelief at the massive front man sitting before her on the exam chair.

“Uh… I mean, I only had a, uh, a couple of beers. Not uh, not enough to get me drunk, or… anything.”

Dark eyes could only blink at him incredulously.

“Man, I can smell the alcohol on your breath from here, and it’s not just beer.”

Nathan at least had the decency to look a bit sheepish at that, averting his eyes to stare at one of the many anatomical diagrams on the wall.

“I, uh.. I didn’t think it would matter.”

The newly appointed physician could only sigh.

Damn he looks adorable.

“It’s ok. We can just, um, try this again tomorrow. But no drinking before, ok? I mean it. I can’t get proper readings while you’re intoxicated, yeah?”

A deep grunt was his only reply as he hopped to the floor, boots thudding loudly from the impact, silky hair flowing around his shoulders. As he strode past her for the door, Olive couldn’t help but shudder a bit at how much bigger he was than her, his broad frame casting a large shadow over her own small one, a shiver going down her spine at his deep voice when he mumbled a half assed “sorry” before slamming the door shut behind him.

.

There was only one word for the look Skwisgaar Skwigelf was leveling her with right now; dangerous.

“How’s does yous wants me, doctor?”

She had wondered for years, about how women could keep throwing themselves at this man, keep having his love children when they knew there was no hope for anything more than meaningless sex with someone probably riddled with STDs, destined to be a soon forgotten face among the hundreds of other who had fallen victim to his charms.

But that look. Like he wanted to devour her, make her fully and wholly his, devote his entire being to pleasuring her and only her. The way his voice dropped and sent chills down her spine when he spoke her title. It was a pull unlike any attraction she had experienced before.

Fucking hell. I get it now.

The blonde was standing just slightly closer than would be considered appropriate, towering over her, leaning forward slightly as he waited for instruction, a knowing smile curling onto his face as Olive cleared her throat and looked away.

Damn him.

“Just, um, on the exam chair, and take your shirt and pants off.”

He leaned back from from her and sauntered away, stretching his long arms above his head as he removed his shirt, making a show of it as he carelessly tossed the article of clothing on a nearby chair, glancing back at her over his shoulder as he unbuttoned his pants and let them drop as he hopped up.

Oh, you motherfucker. I’m not that easy.

Victory was claimed as hers when the obnoxiously attractive smirk fell from his face, replaced by an annoyed pout at her next words as she tapped her pen on the clipboard.

“So. Let’s talk about your rather extenisive history of STDs.”

.

“No fuckin way. You can kissch my assch if you think I’m gonna strip for you so you can jab at me like that schtiff from yeschterday.”

Olive sighed in exasperation, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Man, come on, seriously, you have to take your shirt off for me to do this right.”

Murderface crossed his arms protectively over his chest, turning his nose up and looking away childishly with a small ‘hmph.’

“Look, I’m not going to slice you open. You gotta at least take me on a date first before I’ll go that far with you.”

The brunette turned to her fully and raised his lip in an attempt at distaste, which was overthrow as he failed to fight off a smile at her lame joke, a soft pink blush creeping on his cheeks at the implication.

“Fine. But juscht don’t try any funny sctuff, or I’ll kick your assch.”

Her snicker made his face redden deeper.

“Noted.”

.

The scars greeting her from Toki’s bare back were alarming, to say the least. But they were old, multiple years old, the skin long healed and morphed into a pale off white, with only a few remaining a light, almost imperceptible pink. He was tense and silent, breathing shallowly, probably waiting for her to ask, but she wasn’t going to.

No need to bring up bad memories. Just get the basics without being direct.

“Have you had any surgeries or broken bones in your life?”

“No skurgeries, buts a fews bones breaks when I was littles.”

“Were you medically treated for them? Did they heal properly? Ever have any pain in those areas, like when the weather changes?”

“Um, sometimes, whens it about to starts raingings. Deys ache.”

Olive nodded, scribbling the info down on his chart in her messy handwriting, not missing how he avoided the first two questions.

“Alright, you can get dressed, I think I got everything I needed.”

The guitarist exhaled a slightly uneven breath, muscles relaxing as he yanked his shirt back on, shooting the woman before him a thankful look and settling back on the exam chair.

“You’re in the best shape of anyone else I’ve seen so far, man. Keep it up.”

One congratulatory pat on the shoulder later and Toki was exiting the room, yelling to someone in the waiting area as he walked out that he was better than them.

.

A long, weary sigh snuck it’s way past Olive’s lips as she waited for her last patient of the day to arrive, mulling over her previous interactions with the band.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

“Long day, huh?”

Chuckling tiredly, she turned to greet the redhead as he meandered in, bee lining for the exam chair and hoisting himself up without being asked, settling at the very edge of the cushion.

“Yeah, man, just a bit.”

Green eyes sparkled at her in amusement, pierced brow raising as he began to tap out a light beat with his feet, elbows resting on his knees.

“Yehp, the other guys can be real douchebags aboot this stuff. Hope dey didn’t give yeh too much trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” the response was automatic and half-hearted as she scribbled a note about his fidgeting on the clipboard in hand.

“Dat so?”

She looked up at that and immediately regretted it. There was that damned side grin of his again.

“Y- yeah.”

Oh my god did I just fucking stutter?

It took all she had for her newly weak knees to not give out under her as he gave her a wink.

“Atta girl.”

This man is going to be the death of me.

.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Lots of dialogue in this, hope I didn’t ruin it. Comments are my life blood!

#metalocalypse #dethklok #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #william murderface #charles foster offdensen #writting #momento mori

[jackandmarksavedme88]

@ashphoenix06 @weirdmixofweirdness @honestlyitsjustkennaswriting @emma-wrote

TW: Violence anxd Blood

(I dont have a title for it lmao)

I could hear Jack in the next room recording his let's play; I heard him laugh and giggled. "My best friend is an idiot." I checked my phone, waiting for him to be done. I looked around and wondered how the hell i got here. Four years ago i was just someone just watching his videoes. Now? He's one of my best friends....something i would've laughed in your face for even suggesting it could happen. And yet here i am.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stand up...something's wrong. I realized its too quiet. I look toward Jack's game room and realize its silent.... except for a faint static sound.

"Jack?? You ok in there dude?"

My question was met with silence.

"Jack?" I get up and walk towards the door to the room hes in. The sound makes me shiver. 'What the hell is that?' I wonder.

"Hey... You ok?" I say as i knock on the door

"Ye-yeah...Im good...hey listen i dont think i can go tonight."

I frown "Huh? The whole reason anyone is coming is because youre here in LA for a while and they havent seen you in forever"

I hear him breathing hard "Just...go and tell them im sick"

I turn the knob slightly to open the door "Jack, are you sure youre ok?

"YES! ITS JUST A DAMN HEADACHE. GO"

I jump back, startled at the rage and pain mixed in his voice.

"Uh..o-ok...... If you need something let me know" I turn and walk out of the apartment hes renting and frown as i step onto the street

'What the hell was that?' I wonder.

I see a text from Amy asking if we are on the way. I dial her

'Hellllooooo?' I hear her boyfriend Mark's goofy voice

'Hey guys...jack is sick. He's not coming tonight'

Theres a pause as they take in the confusion and hurt in my voice

'What happened?' Asked Amy

'Fuckin beats me. But if he was a girl id guess PMS. He yelled at me! But its whatever. I'll just go hang out at home. I dont feel much like going anywhere anymore"

"No. Im going to come get you." Amy said. "Ill invite Katherine and Tyler and Ethan and we will all hang out at our house.... I dont want you alone right now"

I knew why. Mark and Amy knew all about the nightmares, the panic attacks. All of it started ten months ago and whenever they could, they kept me company

I was quiet...thinking back. To that night that everything came crashing down. The facade i built up was torn away.

