#I'm not much of a risk taker but this is exactly the type of way I would enjoy playing with fire lol

[nerdy-talks]

Kitty Cat Lucifer has me curious about one thing :

Do you think Satan wanted to film this for blackmail AND because he found Lucifer's kitty-talk cute?

Personally, I think so ( ≖ ᴗ ≖ )

Bring it on, Mr. GrumpyPants lol

[sweetminx]

Hi hi! It be me again bringing the second chapter of Ghost of Haddonfield. I already had these two written on my Google docs hence the quick succession to my first chapter release. This chapter is finally getting into some tense shenanigans, since I didn't want the first chapter to drone on for so long that people got bored because I'm exactly the type who wants to see the good stuff right away.

Again, a quick warning that this chapter is a bit gruesome so just keep it in mind if you've got a weak stomach some of the details might not be for you. Anyways! Enjoy! Lemme know if you want to be tagged.

Universe/Fandom: Halloween 1978 (Non-RZ) Rating: Mature/Adult. Minors keep your distance. Chapters: 2/? Chapter Triggers/Warnings: Strong language, Strong depictions of violence/gore, death, Angst. Overall themes: Tension, Drama, Slow burn, Abuse, Strong Language, Past trauma, Manipulation, Strong depictions of Violence/Gore, Phsycological/ Physical trauma, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Mental Illness, Murder, Romance, Angst, Loss, Death, Comfort, Mild humour, Romance, Friendship, Fluff, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, Non-con themes, Knifeplay, Stalking, Marking, Obsessive/Posessive behaviour, Choking, Explicit Sexual content. Reader details: Female, first-person perspective. Characters: Female reader, Michael Myers (Non-RZ), Samuel Loomis, Laurie Strode, Jed Perkins (Non-canon OC), Jamie Harris (Non-canon OC), Parker Reed (Non-canon OC), Josh Hewit (Non-canon OC), Erin White (Non-canon OC)

Ghost of Haddonfield: Chapter two

The plain doors to the towering castle of a building swing open violently as you come barreling through it hurriedly, finding the check-in desk unmanned which was completely out of the norm and under normal circumstances would pose as a major breach of security protocols. The hallway has as much personality as the rest of the hospital. The floor is slate grey and the walls dove. Above the ceiling is made from those polystyrene squares laid on a grid-like frame. The light is too bright for your eyes after the darkening gloom outside, you find it abrasive, enough perhaps to bring on one of your migraines. There are commercial prints on the wall, tasteful in a dull kind of way which you'd ignored for most of your long working hours. The place certainly isn't run by risk-takers and you guess you should find comfort in that. Above every door you pass is a large plastic sign, dark with white lettering- no fancy fonts, just bold and all-caps. It's so new and spotless you feel like the whole building must have just gotten beamed here from some-place dirt is outlawed. 

You whip your head around in every direction as you scuttle down long corridors, peeking into rooms in search of your colleagues before finally hearing the distant and slightly muffled raised voices from down the hall on the other side of the visitation room, approaching it and pushing the door open to investigate the commotion. You're greeted by the sight of Jamie and several security guards seemingly having a yelling competition with one another, both raising their voices in frustration back and forth about 'incompetence', 'utter negligence' and how it wasn't so and so's fault. You scowl at the screaming men who still hadn't noticed your presence cautiously lingering in the doorway. By now you'd grown tired of listening to the voices of childish men, feeling your blood beginning to boil in silent rage, the spring of your patience finally snapping in an instant as you roar over the men in a voice that would make any man flinch and cower in fear. The whole room falls deathly silent almost instantaneously, several sets of eyes widening in utter astonishment from the monstrous yell you'd released to shut them up. 

"Are you idiots done bickering like children?" You seethe, pure venom dripping from your tone as you scowl at every single one of them. "I'm here just like I was requested. I shouldn't be because tonight was supposed to be my night off, but here I am. Now, if you'd be so kind, start explaining or so help me-"

"It's Michael," one of the guards, Jed, interrupts, his expression cold and reserved. "The bastard's gone awol. I'm sayin' utterly batshit crazy."

