#(just like the sounds made while monster mashing)

[areallystupidleaf]

okay country music is *not* my kind of music however GAY country music makes me giggle cuz im used to christian hetero country lmao and i can only imagine The Straights™️ thinking its the average country song and suddenly its about two men doing the monster mash

[kxsagi]

hihihi!! ive been thinking abt this cus like rin loves horror, yk like how he watches horror movies and plays horror games. i also love horror and js wanna cuddle up with him and play horror games 💔💔

“𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬”

a/n: watching caseoh play horror games has been my new obsession

(dk art credits so sorry)

the faint glow of the TV flickered across the dimly lit room, illuminating rin’s sharp features with every flashing jumpscare. the opening screen of outlast loomed ominously, the static-filled background humming through the speakers. the only other source of light came from the scattered candles you insisted on lighting, claiming it made the atmosphere “cooler,” though rin accused you of trying too hard. 

the two of you sat on the floor, backs resting against the couch with a mountain of blankets draped over your legs. your arms were looped around rin’s torso, cheek smushed against his chest. the warmth of his body made you drowsy, but you fought off the urge to sleep. there were monsters to fight. 

“we should’ve played phasmophobia,” you mumbled sleepily. “the ghosts are funny.” 

“funny?” rin repeated flatly, flicking your forehead lightly. “the ghosts hunt you down and you think it’s funny.” 

“well, you think the monster design in outlast is ‘cool.’ you’re the weird one here,” you teased, poking his side. 

rin scoffed softly, but you could feel the corner of his mouth twitch upward. his fingers lazily rubbed circles along your lower back as he played, one hand comfortably holding the controller while the other was dedicated to absentmindedly keeping you close. it was a bit unfair, honestly. he was still making flawless plays with only one hand, while you, on the rare occasion he handed you the controller, would be fumbling like a newborn deer. 

“oh, shit.” you jolted slightly as a mutilated creature lunged from the shadows, dragging rin’s character into the depths of a dim hallway. he barely flinched. unfazed. meanwhile, you gripped his hoodie like you were holding on for dear life. 

“you scared?” he muttered, a teasing lilt in his otherwise calm voice. 

“no,” you mumbled into his chest. your face was practically buried in the fabric, but you still snuck a peek at the screen. just a little scared. 

rin chuckled softly – so soft, you barely caught it. he dipped his head slightly, resting his chin against your temple. “liar,” he muttered against your skin. his voice was so low and quiet, you nearly missed it over the sound of distant, distorted screams from the game. 

despite the horrifying ambiance filling the room, you found yourself growing more and more relaxed, lulled by the steady rhythm of rin’s breathing and the warmth of his arms. you clung a little tighter when another sudden screech echoed from the TV. 

“mmm, i think i should take over,” you hummed, already reaching for the controller in his hand. 

he snorted. “you? you couldn’t even make it past the tutorial.” 

“wow. you’re so mean to me,” you deadpanned, leaning back slightly to give him an offended glare. 

his eyes shifted lazily toward you, half-lidded and relaxed, the blue-green of his irises glimmering faintly in the dim candlelight. he blinked slowly, looking completely unfazed by your feigned betrayal. 

“go ahead,” he mumbled, smirking faintly as he handed over the controller. “let’s see how long you last.” 

you took it with a triumphant grin… which immediately faltered as you got chased down by the first enemy you encountered. your terrified shriek echoed through the apartment as you blindly mashed the buttons. left trigger? right bumper? square?! what the hell was the run button?! 

rin, who had been casually sipping his water, nearly choked from laughing. the rare sound of his genuine laughter filled the room – light, unrestrained, and so incredibly pretty. you would’ve called him out for it if you weren’t currently being brutally mauled to death by a monster. 

“why didn’t you run?” he asked, voice still thick with amusement. 

you pouted dramatically, dropping the controller and immediately turning around to face him. “because i don’t know the controls! you’re supposed to protect me!” you whined, crawling into his lap like you were seeking asylum. 

he grunted lightly at the sudden shift of weight, but his hands instinctively settled on your waist. “protect you from what?” he scoffed, though he let you cling to him with zero complaints. “it’s not real.” 

“yeah? well, you can’t prove that,” you grumbled, arms draped loosely around his neck. 

he rolled his eyes, but you caught the way his fingers started drawing faint circles along your spine again, absentminded and lazy. you leaned in a little closer, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. he smelled faintly of his body wash – a mix of cedarwood and citrus, clean and fresh – and despite the ongoing chaos of the game, you were on the verge of dozing off. 

“you’re falling asleep, aren’t you?” rin muttered against your hair. 

“nooo,” you lied with zero conviction. 

his hand pressed against the back of your head, keeping you nestled close. “then stay awake,” he mumbled, his voice dropping to a murmur. his lips were so close, you could feel them graze your temple as he spoke. “you wanted to play.” 

“mmm. i like this game better.” 

he hummed softly in response, a rare, nearly undetectable smile tugging at his lips. he pulled the blanket higher over the both of you, enveloping you in warmth. with one hand still on your back and the other expertly navigating the horror-filled corridors on screen, he let you doze in his arms, perfectly content with the weight of you pressed against him. 

the monsters could wait. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[dissociation-station123]

Fallen

First time writing a monster type fic!! I hope it is enjoyable! This was written specifically for a Monster Mash collaboration event created by @nanamiscocksleeve

Thank you so much for allowing me to participate!!! Appreciate all who read!!

Love and Deepspace:

SylusXFemReaderXZayne-With a monster twist revealed at the end! 😆

Warnings: Corruption; Oral; A small taste of sadistic Sylus;

~~

The sun was slowly disappearing, the remaining rays coating the area in front of you in a beautiful deep orange. A cool breeze caressed your skin. The leaves were now changing colors. A gorgeous scene. You sip on a hot cider, burning your tongue slightly. It should be relaxing but a heavy sigh escapes your lips instead.

“Rough day sweetie?” A voice interrupts your internal frustrations. You look up from where you sat on your porch. Your neighbor towers over you with a bottle of whiskey in hand. Those reddish eyes are always playful no matter the topic.

Behind him stood your dark haired neighbor, he looked at you from behind the other man’s shoulder emotionless. Yet his steady gaze always seemed to bore into your soul each time you met, judging you.

The two men moved next door about a year ago. When you first saw them together you had to do a double take. Their beauty was otherworldly. Both of them were tall and built like professional athletes. The contrasting hair caught your attention, one had deep black the other a striking white.

Like the rest of the neighborhood you figured they would keep to themselves. You weren’t nosey so after the initial peek you went about your day. You assumed they would never interact with you.

To your surprise a few days later both men showed up with welcome to the neighborhood gifts. Zayne, the dark haired man brought a delectable dessert and Sylus, now up close you could not look away from the reddish tint of his eyes, of course a nice whiskey.

You made a teasing remark about how you were the one who should be bearing offerings since they were new here. They both glanced at each other as if communicating telepathically.

After a few seconds Sylus gave you an easy going shrug and Zayne a stern glance while holding up the bag for you to take. You opened your door and allowed them entry. Since then they always came over on Fridays to chat and catch up.

After your mind reminisces about how you became close to the pair, you hold out your hand for the bottle and Sylus chuckles giving it to you. Zayne, always statuesque, frowns. You twist the cap and take a long sip straight from the bottle. The burn causes you to wince but once settled the warmth blankets you comfortingly.

“I never quite grasp how if you do well at your job you're rewarded with more work.” You mutter feeling the irritation of your day surface once again.

“Mind if we?” Sylus motions at the two other chairs on your porch and you shake your head. They each take their place beside you.

“It’s good that they recognize your talent. Doing your best is never a bad thing.” Zayne says softly, you lift up the bottle for him to take but he shakes his head. His eyebrows pull together in disgust. You shrug and take another sip.

“Please!! That’s bullshit. That company just cares about the bottom line. You should quit.” Sylus interrupts a scowl on his pretty face. “Loyalty is for suckers.”

You groan, taking yet another sip, this one longer than the last. “I know I could but I have a lot of vacation days.” You always do this. Talk yourself out of change and risk.

“You earned those. You're a diligent worker. And your colleagues respect you.” Zayne adds his calm demeanor strangely comforting tonight.

“The owners could give two shits about you. They would replace you in an instant. You need to think about yourself.” Sylus glares over at Zayne and you laugh. Both of their eyes widen at the sound.

“I appreciate you both for attempting to make me feel better. I’m a helpless people pleaser. We all know I’m not going to leave.” You sigh, leaning into the chair and pulling your legs up to hug against you.

Both men look at you with a sullen expression. “Don’t look at me like that; you two.” You grumble hating the pitiful sight. The tension in your shoulder causes you to wince. Sylus leans forward his beautiful face to close.

“You know I could ease that stress right out of you sweetie.” His voice was low and seductive. You wish you could say you have grown accustomed to his flirtatious way but that tone still sent a shiver down your spine like a spell. You stare up at him stunned but eventually shake yourself free and smack his arm. “What?! I meant a good massage. These hands are magic.”

You look at his large hands and again your mind wanders to not so innocent thoughts. Those long fingers were almost unbelievable, the lengths they could reach. “Y/N…” Sylus calls to you teasingly and you snap out of your trance. “What were you thinking about naughty thing?”

“N-nothing…” you look away glad that he could not read your thoughts. The liquor was not the only thing making your cheeks heat up. “Shut up.” You grumble and choose a safer place to stare. Zayne looks at you, worry written on his face.

“Are you feeling well?” Zayne asks, reaching up and touching your forehead. You slap his arm away in embarrassment. His innocent expressions were always so damn cute.

“I’m fine!” You say a bit too loudly. Sylus chuckles at your behavior, deeming you guilty. You groan and lean back too quickly, you grimace at the pain that shoots up your back. “Maybe I could use a massage.”

Sylus’s expression brightens a bit and you raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “Sweetie don’t you trust me?” You shake your head aggressively and he chuckles.

“Smart.” Zayne speaks out his tone flat. You laugh and look over amused to see no expression.

“You all want to go inside. These chairs don’t help my back one bit.” You complain and both men nod in agreement. Their large frames hang off awkwardly. “See if there is a movie or something.”

You stand and Sylus leads the way. Before you can cross the threshold Zayne grabs your shoulder lightly. You look over to him and concern is etched on his features. “Did you eat?” He pointedly looks down at the liquor bottle still in hand.

You smile at him. Though he is not as up front as Sylus could be; you knew he truly cared. His actions were always endearing. You pat his shoulder in return. “Yeah I promise.” He simply nods, gesturing for you to enter.

You all have found a mundane comedy to watch as you lounge with Sylus on the couch. Zayne in the recliner, he always kept you at a slight distance. Sylus on the other hand has no comprehension of personal space.

“Let me…” Sylus leaned down to whisper into your ear. You glare up at him, to tired and exhausted for his teasing at this point. “Don’t look at me like that sweetheart. I promised a massage. Let me deliver on that.”

You study, glancing up into those deep red eyes suspiciously. A fake pout decorates his lips but he is always persistent once he promises something. “Fine…” you grumble as he pulls you between his long legs as soon as you agree.

You tense up the moment his hands feel along your shoulder and down your back. “Relax… Just trying to assess what area needs the most attention.” He purrs and you shut your eyes to attempt to follow his instructions. “So much tension built up. You're a sorry case, love.”

You laugh as he chuckles along with you. “Would you say it’s pointless then?” You ask as his thumbs rest gently at your shoulder blades. You brace yourself for the pressure but he clicks his tongue at you as he softly pushes down and up.

“Never pointless.” He reassures you as you melt into his moderate ministrations, kneading upward to your neck. You let out the breath you were holding. “Good… finally relaxing.” Sylus cooes and you feel a lazy smile form.

He works out the knots with ease, you're practically putty now. his fingers glide along your spine as he continues to praise you. You try your best not to make a sound but the longer he kneaded and caressed the more difficult it became. You curse how touch starved you had become.

Sylus applies a strong amount of pressure onto the side of your hip and you gasp out loud. Your hands reach out to grab his thigh and his mocking laughter follows your reaction. “That was such a cute sound. Give me more…” His tone turns seductive and you swallow heavily.

His large arms encase you as his hands run along your stomach playfully. His fingers slide upward tentatively. “Sylus…” Your tongue felt heavy, your eyes drooping closed, and your mind hazy as you attempted to protest. He does pause from moving any further. A part of you so tempted to give in.

“There is no judgment from me, treasure. Just say yes and I’ll make you feel so good.” His voice was a lullaby, enticing and temptation personified. His touch felt amazing and it had been so long. You find yourself nodding and yet he does not move. “I have to hear you say it sweetie.”

“Yes Sylus! Please!” You whine and he makes a deep sound from his throat at your declaration. His large hands quickly slide under your bra, his thumb running along your already hardened nipples. You moan your head falling back against his chest. He hums pleased with your response. Pinching the buds to elicit another cry from your lips.

You want to bury your head in shame but you were unable to think. You make a pathetic sound when you feel him lean down to kiss along your neck. His tongue makes lazy circles on a patch of sensitive flesh. “I love how reactive you are being. It's been a while, hasn't it, love?” You nod, crying out for him. “Poor thing.”

His left hand kneads your breast as the other moves down your stomach again. Lower until his fingers slide under the waistband of your sweat pants. You whine lifting your hips for easier access. You grumble as he takes his time. You are too enraptured by the pleasure that you pull off your bottoms for him and he chuckles amused. “Please!” You beg looking up through lidded eyes and gulp at how his eyes have darkened with lust.

Your eyes remain locked onto his as his fingers slide lower, finally rubbing along your already wet folds. Your moan echoes across the room. “Do you not have any shame?” Stylus’s tone becomes a bit sinister as your eyebrows knit in confusion. He slowly inserts his middle finger into your cunt and your back arches.

“F-fuck…” you curse still a bit confused by his words. Your body begins to move against his hands slow and steady thrusts, longing for a sweet release. Sylus grins down at you, the hand that was stimulating your breast moves to take hold of your chin.

“Did you forget sweetie,” his thumb slides across your lower lip. “We aren’t alone.” Your eyes widen as he pulls your chin to look across the room. Your clouded mind had forgotten that Zayne sat across from you. Your heart races in panic and you squirm in Sylus’s hold.