*************

"Ugh. Youre talking to them AGAIN? Why do you feel the need to be up their asses"

I jumped, startled by Brandon speaking from the doorway

"Jesus babe. You scared me! Im watching Jack's video and talking to him and Mark."

'Yeah. Like you do every freakin day. You ever think they get tired of you?" His words dripped coldly, stabbing at a well known insecurity and finding their mark

I took a deep breath "No. Because they would say so. They would tell me 'hey. I dont feel like talking' and that would be that"

Brandon rolled his eyes "Yeah. Whatever. I dont see why youre friends with them anyway. They take too much priority. You should be focused on other things...like me"

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes "I focus on you enough. Come watch with me! Its funny!"

"No. Thanks. I have better things to do. You should too" his voice getting that edge to it...the one I knew too well, it made me cringe but at the same time pissed me off

"I really dont get what your deal is." I said

"My deal is they stick their nose where it doesnt belong and they dont know when to walk away....especially that little Irish asshole" he sneered.

That struck me for some reason "Hey! Jack has never done anything to you Brandon. Neither has Mark for that matter. Back the hell off" I said, standing up and facing him

His green eyes flashed darkly "You need to watch how you talk to me. Thats another thing, you get mouthy when you talk to them. You forget where you belong"

I stared at him...wondering how the hell it had come to this. He wasnt always this way...and i wasnt always afraid of what would happen...

Mouthy?! If standing up for myself and people i care about makes me mouthy then i guess so! And what do you mean they dont know how to walk away? What the hell are you talking about? Whatd Jack do that was so bad?"

He barked a laugh out "When we went out to LA for you to see them, he didnt like how he perceived i was treating you. He threatened me. Him and Mark. Threating me! Not that you care"

I thought about that trip. About the bruise on my face i got the first night for a hug that lasted too long. The bruise on my arm when i wanted to go dance but not with Brandon... Thats when Jack, Mark and Amy had begged me to stay there.

To leave Brandon... Thats when they peeked behind the curtain i had kept up for the last two years.

"What do you mean by threatened?" I asked warily. Not sure what happened

" He waited till you went to the bathroom with the girls and slammed me up against the wall and said if i knew what was good for me Id 'treat you better' and he better not hear of it again" Mark just stood there and watched it and when i went to say something to him he said it was better that Jack did it because he wouldve done worse! Thats what your precious friends did." He spat. Words dripping with disdain.

I stood speechless.... I didn't think anyone gave a crap. Sure they said they did and wanted me to leave...but i didnt think i was a friend worth threatening someone over

"Well. Thats what happens when you care about someone. You protect them" i said quietly...before i realized what that would set off, then steeled myself for it

The atmosphere of the room changed. It went from normal to almost foggy. The tension grew thick. Brandon stepped up close to me, his 6ft frame dwarfing my 5'3" one.

"Im the ONLY person that gives a shit about you. They keep you around for entertainment. You think they care? You could disappear and in a month they wouldnt even remember your name. Im the one that takes care of you. Im the one that made you who you are. You would still be in your moms house in that backwoods town if it wasnt for me! You keep forgetting just where you stand in this relationship Alison. Keep pushing and im going to have to reteach you some things" his words were almost a whisper

"Now. Unless you want me to wait and kick his ass myself to make him leave you be, i suggest you not talk to him as much." He said smiling...it didnt quiet reach his eyes though. Those were cold and hateful

The thought of him putting hands on jack was too much. I stepped up right in his face

"You can do whatever you want to me. Say what ever you want to me....but dont you EVER threaten one of them again!" I spit out the words, my emotions and courage suprising me

I shouldve prepared myself, but the smack caught me off guard and i fell against the wall. He grabbed me and turned me to face him, pressing my back to it

"I told you. Dont. Speak.To.Me.That.Way" he spit out as he painfully grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him.

"Brandon.. Let go!" I cried. He just laughed and hit me in the ribs on each side. I went down to my knees

"Get up you pathetic bitch. You want to stand up for your man, then do it"

"Brandon. Hes my friend. Why do you have to be this way. Hes a friend!" I yelled through my tears

"Oh. I know. Because why would he want something like you? But you seem to forget how to talk to me" his words dripped in hatred and anger. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and drug me to my feet. "Now. Are you going to do as told? Or do i need to convince you further?"

I breathed in sharply, pretty sure a rib was at the least bruised if not broken. But then i thought back to what he said. Thought of what hed do to Jack....because he really was that possesive.

"Im waiiiiting Ali. Or do you need a visual of what ill do to him? Id probably start at his kneecaps. Break those and hes at my mercy. Then ill work over his ribs and his face...if im feeling generous i might stop before theres a need for ICU...."

That did it. I went numb and saw red. I couldnt feel the pain in my face or ribcage anymore. The thought of it sent me flying into his face

I think it suprised him because i had never fought back before. Id always bowed down to whatever he wanted. Because i thought i loved him. Because i thought he was all i had.

I screamed as i drove myself into him and out into the living room. He tripped on his own feet and i landed on him, throwing fists anywhere theyd land. I heard a crack as i landed one on the bridge of his nose and blood started to flow. He yelled and grabbed me and flipped me over. He smacked me in the face and his body weight pinned me to the floor

"You dumb cunt. You really thought that would work? Did you really think you could make me do what you wanted by fighting back????? Youre mine and you will obey me!!" He punched me in the face and i almost blacked out. He looked up to the coffee table and saw his pocket knife and got a look of pure evil in his eyes. "And apparently you need a reminder of the fact that whats mine is MINE" With one hand he held my wrists as i struggle to break free, with the other he grabbed the knife and popped it open, the blade sharp and gleaming.... This was it... I knew i was going to die. Hed threatened so many times and hes finally going to do it.

He lifted the bottom of my shirt up, exposing my stomach. "Now. Hold still sweetheart" he purred coldly.

I started to kick and scream as i felt the knife drag across and slice my skin open....and the world went black..

..........

I slowly came to, blinking against the fluorescent lights. I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust. Feeling dizzy, worn out... What the hell was going on?

"No. Shes been out of it since she came up here. Theyve given her medicine to help her rest and keep her calm. No, i dont know what they think yet...... Yes i know you want to kill him but the fact is, youre in England and hes here in Texas... Jack. Dude ill let you know, i promise...alright. Bye'.... I knew that voice..

I was confused. What is Mark talking about and why the hell does he sound so close? My eyes finally cleared and i could see Amy on the couch against the windows... Mark was pacing back and forth. His hair messed up like it is when he constantly runs his hands through it....i knew that was a nervous tic of his... I realized I was in a hospital bed

"M-Mark? I croaked out. Throat dry

He turned sharply "Alison!" Rushing to the bed side he grabbed my hand "Hey...welcome back" I looked to the other side where Amy had perched on the bed next to me, a worried look

"What.....what the hell happened?" I murmured, thoughts jumbled. I looked in Marks eyes, they were wet with tears that he blinked away quickly. "That bastard almost killed you.... The neighbor heard you screaming and called the cops....when they got there they could hear it so they busted in... He broke four of your ribs, gave you a concussion and cut you all up....you had me and Amy on emergency numbers so we got here this morning....youve been here about 24 hours." Tears streamed down his face as he squeezed my hand. I felt Amy rub my arm and looked over to her.