You pierce him with a stern yet questioning glare, quirking a quizzical brow. "Michael? As in Michael Myers?" 

"Yes, as in Michael fuckin' Myers. That phsyco fuck has already murdered two of my men tonight and one of the inmates since your shift ended hours ago."

Your blood turns to ice, the scowl fading into that of deep concern. What the hell would've caused him to go into a sudden fit of rage? In the couple of years you'd worked in Smith's Grove it was a common occurance to find distressed patients attempting to harm themselves or cause an absolute ruckus, but few ever really attempted to genuinely kill any of the staff. You've never been given the opportunity to read Michael's patient file as it was a highly classified case alongside few others. The instructions you were given when initially taking the job were crystal clear, keep a safe distance away from him when performing daily duties involving the inmate, keep conversation to a minimum, never approach his cell without at least one guard, never enter his cell with fewer than two guards and lastly, never mention his past. It seemed strangely convenient how a position opened up to be his personal nurse soon after you began working there, finding that Loomis offered you the spot rather hesitantly. One small detail bugged you though, and that was the fact that the previous nurse who tended to Michael was strangely never mentioned or talked about again, nobody said where she went afterwards. 

You swallow anxiously, licking at your lips and pulling your attention back to Jamie who stood idly with his hands at his sides. "Where is he now? How did this happen?" You ask. 

"Josh and Erin, for Christ knows why, felt that it would be funny to taunt him and talk about Judith through his cell door after inspection," Jamie states, glaring over at the thin, disheveled guard beside him. "Problem was that his food hatch was still left open at the time and that was all the lucky bastard needed to swipe the keys from those two morons." He jabs a finger in Jed's direction. "This idiot is responsible for not informing those dimwits about who they were dealing with." 

Jed grabs Jamie by the collar of his shirt and yanks him close to his reddening face as he winds up to throw a punch but several of the other staff are quick to tear him away even through the barking of a string of profanities. He rips his arms out of their grasp, glaring and jabbing a finger at Jamie's chest. "I told them to watch 'emselves!" He snarls in his face. "Wasn't my fault they went off spouting some shit 'bout his dead whore of a sister."

"That's exactly the type of behaviour that got them killed!" Jamie roars. "I wonder where the hell they got that from huh?"

You grimace as the vile words leave the guards mouth, visually disgusted and disturbed but trying to brush it off. "Where are they now?"

"Dead. Sunofabitch broke Josh's neck with his bare fuckin' hands. I dunno 'bout Erin. The tall lunkin' bastard is still skulkin' around in the ward. We managed to get it closed off to just a couple of rooms so he can't go wanderin' around anywhere else no more."

"And where the hell is Loomis in all of this?" You ask, folding your arms across your chest uncomfortably upon noticing the eyes of Jed lingering upon your torso for a disgraceful amount of time. 

Jamie shakes his head. "He left the office hours ago. Said he had business to tend to, but I couldn't reach him. His phone just keeps ringing."

Of course the one time that he's needed is when he's not available. The only person Michael saw on a near daily basis was you, his personal nurse, for two straight years. Over that time you'd still known very little about the man other than the public knowledge of his victims. One of the unspoken rules around him was to avoid looking at his face. It was a common circulating rumour among staff that those who dared to gaze upon his face would soon thereafter succumb to his wrath, his 'curse' as they called it, hunting them to the ends of the earth to take the life of those who dared to look evil in the eyes. Whether it was real or just a myth mattered not with the current situation at hand and would remain to be a mystery for the time being. The only person who might've stood a chance at calming Michael down and convincing him to return to his cell, was you. 

"I'll go," you blurt after a moment of careful consideration. Jamie and Jed snap their heads in your direction, a total look of horror plastered on your concerned colleague's face. He shakes his head, opening his mouth to retort but falling silent as you interrupt. "Michael knows me. So I should be the one to go."

Jamie frowns. "You can't be serious. Are you insane?"  