As your vision adjusts you meet Zayne’s golden eyes. “Y/N…” He calls your name, it sounds almost painful and you cringe at the disappointment it holds. Yet there was something else there, was it longing? His perfect jaw was clenched tightly.

Sylus laughs, cruely at the situation, your arousal loud as he removes his finger from your hole and slides up to rub your aching clit. Your legs shake and you try to close them but Sylus chastises you. “It’s a bit too late for that. Let him see you fall apart for me. Look closer Y/N he is trying to hold himself back. What a good little Angel.”

You notices Zayne’s hands were wrapped around the arms of the chair, the wood creaking from the pressure. His whole body froze as his breath came out in short gasps. “Y/N…” he calls out your name again this time it was a whimper. “Why?” Sylus parts your lower lips, slick with your juices, giving him a full view. You watch Zayne’s breath hitch.

“You want to taste her, Zayne? Come on see what earthly pleasures feel like on your tongue.” Sylus collects your essence on his finger and sucks it off greedily, a groan escaping. You bit your lower lip enticed by the lewd scene before you. You look back at Zayne, a shiver travels down his body.

“It’s ok…” you surprise yourself when you invite him to join. You lift up your hand to beckon him towards you.

“You do not know what you are doing….” Zayne’s usual calm demeanor has been completely shaken. His voice low and strained as he tries not to move. “What will happen…”

Sylus pulls your shirt above your head and unclasps your bra in a quick motion. You're in his lap bared completely. Sylus roughly takes hold of your thighs and pulls them wider apart. You cry out desperate to be touched again. “Are you going to allow her to suffer?” He addresses Zayne in a dark tone. Zayne’s eyes widen at the sight of all of you. You hear him mutter what sounded like a prayer but your mind was overwhelmed by need.

“Zayne…” You whimper his name and he falls to his knees with a startled cry. “Help…” you call out and he crawls closer. His breath tickles your skin as he now hovers near your outstretched legs. Zayne, as if frightened of your body, slowly slides a finger down your inner knee. You moan at his featherlight touch in contrast to Sylus’s rough grasp on your thighs.

You look at Zayne, your lashes fluttering. With shaky arms you place your hand on his cheek and he leans into your grasp. “You can if you want.” You say comfortingly and you are confused when he curses you so sweetly.

“She is your new master. Worship and praise her.” Sylus says his voice is more of a growl and distorted. Zayne does not look away from but you see some type of inner struggle taking place within him.

“B-Blasphemy…” Zayne mutters weakly as your thumb softly caresses his lower lip. You feel his body tremble and a tear glisten at the corner of his eyes, you swipe it away. “S-Sacrilege…” He takes in every curve of your body with his icy stare.

“Zayne you don’t have…” Before you could tell him it was alright If he did not want to; his lips hungrily began kissing your inner thigh. You keen loudly and whisper Zayne’s name in praise. Sylus laughs sinisterly behind you.

Zayne is now possessed by the taste of your skin. His tongue lolled out sliding down closer. He pauses right next to your needy pussy, admiring the clear slimy liquid oozing out. “Please…” you beg him and he groans at the sound. No longer hesitating he shoves his mouth into your folds, caressing each dip and crease with his tongue. It was messy and you could tell he was not sure what to do but his vigor and desperate whines made up for the inexperience.

“You taste so good…” he cries out against you, he looks up, his face coated. “Divine…” he rambles still fumbling as he sucks greedily. Sylus nibbles at your ear still snickering at the sight of the man between your legs. He finally releases the hold he has on you. He moves back to pinch at your nipple, a sharp pain causes your body to jolt.

His other hand moves between your legs. Slylus’s thumb tracing your clit as Zayne loses himself, sloppy kisses with no accuracy, slurping wet sounds. With all the stimulation your mind begins to lose focus. You gasp when Sylus roughly and suddenly pulls Zayne’s head back by his hair. Zayne groans in frustration, snarling at Sylus.

“Focus! Stop being so selfish.” Sylus chastises Zayne’s feverish movements. “Suck here and watch how she reacts.” He lets go of Zayne and again his fingers tap against your clit, you whine.

Zayne watches your body shake and then nods in understanding. He wraps his lips around the small nub and sucks. You convulse and scream out, your body overreacting due to being edged. Zayne’s eyes widen at your violent response. His tongue is now sliding against the sensitive bundle of nerves, hoping to coax more from you.

“That’s it…” Sylus says as his fingers slide under his chin, lower until they probe your entrance. You no longer comprehend the sounds that escape your lips as he pushes them deeper past the ring of muscle. Zayne moans as he hears you blabbering, increasing his assault. “Good…” you reach out and your fingers entangle into Zayne’s hair as you buck up to meet Sylus’s finger as he adds another.

“You both are so adorable.” Sylus says condescendingly but you hear the rasp in his voice, dripping in pure desire. Your entire body is now tensing up, you were close. Your vision spots and back arches in an awkward angle as you ride against both Zayne’s mouth and Sylus’s expert fingers.

The moment Zayne moans and the vibration shoots up your spine, Sylus curves his finger stroking your spot viciously. You had never felt this before, it was almost too much. You no longer had control as you screamed both their names at the top of your lungs. Your cunt gripping his digits and releasing over and over milking them desperately, your head flys back, ears ringing, as the otherworldly orgasm crashes over you.

You try to breathe to maintain your thoughts after the shock. You feel Sylus slowly remove his fingers but Zayne is still making out with your clit, you whine and attempt to push him away, overstimulated. Your eyes finally adjust, before you could scold Zayne, you cover your mouth at the glorious vision that greets you.

Sprouting from Zayne’s back were massive white wings, majestic and awe inspiring. “What.. mmm Zayne please…” He still lapped you up groaning at the flavor of your cum. As he humps the couch cravenly, you gasp as the feathers begin shifting from the stark white to a deep charcoal.

You are startled by Sylus’s voice in your ear. You watch as he strokes Zayne’s now changed wings, Zayne whimpers as his fingers dance across. “I came for your soul but instead your essence made an ally from my greatest enemy. He has finally fallen from grace.”

You turn to question Sylus and you are frozen in place by his appearance. He wore his usual cocky mischievous grin, his canines protruded into actual fangs. Tall horns decorated his head, a deep shade of brown contrasting his white hair, large spirals. His already large frame seemed to have doubled in size. You flinch as a tail wraps around your thigh. “You are something special. I’ll make you mine like you made him yours.”

[void-wolfie]

Carving Commotion

summary: You go over to Jenna's for some halloween fun

pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader

tw: none really? light mention of knives for pumpkin carving but thats it (if i'm missing something let me know so i can fix/add)

words: 1.09k

a/n: Happy Halloween guys! i did this at the last minute if i'm honest. only did light editing and proofing so there might be some mistakes lol.

You pushed the doorbell in with your elbow, hearing the familiar sound echoing from within the house. You barely even had to wait thirty seconds before the door shot open, your girlfriend standing on the other side with a blinding smile.

You noticed her eyes excitedly jump down to the two pumpkins in your arms, her smile growing wider if that was even possible.

"What're you staring at, Ortega? My eyes are up here," You joked, smirking at your girlfriend's exasperated expression.

"You're late," if she rolled her eyes any harder, they would've rolled right out of her head, "just, get in here already."

Despite the jokes, both of you truly did love Halloween, it was one of the best times of the year. The two of you planned to spend the whole night together carving pumpkins and watching scary movies.

As you walked through the house you noticed all the decorations set up. Fake cobwebs adorned with plastic spiders hung in the hallway, fake bats hung from the living room fan, caution tape littered doorways, and The Monster Mash played quietly in the background. She really does go all out for Halloween, you thought to yourself.

Jenna helped you put the pumpkins down on the kitchen counter. She grabbed out the soap and a scrubby brush and told you to clean off the pumpkins in the sink, which you happily obliged.

You got lost in thought while cleaning off the pumpkins. You were excited, you couldn't stop thinking about what to carve. Should it be something elaborate and scary? Or maybe something simple and cute? Maybe a mix of both? It was your first Halloween with Jenna after all, and you didn't want to scare her off with your excitement.

By the time both pumpkins were done and washed, you turned back around to find the kitchen table covered in trash bags and Jenna setting the table with a handful of carving knives.

"Carving pumpkins isn't just some elaborate excuse to murder me, right?" You joked. Once again you saw her eyes roll, but the smile on her face told you she was far from annoyed.

"I could never kill you, you're too cute for that," She looked over at you and winked. The gesture alone made your knees wobbly and your stomach twist into knots.

Jenna refused to show you what she was carving into her pumpkin. You could see her eagerly getting into her drawing, her eyebrows furrowing in the cutest way while her Sharpie moved wildly in front of her. It’s a surprise, she insisted.

You decided that if Jenna could get so excited and into her pumpkin carving, so could you. You drew up the best pumpkin face you could think of, sharp gnarly teeth, and slanted eyes. The design wasn’t as good as you normally drew, but you chalked it up to the cute brunette across the table distracting you.

Once you had decided the design was good enough, you picked out a knife and started cutting away. You started with some of the bigger details, watching as the big knife cut through the pumpkin like butter.

It felt like forever, carving out little bits at a time, and you were covered in pumpkin guts up to your elbows. But finally, you were finished!

“Done!” You shouted, setting the knife down and jumping up from your seat. You looked over at Jenna to see her giggling at you, but you didn’t mind, you liked the sound of her laugh.

“Can I see yours now?” You asked, excited to finally see what the surprise was.

“Sure, love,” She smiled, getting up from her chair to turn her pumpkin around so you could see it, “I finished a few minutes ago anyway.”

She spun the pumpkin around to show a more traditional-looking jack o’ lantern. It had big triangle eyes and a toothy grin. Even though it wasn’t scary it still seemed much better than yours. Somehow hers looked perfect, and yours looked terrible.

“Wow…” you hadn’t even realized you said it till Jenna's face lit up, her smile growing brighter than the full moon on a cloudless night. You’d say it a million more times too if it got her to smile like that again.

“Come on baby, let me see yours,”

You spun your pumpkin around, albeit a bit reluctantly. Hers was so much better than yours, she was going to laugh at you for sure. Yours was a bit more on the scary side, pointy teeth with sharp fangs and hooded eyes, though it wasn’t very good.

You waited for the laughing, but it never came. Instead, she looked impressed… like really impressed. “Baby, that’s amazing, I love it,”

You were shocked. She had to be lying, right?

“Really?”

“Yeah baby, it's perfect.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to hide the smile that crept up on your, “I mean, it’s alright, but it’s nowhere near as good as yours.”

She could tell you were joking around, but she decided to play along. She gasped, feigning shock, “What? Yours is like twice as good as mine,”

“Oh, well now I know you’re lying to me,” You joked, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

“What? I would never!”

“Liar!” You all but shouted it, faking an upset look. You crossed your arms and looked over your shoulder pretending to pout.

It was silent for a second. Then something slammed into your chest, smacking back down on the table.

You looked at your chest, then the table… She had thrown a handful of pumpkin guts at you.

“Why you little-” You grabbed the lump she had thrown at you and tossed it back with a smirk. She ducked at the last second and the pile landed with a wet splat against the wall.

You saw her laugh, then she started reaching for the bowl of guts in the middle of the table.

“Oh no you don’t,” You reached as fast as you could, both you and Jenna grabbed the bowl at the same time.

Fifteen minutes later, you were both covered head to toe in pumpkin guts. It covered the walls, the floor, and the table. Some made it as far as the living room, but most of it clung to you and Jenna. It was agreed that you’d both have to shower and clean up before any movies could be watched. But despite the mess, and the feeling of pumpkin strings down the back of your shirt, you already knew this was your favorite Halloween yet.

[nica-my-beloved]

Congratulations to Roger for his release! Here's a small story from me!🥳🥳

Genre: Short story, fluff, comedy

Characters appearing: Roger, Jude, Ellis, Liam, William, maid (NPC)

Roger's POV

It was midnight by the time I entered the Crown Castle. The surroundings were shrouded in darkness leaving no voices to be heard.

Only the cold breeze of the night caresses my face, cooling down my exhaustion.

(Today was really tough)

Click-clack sounds of my shoes echoed through the Castle as I walk, wiping my sweat dripping from my forehead and the doctor's coat I carry in my arms. I was coming back home after a busy day and working overtime at my father's clinic.

As soon as I entered the dining room for some water, I noticed one of the maids coming out with a tray and a smile. The enchanting aroma straight away touches my nose leading my stomach to grumble loudly.

(Oops...that was embarrassing. At least the maids here are deaf)

Feeling invited, when I sat down, the maid placed the tray in front of me and I get a full view of what's on it. The plate had a big piece of buttery steak on the center, with a crispy and juicy looking texture while the butter sizzles on top of it. Creamy mashed potatoes sprinkled with garlic and herbs on the side accompanied with a lustrous looking baked asparagus and lemon zest. The waves of heat and aroma of the fresh and delicious food made my stomach rumble again and again. It's as if the monster in my stomach is reading it's knife and fork to devour everything on the plate.

(Thank you)

I smiled and thanked the maid using sign language. She nodded briefly and leaves. I looked back at the food again and hastily picked up my knife and fork.

(Haa...the smell so great)

It's as if the rich aroma of the food relieved my exhaustion by 50%. I poked my fork on the juicy-looking steak, and slid my knife through it, cutting it swiftly. Eagerly and in anticipation, I closed eyes while bringing the tender steak towards my mouth-----

"Hey quack. Fix me up!" A demanding voice of Jude interrupts me.

"Sorry Roger, can you help me? I got shot on my leg." A sad voice of Ellis followed behind as if he was checking whether I'm unhappy or not.

"Hahaha...sorry Roger. I feel like my arm is going to dislocate. Can you save me?" A cheerful voice of Liam covered in fresh blood and holding his arm enters the room following Ellis.

But wait, it's not over yet....

"Roger, can you revive this guy? Apparently he died of heart attack at the sight of me before I could condemn him for his sins. Can you bring him back to life so that I could cut his head off?" William enters while dragging a body of dead man with a face of anguish.

"Haaa..." I let out an annoyed sigh as I placed down my fork leaving the untouched piece of meat stuck to it.

(Seriously...when do I actually get to rest?)

As soon as I got up in annoyance, the same maid who served me the steak, came rushing back in.