"You guys didnt have to come all the way here for me. Really.... Thats crazy. Amazing. But crazy"

"Heh" mark laughed "jack wanted to jump a flight from England... Oh i better call him"

He walked outside the room and shut the door

"Alison....I want you to come home with us when you get out of here. Im not leaving you in that apartment." Amy said, determination on her face. I knew there was no arguing.

"Ok...maybe for a little while..." I trailed off. We sat in silence for a moment

"By the way....cops said you broke that assholes nose and an orbital bone. Also busted his ribs when you were kicking him when he cut you...nice job" she laughed bitterly

**********

Ali??" Amy said over the phone. I snapped out of my daydream. "Yeah Amy...Im here. Um...Im just not up to people tonight... I promise im ok. If im not, I'll call you." I said

It was quiet for a moment and then Mark spoke up "Are you sure? We can be to your place in no time." I smiled "Yeah guys. Im sure. Ill talk to ya'll tomorrow" i hung up the phone after saying goodbye and walked to my car. Pondering what my life had become in just a few years..... 'Screw this. Im going for a drink' i said aloud.

I went back to my apartment and picked out my black dress from the back of the closet. I felt like wearing it for the first time since i bought it. I held it up to my body and studied my reflection and laughed, remembering the day i bought it

*********************

"Amy..... I really dont think i can come out in this" i said from inside the dressing room

"Alison Jaymes if you dont step out here right this minute im crawling under the door!' She said laughing

I grimaced...embarrassed to be in something cut so low.....sure my legs looked great and it gave me great cleavage but..... id be a laughing stock if i walked in anywhere in this...but i knew shed do what she said. i cracked the door and peeked out, making sure no one was around and stepped out.

Amy's eyes widened "holy crap! Girl. You have to get that. You look amazing!!!!"

"Yeah. Right im sure. And where or when would i wear the damn thing.... It shows too many of...these" i said bitterly as i traced the light scar down my arm and then one on my leg...both left that night by Brandon

Amy stepped closer to me "Ali, you look amazing. Please get it. Especially since your hair is that cherry cola color. Your green eyes pop and this dress just completes it. You.look.amazing..... I bet Jack would be speechless....and thats hard to think of" she laughed, looking at me mischeviously

I threw my head back and laughed. "Yeah. Speechless as to why i would wear something like this. I could have a Playstation attached to my head and he wouldnt notice me. Not that way..and thats fine. But.....this would be good to wear out to get drinks...meet a stranger....dance. Hmmm"

********************

I finished my eyeliner was applying my red lipstick. I stepped back from the mirror and admired myself. Id lost about thirty pounds in the last few months and had to admit i didnt look half bad.....i slipped my heels on and grabbed my coat and walked to the car.

As i was putting the keys in the ignition, my phone rang. I looked down at it as the screen lit up with Jacks face

"Hello? " I answered. Not knowing what to expect

"A-alison?" Jacks voice came through the phone raspily. It made me shiver

"Yeah Jack. Whats up?" I asked, a little worried now. He didnt sound like himself

"Hey...im really sorry about that... I-I didnt mean to yell at you at all. Its just...hard to fight those headaches and....well im just sorry ok?" He said, rushing through his words. I could tell he was tired. Worriedly i said " Are you sure you dont need anything? I have medicine in my purse. I could go get you some food or something...." Losing all thought of going out. Wanting to know what was actually going on

"Yeah...maybe...maybe some soup or something?" He asked. I smiled "Sure. I can do that. Give me a little bit and I'll be there, ok?" He sighed "Ok...and Ali? Again im really sorry-"

"Ah ah" i stopped him. It doesnt matter now. We're good. " i hung up, still worried, but glad to not end on a bad note. I got back out of the car and hurried inside. Instead of changing i just grabbed some sweat pants and old tshirt to change into when i got there.

About an hour later i knocked on the door. Jack opened it and invited me in...not speaking. I was carrying some chicken soup from the diner i loved going to. Homemade and it smelled amazing

"Hey. Thanks for coming back....what is all that?" Jack chuckled as i put the food and a bag from the pharmacy on the counter

"Well, i got tylenol, ibprophen and even some icy hot and vicks..... I didnt know what was causing the headache so i just grabbed what i use for different ones" I studied him for a moment.... "You sure you're ok? You freaked me out"

He looked at me with a sad expression "Yeah...im really sorry Ali...i dont know what happened. I feel like an asshole" he stared at the ground. I stepped toward him and put my hand on his shoulder. "Hey. I told you not to apologize anymore. All is forgiven. I just want to make sure youre ok Jack. Thats all that matters..ok?" He looked up, his blue eyes staring into mine and nodded. "Yeah...okay" he sighed and relaxed.

The he looked me up and down "what the hell are you wearing?" He laughed

I looked down, suddenly remembering the clothes in the bag on the table and the fact that i had my dress on. Blushing i laughed "Well. I was on my way to get a drink when you called.....i brought some clothes to change into.. I look dumb i know, i just didnt want to take the time to change' He looked down at my feet "were you going to wear your converse to the bar??" He said teasingly.

I laughed "No! I had heels on, but i didnt think you needed to see all that! Shut up!" I said throwing my hands up. Uncomfortable under his gaze all of a sudden. Feeling his baby blues on me

He touched my arm lightly and chuckled "hey. Im sorry. I didnt mean anything by it. Honestly you look great Alison. Ive never seen you dressed up like this"

I stared at my feet for a moment, trying to regain composure. "Well. Let me go change. You start eating" i said. Grabbing the bag with my clothes i went into the bathroom and changed.

After eating we sat down and popped in a movie. As it played i watched Jack from the other end of the couch...studying him. He seemed normal....i guess. There was still something off...but maybe hes just getting sick.

I held out the bowl of popcorn wed made and offered it to him. When he didnt notice i took a piece and tossed it at the side of his face

"Huh?! What the hell?" He said. I laughed "dude. You were spaced the hell out!" He grabbed the bowl and then looked at me mischeviously. He got a handful of popcorn and lobbed them at my face, laughing

"Hey! I threw a single piece! Not fair!" I dove over to his side of the couch for the bowl, giggling as he transferred it to his far hand and held it out of reach. "Urghh. Why am i so..short?" I growled as i struggled to reach it.

"Because its fun to play keep away" Jack laughed. I tried to get up to steal it but he held me with one arm. "Thats not fair either!" I laughed, collapsing as he poked me in the side. I looked down at him, one arm stretched over the side of the couch with the bowl of popcorn and me pretty much just laying on him....suddenly very aware of my face's proximity to his face...i flushed crimson and sat up and adjusted myself so i was again leaning to the other side of the couch

"Rude. Im ticklish and short...whats your flaw?" I jokingly pouted. He threw his head back and laughed. "You don't have the time or mental space for all my flaws Alison" Jack got up "Ill be right back. I want to make sure the video uploaded right" he walked into his game room, leaving the door cracked open.

After about five minutes i stood up, stretching and went to the kitchen to get a drink. As i was standing there, my back to the living room, i heard...laughter? My head whipped around...that didnt sound like Jack though. It was...weird. I sat my glass on the counter and creeped up to the crack in the game room door.

"Jack....hows the video?" My question was met with silence so i pushed the door open.

Jack sat in the corner of the room, on the floor, back to me with his head in his hands. His head was moving...twitching side to side..

"J-Jack? Are you ok?" I walked slowly to him...suddenly aware of how very silent it was...i couldnt even hear outside nosies....