You offer him a sincere yet hesitant smile, a delicate kindness glinting within the soft earthy tones of wet pebbles and deep forest greens entwined with the smoothest flecks of rich gold caramel. You lean towards him, outstretching your hand to ruffle his short, silky blonde locks of hair  playfully. "No more insane than anyone else in this madhouse. If I don't come back then I guess you can have Milo."

His frown falters for a brief second, taken aback by the humour in your strangely calm response before pulling away from your hand but sneaking in a lighthearted smile. Jamie had already been working at the Sanitarium long before you entered the scene, though he'd always held a typically warm and playful disposition around you that never failed to brighten even the most miserable of days. 

"Here, you'll probably be needing this," he adds, handing you a slim black two way radio. "In the event something happens you can reach me through it." Jamie points to a couple of buttons on the handheld device. "This button here is to mute or unmute the sound completely, this one will transmit your voice so long as you're holding it, the rest aren't important. Got it?"

You take the radio and slip it into one of the pockets of your nurse's uniform, nodding at him and turning to head towards the nearby patient ward where Michael was supposedly free roaming, but Jed catches your arm in a firm grip before you can leave. 

"Woah there sweetheart you'll be needin' some company down there all by your lonesome."

You shoot him a nasty glare of disapproval from his sudden manhandling of you, trying to pull your arm from his clutch only to be squeezed tighter. "I don't need company. I don't want to make the situation worse by bringing someone Michael associates with violence."

Jed narrows his eyes at you, leaning in uncomfortably close until you could feel his vile breath beating against your skin, flinching back in response. His voice is deathly calm, squeezing the flesh of your bicep painfully tight between his fingers before you're finally able to wrench it out of his grasp. "I wasn't askin'..."

"Fine. Just...don't cause trouble. I'm trying to calm him down, not agitate him more."

"You got it, Sweet Cheeks," he hums in a sickeningly sweet tone that nauseated you to the core, only made worse after he winks then struts off towards the cordoned off ward with a repulsive grin that sat under his wiry dark mustache. 

You flash one last worried smile in Jamie's direction before scurrying off in pursuit of Jed who was already at the opposite end of the connecting corridor in front of a large white metal gate and fumbling around in his pockets for the large metal ring of keys that jingled every time he took a step. He extracts it from his pocket and flips each one over, taking a brief second to examine the label on the backsides before finally finding the right one. The key slides into the lock with ease, following up with a loud click as it turns; metal grating against metal as the reinforced iron bars slide open and slam shut again, listening as Jed relocks it behind you. 

You peer down the long corridors of endless white, having seen it at least a thousand times, but this time it felt different, as if they stretched on for miles like something straight out of a cartoon. 

The hallway has as much personality as the interstate. It's a thoroughfare for personnel with patients as parcels. The reflective tiling leads onwards past identical doorways edged in grey and the walls simply grow from the floor and stretch upward to the matching ceiling. It is a place of sickness, a place to be forgotten slowly after the initial shock of admittance. After that, it's a slow slide to the morgue, where sallow eyes of drugged or otherwise blank-minded patients tilted toward a sun that remains stubbornly on the wrong side of the dirty window panes of each small cell, the bare walls and bare floors as reflections of what the place really is, as if the building itself was trying to tell staff what they had built and perpetuated. Then there were the windowless rooms for those that were deemed undeserving or untreatable, the lack of real light, the few doors without handles... it was the world's most obviously constructed metaphor for emotional indifference. 

Smith's Grove Sanitarium was marked by the coming of bland, oversalted meals and the brain numbing medications. Never was there anything good, anything that would lift the spirits. The only freedom was fetching a drink in the plastic cups or gazing upon the large bulky TV in the 'lounge' that only ever played childish cartoons. On clear days there was the exception of allowing patients to idle outside in the fenced-off grounds; towering barbed wire fences being the only separation between them and freedom of the real world. There was status in being able to wear one's own clothes, for the masses wandered the wide corridors in pyjamas - faces wiped clean by the medications. The furniture that wasn't hard plastic frayed at the edges and always there were the violent patients to steer clear of, or those that harboured grudges for obscure reasons. 