(Can you please take this away? I have work)

The maid giggles and nods before leaving me message in sign language.

'Call me after you finish your work. I can reheat it for you.'

(At the very least I'm glad that Victor told the maid to cook something for me when I come back to the Castle)

I let out a throat chuckle thinking about his daddy behavior waiting to be praised the next morning.

"Now you guys. In straight line, follow me." I said as I started walking towards my lab. I could hear their obedient footsteps but their voices are----

"I came first, so I should stand first in the line." Claimed Jude.

"I and Kate are going on a picnic tomorrow, so I should rest early. Sorry Jude, I know you're sad but please, just this one time, can you let me get treated first?" Ellis asks in a sad tone with a sad face.

"Picnic? Can I come too? Can I also bring Harry?" Liam asks while holding onto his falling arm.

"Yes. I'm sure this will make Kate happy too." Ellis nods.

"All of you will get treated as it's my job. I'm gonna wrap you all up tight you so you guys won't be moving for the next few days. No picnics, no partying and no killing. That's what you get for interrupting my dinner!" I roared while stomping my way down the lab stairs.

This story is inspired from my parents telling me how annoying it was for them to have their lunch while looking after the store. Every time they open their lunch box to eat, a customer would come in that exact minute to ask for something and they'd have to close their lunch box and attend to the customer. It's annoying because no customers would come to the store when it's not their break time. This leads them to not eating their lunch or eat their lunch cold.

I took this same idea and used Roger because I realised how hectic it is for him while working as the Crown's doctor. I saw a glimpse of it in the current running wedding event. So I made it into a comedy!

[ladylilithprime]

Day 13: Monster Mash

(Takes place in the same universe as Day 9.)

IT SOUNDED LIKE the start of a bad joke. "An angel, a werewolf and a hunter walked into a bar...." Dean wasn't quite sure what the punchline was supposed to be, but the set-up was right there, and if Sammy wasn't so damn tense as to be practically vibrating he might've said it out loud just to get his brother to relax a little. Dean wasn't putting any money on the angel being the type to get jokes; the guy looked more like a holy tax accountant than a heavenly warrior now that he wasn't practically blenderizing his way through a crowd of demons with that funky silver blade of his.

"I think this conversation is going to require some whiskey," Dean said instead. "Sammy?"

"Tequila bottle," his brother muttered, not looking up at all. Dean controlled a wince; time was Sam had been enough of a lightweight that a double shot of tequila would put him on the floor. These days that's what it took to get him even mildly buzzed, and the fact that he wanted the whole bottle said a lot about where the kid's head was at right now.

"Aaaand how 'bout you?" he asked the angel, who was looking around the interior of the bar with a detached sort of curiosity. When he realized that Dean was speaking to him, he tilted his head in confusion.

"I do not require food or a beverage," he said, which made Dean want to roll his eyes. After a moment's consideration, he did.

"You may not," he said as patiently as he could manage, "but Sammy says your meatsuit is still alive in there, and living humans do require food and drink, even just for comfort purposes when they're stressed out. So what does he want?"

"Fascinating," Castiel murmured, studying Dean with just enough intensity to make him want to squirm. After a moment, the angel continued, "Jimmy requests a dark stout if they have it and a 'Bloody Mary' if not. I assume he does not mean the spectral huntress."

"It's a drink made with vodka and spicy tomato juice," Sam spoke up, surprising Dean a bit. He'd thought Sam was going to be practically mute until at least the third shot. "No relation to the ghost class beyond the name."

"I see," Castiel hummed, switching that penetrating stare to Sam, who still wasn't looking at him at all. "Jimmy also wishes me to pass along his gratitude for your consideration of his presence."

"He's here and aware, so he's part of the equation," Dean said when it became obvious that Sam wasn't going to say anything. "Anyway, can y'all grab us a table while I grab the drinks?"

The question was more for Castiel's benefit. Sam was already moving towards one of the empty tables with a purpose, bypassing two others on his way. Dean caught the subtle flare of his brother's nostrils as he put his nose to work, his wolf side much closer to the surface with the full moon so recently passed, and decided that he probably didn't want to know what Sam was smelling on those tables to make him walk by.

Castiel was also watching Sam, and his expression was one Dean had trouble reading. "Will your brother feel safe with me at the table while you are not?"

"That's something to ask him, not me," Dean shook his head and turned away to head for the bar. It wasn't like he had an answer, either. Normally he'd say there wasn't anything his Sammy had to fear from anyone or anything, not with the wards on his pendant and the extra tattoos he and Dean had both gotten after meeting Loki in Ohio. Angels, Castiel in particular, were proving to be a whole other ballgame, and Dean just hoped they weren't gonna be a problem like the demons.

The bar did have a decent dark stout available, but Dean went ahead and ordered the Bloody Mary along with it as well as his whiskey and the tequila bottle. He ordered a couple cans of coke as well in case Sam managed to relax enough that the flavor got to him enough to want a mixer, and a double order of bacon cheese fries for good measure, and then took the little flag the bartender gave him and joined his brother and the angel at the table. Sam shot him a bitchface as he sat down, one of the newer ones that piggybacked off of "I know what you're up to" with an added "I can still hear your heartbeat from across the room, I know what you said", but he didn't verbally call Dean on it.

"I texted Henrickson," he said instead, making Dean's eyebrows go up. "Gave him the rundown on the situation and Jimmy Novak. He texted back to let me know that he'll check in on Jimmy's wife and daughter and feed them an easy to swallow story about an ongoing investigation that Jimmy got caught up in to explain his absence without worrying them further."

Well, damn. No wonder Sam had been so tight-lipped and standoffish with the guy. Stanford had given Sam the distance and therapist appointments he had needed to come to terms with the way he and Dean had been raised and make peace within himself over that and his wolfy nature, but it sure hadn't made him any more tolerant of deadbeat dads running out on the family that needed them, even with the excuse of helping save the world. It was one of the things Sam had quietly confessed to Dean as they had stood by the pyre watching John Winchester's body burn, and Dean couldn't even fault him for it, not with John's final words about saving Sam or killing him ringing in both their ears despite the words only being meant for Dean to hear.

"Good thinking, Sammy," Dean said out loud, nudging his brother's foot under the table. "Less stress on everybody once Cas here's done slumming it with us and can let the man go home again."

To his credit, Castiel appeared to realize that both Winchesters were now unhappy with him, though he didn't quite seem to grasp why. "Earth and humanity are my Father's finest creations. It is not 'slumming it' to be here rather than in Heaven."

"Great way to show your respect for those creations, dragging a man away from his family and overturning his life," Dean drawled when Sam just pressed his lips together. "What else do we know that does that, huh?"

Now Castiel was frowning at him. "Angels are limited in the vessels we can inhabit, Dean," he said severely. "We require consent from those we take to even do so, and we cannot inhabit the truly unwilling."

"So why not go for a coma patient or a fresh corpse?" Dean asked, scowling right back. "Even the demons can manage that!"

"Or maybe a priest or nun?" Sam asked quietly. "If you require a body with a soul still in residence for a vessel, why not someone who has already dedicated their bodies and lives to your Father?"

"We are also limited by the strength of certain bloodlines best suited to hosting an angel," Castiel answered, at least having the grace (heh) to look discomfited by the questions. "And then, there is the matter of how many members of the clergy are... ill-suited to the calling of serving Heaven. For one reason or another."

Dean exchanged a speaking look with Sam. "I'd say that's surprising, but..."

"We already knew Spotlight's exposé was just the tip of the iceberg," Sam finished, giving Dean the hand signal for "someone approaching". "Hazards of a haphazardly organized and aggressively egotistical religious doctrine."

Castiel was giving Sam that intent look again, the one that made Dean feel like he was trying to see inside his target's head. Dean hated having that look directed at him, and he liked it even less seeing that scrutiny aimed at Sammy.

"You were once a man of great faith in my Father," Castiel said softly, making both Sam and Dean tense. "Even after leaving your family, you continued to pray for their safety. You even prayed for the soul of the priest whose ghost you were required to deal with. And then you stopped, and no one could determine why."

"That one's my fault," said a familiar voice as a tray of drinks was set down on the edge of the table. "I told him no one up there was listening since, last I knew, you lot tend to ignore any prayers coming from the nonhuman crowd and barely gave any attention to human prayers as it was. This a private party, or is there room for one more?"

"Always room for you, milord," Dean drawled, nudging the free chair at their table out with his foot and giving the god a cheeky grin. "If I'd known you were coming, I'd'a ordered something for you, too."

"I'm covered, thanks," Loki said with an answering smirk as he spun the chair around to sit in it backwards and picked up the fizzy pink drink with what looked like six or seven maraschino cherries floating in it. Then he frowned and looked across the table at Sam. "You okay there, kiddo?"

"No injuries I couldn't heal myself," Sam sighed, which was about what Dean had expected him to say and a lot less worryingly misleading than his usual "I'm fine" would have been. "The demons still haven't figured out I'm not the man they expect me to be, and I'm starting to think the angels are similarly uninformed."

"You are way too much of a good boy for what the demons want you for," Loki agreed with an eyebrow waggle. He looked over at Castiel, eyebrows raised. "So... Castiel, was it? Is my favorite hunter right that the folks upstairs don't know about Sam's species reassignment?"

"You... how..." Castiel stammered, staring at Loki with very wide eyes. Damn, the angel hadn't even looked that freaked out when facing down the demons. Dean shot a look at Sam, but his brother was watching the two divine beings with a narrow, thoughtful look that was almost more alarming than the angel being freaked out.

"Thought I was your favorite," Dean joked to try and cover the awkward, giving himself a mental shake and setting to work distributing the drinks Loki had brought over.

"You're my favorite human," Loki conceded magnanimously, even as he kept his eyes on the angel. "Sam's my favorite hunter, though. And Castiel... used to be one of my favorite little brothers before I did a runner and got myself adopted by the Asgardians."

"Gabriel," Castiel whispered, and metaphorically blew Dean's mind.

"Gabriel," he repeated blankly, staring. "The Archangel."

"Guilty," the pagan god who was apparently actually an Archangel in hiding said, taking a sip of his Shirley Temple.

Dean shot a quick look at Sam, only to be brought up short by the complete lack of surprise on his brother's face. "Wait, you knew?"

"Guessed," Sam admitted with a shrug. "I figured he had to have some kind of firsthand insider information to talk about Heaven and angels to us with such assurance back in Ohio, but it wasn't that important at the time so I didn't put it together fully until tonight. He has the same petrichor scent around him that Castiel has, even under the candyfloss and hickory smoke scents, and 'runaway angel' makes as good an explanation as any."

"Figured me out just from that super sniffer, eh?" Lo-- Ga-- their patron said, eyebrows going up.

"The Archangel bit was a surprise," Sam said with a side to side waggle of his hand. "Which Archangel, though? Nah. 'Just desserts' isn't that far off from 'justice and mercy', which is what the lore says is your purview in conjunction with the whole Messenger of Heaven gig."

"Killing rapists and murderers and serving assholes a taste of their own bullshit fits with being the Messenger of Heaven?" Dean couldn't help but ask skeptically. He had no reason to doubt Sam - the kid was the better lore expert between them - but he was still trying to wrap his brain around the reality of angels versus the fluffy cloud-sitters playing harps and shit Pastor Jim had talked about. The look Sam shot him said he could guess what Dean was thinking, but he just shrugged and poured himself a glass of tequila.

"Sometimes Heaven's message isn't nice," he said, and threw back the whole glass in two long gulps as easily as if drinking water.

Dean shot a glance at... fuck it, he was calling the god Loki until directed otherwise. Loki was watching Sam with an admiring little smile that still managed to look sad, and Dean remembered how careful and gentle the god had been when laying down the devastating truth about a werewolf's chances of ever going to Heaven after dying. It was one of those things that had Dean seriously considering asking Sam to turn him, too, so they wouldn't be separated, and it was still in the back of his mind as an option even with them having pledged themselves to Loki.

Movement had him shifting his attention to Castiel, who had picked up the bottle of stout and was practically chugging it with a similar lack of reaction as Sam. Dean had to wonder if the angel was even tasting it, or if Jimmy was the one tasting it, or if it even mattered with the way they were sharing headspace. When the bottle was set down again and the angel reached for the Bloody Mary, Dean almost worried he was going to throw it back the same way. Instead, there was a very distinct shift in posture and expression and then Jimmy was the one lifting the glass and taking a long drink through the straw.

"Castiel's still processing," the man said when he had swallowed the drink. "I get the feeling he's even less used to questioning the authority and will of Heaven than I am, so this is kinda throwing him for a loop."

"Kinda the opposite, actually," Loki sighed. "Cassie was one of my favorite brothers because he was always questioning things. Him having a hard time now probably means he was sent for 'reeducation' a few too many times by Herr Michael in the time since I left. He hates it when any of the rank and file question orders."

"He's hoping you'll be willing to take him into your direct service," Jimmy said, after a moment of very odd facial expressions. "I'm just gonna assume you know what that means, and what he means by vessel alternatives since he and I agree that I should absolutely get back to my family."

"Oh, yeah, no problem," Loki said, waving a hand negligently.

The air thickened and twisted and then suddenly there was a second Jimmy... no, wait, that wide-eyed, shellshocked expression on the second Jimmy practically screamed "overwhelmed angel" to Dean's inexperienced eye. Sam apparently thought so, too, because he poured a second glass of his tequila and slid it across the table to nudge Castiel's hand. The angel fumbled a little with picking up the glass, but then lifted it to his lips and gulped down the contents. He coughed, blinking, then shook himself.

"That is very different from drinking from within a vessel," he rasped.

"So I guess I'll be telling Amelia that the FBI case was about me being mistaken for my previously unknown twin brother," Jimmy said, eyeing Castiel with something between concern and dismay. "That is... kinda freaky, actually."

"Doesn't have to be," Loki said with a shrug. "I made the body look like you for simplicity's sake, but once Cassie gets settled into it and familiarized with the controls, he can change it up to look however he wants."

"This does present the problem of how I am to deliver my report on my findings," Castiel spoke up, his body giving an involuntary shudder. "I cannot return to Heaven like this without being immediately sent to Naomi. Nor do I wish to return, but I fear who they might send to investigate when I don't."

"Well, there's an easy enough option there," Loki drawled, looking at... Dean.