I reached my hand out and right as i was about to grab his shoulder he spoke...pained....like he was fighting with the words.

"Al-Alison....go back to the living room....please....please just go.....just go in there ok? Give me a little bit...Im-Im fine but i need you to go...shut the door....please ali"

I shrunk back...he sounded almost desperate. "Jack. Please...let me help you...if youd just tell me what's wrong...."

He laughed bitterly "No. I need to be alone on this...please just go....and....do one other thing?" he sounded serious. I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to jerk him up and find out what was going on.

"What is it?" I asked softly.

"Ali.....just remember..no matter what i say when i get like this .. I love you. Ok? I dont say it enough but i do. You're always there for me " i stood there...replaying his words, my heart hammering in my chest as he suddenly bent further down, face almost touching the floor and grabbing his head. I ran out of the door and shut it, my hand lingering as i wispered "i love you too......"

I sat looking at my phone, trying to distract myself. It buzzed with a new message. It was from my cousin Jennifer.

J: Hey cousin. What're you up to??"

Me: Nothing. Over at the apartment Jack's renting while hes in LA. You

J:Nm. Ooooooo Jack huh? You ever admit to yourself, or him, what a major crush you have on him? Or still in denial?

Me:Jen! No. And im never telling him that! Its fuckin weird. He's my best friend and thats it

J: whatever. You know, you just need to grab him by the shirt and lay one on him. I bet yall would be down and dirty in two seconds

Me: omfg Jen. Im done with you lmfao. Jesus. Dirty ass mind

J: Yeah. Like you haven't daydreamed about him saying your name in that cute little accent in the bedroom. But seriously....say something. Youll never know till you do

Me: yeah ok. Thanks Dr Phil.

I put my phone down, laughing at her. Then looked up when i heard the game room door open. Jack stepped out, looking as though hed been through a war.

"Jack!" I just up and hurried to him. Wrapping an arm around his waist i led him to the couch. "Sit your ass down. And tell me whats going on" i demanded as we sat on the couch.

He looked at me, his blue eyes searching mine. "Alison. There are some things i never want you to deal with....and that is one of them" i reached my hand out, cupping his face. "Jack. Youre my best friend. And i swear to you Im here. No matter whats going on...ok?" He nodded and closed his eyes, leaning his head to the side trapping my hand to his shoulder.

He suddenly looked up. Almost....frightened.

"Jack?" I said quietly. He turned toward me.... Everything became very still, his head twitched to the side. "Damnit" he whispered, standing quickly. This time i followed him as he walked away.

"Oh no. We aint doing this shit again. What the hell is happening" i demanded. He suddenly stopped at the closed bedroom door and i ran into his back

Jack....c'mon. This isnt funny." I said, angry and little bit terrified

He began to laugh but....it was off. It sounded....higher pitched and crackling. Suddenly he shook his head "No! Leave her alone!!!" He shouted, smacking the side of his head.

"Jack! What the hell!?" His head twitched side to side. I stepped back, the hair on my arms standing up. Something is wrong here. I reached out slowly, touching his shoulder and in a whisper choked out "Ja--Jack?"

Suddenly i was being twisted and thrown backwards against the wall, his hand at my throat, head hanging to his chest. "Jack!" I screamed. "WHAT ARE YOU----"

My words died in my throat as he raised his head, his beautiful blue eyes had been replaced by emotionless black. His head cocked to the side as he grinned evily at me.. Teeth seeming longer

"Alison" the thing purred "Dont you know when someone says to leave them alone. .you should? You know the saying about the cat and curiosity dont you kitten?" All color drained from my face

"An--anti? What. How?" I stammered. Not believing this" he got rid of you....you were gone!

The demon threw his head back and laughed. "Oh Ali....you think this...weakling could kill ME? You think id be defeated by your BOY?" He spit out mockingly, his grasp tightening on my throat. "Jack and i. We are the same person. Without me, theres no him" he giggled that insane laugh again. Id only ever heard it in videos....it was so much worse in real life

"Anti. Hes NOTHING like you. Hes pure good. Strong, smart and successful. Youre just a glitched out bitch that has become a joke. Your angry turtle voice isnt going to scare me. Show me something worthwhile or get the hell out!"

His gaze locked onto mine, it felt as though he was staring deep into my soul.....then he smiled, the grin sinister.

He leaned right into my face, waving the knife that was in his other hand and running it gingerly down my arm. "Should i leave a few more scars? Im a bit more well learned in this than Brandon was though Princess.....i bet my scars will run deeper..maybe ill let Jack watch as i cut you.. I think hed enjoy it" he growled. I stiffened at his words.

"Anti. Youre nothing like him. Youre not even HALF the man Jack is' i spit out, pissed off and scared. He studied me for a moment and leaned over into my ear. His breath hot on my neck

"You think hes just so perfect? Such a good boy?" He purred into my ear "i just want to cut you....to make you feel pain. Him? He wants you to enjoy it when he hurts you" his knife traced my side as he spoke. " They say Im from hell and some of the things in his head when hes around you almost make me blush" the words came out half amused and half disgusted. He leaned back and laughed, the sound twisted and distorted. "Hes a pussy. Cant even do anything about this.....he couldnt even save you from Brandon...and he reallllly wanted to let me loose that day. Had him against the wall and everything" The glitch laughed darkly

"And now. He gets to watch while i kill you.....i might even let him back to reality after so he can feel your blood on his hands" Antisepticeye giggled again.

"Jack! I need you to wake up.....i need you to fight this! Please!" I pleaded, searching for any sign of him in the abyss that his eyes had become. "Jack!!!" I raised my hand and slapped him almost instinctively.

All of a sudden he fell to his knees. Clutching his head. "Aghhhhh!!!" His yell ripped from his throat, the sound of torture.

"Jack. Fight him! Please!!!! " i dropped to my knees in front of him and grabbed his face in ny hands. When i forced him to look at me his right eye shown that beautiful blue color...the other still black. "Jack. Come on. Please. You can do this. Please come back! I didnt tell you i love you too!! You have to come back so i can tell you!!"

I began to sob as he fell to the floor, jerking and holding his head, cries of pain eminating from deep within.

And suddenly.....he was still.

I reached for him, still on my knees. "Jack?" I said softly as i touched him. I rolled him over. His eyes were closed and he was too still for a long moment

Then he coughed. I sank to the side, butt hitting the ground and sighed. He half sat up and looked at me. Both eyes the most beautiful shade of blue id ever seen

We stood up and after a moment he looked at me. "Alison....oh my God. Your neck..." I looked at him "My neck?! Thats what youre going to comment on??!?" I half yelled incredulously. "Really?! Not the fact that Anti has been screwing with you??? You didnt think we needed to know?!"

Jack stepped closer to me, fingers trailing my throat....tracing the sore spots left by anti's hand. "Im so sorry....i didnt mean to...i.... Oh God whats happening to me?! He cried out.

I stepped forward and buried my face in his chest hugging him tightly. Both of us crying.

"Jack.....i almost lost you." I whispered.

"He almost killed you Alison......that asshole almost......and i couldnt stop him! How fuckin useless am i? He cried out

I stepped back and looked at him and then held him tightly. "Jack. You didnt do anything wrong " i said

"It was MY hand around your throat Ali!!!" He yelled as he pushed away. "Dont you get it? I stay so far away so i dont end up hurting anyone." He turned his back to me, wiping his face and walked to the bedroom.