Perched on the end of a stray medical gurney was an old lady from over the hall, rocking back and forth. In her gnarled hands was the figurine from home, the only thing her husband had gotten past security months ago. Jamie knew of it but had kept quiet to save staff from another tantrum. He'd put it in their daughter's sippy cup and filled it with berry juice at the time and no-one was getting that away from her. She'd been disappointed to finish it earlier than usual but happy to find mother's "angel" at the bottom. The old woman turned to you and Jed who were cautiously approaching and spoke with the voice of a petulant child, "Finders keepers, losers weepers!" Then she turned back to the angel and stroked it again, giggling to herself. Jed glances at the old lady with a mild look of disgust as he passes her, peeking around doorways and into the barren white cells of patients on the loose. He motions down the hall to the right, exactly where Michael's cell is situated. Trailing a few steps behind his cautious posture, the two of you round the corner, and the sight you're greeted by is enough to imprint itself into your mind for years to come, throwing your hands over your mouth to stifle a horrified cry. 

Josh's lifeless body hung from the cell door like some messed up Halloween decoration, lengths of blood drenched white sheets tied around his completely disfigured neck which was twisted and bent back so severely it was as if a column of extra vertebrae was poking out unnaturally from the flesh. His half lidded eyes stared forward into the abyss whilst his jaw hung open, void of his tongue and broken away from his skull, only held together by mangled connecting cheek tissue. 

Streaks of light red and deep crimson smeared the walls of Michael's cell with traces of bloody dribbles splattered across an empty mattress and desk, noting the deep fractured indents in parts of the wall and furniture supposedly where a violent struggle had occurred. 

"Jesus fuckin' christ," Jed mutters under his breath, staring in horror at the scene. His breathing becomes ragged and unsteady as he runs a trembling hand through his scruffy brown hair and turns his back to the grisly display. "I knew that sunofabitch was twisted but by God I didn't think he was this messed up. It's always the silent ones."

You keep your back turned, not daring to take another glance at the grotesque scene. Warm salted beads of tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall and wet the supple skin of your cheeks and biting back a sob lingering somewhere near the back of your throat. You sniff sharply and drag the back of your hand across your eyes roughly, blinking the damp residue away before taking a trembling breath and pointing to a trail of bloody shoe prints that lead across into a separate small hallway. 

Jed and you follow them carefully, eyeing the occasional spatter of red staining the floor in large reflective beads. The trail leads into a small nearby break room where staff could sit and chat whilst eating lunch or having a smoke. Your eyes widen at the sight of Erin slumped onto his back against the flimsy wooden cabinets in the corner, his breathing strained and shallow as he clutches at his stomach through his crimson stained white shirt in a pool of his own blood, covered in beads of salted sweat that stuck messy locks of dirty blonde hair to his forehead. He whimpers weakly, reaching out his blood soaked hand as you rush over to his side, kneeling beside him and swallowing harshly before taking his hand tightly within your own to offer some reassurance. Erin tries to sit up, but a blood curdling cry erupts from his mouth halfway through, slumping down against you. Your hand comes to his shoulders, adjusting him so that his head rests gently within your lap so he looks up at you, stroking your thumb over his forehead and offering him a pained smile. He was a complete mess and clinging on for dear life. 

The entire room was chaotic, as if a bomb had gone off. The cheap wooden table in the centre of the room was completely upturned and thrown to the side alongside the remnants of plastic chairs discarded like mere children's toys. The floor was covered in shattered ceramic plates and glasses with the doors of cupboards hanging from their frail metal hinges. 

Erin coughs, spitting blood and hissing as a wave of pain surges through his frame. Your fingers continue to stroke over his paling skin, wiping away the sticky strands of sweat drenched hair from his eyes. "H-He went in-to a m-mad rage," he stammered, the fluorescent tube lighting reflecting in his glassy eyes. "Am..I g-gonn-a die?" His heavy eyes search for your own, a silent request for the horrible truth. You shake your head frantically, shushing him in a featherlight tone still stroking the young boy's face. But the look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. 

"Where is Michael?" Jed asks sternly, slowly approaching the two of you on the floor. 