"Come again?" Dean asked, frowning in confusion. What did he have to do with anything?

"Directed human prayer gets through to anyone," Loki explained. "Normally I wouldn't suggest you pray to any of those douchebags, like, ever, because they're no fun and don't appreciate your respectful irreverence like I do, but since you and James here are the only humans at this table...."

"Great," Dean sighed. "Okay, fine. Who'm I passing the message to?"

"Might as well try Michael directly," Loki said thoughtfully. "Just tell him about Sam's species change, that Cassie's handing in his resignation and off limits to Heaven, and that I say he can take his early Apocalypse plans and shove 'em up his noncorporeal ass."

"Early what now?!"

[imaginatorofthings]

Skeletá Thoughts

I am unwell over this album.

I haven't felt this excited over an album release since "Nurture" by Porter Robinson (that was in 2021! Wow!!)

For context, I'm very new to Ghost and I've listened to a few songs so far (putting in a list for organization)

Year Zero (mashes well with Funkytown!)

Square Hammer (the organ in the beginning! It's so catchy!)

Rats (THEM RATS WOAH-OH-OH!)

Respite on the Spitalfields (the guitar solo at 2 minutes in!!! I love love love it okay? Nothing ever lasts forever / We will go softly into the night <- okay what if you killed me right here IT'S SO GOOD AUGH)

Phantom Of The Opera (IT'S SO GOOD, THE GUITAR AND DRUMS AND FAST LYRICS)

Cirice (a great near minute of instrumental before the vocals kick in)

Dance Macabre (I should listen to this a bit more to get a proper opinion on it)

Mary On A Cross (against all odds, it's very catchy)

Kiss The Go-Goat (mwah!)

Majesty (just listened to it today, so I need a bit to digest it)

Call Me Little Sunshine (it's gritty and gesturing for you to follow it)

And a few that I'm probably forgetting right now. But I'm really really loving this so far!

Thoughts on Skeleta below the cut! No rating because these are my rambles. Lyrics were pulled up while listening.

TLDR: It's all good (to me)! 80s sounding with some twists and turns! It's great.

Peacefield

The CHOIR OPENING. I ascended about there. Deities, I'm just...

THEN I GET HIT BY JOURNEY'S "SEPARATE WAYS" /POS

We all need something to believe in Until it's over, anything, anyone, anytime But it's not over yet

I died here---

Your love, bright as the starlight Oh, child, still we can see A black moon, over the peacefield Oh, child, stay close to me

And was promptly resurrected around here.

I'm already bopping my head to this and it's very 80s!

Lachryma

Gentle organ with reverb, then TA-TAK-TAK with the drums and guitars!

Ah yes, the song where I pressed the video to see what people were going feral over. I get it after some research (face prosthetics + face paint? Oh dear, no wonder the lead singer made a few changes).

It feels like a pop song with a good guitar solo! The costuming is very good and I love the video overall. It's a nice vibe. I'd sing this.

Satanized

I can hear that bass and I love Ghost for that. Bass my beloved.

I may call this "Sanitized" as a joke...

The call-and-response is strong here with "Blasphemy, heresy / Save me from the monster that is eating me". I imagine that this is a crowd-pleaser during rituals.

I admit I was mouthing the lyrics during my full album listen of this. Especially that chorus. And the video with the reveal! Pretty cool.

Guiding Lights

And here we enter unknown territory from the singles.

The piano surprised me! Sounds like something I'd make up when I make my tunes /pos

And the quiet, ballad-feeling feeling soothed me for the entire song.

That thе road that leads to nowhere is long And that those who seek to go there are lost The guiding lights (lights), they lead you on And the road that leads to nowhere is long

Peeps...if I listened to this on a bad day, I'd probably end up crying. Oh deities, this is good.

And it's just so good.

AND THE OUTRO, AUGH I COULD CRY

De Profundis Borealis

Again with the gentle piano, reminds me of "Change Your Mind" by Vancover Sleep Clinic and Said The Sky.

THEN THE ROCK KICKS IN AND SCARES ME SLIGHTLY

And the tempo with the guitars start picking up and I go "OH HELL YEAH" and this lil' grin goes on my face.

It's like waking up after being thawed for so long and trying to run after that sun to get warmed up again. You're tripping and watching the landscape through the edges of your vision, but you're still running, running, running!

And you reach that sunlight and warmth and now you're running not to chase it, but because you're alive.

Cenotaph

Lovely cymbals / hi-hat, and a ring-tone sounding jingle! Then that guitar kicks in!!

Very oldies feeling!

It feels like someone urging someone else to step out and relive through some old memories. Perhaps it's someone older with money and no time, indulging in their inner child who had so much time and no money. It's so giddy with how much it's making me happy. I can imagine spinning and dancing to this.

And that guitar is SILKY SMOOTH it's unbelievable how good that guitar is.

Let me drive into the sunset with this baring out of my speakers.

Missilia Amori

Gritty! It's so gritty.

inhales...This is a song to be a slut to. Go ahead, be badass to it. /pos

I also was not expecting those recorded groans. But hey! It gives the song some character. (A-spec speaking here)

Slutty vibes aside, it's a bit darker! It's a twisting of love, and I enjoy the narrative of it. Could definitely imagine someone hunting a person of affection down with this.

Marks of the Evil One

It didn't hit me until the 2nd verse that these were the 4 Horsemen of the Apocalypse (Good Omens, anyone?)

There! There! <- Perfect call-and-response for a crowd

It sounds like horses galloping. Then a pause when you think you're safe...AND WE KICK IT BACK UP AGAIN!

The way that the lead singer sang some of the words like "one" is so wobbly, I enjoy that.

And the fade-out before we can hear "fuckin' there! There!"? Kinda funny.

Umbra

The dark shadows. I love the intro to this, it feels like I was about to listen to some sci-fi opening. I was expecting a bit of breakcore for a moment.

COWBELL THERE WAS COWBELL I WAS GIGGLING (I know about cowbell ghoul somewhat)

It's gave me "forbidden worship in a place of worship". Kneel and pray to your subject of affection and love that with all you can.

AND THE GUITAR AND KEYBOARD SOLO BASICALLY DANCING AROUND EACH OTHER, it was so good and silly

Excelsis

Second quiet ballad-feeling song. I've heard from skimming Tumblr that this song was devastating to people, but it wasn't too bad for me personally? Everyone is different after all.

This is a quiet comfort to someone who's scared of dying. There is still time. There are second chances. There is still time.

It's okay. It'll be okay.

There's a bit of power on the bridge and guitar, breaking from the ballad-like feeling of the rest of the song, because this is a rock band.

And the outro?

This is the end of the avenue I am afraid of eternity, too

Why did that HIT

Eternity is scary, dying is scary. It's all scary.

But it'll be okay. There is still time.

Take my hand, and we'll stay for a bit longer.

[imtrashraccoon]

Hello amazing people! This one might be a bit of a stretch but oh well...

Thanks to @scrambledmeggys once again for the prompts!

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day

Day 6: Coffee Shop

You filled the kettle up with water from the tap and set it on the stove to boil. With each passing day, you found yourself missing your favorite coffee shop more and more. While you weren't a religious coffee drinker like some people, you could appreciate a well brewed cup of joe. It was something special you allowed yourself every now and then.

While you could make yourself coffee, you tried not to once it got late in the day as the extra caffeine was never a good idea. Monster coffee also had a different flavour from any kinds you'd tried on the surface, but you weren't enough of a coffee snob to care. They did make good teas though, which was what you were preparing now.

You'd seemingly made a full recovery from the injuries you'd sustained from the fall over the few weeks you'd been here. This was probably thanks to the healing properties of monster food, which you were still completely blown away by. On the surface, you probably would've been confined to the hospital or at the very least on bed rest for a couple months. Then again, you weren't sure how bad your injuries had really been in the first place.

Unfortunately, your mind now turned to what you should do next. You'd promised to keep Frisk safe no matter what happened, but you'd also made another promise to yourself the day you'd fallen down here. That being, to get back to the surface or at least get Frisk back to the surface.

You hadn't mentioned it to Frisk but you'd had your doubts from the beginning that you two would make it this long. Then, you discovered Frisk's ability and your survivability had improved, but you didn't feel right relying on Frisk to constantly reset. It would be terrible for their mental health to constantly witness your death and you knew it already had affected them. Still, you wanted to do what was best for them and let them live a normal life again.

Suddenly, Papyrus was standing next to you and had reached over to remove the whistling kettle from the stove. You hadn't even noticed it was boiling with how focused on your thoughts you'd been. It was actually slightly embarrassing if you were being honest.

Papyrus proceeded to wordlessly pour the hot water into your mug as well as one he'd grabbed from the cupboard for himself. After setting the kettle down on the stove again, he slid your mug closer to you and added some sugar to his own.

You added some sugar to your mug and waited silently for the tea to steep. You didn't really know what you should say or if you should say anything at all. So, you just opted for a quiet, "Thank you," for the moment. Papyrus nodded, but he seemed to be having a similar problem as you, or maybe he just didn't feel up for conversation.

"oh come on, kiddo!" you heard Sans grumble from the living room, accompanied by the distinctive sounds of furious button mashing.

You peeked into the living room to find both him and Frisk engaged in what you thought was a game of Mario Kart, although you weren't an expert on retro video games so you weren't entirely sure which version it was. Maybe Mario Kart 64? Either way, they looked like they were having fun and you couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"Frisk Seems To Like It Here," Papyrus commented quietly.

Slightly surprised, you looked over at him. "I guess so?" You went back to the counter to remove the tea bag from your mug as it was likely steeped properly by now.

Papyrus put his hand on your shoulder when you turned back around and gently guided you to sit down at the kitchen table. He sat down across from you and took a sip from his own tea.

"Is That So Surprising?" he finally asked, his scarlet eyelights never leaving your face as he spoke.

You stared down at your tea and frowned slightly. He was right, Frisk did seem happier lately, yet you couldn't help but feel conflicted. They deserved to be free to experience all the things a child their age would, not being confined indoors all the time.

They should go to school to learn and explore the great wide world before it was too late. They should make friends their own age, not just weird adults. They should discover themselves and figure out what they wanted to do with their life.

It wasn't fair. You would do anything to give them the best in life. In fact, you would give up your very life at this point just so they could have a shot at being happy.

"I... I don't know what to do," you murmured. "You and your brother have been so kind but I worry for their future. It'll become suffocating for them as they grow up, don't you think?"

Papyrus frowned and leaned forward slightly in his chair. "If You Are Saying That You Think Frisk Would Be Happier Back On The Surface, There Is Something You Need To Know. It Is Impossible For Anyone To Cross The Barrier On Their Own. The Only Known Way Is If You Absorb A Monster Soul, Meaning You Will Have To Somehow Kill King Asgore. However, Even If You Could Kill Him, It Would Only Work For You And Not Frisk, Unless They Were The One Who Absorbed His Soul Instead."

The kitchen seemed to grow icy as he spoke and yet you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him. You swallowed thickly, feeling your palms grow sweaty and your heartbeat beginning to echo in the back of your skull.

"The Only Other Way Is If The Barrier Is Broken, But We Need Two More Human Souls Before That Can Happen And I Do Not Want You Two To Be Those Souls." Papyrus sighed and clenched his fists slightly before continuing, "You Were Able To Convince Me And Sans, But You Will Not Be Able To Just Talk To The King. He Will Kill Both Of You And You Will Not Be Able To Do Anything..."

"Why are you telling me all this?" you asked quietly. "We've always known the stakes but we pushed through anyways."

"Because, We Have Become Rather Fond Of Both Of You. I Am Suggesting That You Consider Staying Here More Permanently."

Papyrus hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I Want You To Stay, Rihanna. No, I Need You To Stay..." His eyelights quivered slightly and the tone of his voice was rough with emotion.

You stared at him, trying to figure out if you'd heard him correctly. There was something there that he hadn't said out loud. Whether he had the strength to do so or not, you couldn't decide.

"Alright, we'll stay..." you muttered. "I'm not making any promises though, okay?"

While he was right, you weren't fully convinced it would be as impossible as he'd made it out. Surely there was another way to get back to the surface...right?

[sgt-scottymoreau]

Minor Setback - CIAJ

Summary: Patience is a virtue they say, but for a long can someone remain patient when everything seems to stay still? Soap is about to face the consequence of impatient. Ghost just want him to stay alive and no be reckless for once. On her side, Scotty try to help them all while struggeling with more feelings.

Warning: None

Words: 4.6k // Part1 - Part 2 // AO3 // Masterlist

A/N: I made some sketches/design drawing about this AU, I'll post them later!

Since that day, Scotty had been slightly more avoidant of Soap. Talking about what happened that night was out of the question. It wasn’t the fight in itself or the butterflies she had in her stomach for hours afterwards when she was in bed rethinking of their closeness. His hand on hers, his muscles twitching as he kept her pinned on the mat. That she could handle and accept. It was the idea, a crazy one, that he would see her as a potential third pilot. It was out of the question to be in control of the metal monster ever again. On top of this, she was already against the idea of letting one person her head, two? Never! Every time Soap would start even mentioning the possibility of drifting, she stopped him right here and there. 

“Do you want me to tell him to stay away?” Ghost proposed.

“No!” Scotty replied, planting her fork in the mash potato. “I don’t want him to be away. I just need him to let go of the idea that I would be somehow able to drift with you. Like… I'm a mechanic for fuck sake, I probably got lucky that night.” 

Bullshit. Ghost knew it was. He didn’t see the fight nor fought himself, but how Soap described it, it was obvious to him as well. Difference is he knew she had her reason to want to stay secretive and would let her. He was the same. “Talking of which, how are the tryouts going?” 

“Not so well. We have good candidates that are on standby for a potential three person drift. Soap’s condition is improving but… I don’t want to risk anything yet.” Ghost chewed on his food, jaw tense at the idea that it could all go wrong. “We are discussing maybe having Price or Gaz to see if the cadets can handle the new system.”

“That sounds like a good option. We finally finished removing all the interior of Tanker’s Conn-Pod. Tomorrow we should start rebuilding the motion center. It seems all is falling into place.” They both agreed on that. The more concrete some part of the project looked, the more hope they had that it would workout. 