I followed him and sat beside him on his bed. Silence stretched out. Neither of us knowing what to say. Then he spoke "I cant believe i threw you into a wall and choked you..."

I laughed and before my brain could filter my words i said "Oh cmon....it wasnt that bad. I mean, if not for the whole Anti posessing you thing it wouldve been kinda hot!".... Then realizing what i said i fell backwards and just laughed, soon he was laughing his ass off right next to me. "What the ACTUAL FUCK Alison!!???" He sputtered, the fuck sounding more like FOOK in his accent, as he laughed more. "I dont fuckin know. I was almost choked out by a demon glitch Jack!" I shot back through my laughs.

Soon the laughter died and i sat up. Taking a deep breath...Suddenly he grabbed my hand and said softly.. "Did you mean it?"

I looked at him. "Did i mean what?" I asked. He looked down at the floor and then spoke as he raised his gaze to meet mine "When you said you loved me......did you mean it?

I stared at the ground a long while...then stood up fidgeting with my hands and i walked back across the room, putting my back to him as i spoke

"I-i....mean..." I sighed hard and just let the words out "Yeah. Ive always meant it when i said it Jack.... For the last three years." I heard him stand and walk up behind me. "Well alison....you couldve said something." He said softly

I laughed and turned to face him "Yeah. Let me just tell my best friend that somewhere along the way i fell for him. Let me open myself up to THAT rejection. Ha! No. Thanks im good with that." He studied my face intently, then reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear and cupping my chin

"What kinda of an idiot would reject you?" He asked softly and then said "well....ok im an idiot for not noticing.....but not that big of an idiot. I have my limits you know..' and with that leaned his face down and pressed his lips to mine. The world stopped for a minute, and then i wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back as he pulled me against him.

When he pulled back we were both breathless "Jack....." I said and then stopped. Not knowing what to say so i leaned against his chest. Wrapping my arms under his to hold him. His hands trailed up and down my back as we stood there, completely comfortable in our slience.

He sharted shaking and laughing again out of no where. I stepped back and he shook his head "Sorry. Sorry. Just what you said earlier... I cant believe that came outta your mouth!"

Putting my hands on my hips i glared at him playfully "you just haaad to go a ruin a great moment didnt ya!" Then i started laughing too.

He put his hands on my shoulders "Ali...hon. Im sorry its just hilarious hearing you say that! Dirty minded much?" Then he stopped and very slowly stepped closer and closer to me until my back hit the wall softly and he stared me down with a serious look.

"J-Jack?? Very funny. Ha ha. Stop it"

He smiled. His blue eyes twinkling. "What? I just wanted you to have a better memory of being backed into a wall by me is all" his hand softly pressed to my throat as his mouth captured mine again, more urgent this time, pressing his body to mine. Softly but in control of my every move.

[bitegore]

I hope things work out for you. For the character ask, could you do Jazz, Starscream, or Rung?

i can do all three!

Jazz

How I feel about this character

cool decent guy; wish there was more of him that i knew about. i mean, he was in TFA, but like, TFA Prowl was nothing like Prowl whatsoever so i don’t really consider TFA Jazz to be that similar to g1 Jazz, but like,,,, he wasn’t in TFP and he wasn’t memorable in the movies and he hasn’t shown up in Cyberverse and i’m all of one episode into the g1 cartoons, and those are the only shows I’ve seen (read: started and got stuck in the middle of

All the people I ship romantically with this character

no.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

ready for something you’re going to probably not expect? great. Rumble, Frenzy, and Jazz

i just feel like they’d get along. gut feeling, no real textual basis for it. 

but its cute and i like it, so i will not stop

My unpopular opinion about this character

I can’t really see him with Prowl? mostly that’s because they’ve interacted all of like three times that I’ve seen with my eyes, though.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

more of him

please

Starscream

How I feel about this character

ohohohoHO, him. 

i hate him. 

i love him so much. i hate him so much. i would absolutely strangle him to death if we met in person and then id be sad about it, and then id put flowers on his grave. and possibly also kick his gravestone. 

im just… very torn on starscream, can you tell

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Wheeljack

Blurr

Megatron

Thundercracker and Skywarp (together, but not separately)

Rattrap

…….. don’t hit me for the next one.

it’s vigilem.

don’t @ me

elita-one

bumblebee

rodimus

Blitzwing (especially in the All Hail Megatron comics and earlier)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

starscream x therapy

starscream x a decent night’s sleep

starscream x decent mental health

i’m so flippant im sorry

but no legitimately? i have a very hard time seeing starscream getting along with any one individual as a non-romantic thing because he’s very…. he expects people to be warring for something, and if they start being friendly either its blackmail or sex, as far as I feel like he feels. If you know what I mean.

My unpopular opinion about this character

i hate woobie-oh-woe-is-me-and-i-am-sad TAAO starscream. like, i’m okay with Starscream being a disaster, but he should still be claws-out clinging to whatever he can hold despite that. his ambition is a central part of him and i hate that they took it away from him, and especially because of Windblade.

TAAO literally made me salty enough that i was metaphorically dehydrated for two weeks. i hated the thing with ‘a little piece of truth’ or whatever, i hated Starscream’s “true body” thing, i hated his reaction to it, and i felt like windblade saw no fucking truths, after the way she left afterwards. like. starscream’s pretty much every move was just one cry for help after another paired with a massive conviction that everyone else was out to get him. he needed help, not to be told that everything he ever tried to do was a failure and that he wasn’t worth her time. 

which isn’t exactly what she said, but it’s what she said, come on, we all know that.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon

can he please be portrayed as more competent earlier on? like he’s clearly not stupid, he’s not bad at what he does, he’s surprisingly decent at ruling a country; what the fuck happened during the Costa run? 

(the answer is Costa. Of course.)

(Fuckin’ Costa.)

Rung

ah, rung. 

How I feel about this character

he annoys me to death and i don’t understand what everyone likes so fucking much about him

like. ok, hes a fairly nice person. thats it. hes so … so fucking… bland. like. meh. i guess if you like characters that have the personality of an unsalted cracker, go ahead. 

All the people I ship romantically with this character

no. 

call me old fashioned or small minded or whatever but like, he’s a therapist, that really squicks me out to think that he’d be in a relationship with any of his patients, and it’s not like he ever interacts with anyone else. 

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Rung and Fort Max

My unpopular opinion about this character

hes boring and im sick of him, in general. i’d like him to be more…. of a . person? be less like, fuckin placid. that annoys me. 

i did like Functionist Universe!Rung, and honestly? my guess is that was entirely because he had motivations! personality! something interesting i could get behind!

but standard Rung? no. boring. bland. he’s a slice of bread in a pile of blintzes.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

any of him being like, emotionally open at all, ever. 

although i guess that’s kind of a lost cause now. 

man i had, so much to write about starscream and like nothing for Jazz or Rung. Sorry 

send an ask with a character (or a few) and ill break them down!

#red replies #rung #jazz #starscream

[fuckthis-and-fuckthat]

The Hotel

Jeffrey dean MorganXreader

A/N- I had this dream and I thought it would be great for a fic. So here it is. It was written on the span of 3 hours at 2 in the morning. It is garbage. Like me.

Summary- You're on a road trip and just happen to stop at a hotel at the wrong time. You weren't expecting it to be under attack or to meet the man of your dreams. 

Warning- murder, blood, cursing. 

A/N- this will most likely be a series. Idk how long. 

@tbhimprobablylost1613

Something was immediately off. You felt it in the air around you. The men in all black with ear pieces in and carrying huge bags. It wasn't right. Looking around the hotel lobby, there were more and more entering through the front doors, and you noticed a few guns placed in their belts. As soon as you saw a man take out a large piece of metal and stuck it through the door handles, you pulled out your phone, dialing 911. Explaining what was going on, you quickly exited through a door, leading down a hallway, shoving your phone deep in your bra. You start to run as fast as you could towards the back exit, hoping to get out, but not such luck. As you make a bealine around a corner, you run into a large man, tumbling down on your ass. "Mph..fuck." looking up, your met with a tall man wrapped in leather and a salt and pepper beard. Looking into those hazel, eyes, your heart leapt to your  throat. "Oh my god." You gently breath out, "You're JDM." Mentally smacking yourself, you rush to your feet and he places his hands on your elbows to help while chuckling. "Yeah, that's me, Darlin'. Whatcha' runnin' for?" Asking as he licks his bottom lip, you quickly remember what's happening. The look of pure horror and panick washes over your face and Jeffrey notices by the way his eyebrows twitch. "I-um..." Y/N, this is not a time for stuttering! Your brain screams at you. Letting your brian take over, you kick away your nerves as best as you can. "The hotel is about to be under attack. The police are on the way. We need to leave now." Obviously a little confused, he blinks a few times, "What?" Rolling your eyes, you sigh angrily, "There's men in the lobby who just blocked the door and have large bags. They have ear pieces and it's fishy. I called the fucking cops and we need to fucking leave before we get stuck in this shit!" Finishing off with no more breath, you grab him by his leather coated arm, pulling him down the hallway. Having no idea what Jeffrey is saying, you almost reach the door before he pulls against you, making you turn around, "Hey, hey!" He yells "I need you to calm the fuck down and explain better!" "Look, man! They have fucking guns and the front door is blocked. We. Need. To. Fucking. Go." Gritting your teeth together you look him dead in the eye, jumping when gun shots and screams rang out. "We need to leave. Now." Your voice was deeper, more serious as you spoke, and recognition appeared on his face Swallowing, he nodded, "Okay. Just stay behind me." Latching onto your hand, he grips it tightly and it takes all the strength in you to not melt in a puddle by how warm and large his hands are. You both reach the door and Jeffery tries pushing it open, but something is holding it in place, "Son of a bitch." His hand tightened slightly around yours as he thought for a moment. "Stay back." He pushes gently on your sromach and you step back. More gun shots are fired, and you jump at the noise. Watching as his leg went up, about to kick the door down, your whimpering voice stopped him. You knew what it was when it pressed to the back of your skull, the cool metal poking your skin. "Jeffrey..." your voice came out weak and scared, a little shakey. The moment he heard your voice, he turned on his heel, now facing you with a gun to your head. "Don't you fuckin' touch her." He growls, eyes becoming darker as each moment passes. "Oh, don't worry, I won't touch a hair on her pretty little head." The man behind you bites back, running a hand down your side, "but that won't stop me from touching other things." His hand goes to your ass and your anger finally kicks in, saying 'fuck you' to fear. Jeffery's body was tence. Chest heaving and hands clenched. He wasn't happy and you knew it, but you looked him in his eyes, gently nodding, letting him know you had it under control. Your eyes roamed over to the wall where a fire alarm was, in a glass box. If you could just get him over there, you could break it and get away. Jeffery seemed to follow your eyes and he gave you a nod, letting you know he was on board with whatever plan you had. You move your body to the right, trying to get out of his grip, which you do a little, managing to only get so far until he pushes you against the wall right beside of the fire alarm. You bite your lip at the force of impact, groaning a little as your head aches. The man cackles out a laugh and both you and Jeffrey grimace. "Bad girl." He smirks, putting the gun into his belt. He now uses both hands to grip your hips and keeping you still. In a matter of seconds, youre taking your thumbs and pushing them into his eyes, pressing as hard as you can and blood trickles down his face. He snatches his hands away to grab at yours, crying out in pain when he grips your wrists. Pulling one hand away, you break the glass with your fist, grabbing whatever piece you can find, clenching it hard. There was only a few places you could actually stab him with the glass and you weren't about to be some stupid bitch in a movie who stabs him in the leg. It wouldn't go in his side because of the thick jacket he was wearing. So the only possible place would be the chest, stomach, or neck. Either way, this dude was going to most likely die. Gripping with all your strength, you slam it into his chest, and the glass slices your palm open wide. Jeffrey is by your side in an instant, pulling him away and pushing him to the ground, kicking him in his face, knocking him out. Jeffery grabs the guys gun, tucking it in the back of his pants. You lean your head back on the wall, sliding down, falling once again on your ass. Your legs are spread in front of you and you don't even care if Jeffrey can see up your short skirt. Your hand is burning intensely and blood is still flowing out of it, so you clench your hand back into a fist. Jeffrey is busy patting the man down, finding another gun and a pocket knife. You take the short moment to take in his form. Mentally laughing about how all the times you read about this exact moment in fan fiction. But you eyes land on his thighs in the black denim, squatted down. He stashed the knife in his boot and slides the gun over to you, still keeping his back turned. You pick it up, giggling at how it was like a scene from a movie. You do the same as him, tucking it in the back of your skirt, happy it was a little too tight around your waist, making the gun fit smoothly. When he turns around, his hazel eyes soften when they land on you. You look down, noticing how blood has now dripped onto your legs, and is probably now everywhere else. You gently smile at him and he smiles back, moving to sit on his knees between your legs. He cupps your cheek in his hand, checking your face for anything. You can't help but smile at him when his thumb brushes a tear that slips down your cheek. He smiles down at and places a kiss on your head. "I never caught your name." He says with the slightest since of humor, handing you a bandanna, wrapping it around your hand. You wince at the pain, but tell him to continue. "It's Y/N Y/L/N. And will you take a picture with me?" You ask, tilting your head to the side, a little laugh