Later that day, Soap was at the infirmary, sat on the bed, waiting for his brain scan result. It has been four weeks since the last one. Almost two months since the fatal accident. Fidgeting with his fingers, head down, he only hoped for the best. The doctor entered the room with the pictures and placed them on the light board. He pointed out a few parts with a smile. Soap was on a good slope. However, the doctor still restricted him to no Drift. The Scotsman held down the few swears and rage that was boiling inside him. If he was doing better, why did he still have to stay on the bench? He did his best to keep a positive attitude all the time, but this kind of news really took him down. He was so frustrated with himself. He left the wing ready to punch a wall. It was easy to say that he wasn’t ready yet, but what if he was? If they never connected him to the Neural Handshake again, no one will ever know. Obviously, they all preferred to play it safe. Soap was done playing safe.

Two days after his irrational decision, Soap wandered on the maintenance bay asking if anyone had seen Scotty around. Other technicians pointed to the cockpit. He found, deep inside what seemed to be the new skeleton of the motion system. He called her over. Scotty lifted her head and waved at him. She would be back up in a minute. A quick wielding work, climbed through the scaffolding and she was at his level. “What do you want?” 

“I was passing by and I was wondering if you would like to walk with me.” He smiled. Scotty frowned.

“Walking? Where? In town? Here?”

“Here. Well not here here, but around the dome… Look I just want someone to talk to that is not Ghost.”

“Oh, how come?”

Soap shrugged without really having any reasons. He just wanted to. Scotty told him that it was fine, she needed to get changed first. Her uniform was full of grease and not very comfortable to walk in after she just spent ten hours in it. That wasn’t a problem. They made a quick stop to her quarter and went on with a small stroll in the building. She mindlessly followed him, listening to what he had to say, commenting on some points, and kept him updated with her predictions when Tanker would be ready. The casual thing. She should have paid more attention to where he was dragging her because when the computer screens came into vision, Scotty’s mind went on high alert. Next to them stood a mock-up version of what was inside the Jaegers’s Conn-Pod on a much smaller scale. Soap closed and locked the door behind them. She turned around to look at him. “Soap, what the fuck do you have in mind?”

“Everyone tells me I’m not ready, now is not the time, it could be dangerous.” Soap walked to the computer and started to type some commands in it. “I say, I am.”

“No! This is a terrible idea!” He didn’t listen to her, grabbed the helmet on the stand and handed it to her. Scotty grabbed it still under shock. “Soap, don’t do this!”

“It’s alright! I’m not doing it alone.”

It hit her. He was planning to drift with her. Scotty placed the helmet back on the hook. “No, no, no! I’m not doing this, you are not doing. We are not! I won’t let you.”

“Too afraid to have someone in your head?”

“No! … Yes! That’s not the point! What if something bad happened to you?”

Soap chuckled, placing the helmet on his head. Felt a little tight, it has been a while. Scotty was having none of it. She headed back to the door, unlocked it but a hand grabbed her arm. Soap plunged his blue eyes in hers, pleading his case. Just this time, just once. If anything went bad, he would accept that he was not ready. She was upset and torn between the fact that he was right. There was no way to know till he jumped in the simulator. On the other hand, things could go terribly wrong. Soap promised that all would be fine. That and whatever he will find in the drift, he wouldn’t mention. She bit her lip. “Ok.” She let out.

Scotty walked back to the simulator, placed the helmet on her head. Soap had his confident smile, reassuring her that it would be ok. Scotty was not so sure about it. He pressed the button to start the countdown. 5… 4… 3… Scotty focused her mind on nothing. It was hard, but maybe she would be able to keep everything under control. 2… 1… The familiar sensation of falling back, to be absorbed into another dimension. Pulled through this strange tunnel and pushed back with such force. A farm with a family… Warm day in a land surrounded by green on top of a hill… Kids running on the football field towards the goal… These were Soap’s memories. 

Rainy days jumping in puddles… A father running to his kids in an army uniform… The smell of flowers on a new spring day… Her memories.

Scotty was pushed back to reality, her vision adjusting back to the room around them. Nausea caught her by the throat, she quickly took a few deep breaths. Her head felt heavy, like someone was crushing it strongly between their hands. She had forgotten how it was let someone inside. Slowly, she turned her head to check on Soap. He was standing, his eyes focused in front of him. His hands were holding on to the center panel between them. He pushed himself up, a little more steadily. They looked at each other and for a moment, they felt it. They connected. A quick glance at the screen in front of her, their waves were synchronized and stable. Despite the pounding against her skull, Scotty saw it. He looked sweaty, short of breath and shaking. A sharp pain pierced both of them in the chest.

The crushing of the jaw against the metal structure, the sensation of weightlessness, his back hitting the door lock, his head being almost impaled by a rode, a very sharp pain… 

The weightlessness… her hand desperately reached for the life pod ejection in vain… Johan called out for her to brace for impact… Sudden deceleration…

Blackness covered her mind for a second. Scotty grabbed on the upper panel in front of her, her eyes frantically looking at the screen. They were misaligned and the neural load was horrific! A loud thud resonated on her right. Her hand slammed the emergency button. The simulation stopped right away. In a frenzy, she removed the helmet, ran to the entrance door, slammed on the intercom to call out for help and returned to Soap. She took off the helmet, throwing it away without any care. She placed his head on her lap. His nose was bleeding, he was shaking. “Oh no no, Soap, come on! John please!” She panicked, tears in her eyes.

“How the fuck could you!” He shouted, fist clenched. Price was between him and the poor mechanic who was still crying. Price knew Ghost wouldn’t get physical, it wasn’t his style but better safe than sorry.

“I’m sorry! I told him it was a bad idea! I tried to stop him!” She cried back for the hundred times. Gaz was keeping her up, hands on her shoulders. Since he knew her it was the first time he saw so distressed. 

“You didn’t try hard enough! Fucking hell! That’s all your fault!” 

“Enough!” Price’s voice boomed in the room. These two were causing such a scene that no medical personnel dared to approach the group. “Simon, I want you to take a breath and calm down. This is not her fault, not entirely, let Soap explain himself when he wakes up.”

This only eased up the tension temporarily. Scotty didn’t blame Ghost for being angry at her. She should have put her foot down and refused firmly to go on with Soap’s idea. She should have left the room and told anyone about his dangerous plan. In retrospect, it made sense when Soap told her he didn’t want Ghost around. The Brit would have stopped him quickly. However he couldn’t put all the blame on her. How was Scotty supposed to know he would have a seizure! When the doctor came back once again in the room and asked who had let this happen, Ghost didn’t hesitate to point at her. The doctor shook his head, disappointed, yet barring good news. No further damage to the brain, he had been lucky. He allowed the team to go in the room.

Soap was looking out the window. The sun was setting in the distance with a beautiful mirroring image on the ocean. Lethargic, his head turned towards the door as his friends stepped in. Even from afar, Soap could tell that Ghost was pissed. The way he walked to his side, oh he was in for some chewing. “What the fuck where you thinking!” His tone was firm but never rose up. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“Of course not.” Soap’s voice was weak. He was still recovering. “But I’m tired of people telling me I can’t do anything when I know I can. Simon, it worked!”

“Like hell it did. Look at you. Look where you are for fuck sake!”

Soap’s hands clenched on the bed sheets. “This is just a minor setback. It was my first time back into the simulator. It will be better next time.”

“There won't be a next time Mr. MacTavish.” The Marshal entered the room, hands behind his back, posture fully straight and a strict look. As soon as the news reached that one of his rangers found himself again at the infirmary in an almost critical state, of course he would come in person. “You are grounded. The modification on Bravo Tanker will remain active, but you. Even if your condition gets better, you are forbidden to pilot till I say so. Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Soap mumbled under his breath. The Marshal then demanded Price and Gaz to follow him, they had to discuss possible deployment plans now that it seemed like his second main Jaeger will be staying in the garage for a little longer. Scotty was uneasy, uncertain what to do. Ghost and Soap were looking at each other in silence. Maybe it was better to give them some room. Without a word, she turned around ready to leave, but someone grabbed her upper arm. The amber eyes pierced her brown one with intensity. Ghost asked her to stay, he wanted to talk. All three of them. He sat her on the bed and he watched both, very disappointed. At least his rage was gone. Soap’s eyes avoided his, focused on his legs hidden under the blanket. “It worked.” He let out after a few minutes of silence.

“It did not, Johnny. If it had you wouldn’t be here.”

“I’m not talking about me jumping in the simulator, Simon. I’m talking about her.”

Scotty’s head perked up. He was pointing at her with a weak smile. “What worked?” She asked, confused.

“We were stable. We drifted, we were on the same length… till that stupid memory came back. I threw us off.” It was impossible to forget the sensation, how real it was. Scotty felt what Soap did as if she had been in the cockpit. That fraction of seconds where it all played was the reason she had been accidently also thrown off the rail as well. Maybe after all, it was partially her fault if Soap found himself in the infirmary again? “I have a question. Who is Johan?”

She tensed up at the name. Her hands crisped on her knees, head looking down. Of course, if she saw his memories, he saw hers. So he saw the one that made her lose all control before his seizure. “My… My old co-pilot… I used to pilot, yes.” 

The lack of reaction on their part made her guess they figured this much even before. Obviously, if he was asking he saw everything and knew. Scotty didn’t remember the last time she openly talked about what happened that day. Soap connected the dots; this is what had upset her after their fight. He lived that memory and understood why she kept it secret. Scotty decided to let it all out. She explained how they had been deployed to protect the coast near Dunkerque. One massive category three who gave them more trouble than expected. It found a way to be too close from the beach and they had to evacuate anyone in a three kilometer radius. Roughly similar to what happened to Bravo Tanker, their Jaeger integrity has been compromised. They received back up but it was far too late. The kaiju used its heavy tail to slam one last attack as it turned to face its new opponent. The tail hit directly in the structure of the neck already heavily damaged. This hit was enough to decapitate the poor mecha. The sensation of free fall grabbed them by the stomach. During the long seconds of it, they tried to use their life pod, hoping this would absorb the shock better. The Conn-Pod came crashing on the shore, seventy-six meters below. When she regained awareness of everything around her, she had a broken arm, half hanging from her station. Everything else was broken; spark bursting from loose cables, metal pieces bent, broken, sharpened. With much effort, Scotty manually removed the harness holding her and fell against the broken visor of the mecha; their window to the world. Which in itself was quite a fall and she landed on her bad arm. She cried out in pain. A weak voice called for her. Ignoring her injury, the pilot pushed herself up to see where it came from. The vision she found forever scarred her. Johan was there, laying on the sand, a pipe lodged in his neck. Blood gurgled from his mouth as he desperately tried to reach out for her. His eyes filled with fear. Scotty kneeled next to him frantically trying to save him, but what could she do? He was lucky… or unlucky that the pipe didn’t reach all the way to the back. He would have died instantly. He weakly reached for her hand and in a twisted turn of event, they realized they were still connected to each other. His fear and pain was hers, hers his. She felt him slowly drifting away, thinking of his wife and kids at home. Tell them I love them please. Tell them I’ll always watch over them. Then it all stopped. No more fear nor pain. Not more breath nor warm. Silent and cold. His hand slipped from hers, the life in his eyes faded into a glassy look.

“The kaiju had been taken care of in the meantime and the medical team was able to evacuate us. But it was too late. He had been dead for ten minutes. I was incapable of saving him.” Tears rolled down her cheeks again. She wiped them quickly. The two men remained speechless; they didn’t know what to say. Yet they understood why she refused the pilot again. After that, she struggled hard with survivor guilt to the point she wasn’t capable of letting go. Every simulation was a failure because of this memory which haunted her every waking moment of the day. So she gave up and took a job as J-tech. Ghost sat next  to her, his hand reached to rest on her leg as a comforting gesture. Soap’s fingers brushed on her hand and held her. All her pain and sadness was suddenly replaced by confusion. Scotty knew they wanted to show support by these gestures, however her brain had all the wrong signals. Why were we doing this? Was there something more behind it?

“I’m sorry to hear.” Ghost let out. Their eyes met for a second; for someone who was pissed at her not even twenty minutes ago he showed so much kindness in his gaze.

“Thanks for sharing it with us.” Soap reassured. “We understand if you don't want to pilot, but you looked pretty good at it.”

She smiled, understanding his meaning. He also caught a glimpse of her fights. “I’ll never pilot again.”

“You should really reconsider.”

Two weeks laters, after almost ten hours shift over another one, none stop working between days and nights, fighting logistics to make sure all parts would be on time and in good conditions, the new interior was done. Bravo Tanker was officially ready to welcome three pilots onboard. Some touch up where needed, especially in the calibration system. They had to make sure that each pilot would share an equal amount of load. They tried different test runs on how the Jaeger would react to certain percentages input; so far every test came back with good results. To the whole crew it meant everything, their hard work, had paid off. The true test would be so to see in action and not some simulation, but everyone was quite happy. 

Soap had learned his lesson and accepted once and for all to stay patient. Because of his permanent grounding, the Marshal had put the recruiting on hold. He wouldn’t accept reckless behavior without consequences. The Scotsman kept it to the minimum, physical training only in moderation. Despite all that, he did find a new training partner. 

Scotty kept her word; no piloting. However with the truth out, she felt lighter, a burden lifted and more open to return to some old habits. She wasn’t afraid anymore to be in the Kwoon room. Not that she ever had been that much, but it always felt like someone would know her secret. Only her superiors were aware of her past rank. This allowed Ghost to feel what Soap had.

They trained together four times in that period. Each time, it was the same. The same connection, same dance, same feeling. Depending on the martial art they chose that session, it often ended in a tie or with one winner, but the score was so close. The fencing sword stopped right under his chin. “4-3. I won!” She grinned out of breath. Ghost admitted his defeat. His arms dropped on each side, exhausted by the intense workout. He walked away to get some water. Soap handed a towel to Scotty. An idea crossed his mind. 

“I dare you to jump on him.” He whispered.

“What? Why?”

“Oh you know, a surprise attack. Let's see if he can predict that.”

Hmm what did she have to lose? The mat tempered her steps so it was easy to sneak close. With a small run-up, she launched herself. Ghost looked over his shoulder, turned just enough to grab on her wrist, flung her above him. Scotty’s back hit the mat roughly, she deserved that. He took the opportunity to sit on her. “He will get you in trouble every time, love. Stop listening to him.” He smirked behind the mask.