coming from your lips. "Why the hell not?" Jeffrey chuckles and you pull your phone free from your bra. "Here. Let me." He takes your phone from you and swipes over to the camera. When he holds it up, you can't help but cringe at your appearance. Blood had splattered on your face, but your makeup was still intact. You both smile as he snaps the picture, handing you back your phone, letting you stuff it back in your bra. "You okay?" He asks, concern clear in his voice, but not pressing too hard. "I mean, I just jabbed a dudes eye balls out and Stabbed him, so, as okay as I'm gonna be." You glance over at his lifeless form, feeling a bit ill ass you now actually take in the fact that there is a dead man infront of you and you're covered in his blood. You knock off the feeling, clearing your throat, "I think we should leave. They'll be coming soon to clear the area." Jeffery helps you up, making sure your steady, keeping a hand on your waist. "I think for right now, i's gonna' be tough, but yah gotta keep them feelin's away, Y/N. I don't fuckin' know what kinda shit we're gonna' have to do." His voice is sincere and rough all at the same time, and it makes your heart melt, but it's not the time for that, but you just nod, mumbling "I know." You know he's right. Who know's what's gonna happen, who know's what you're gonna have to do to survive. You nod your head as you talk in your mind, pushing away your feelings. "Let's do this shit." You grunt, reaching into your skirt, getting your pistol, cocking it. "You know how to shoot?" He asks, pointing at your gun. "I know enough." You shrugg. "Look." Stepping behind you, he wrapps his arms around you, placing your hands where they need to be, "thumb here, pointers here. When you shoot, keep your knees shoulder length apart and elbows locked, like this." He pressed onto your body with his chest, using his foot to kick apart your legs. "There yah go. Keep your thumbs out of the way. Where ever your thumbs are, that's what you're pointin' at." Letting go of you, he squeezes your shoulder. "What's your favorite tv show?" Jeffrey questions, and you giggle at the question. "The Walking Dead." He chuckles as well. "Who's your favorite character?" "Negan." "What would Negan do?" "He'd kick some fucking ass." "Then let's kick some fucking ass." Both of you feeling the electric buzz of adrenaline, you nod at eachother. Jeffrey takes out his gun as well, and you both round a corner. He points to the left and you point to the right. No one to be found, you stand side by side, taking a left turn, heading to the lobby. Reaching it, he holds up his hand to stop you, and he walks closer to the end of the hallway, peeping his head out just a little to see. Turning back around, he reaches you, mumbling a "about 30". Following him, he leads you down the hallway. When you near the elevators, you find a map. "All of the doors are gonna be blocked. We need a different way." You point up at the ceiling to the air vents, "we gotta do it like the movies. Let's John McClane this bitch." Finding a confrence room, there was a vent in the middle of the room, right above the large table. The vent looked to be big ebough that both you and Jeffrey could get in. "I'll hoist yah up." He suggests, helping you on the table, climbing in after you. He holds is hands out for you to stand on them, and he lifts you into the air. You hook your fingers onto the vent and loosen the bults, letting it open, but still being connected. "Higher" pushing you up higher, you stick your arms through the opening, trying to pull yourself up, struggling a little, so Jeffrey gives you a push, and you slide right in. "Alright, come on." Looking back down at him, he jumps, grabbing ahold of the edge, pulling himself up. Sweat had coated his skin and was glistening in the low lighting of the air vents, and you pryed your eyes away from him. You pull the vent back up, putting the bolts back on. "You got a lighter?" Digging into his pocket, he flicks open his zappo, lighting it before handing it over. "I'll go first." Getting onto all fours, he follows after you. You work your way through the vents, until reaching the end and coming to a turn, "left or right?" You ask "Go left." "Okie dokie." Taking a left you go to the end, asking the same question, this time getting a right. Then again, but this time you could see what looked to be sunlight, "we got sun!" You announce, picking up the pace the best you could. When you get to it, you look through, finding that you were at the side of the building, but you could see all of the caution tape and police cars, including swat team and news reporters. "This is our way out. It's a little bit of a jump." Closing his lighter, you hand it back to him. "You gotta go first on this one." Looking over at him and the tight air vent, you don't know how it's possible. But Jeffrey lays dow on his back "Here, crawl over me." He motions to his body, and you can't fight the bubbles in your tummy. "Don't look up my skirt." Straddling his lower legs, your legs don't have enough room to fit between him and the vent wall. "Okay, well um, I have to slide over you. Mah legs don't fit." "Whatever yah gotta do, Doll." He chuckles. There it is! You pratically scream with joy when he says the pet name that you've been waiting for. The one he always says in fanfics. "We ain't got all day." Tapping your thigh with his finger, you clear your throat. "Y-yeah." You pull your skirt up so it's now at the bottom of your ass, not on your thighs, that way you can move them more. You have just enogh room to slide up and starddle his stomach a little, so you do so, leaning foward so your hands are above his head. Looking down at him, he has a smirk pressed on his features, "you owe me a drink." Sliding up a little more, you pick up one of your legs, stretching just enough that you get your leg over his shoulder. Moving the other one, you are now pratically straddling his face and quickly move foward, feeling your cheeks redden. Jeffrey slides foward to where his feet are touching the vent. Leaning up on his hands, be kicks it once, twice, then it falls open. It's a little high jump down, so that's why you made him go first, and he lands pretty good. "Come on, sweetheart. Go feet first. I'll catch yah." Doing as he says, you dangle your legs over the edge, slowly sliding until you slip out, and Jeffrey catches you in his big strong arms. He sits you down on your feet, arms still around your waist, bodies still pressed together, and you can't help but smile brightly at him "we made it." You chirp, batting your eye lashes a little " "That we fucking did. How bout' we go get that pretty little face cleaned up and I grab yah that drink?" Smirking, he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "Sounds good. But we gotto go explain to those cops about what happened and that'll probably take all day. But after that, sure." "Alright, smart ass. Let's go." Chuckling, he keeps an arm around your waist as you walk, "and cute panties by the way." Stupid mid track, you smile and slap his chest, "Jeffrey Dean Morgan! I told you to not look!" "Oh, as if yah care." "Shut up."