The smile on her face dropped. “Love?”

“Don’t like it? I thought I could try since you and Soap seem to be so keen on pet names.”

“Uh.. No, no it’s fine.” Her cheeks burned. These two! She really wished she could know what game they were playing because she was getting more and more mixed signals. Maybe she should tell them the truth? Maybe, some day.

The next day, the kaiju alert rang through the building. 

Ghost and Soap were talking with the Marshal as it happened. The man told them to follow him to the LOCCENT. Being grounded didn’t mean they couldn’t follow what was happening. Arriving in the room, the Marshal was quickly greeted by a woman who looked scared. With reason. The reading on the screen showed the category of the monster. The first ever Category Four in the region. From the data they had from other ones that showed up around the world, these were thought bastard. The Marshal had to consider his options. His strongest Jaeger was inoperative. But his newer teams were now fully capable alone. One Jaeger would be too little, two acceptable, three safest. Three out of five. If anything happened to all of them, he lost more than half his defense. They wouldn’t be able to protect the coast effectively. 

“Bravo Brawler, Vulcan Striker, Fury Hunter get ready for deployment.” He ordered through the intercom. 

The three Jaegers were quickly dispatched to the last known location of the beast. From there it went from bad to worse. This kaiju was taller and larger than the mechas, it was robust and strong. It barely took him five minutes to destroy one Jaeger. Fury Hunter, the last of the Mark-3 the Shatterdome hosted. It was too slow to react. The kaiju’s carapace made any regular blow almost ineffective. Bravo Brawler tried the missile but missed the target by a few meters as it squirmed away. One moment of inattention was all it needed to strike on another Jaeger taking her down.

In the LOCCENT tension was rising by the minute. The Marshal kept his composure despite his mind being crushed when the second announcement came up. He just lost two Jaegers. Four pilots, dead. Soap was restless, arms crossed, bouncing on his heels. He knew what had to be done. They couldn’t waste more time or life. His eyes went to the Marshal then to Ghost who had the same expression through his balaclava. His eyes spoke of the anxiety that was crippling on everyone's minds. “You have to let us assist!” The Scotsman spoke up.

“No. If you steps in-”

“If we don’t do anything, Price and Gaz are going to die!” He cut off the Marshal. “By the time you make your decision, this Kaiju will have reached the shore and killed us. Either way, there’s a chance I die!”

“Johnny, we are not going!” Ghost intervened. “We don’t even have our third pilot!”

“Yes we do! Scotty is the perfect match and you know it!”

“Ms. Moreau?” The Marshal was confused. “She is a J-tech.”

“She was a pilot and she is the only one who can help us right now!”

“Soap, we can risk-”

“Give me a break, Ghost! We have to try or more people will die! If I die, at least I tried and didn’t stay still doing nothing!”

Ghost’s expression hardened. His reasoning was right. They had to make a choice now.

Scotty was in the Conn-Pod refining some tuning on the calibration system. Heavy stepfoot echoed around. Suddenly, more technicians poured inside. She froze up for a moment. What was going on? A tech told her to follow him to the Drivesuit Room, this only added to her confusion. In the room, she was greeted by an already fully suited and armored Ghost and Soap. It has been ages since they wore the ‘uniform’. “Can anyone tell me what is going on?”

“Suit up.” Soap smiled, throwing a suit to her. 

She awkwardly catched it, totally taken aback by the situation. Suit up? Hold on! They weren’t going to go fight this new category four were they? With her? Ghost noticed her moment of hesitation. “No time to waste Scotty. Price and Gaz need us, come on.”

“I-I can’t! I can’t pilot again.” Tears blurred her vision. Too many emotions took her by the throat in a second. Soap held her by the shoulders.

“It’s going to be alright. We will be there for you, we will support you.” He gave her a pat and jogged towards the Conn-Pod, too excited to be back in the action. Ghost stopped next to her. He lifted her chin, whipped a tear with his thumb.

“You can trust us. Also, you know there’s no way we can change his mind now so better indulge him. Even if it kills him…” 

Scotty was left alone, suit in hands and stunned by the gesture Ghost made. She looked at the circuit prints on it, the fabric felt like an old dream under her fingertips. She could push through and save the day or she could back down but this would mean the death of so many, including people she deeply cared about? No. This war had taken too much already and it was time she stopped playing cowards. In record speed, she changed from her technician clothes to the full armor of a pilot. It was heavier than she remembered, not that she minded at the moment. She walked determined to join up with the other two. They had a smile on their face as she walked in, helmet under her arm. Ghost took his place on the right as usual, Soap setting up his side on the left. This was their regular formation. Scotty stopped him. 

“Let us handle the load, you take the third seat.” She said in a tone that left no room for talk back. “We are the strong base, you are at the top. For now we are your support, just like a triangle.”

“Now it is not the time for a shape lecture.” Ghost chuckled. 

All three pilots locked themselves to their respective harness. Everything secured and held in place, it was time to plunge. The onboard AI made the countdown. 15 seconds to Neural Handshake. Scotty took a deep breath, it was time to see if all their efforts in the previous months were worth it. 5…4…3…2…1 Neural Handshake initiated.

[ragingdumpsterfire]

Don’t Look Into the Void

Infamous Second Son OC: Juno Moore x Delsin Rowe

Content Warning: Juno gets chased by a very bad guy, bad guy things ensue.

I start this with a warning that I haven’t written much in a while. The ol’ writing brain just hasn’t been there, but the prompt of decay/surrender had me excited. So I gave it a shot. Here is the resulting blurb from the 20 monkeys mashing keyboards in my brain.

__________________________________

Hard concrete comes into contact with heavy boots, ringing footsteps a cacophony of fear as wide eyes dart around, trying to find some vestige of safety in the dark city streets. The dark buildings around held no passing thought for the chase happening in their midsts; they were merely silent observers. Tears start running down windchapped cheeks, a scream threatening to burst forth into the world.

“Juno”. The word is long and drawn out, taunting and sneering and bouncing off the brick walls around the woman. Following her. Chasing her. Hunting her. 

“Look at you run, Juno”.

A moment passes, then a cold, snarling laugh rips through the alley, closer to Juno than it should be. It sends waves of tremors through her body as her feet hit the pavement, a vain attempt to carry her away from her predator. Her hands plead with the environment around her as she runs, trying to grasp any source of energy that would serve as fuel for an attack. Nothing happens as she desperately reaches out, a sob choking her as her lungs burn from the exertion. Juno frantically runs through a route in her mind for the thousandth time, left down here, then right down there, jump the fence if the gate is locked. This is a path she had traveled hundreds of times, and her feet now move mostly by instinct. 

The corner of the alley approaches, twenty feet, ten feet, five, and Juno stumbles, fingers pawing at the ground in an attempt to keep herself upright and moving. She can feel the skin scrape up against the rough ground, but she pushes off the ground with momentum, uprighting her body again and skidding around the corner. She knows there should be pain, but she can’t feel it yet. All she can feel is her heart thumping wildly in her chest and the screaming pain in her body to keep moving. The scream telling her to keep running at all costs is cut short by a different scream, one telling Juno that something is horribly, terribly wrong. 

Oh no. No no no no. NO!

Juno’s eyes look around in a frenzy, a wave of nausea hitting her. There wasn’t supposed to be a wall at the end of this alley. There was never a wall here. Juno had taken this alley many times, hell, a hundred times, just to cut through traffic. There was never a wall here. There was never a fucking wall here.

“Fuck!” The yell reverberates down the alley, muffled sobs breaking the frigid night as Juno slumps to the ground, back against the wall like a cornered, dying animal. There aren’t any fences to climb, windows to jump into, escapes of any kind. Movement at the end of the alley causes Juno to focus on the invader, eyes locking with a tall, dark figure. This man, this monster, stalks towards her, hands behind his back as he surveys his prey. He was dressed in all black, long body blending with the shadows that seem to bend around him. His face was hidden with a hood, always having an advantage over those he hunted. Something oozed from the ground beneath his feet, black as the void and flooding the alley with an acrid scent. It permeated Juno’s senses, burning her nasal passages and filling her eyes with stinging tears. A clicking sound emits from the man, now five meters away, then a sigh. Juno is filled with a burning rage as the familiarity dawns on her.  She’s heard this before. The sound was that of an authority figure before hitting a misbehaving child. 

“Whatever am I going to do with you”, crooned the velvety voice. “You’ve made me chase you all over town. You’ve caused me quite the inconvenience, did you realize?”

Juno’s eyes dart into the darkness under the man’s hood where facial features should be, but the space is unnaturally dark. Something deep inside her screams at her to run, to fight, to do anything. She knows the man is looking right back at her, she can feel his gaze. And for a moment, something like a glint in his eye shimmers. 

“What the fuck do you want from me,” Juno spits out, rage flowing through her words. Her body aches, muscles and ligaments pushed past their limit, body scraped up and powers absent. She glares up at the man as he wanders closer, inspecting her. There’s a soft chuckle, and she can tell that from under his hood, he’s grinning. 

“Well, it’s really quite simple, Juno,” he begins slowly, as one does when explaining to a young child. “Like you, I am also a conduit. Unlike you, however, I don’t get my power source from such quaint places as yourself.”

He paces in the alley slowly, always clasping his hands behind his back, always keeping his gaze towards Juno.

“You, my darling, get your power from…oh what was it…” 

He pauses, cocking his head and putting his finger to his lips, mocking her. 

“Ah yes,” he says in that velvety, predatory tone, causing Juno’s skin to crawl. “You get your power from deposits of pigment in the world, perpetuating brightness and light in a circle of creativity. How adorable.” The last word is drawn out far too long, venom dripping on his lips. But it is the hunter’s next action that makes Juno flinch back, feeling the rough wall digging into her skin. As he drops down into a crouch, close enough for Juno to see glints of light reflecting off his pointed teeth, he gestures to the pool of black tar underneath him.

“You see, I am the antithesis to your abilities, darlin’. I grab life around the throat and throttle the hell outta it.” 

As he lazily waves his hand over the tar, it moved to match his motion, dripping upwards against gravity to meet him, tendrils wrapping around his fingers like a vine. Quiet rustling from the side of the alley catches Juno’s attention, but she doesn’t take her eyes off the man in front of her. She inhales sharply as he swivels his head towards the noise in a hawklike motion, staring down the source. Juno’s eyes trail cautiously over to join the man’s line of vision, and sees a young rat, small nose wriggling as it sniffs and rifles through decaying leaves. It doesn’t heed them any attention, and Juno internally yells for it to run, to just get away from the inevitability that Juno can sense. 

A low growl of a chuckle leaves Juno’s pursuer as he sees her distraught expression, and he raises a finger towards the animal. Like a viper strike, the black tar lunges forward, wrapping around the rat in a tight embrace. It emits a high-pitched series of squeaks as it thrashes against the tar, trying to break free. Juno’s attention is brought back to the dark figure beside her as he clears his throat, peering at her. The rat’s shrieks drill into Juno’s consciousness.

“Now as you can see,” the man explained wryly, “I drain my power source from living things. And depending on how I’m feeling at the moment, I can make the experience quite painless, given—oh no no no, look at me—given my power source doesn’t struggle.” There’s a sinister emphasis on the last word, and Juno shrinks under his invisible stare. The frantic squeaks become calmer now, and when the man nods towards the animal, Juno’s eyes follow. The rat is grayer, more fragile than before. It had aged in moments, its life force slowly sucked out of it by the tar and into the man. A hand darts out and grabs Juno’s chin roughly, bringing her focus back to the dark, faceless hood. 

“And what happens if they struggle and fight back, you ask? Well, honey, that’s when the real fun begins.” 

Juno’s hands rush up to cover her ears as the alley is flooded in a piercing squealing. Her eyes dart back to the rat, and is met with an image of flesh ripping and disintegrating, peeling off in shreds and revealing bones and organs spilling onto the hungry tar. Bile rises in Juno’s throat at the putrid sight and smell, her eyes burning, and the contents of her stomach spill out on the ground beside her. Within mere moments, all is silent once more, and the only remnants of what once was a living creature were bones. Rapid aging and decomposition happening right in front of her eyes, a horrific power for a conduit to wield. She couldn’t stomach the thought of how many people this monster had used this ability on.

Juno wipes her mouth off on her sleeve, trying to erase the image of the tortured animal from her retinas. A hand appears in front of her face and the fingers snap. 

“Hey, hey, look up at me,” demands the voice, and Juno’s eyes follow to once more peer into the void staring at her. “Now I’m going to tell you what I was trying to tell you before you ran off earlier.” A small huff comes from the man, and he continues. “I need a constant living source to pull from to keep myself full. As you can see,” he said, gesturing to the remains of the rat, “can’t do shit once my source is dead. So, I’m gonna give you two options.” He held his v-shaped fingers in Juno’s face to further emphasize the point. “My suggestion would be to come with me all quiet like. I absorb my energy from you, and in exchange I keep you safe with me. As long as you do what I say, you won’t end up like our little friend over there.”

He paused, his demeanor darkening.

“If you decide to fight back, well…..let’s just say I’d much rather you not. I’d really prefer to not have to clean brain matter off my clothing so soon. And trust me, if you make me do that, I’ll be sure to make it as painful as possible.”

The pounding of Juno’s heart had to be audible to the man crouched next to her, and with a sinking feeling, she realized she had no way out of this situation. Become fodder for a fucking vampire conduit, or be brutally murdered in some Seattle alley. It felt like the world was crashing in on her, smothering her and ripping her apart as she lost focus on her surroundings. Fuck, no, this can’t be it. I…I have so much shit I wanted to do…

Juno barely registers the man stirring next to her, suddenly standing up and looking around, but then she looks up, and her brows furrow in confusion. The man cocks his head to the side, seemingly tired of paying her attention. She has no fucking idea what he would be focusing on after hunting her down like this. But then the scent hits Juno’s senses, the familiar, safe smell of burning ashes, and the alley is bathed in a fury of red light and embers that solidify in front of her. Within a split second, a figure kneels down in front of her, arms out wide to protect her, to save her. 

“Delsin!”

And the realization that Delsin is here hits Juno, and she starts sobbing, stinging tears rolling down her face and falling onto her sweater. Relief to not be alone washes over her, only to be replaced by the sudden horror that Delsin will be attacked by this hunter too. Warm, large hands come up and cradle Juno’s face, thumbs wiping away her tears as dark brown eyes look into her own. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s-it’s me, babe, it’s me. Shhh, it’s okay, I gotcha.”

“Delsin—Delsin, listen, you need to get the fuck out of here.” Juno’s speech is frantic and racing, her hands gripping onto Delsin’s wrists as her eyes plead with him to escape. “He’s a fucking maniac, Dels—he’s going to fucking kill us!”

Moments pass as the two lock eyes, deep brown into stormy blue, and something inside Juno snaps as she sees resolve in Delsin. He leans down towards Juno, sliding a hand up to gently cradle her neck, and crashes his lips into hers with a burning need. She can taste smoke and ash from a million wildfires on his lips, and in a moment, he’s gone, standing to face their foe. 

No, no—he can’t do this, god no, please Delsin, don’t do this! I fucking need you, Delsin!

Juno can’t distinguish the words being spoken as her head spins, an ocean roaring in her ears as she fights to stay conscious. A cold, harsh laugh. A chain dropping to the ground. Delsin kneeling down on the ground, the ooze of tar nearing him. 

“And you’ll leave her the fuck alone if you have me, right?” 

A deep, quiet chuckle, and a nod. And then the strands of tar surround him, leeching into him, swallowing him up. He’s facing away, but Juno can see the way his skin fades and grows brittle, his hair turns to streaks of gray, the way his clothes start to drape off him limbs and he shrinks and ages prematurely. There was no sound from Delsin, just the quiet acceptance of someone trying to protect their loved one. And as quiet as a whisper, he was gone from this world, leaving Juno alone with his remains and the hunter. The hunter who was now causing the tar to recede back from where it came from.

“Poor fool was so ready to die that he didn’t stop to think about how miserable you’d be. Ah well,” he stated with a smirk, “that’s a you problem, not a me problem.” And with a faint, frigid breeze, he was gone. 

At first, Juno sat there, just staring at the pile of clothes, the bones sticking out. Her eyes locked with it, glazed over. Her fingers absently rubbing over her arms, nails scratching at her skin. Tears poured down her face silently, her vision a blurry world of gray. Her lungs wouldn’t fill with enough air, and she was drowning, chest starting to rise wildly in any attempt to get oxygen. It wouldn’t come. Juno threw her head back and let the scream rip out of her that had been building, fists beating on the ground as she wailed. Her knuckles grew bloody and shredded, scrubbing at her face as if she could just wake up and end all of this. If she could just wake up. Wake up….just….wake up. 

                            ____________

Juno’s eyes burst open as she sat up, arms fighting against something pinning them down. She couldn’t move them, and she screamed a long, mournful wail. She was surrounded by darkness.  

“No, let me go, get the fuck off of me!”

“Juno?! Babe, it’s me, it’s Delsin—babe, you’re okay, it’s okay, just listen to me.”

Juno turned wildly in the dark, only to meet two wide brown eyes gazing at her with concern, brows knitted downward. She knew those eyes, those were safe eyes. Those were Delsin’s eyes. He had his arms wrapped around Juno to keep her from thrashing and hurting either of them, circles under his eyes. He was half covered with their quilt and shirtless, and Juno’s awareness grew to recognize her pillow, the soft moonlight out the window of their apartment, the hum of a fan. They were safe, Delsin was safe. 

“Oh my god Delsin, you’re safe, you’re here—oh my god.” 

Juno’s arms flailed out to wrap Delsin in a tight hug, Delsin readjusting and wrapping his arm around Juno’s shoulders. He tucked a pillow up behind them, getting comfy against the wall behind their bed, and pulled the quilt up to cover them better. He softly grabbed her hand with his free hand, rubbing circles into the skin.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m here, we’re safe, and I’m not going anywhere. It was just a bad dream, that’s all. Listen babe, I got you. It’s okay.”

Juno nodded slowly, head heavy with exhaustion, and she collapsed against Delsin’s warm chest, closing her eyes again, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. The room was comfortably quiet, and eventually her heart rate slowed to a normal pace. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, sleep beckoned her. She hadn’t experienced a nightmare like that in such a long time, it had been so real. But the warmth from Delsin and his quiet snores invited her into a deep sleep, one that provided much needed rest.

In the morning, as the delicate sunlight played through the window, Delsin’s arm was still around Juno when she woke up “Hey,” came a raspy, sleep-laden voice, warm as the morning sun. It filled Juno with comfort, feeling the embrace tighten.

“I’ll always keep you safe, babe.”

[blasphemousxo]

For as long as I could remember I had a companion named Baby. She was a teddy bear I got a baby from Osh Kosh B’Gosh. She was white and baby blue pinstriped with a baby blue bow around her neck and on her chest was an embroidered heart that was also baby blue. She was my best friend, I didn’t have very many friends growing up. Probably about 2 or 3 friends. But I had Baby. She went with me everywhere, grandmas house, my dad’s house on the weekends, all the trips my grandparents would take me on. I even would sneak her to school in my backpack. I remember every detail about her. I remember the small tear under one of her arms, the hole in her throat that I believe my grandma patched up for me, and the small glue spot on top of her head. No other toy I connected with so much.

Then one day in July when I was 11, she went missing. We figured I must have dropped her leaving our apartment to go to my grandmas one night. I made missing posters that I hung around my grandmas. My grandma even went dumpster diving at our apartment complex to try and find her. But she was never found. We moved shortly after too. The hope of finding her tucked in a box eventually faded and I accepted she wasn’t coming back. To this day I get misty eyed talking about her.

I spent many, many years searching for a companion like her again. I carried a bear named Buttons that my great grandma gave me. Then it was a Jack Skellington plush doll I got at Disney world. Then a panda my high school girlfriend gave me. But none of them clicked like Baby. When I eventually started making my own money, I really began searching. Buying bears, a lot of the time from Build a Bear, hoping to find the one.

When I was 24 I had that desire came up while I was at work. So in desperation, I went to my local build a bear after work, just to see if I could find someone. They didn’t have anything new, it was December so no real good releases. I spotted the Timeless Teddy, I never liked how they looked on the website but seeing it in person stuffed I thought, I’ll give it a chance. So I picked up my skin and picked out the birthday cake scent and built the bear.

I named him Boris after the line in The Monster Mash, “when you get to my door tell them Boris sent you,” a reference of course to Boris Karloff the original actor for Frankenstein’s monster. I didn’t dress him at first until I ordered a custom Good Guy doll outfit for build a bears. After that, I loved dressing him up in different outfits. Usually he’s in a hoodie or sweater and jeans though. And something just clicked inside me with Boris. After I got him I’d still have the yearning for my companion and buy bears but I always came back to Boris. Even with the new friends I’d get, Boris was still with me. Eventually that desire faded because I realized I found what I was looking for.

He was there for me through some very tough times. He was there while I lived with my abusive ex boyfriend. He was there during my many “grippy sock vacations.” I even sobbed and called my mom when a nurse took him away from me during one of those hospital stays. He knows more about me than anyone. I love everything about him; his matted fur that shows how much love I’ve poured into him, his crooked eyes that I didn’t notice until his fur matted, the comforting way he smells that I can’t tell is from the love I’ve given him or the birthday cake scent still hanging in there or a mix of the two. Even the matted Sherpa fur feels comforting when I rub his little ears or hands.

I still buy bears not in an effort to find a companion though, but because I want them. But most of them I would be fine if I sold or game away or ended up losing somehow. Except Boris. I would be devastated if I lost him. He’s my soul-bear.

I still think of Baby a lot. I know I can never get her back or get back what I had with her. But I can’t help but think maybe she came back to me in a way with Boris. That maybe she led me to him that day. Which I’m sure sounds very silly because these are stuffed animals I’m talking about. But I do believe there’s nothing more powerful than a well loved stuffed animal. Simply from all the love that gets put into them, you bring them to life with that love.

I’m not sure how to end this, I just wanted to share my little story about the bears I love. I hope this resonated with someone at least.

[astrokatsuki]

SUMMARY You just created life. This could help the world in so many ways! So is it selfish when you want to keep this gorgeous creation all to yourself? You made him after all.

WARNING fluff, the ending was rushed bc im so behind, choso is a cutie Frankenstein, reader is a smarty pants, not proofread

WORD FROM ARTIST I still have to do my Halloween coloring but I don’t have access to my laptop rn 0.7k+

MONSTER MASH

You’ve done it. You just created life. Granted it’s not your average human.

It’s not even human.

Staring at your creation through the plexiglass wall dividing you two, you can’t help the manic grin that spreads on your face. You just made a new life form. The only one of its kind.

The sun hasn’t risen and you haven’t slept. You have the eye bags and empty coffee cups to prove it. The only thing keeping you up is the labs fluorescent lights.

He sits up straight facing the wall infront of him with his blank, black eyes. His hair is down and covering his face, but you can see a prominent blood mark across his nose.

Does anybody know how much this can contribute to the world? But as selfish as it might sound, you want him all to yourself.

You try to reassure yourself, This isn’t being selfish. You were the one to create him, after all.

Slowly opening the door at the end of the plexiglass barrier, you walk in. You walk around the reflective table he’s idly sitting on. You’re still cautious, this only being the first time your creation actually comes alive.

Through the strands of his hair, you see his eyes stare at you. You don’t think he’s blinked once yet.

You reach up hesitant, just in case he pushed your hand away. He didn’t. Proceeding, you push his hair back and hold back a gasp at the sight.

He’s gorgeous, but you quickly push that thought to the side. You need to focus.

He needs a name. You’ve had a name in mind for a long time, waiting patiently for a successful experiment. It’s finally time to use it.

Choso.

Being honest, there’s no special meaning behind the name, but you couldn’t help but fall in love with it. And now looking at this masterpiece, the name fits him perfectly.

“What if I call you Choso?” You tilt your head to the side, analyzing him while waiting for his response. He finally blinks.

And grunts.

You didn’t expect him to be a walking encyclopedia, but it’s seems as if he can’t talk at all. You should’ve known this was going to happen.

You mentally curse.

Making sure he’s paying attention, you first make an affirmative grunt then a disagreeing grunt, signaling him to pick one. You hope he can tell the difference between the two.

It’s seems he can, he repeats the affirmative grunt you just made.

He’s catches on quickly, you internally note.

Finally leaving the lab after being cooped up in there working on Choso, he follows you to his apartment.

You did have to teach him how to walk a bit. It’s not that he couldn’t, he just looked like a baby deer every time he tried to.

You give yourself much needed rest time, and wait until the next day to start teaching him things. You need a long nap and he needs to get used to being alive.

So you let him sleep in the guest room.

Waking up, you sprawl your body out onto the bed, yawning as your limbs stretch. You quickly realize he was no longer in the guest room. He was in your room.

Sleeping straight on his back like the deceased.

He sure as hell didn’t look living to you, you scoff. He took up most of the bed, leaving you halfway off the bed with a corner of your comforter struggling to cover your shorts and tank top clad body.

You softly shake him, “Wake up.” Your morning voice coming out in a whisper.

He’s eyes snap open. It’s safe to assume he’s a light sleeper. You have to practically drag him out of bed even though he was wide awake.

Walking into the kitchen, you teach him the names of the appliances and groceries. You even tell him a little about yourself.

“I’m y/n, the scientist that created you.” You introduced yourself, speaking slowly, hoping he can understand. While talking, you make yourself busy by pulling out ingredients to make breakfast.

Instead of responding with a grunt like usual, Choso takes your hand in his pulling you closer to his body.

Your eyes widen in shock, as he pulls you to stand in between his legs as he sits on an island chair.

He embraces you in a hug, breathing in your sweet scent. A sigh escapes him as you slowly return the hug.

He hugs you tighter, letting out a possessive grunt.

[sam-loves-fnaf]

Random Story 1

Don't know what is possessing me to put this here or, well, anywhere, but either way, here, for anyone reading, have my random oc fanfic that is based on a Danganronpa OC that I RPed on Discord. One of the things we loved doing with our OCs was trying and mash them with different things, like what they would be like in an AU or different universe/fandom in general.

Also, this is from a reader's perspective, though I don't/didn't use (Y/N), and it has an excessive amount of "you's".

Universe/Fandom: The Backrooms

Character/OC used: Taku Sasaki (known as the Ultimate Babysitter as a danganronpa oc)

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

Re-write:

Getting lost in the backrooms was not a part of your agenda. It has been a while since you could see the outside; how long have you been stuck in this hell? A month? It feels like years, to be honest. You were just a random person on your way back from school, and then suddenly, you just fell; you fell and landed on some musty orange carpet in a yellow office building-looking room.

It took you a while, a long time, to get to safe places and away from dangerous beings; thankfully, though, what is highly likely to be sheer luck and determination, along with the help of some scientists who seem to be living in this hell, why? You may never know, but at least you had found a place to stop and rest.

You had learned a lot about this place, but at the same time, you have learned nothing, like the freaking exit! As you discover, it does not exist, or it's so hard to get to that it might as well not exist. So, after having a mental breakdown and passing out, you woke up with a goal: try to find the exit...or, well, die trying.

So, here you are, trying to find the mysterious exit; thanks to all the stuff you've learned, you feel like a pro backrooms explorer. It felt like you were the main character! Ooo! This would be a great horror/thriller fanfiction!

Pulling yourself back from your thoughts, you noticed you were falling. Man, this happened a lot while running through this godforsaken place; hitting the ground disoriented you, so you stayed on the ground for a while before sitting up and looking around. The new 'room' you are in looks nice. Still, it has that uncanny valley-type feel that many places have; you land on a patch of grass, and it is an empty space with blue skies and a lone house in the distance; it looks...nice and peaceful; the house looks like a great place to stay, and, looking around, there weren't any dangerous monsters, heck there weren't any monsters here at all! You didn't hear anything.

Just eerie silence, no ambiance, no random noises, you didn't hear nor see anything that may look like it wants to skin you alive twelve different times...nothing, maybe, maybe-

You could stay here, it is so peaceful.

Blinking and shaking your head, you wondered how long you were staring; getting up, you walked up to the house. As you walked, you couldn't help but feel warmth and safety, something you hadn't felt in a long while; it made you shiver. This feeling shouldn't be a feeling to have in a place like this unless it is something terrible; it has to be wrong.