#JDM #Jeffery Dean Morgan #imagine #JDM imagine #JJeffrey Dean Morgan imagine #JDM fic #Jeffrey Dean Morgan fic #fanfictuon #JDMxReader #Jeffrey Dean MorganXreader #TWD #twd fanfiction #TWD smut #smut #JDM smut #Jeffry Dean Morgan smut #TWD series #JDM series #NJeffrey Dean Morgan series #oneshot #JDM oneshot #Jeffrey Dean Morgan oneshot

[etinarcadiabayego]

My Before the Storm Playthrough

Episode 1: Awake

Welp. Here it is. I gotta gush. Get a few thoughts and stuff out along with my choices for this ep. All beneath the cut! :)

: MAJOR CHOICES : 1. You Ran. Decided to run with this (badum tiss…no? Okay…) because I’m a chicken shit XD Not that this choice is going to matter considering Episode 2′s preview. I’m still way more Max than I ever will be Chloe. Only in the spirit of her sadness and bitterness toward life and people am I most like Ms. Price. Otherwise, I internalize everything. It’s probably not a good thing tbh…But yeah. No war wounds for me. I miss a later scene where Rachel could have put makeup on me—damn it—but *shrug* First time choices XD 2. You were kind to Joyce. While I might not like some of the shit David says or does, I can understand him and Joyce. I was in the same predicament as Chloe when I was younger, only the guy my mom dated after she and my dad divorced wasn’t supportive of me or cared a lick about me whatsoever. Thank God they broke up after about a year or so. David sometimes has a shitty way of showing it, but at least he tries. Joyce has it rough and she needs a break. Like, damn. Joyce is also an almost picture perfect duplicate of my own mother, and I can’t help but feel for her and her struggle. 3. You defended Nathan. Okay. First of all, I know how the original story goes. And I know this is probably going to bite me in the ass in the next couple episodes. But, dude. DUDE. DAMN. I had a feeling that Nathan went through shit like this, and to see it ‘canonized’ in the prequel fucking hurt me so bad. SO BAD. FUCK. I hated him with a passion in the original Life is Strange up until I began to put pieces together about him, and then BAM he’s dead or goes to jail and hopefully—FINALLY—gets help with a plea of mental illness/insanity or some shit. The sad thing is, there’s nothing I can do about it. His fate was sealed before the original game ever started. So you can bet your ass in this prequel I was going to do something if I could. Ironically, it came in the form of Chloe fuckin’ Price. I am most like Max, almost shamefully, and I carry pieces of Chloe in me, too. But…there’s pieces of Nathan in me as well, and this scenario tore me up inside. So, I backtalked my way to victory for this little shit. *sigh* Always in the garbage can, I am. Also, as a side note, the “Protect Nathan” community has been bundled into a character, and her name is Samantha. Go, Samantha! XD 4. You told Rachel you are more than just friends. ALL ABOARD THE AMBERPRICE TRAIN. CHOO-CHOOOOOOOO!! GAY IN THE BAY, AWAAAAAAY! *soars off with a rainbow cape* But seriously though, these two are ripping me apart inside with how fuckin’ cute they are. And I couldn’t not say this. And later when Rachel admitted that she felt like there was something more? Fuck meeeeee. : MINOR CHOICES : 1. You took the money Because…I’m Chloe Price… ……bitch. 2. You purchased pot from Frank. I felt bad for Frank in the original game, even though he’s no angel himself, and thought I might as well square away my debts to him…at least in the prequel. You know, before Chloe ‘shits her pants’ at owing someone $1,000 $3,000 @_@ And because…I’m Chloe Price, bitch! 3. You read Joyce’s self-help book. Because I’m Max at heart, and I snoop like a motherfucker. Oh, a book! LET’S READ IT! And before anyone asks, yes. I found Joyce’s condoms. I died at Chloe’s reaction XD 4. You put the photo of William on the dresser. I was apprehensive of this at first, but…I understand, Chloe. I truly do. :’( 5. You didn’t slip money into Joyce’s purse. Maaaaan, I had a feeling when Joyce told us to grab her purse that we could have put the money in it if we had kept it, and lo and behold! That’s just a lesson to everyone, including myself. Drugs are bad, mmkay? 6. You told Eliot you would go to the play with him. Somehow, I feel like Eliot’s going to become another Warren… Plus, my canon for Chloe is that she’s a lesbian. She said in one of her letters to Max that she rubbed one out to Pris from Blade runner ffs. And I fucking died when reading said entry. 7. You told Skip you liked his demo. Man, Skip’s awesome! Though, he could have stepped in a little earlier when Drew was being a cockmonger to Nathan… 8. You finished the table top game with Steph and Mikey. Let me get this out: I would die for Steph and Mikey. Okay? They. Are. Fan. Fucking. Tastic. Characters. And I was just like Chloe with the whole newbie at the table top games, but I wanted to see it through! Fuck chemistry class! I mean, I accidentally ended up slicing off Mikey’s feet, but it was cool! :D 9. You sabotaged Victoria’s homework. And the resulting text session was fucking HILARIOUS. But it’s Victoria. I was nice to her as Max, but now I’m Chloe Price, bitch! 10. You told Rachel You believe in love. I’m a hopeless romantic, what can I say? Besides, I have to believe in SOMETHING. It keeps me sane. 11. You shared earbuds with Rachel. Because…why wouldn’t you? No, seriously, why wouldn’t you? ???? ?? ? ??? 12. You jumped out of the train. As Chloe and I both said at the same time when I selected it: “Fuck it!” : OTHER THOUGHS/COMMENTS/THEORIES FOR EPISODE 1: - Deck Nine. You’re amazing. Thank you so much. So far, it’s WONDERFUL. <3 - This game is so gay. SO GAY. If you thought the original was gay, WHOOO MAMA. - Chloe’s journal/letters hurts my soul so goddamn much. And I feel like it’s going to spark a lot of Max hate in the fandom. Not that there wasn’t before, but now. Shit. :( - Dude, all the Blackwell peeps in the class photo in Chloe’s room. And WARREN. OMG if he’s in this game I’m going to die. <3 - TREVOR HAS A LAST NAME. IT’S YARD! WHOO! - But…Courtney’s not in the class pic. Another transfer student maybe? :O - JUSTIN! EVAN! BROOOOS I MISSED YOU GUYS!!! YAAAS! AND MS. GRANT! AHH! - VICTORIA AND HER POOFIER HAIR LMAOOO!! Oh, lordie, I missed you, Queen Bitch. C’mere. Lemme fuck up your chem homework. - Principal Wells. Chill. We’re cool here. *sigh* Or not. 9_9 - Max…answer her fucking texts…like damn. I know she doesn’t. Fuck… - “In a heartbeat…in a heartbeat.” *bursts into tears* - Rachel’s dad is the District Attorney HOLEEEEY FUUUUCK. WHAT. - Has anyone else been in Chloe’s dream sequences and opened her journal? Do it. I’m fucking sitting here, terrified. What the fuck, Deck Nine. What the fuck. - “Nice Rachel we’re having.” CHLOE NO. OMG. XD - Chloe in the junkyard had me in fucking tears. Granted, this game had me grinning, laughing, and crying throughout the episode, but…my fucking heart. MY FUCKING HEART CANNOT OKAY. I had to stop playing for a couple hours after to not have a full-on anxiety attack. AND THE DREAM SEQUENCES. JESUS. - RACHELRACHELRACHELRACHELRACHEL IS GODDESS FDJKALFDASKFLAFJDKAL. - The raven and symbolism. Nice. I love Native American mythology and culture. <3 - “What kind of food?” Chloe Price--woman after my own heart XD - RACHEL AT THE LOOKOUT WITH THE GUY AND CPR LMAOOOOOOO. - Chloe’s fucking sass in this game, my lord <3 - Rachel. Rachel don’t kick the trash—and she kicked it. She kicked it and OH GOD. OH GOD FIRE. FIRE!!!! EVAN WOULD BE SO DIAPPOINTED. FUCK. - On one of the files in the drama club you can find out, I believe, Nathan’s mom’s name (Caroline Prescott) and Rachel’s mom’s name (Rose Amber). Cool! Not the names I gave them in my fanfic, but still cool! XD - [Chloe about Nathan]: ‘He’s really just a weird little dude trying to figure out his shit, but he has to pretend to be all this stuff he’s clearly not, like an athlete or a “cool” kid. You can tell it fucks him up inside.’ ……… :’( - I’ve seen a few posts already about Nathan being a drama nerd, as he’s one of the leads in the school play with Rachel. Which is interesting, but somehow, I don’t think it’s quite genuine. Same goes with the football team—which I never pictured Nathan playing sports, like ever, holy shit. I feel like it’s pushed on him to 1. Make him/his family/his father look better, and 2. To make Sean happy or proud of him in some way. Even the blurb about him being in the play seems to focus more on pushing the Prescott legacy further, and if Drew’s comment about Sean buying off the coach wasn’t enough. I dunno. We’ll see as the episodes go on, I hope, but hey! New stuff to work with in the fandom! Because, of course, Nathan could have ‘cried to Daddy’ and got his way with both because he wanted to be a part of them. His photography, though. That shit he’s passionate about. Obviously. If episode one’s scenes with him weren’t enough proof, I don’t know what could be for you. But, again, even Chloe’s entry about him says he’s trying to be what he’s not and it fucks with him. Like, fuck meeeee, my heart can TAKE THIS SHIT GAHHH. - The “Everybody is somebody, but nobody wants to be themselves” quote on the train is one that I think works well. I think Rachel is a bit smitten with Chloe’s rebellious spirit. She’s the “perfect angel” and part of the drama club, so she’s “not herself” a lot of the time and finds a new self in Chloe she wants to delve into maybe? The “human chameleon” as Jefferson called her. Everyone in the game seems to put up a front of some sort. Rachel with her perfection & happiness, Chloe with her toughness, Nathan with his…everything. Like, damn. Like the original game taught: nothing’s as it seems. Guuuuhhh. - I think Damon Merrick or whatever his name is is going to be, like, the dog ring guy Frank used to be with before he got Pompidou. And there’s gonna be some sort of sub plot of him leaving the ring with his new pup and becoming who he is in the first game. The betting stub found outside the mill clearly has names for dogs on it, and Frank doesn’t have Pompidou yet, and Chloe got to pet that one pit bull at the entrance to the mill. - So many names and callbacks. I love it. <3 I just…I love this.

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