But what if it is okay? Why can't you just embrace this feeling?

Just this once?

Is it so wrong?

Before you know it, you are now standing at the front of the door to the lone house; you have a feeling, something telling you to knock.

But why knock? That's weird.

You should just do it, the place looks harmless.

But that's what many of the places in this hell are like.

Why do you go around looking for an exit any way?

I want to go home.

Why do that? You are home

Knock knock

You didn't notice when but were pulled out of your thoughts by suddenly knocking, staring straight at the door. Then, footsteps, and they were getting louder, going towards the door; your eyes widened slightly as you stepped back, preparing to bolt at the sight of whatever mons-

“Ah! A new guest, come in come in!”

A voice and what sounded like a male voice said as you looked at the person or human-looking being; the man was tall and had purple hair with silver-ish grey eyes and circular glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. It reminded you of an anime character, in a way. The male smiles kindly before quickly ushering you inside, and he introduces himself as Taku. Looking around the room, you notice how homie it is. Taku is shown to be a friendly man; he lets you sit on his couch as he talks away about how happy he is to have a guest that it's been so long since he spoke to someone who isn't a child.

Child? You questioned Taku on that, and Taku answered that there are children here; he watches over them and makes sure they are safe and somewhere in the house, playing and having fun. Now that he said something, you could hear childlike voices and loud pitter-pater of feet on the ground. Though weird, for some reason, that didn't set off alarms; why?

Maybe it's because Taku is a trustworthy person?

Trustworthy? You have just met him.

Yeah, and yet he let you into his house and showed you hospitality

Why are you being so difficult?

Maybe it's right; perhaps this place is just a safe space, and you could take a moment for yourself, and that is what you did. You talked to Taku and just have moments to yourself: no running, no having to maintain sanity, no trying to survive, no worries, no anxieties, a new home, and quite possibly a new life.

Before you know it, you went to sleep.

Waking up and stretching, you had probably the best nap ever! Though this is nice, the thought makes you sad-

Sad...depressed even-

That you must inevitably leave, you called on and asked Taku about an exit; blinking behind his glasses, Taku had a surprised look.

"An exit? Oh no no no no, don't worry about that for now, come with me and eat." The tall male said, quickly and easily changing the subject. Eat? Now that you mentioned it, the house smelled of food, actual real food, something more than protein bars and almond water? Sign you up! Taku is such a nice person; it makes you wonder if anybody dropped here before and why there aren't any civilizations here like in other parts. Has anyone come here before? If so, where are they?

But what you didn't know was that you were about to meet them.

The food was great, and you had met the children he talked about. You were surprised to see about nine children there, four girls and five boys; you would think dinner would be chaotic with that many children, but they were well-behaved; it was like one big family dinner. Some of the kids even called you their new sibling; it was cute! You had begun to lose track of time staying in this place; I mean-

Why do you want to leave in the first place

It's safe here

It's nice

As you said, no monsters, no worries, no anxieties

Taku takes care of you!

The cooking, the cleaning

Just. Stay.

Maybe you are home; what does home even look like anymore? The faces of those you loved and became a backrooms explorer to see again are becoming a blur, blurred faces and muffled memories. You were pulled out of your thoughts by a hand lightly patting your head; you looked up and...

Does Taku seem taller? Now that you mentioned it, you could see over counters, but now you have to stand on your tippy-toes to see what was happening.

"What are you thinking about, my child?"

A gently asked question, so you decided to ask again about the exit; you noticed a flash of concern. The male kneels down to his knees; he didn't need to do that before, right?

"Little one, why do you worry about the exit, why go back? Don't you know how dangerous it is? Especially for a child like you."

Child? You weren't a child; you were...um, you forgot your age, actually, now that he mentioned it, you forgot many things; how did you get here again? Why were you here? What were you doing again?

Taku picks you up-.

He wasn't able to do that before-

And brings you to a room; it is a nice-looking room with a bed, bookshelf, toys, clothes, and a lot more. Sitting you on the bed, the male smiles gently, a warm and calm smile, a smile that tells you that everything is going to be alright.

"Get some sleep alright? Maybe I could read you bedtime story would you like that?"

But what about the exit?

You hummed and nodded; you like stories! With a slight chuckle, the male gets up,

"Okay, which book would you like?" He asks, showing you the books.

Wait, this feels wrong.

You chose a book, and Taku sat at the bedside and opened it.

You need to leave!

You listened to the soothing voice and lay on the soft, warm bed.

No, don't sleep!

Blinking slowly, you yawned, and slowly-

ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˣⁱᵗ﹗

You were-

ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ, ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ⁻

Gone forever.

[ripgray-moved]

Does peter get nightmares/night terrors? what are they about?

peter DOES suffer nightmare/night terrors!

this actually stems far further back than the movie's events; he starts experiencing night terrors after annie tries to set him on fire while sleepwalking.

that nightmare was obviously pretty consistent. he'd dream about being on fire, feeling terror and pain so magnified and lucid that it almost felt as if it was real. obviously, when he awoke he'd have sustained no injuries, but he'd experience almost 'hallucinatory' sensations of his skin feeling patchy/peeled, feeling sore and smelling smoke up to fifteen minutes after waking.

however, post movie events, his dreams get SO fucked up, man. paimon doesn't actually have to do anything to give him hell, this guy's so infused with trauma and terror that it makes most fucking vets look like they just went for a stroll in a flowery meadow. they're somewhat predictable in one fashion and one fashion only, that being that he dreams of his family; of charlie's accident, of his mom's possession/suicide; of his father's burnt corpse. however, that's where the predictability ends.

peter has ALL SORTS of horrific nightmares, but the two most prominent ones are:

his father's burnt corpse is animated and shambling towards him, almost like a zombie. peter winds up hitting him with something (the object differs, he simply picks up whatever his mind manifests for the dream; it's been a baseball bat, a poker, a pool cue, a mantle clock, etc etc). his head detaches. peter hunches over to regain his breath. when he stands back up, steve's corpse, now complete with charlie's head, is standing very close to him. the blue light that he now knows to be paimon in a realm that can't support his heinous physical form enters it, and the corpse gains the hostility of his possessed mother. it chases him relentlessly until he awakens. on good nights, he evades the creature; on others, it catches him and he dies a number of painful deaths (though they're all to do with things that have traumatised him. there was one where he was essentially beaten to death by having his face repeatedly mashed into the steering wheel of his car until he sustains enough blunt force trauma to just. succumb to his injuries. in another, he is drowned with paint thinner. his possessed mom holds the bottle to his lips and simply refuses to stop pouring it. it's clearly endless, doesn't follow the physics of the bottle at all).

he wakes up (in his dream) to find this horrific amalgamation of all three of his family members kind of 'glued' together and infused with his ceiling. the creature is hung directly over his bed, long gangly arms extended towards him, low moaning voices all fighting to talk over one another, ask him why, tell him how much pain they're in. peter wants to get out of bed but finds he can't move. the dream ends when the 'family monster' gradually separates from his ceiling and lands on top of him, effectively smothering him to death. though this one sounds far tamer than the one above, it actually affects peter much more deeply. there's a sense of looming dread and inevitability to the 'family monster' dream that really fucks him up. he's also not too stupid to know exactly what his brain is telling him about this one. that his family always made him feel suffocated, and yet he misses the feeling of drowning almost as much as he misses just being 'a worthless loser' before the car crash.

[mywifeleftme]

195: Run the Jewels // Run the Jewels

Run the Jewels Run the Jewels 2013, Fool's Gold

Even as someone who was very hyped for this monster mash album to drop back in 2013, I could’ve used El-P and Killer Mike’s chances at becoming mainstream music stars as a creative simile for extreme remoteness. Run the Jewels started life as a Watch the Throne joke—e.g. while you pay obeisance to the supposed kings, we’re behind them jacking their shit. The name seemed right: any time you put Mike on a pop-adjacent track, he sounded too brash, too angry to fit the scheme, whereas El-P probably scanned to most listeners as like, Comic-Con Bubba Sparxxx or something. It remains bizarre to contemplate that El-P’s original crew, Company Flow, released their groundbreaking Funcrusher EP a year before Jay-Z’s Reasonable Doubt, and Mike had been OutKast’s war dog since the turn of the century. In other words, these were two rapper’s rappers who made a living on rhymes but didn’t seem likely to have say great prospects of retiring comfortably.

It just goes to show what a creative release strategy (Run the Jewels dropped for free at a time when that concept still had some novelty) and an absolute banger record can do for ya. After years of ambitious, CD-stuffing projects by both men, Run the Jewels is a trim 33-minute object lesson in the power of elite shit-talking. Ten years on their particular chemistry is fixed enough to be fondly roasted, but at the time I’d never heard either man rap as freely, or hilariously, as they did here. Some particularly treasured bars:

Woo, they done let that fuckin' Mike out It's like Tyson in the '80s Nigga snap and punch your lights out, yeah It's like Tyson in the '90s, if I'm losing, take a bite out I'm so motherfuckin' grimy, so motherfuckin' greedy, gritty Mama said she couldn't breastfeed 'cause I was bitin' at the titty — Mike

Yo, Killer Mike and El-P, fuck boys, think about it Fuck you gonna sell me? You don't know a thing about us Women dosed with ayahuasca drum circle and sing about us Dolphins prone to rape'll hear the tape and stop to think about it Monks will immolate themselves until the record hits the shelves Yetis walk right out the woods to cop it without thinkin' bout it Workers at the sweatshop kill they boss to how the vets drop Worker ants surround their queen and chew the bitch's head off Drug dogs bark at the tour bus when it park Priests take the cock out of their mouths To hum along when the chorus drop — El-P

It's time for Skywalker talkers t’meet the true Darth Vader I hit your mom in '03, but a G ain't ate her So baby boy, you should tighten up and show some respect Before I Melvin on you, Jody, put my arm on your neck Or worse yet, be the reason your girl want a divorce Be at her crib with your kids saying ‘Fuck your fort, lil' nigga!’ — Mike

Born to the next-gen system Slow water drip to the temple to live in a prison When the walls don't appear to your vision One floor down from that mall's that prison Where shower stalls'll get all y'all missin' Pardon me, I got half-wit vision But fuck I know? I just crawled here, cap'n — El-P

I'm fat but I dress nice, and bitches finesse Mike They suck the dick and squeeze on my belly like bagpipes — Mike

I'ma smoke 'til the planet erases Build a white flag out of Zig Zags, wave it — El-P

And so on. Alongside El-P’s signature production, limber and consistently knocking, it is the sheer “What will they say next?” pleasure of two elite battle rappers trading the mic back and forth (something that doesn’t happen on Watch the Throne as often as you might remember) that scratched the deep itch of boom-bap-bro nation. Over three more excellent LPs to date, they’ve expanded their sound and skewed ever more topical, but RTJ have never abandoned the template that made them unlikely stars. And for my money at least, it’s this first one that best stands the test of time.

195/365

[hyuccubus]

Happy STS! Seasons are changing. Tell me how one or more of your characters would react. Are they dressing cozy? Obsessed with everything pumpkin? Have they been prepping for Halloween since last year?

Whew, many characters to dream up feelings about this. Sounds like fun, though! All the characters are from Target Practice

Swift: It's been a while since Swift got invested in the spirit of the season. He's not a curmudgeon, he just longs for the most important aspect of the holidays; a complete, happy, content family. He's more of a "go with the flow" sort of celebrator over the course of the novel as it happens. "Oh, you're making hot chocolate? I'd love a cup. No, no, don't bring it over, I'll get up." "Oh, we're carving pumpkins? No, I know I didn't bring one, I'll just watch everyone else. Here, let me get your pumpkin guts out of the way." "Oh, we're decorating for Halloween? I'll get up on the ladder to put up the spider webs." He has a habit of giving himself the undesirable tasks, on the one hand to make sure no one else gets it, but also so everyone knows he's reliable.

(I understand you, Swift)

Patches: Oh my GOD there's so much to do, we have to take in every single aspect of this season while it's around, we can actually be outside most of the day and not want to die! We gotta stop by that food stall that only opens during the autumn in the park, they have those pumpkin spice cake pops!!! Plays in the park auditorium at dusk, community trick or treat events, Rocky Horror Picture Show midnight screenings! THE WORLD IS OUR OYSTER!

Ira: Ira would rather die than admit this to present company, but she adores the holidays. Like a metronome, she has drifted from one pole to the other due to past traumas. She will suppress holiday cheer in order to avoid the disappointment that comes with knowing she can't celebrate them with her birth family, but about a week before the big day, she'll swing to the other extreme, guzzling hot toddies and making spooky ghost cookies, forcing the entire group to share ghost stories (much to Specs and Rat's chagrin). She can't help herself.

Lumo: Lumo's all about tradition. It can seem like he's limiting his fun to an itinerary, but structure is fun to him.

"We're decorating cookies at 11, then we're going to the pumpkin patch at 2:00 to pick one that we like, and the appointment is at two sharp, so we're leaving at 1:15, and then when we get back, we're going to carve them right away, 'cause otherwise they'll just be sitting around. I have a playlist I've already made, all the greats, Monster Mash, Flying Purple People Eater, the classics. Then we'll roast the seeds, which will be done in time for a double feature of Nightmare Before Christmas and Wendell and Wild, and it's going to be amazing and no one is going to complain."

Gharial: Gharial, like the eternal cinnamon bun he be, gets into the Halloween spirit the moment the first leaf changes color. Pumpkin spice lattes, sweaters, watching Hocus Pocus on repeat, and tormenting Rat with matching costume ideas. Families might change, but holidays are always there, and rather than live in the past, Gharial prefers the prospect of making new memories with the people he loves right now.

Rat: Guys, can't we slow down with the decorations?

...I didn't say I didn't want to help put them up.

Specs: Wake me up on Halloween night. I am dressing as Oracle from Batman. That is all.

Bruja: The perfect celebration buddy. Down for whatever, whenever. Haunted Forest? I'm gonna make the chainsaw clown laugh. Hayride? I'll bring the blankets! Movie marathon? I've already got popcorn in the microwave. Since Specs and Bruja are together so often, Specs is often along for the ride, though it's less to do with the spirit of the season than it is the blood of the covenant.

Thanks for the ask, Tori! Even after ten years, I'm learning new things about my characters every day.