You whip your head in his direction, a total look of disgust that he'd really just asked a dying boy that question rather than being more concerned with comforting him during his last few agonising moments. "Jed." You hiss venomously. You didn't know Erin well, having only interacted with him on a few occasions during break time and he didn't seem to be all that bad of a kid but noticeably picked up bad habits from those around him in an attempt to fit in. On this rare occasion, he was unfortunate enough to be present to piss off the wrong person. 

"I'm sorry but we don't got time to sit around mournin' the loss of people right now. Do you understand what the hell is at stake here, girl? If that man gets out we are all in big shit and there'll be a hell of a lot more than those two boys to grieve over."

"Are you hearing yourself right now?!" You bark at him. "He's eighteen!"

"And I'm the ripe fuckin' age of thirty-two and I'm tellin' you right now I sure as shit don't plan on goin' gentle into that good goddamn night any time soon, y'hear me?"

Erin splutters violently in your lap, desperately clinging to your hands that brushed over his face. He whimpers at the slightest of movements, squeezing his teary eyes shut for a moment. "M-mask," he croaks out between shallow, pained breaths. "Per-sona-l b-belong-ings r-oom."

Jed scrunches his face in thought, trying to better understand the boy through slurred and garbled phrases. "Are you telling me he's there?" 

Erin swallows harshly, weakly nodding in response to his question. "H-He's loo-king f-for his m-ask. Gon-na c-come bac-k soon."

You can feel Erin's grip of you loosening as he struggles to finish his sentence, gasping for air in between words. Everytime his body spasms with a fit of coughing a steady stream of fresh blood trickles from the horrifically large lacerations in his stomach and side, soaking your once pristine white uniform a rich shade of Ruby. It didn't gush in a constant flow, but in time with the beating of Erin's heart. At first it came thick and strong, flowing through his fingers as they clasped the ripped flesh. He felt the blood move over his hand, the thick fluid no warmer or cooler than his own skin. After a few moments more the blood was still leaving his rapidly paling flesh, but the pulses were slower, weaker.

There was nothing you could do at this point to stop his bleeding, nothing that would make the pain stop until his heart eventually stopped beating and his veins emptied from blood loss. 

The very least you could do was stay by his side until the inevitable happened. 

A loud clatter down the hall startles you, ripping your attention away as you frantically look back and forth between your colleague, the door and Erin. Jed peeks from the doorway before abruptly leaning down and grabbing the collar of your dress and yanking you out from beneath the boy and up to your feet. "We need to move. Michael's comin'," he growls, snatching your arm again and inches towards the doorway only to be met with your defiant resistance. 

"We can't just leave him here!" You answer, wrenching your arm from his grasp and stumbling back down to Erin but Jed is far stronger, ripping you away from him for the final time, struggling to keep you still. Erin let out a string of pained sobs, clutching at his abdomen.

"You can't help him! He's gonna die regardless! If you don't move your ass now we'll all end up dead. I will drag you out of here by your goddamn hair if I have to."

As difficult as it was to admit, there was a sickening truth in his words. Nothing could help Erin at this point and If you stayed for much longer you'd end up suffering the same fate as Josh. Your stomach is churning, mind screaming and your eyes shedding those cursed warm streams of salted tears as you glance down at Erin on the floor, a final regretful sob fleeing your lips and mouthing a silent 'I'm sorry' before Jed pulls you from the room and towards the vacant and untouched cell opposite. Erin's voice breaks as he calls out to the two of you weakly, pleading and sobbing uncontrollably for you to come back and not let him die alone. 

He hauls you into the empty cell, partially pushing closed the heavy metal door and pulling you into the corner to clamp a large hand over your mouth to stifle your sobs, whispering gentle hushed words to you. The two of you grow silent, listening to the pad of footsteps approaching, finally stopping just outside of the break room. Erin begins to cry and yell out frantically, turning into the most horrendous blood curdling screams to ever have greeted your senses, they were  primal. It had a raw intensity to it that told of urgency, of desperate need. Loud crashing and shattering echoes through the halls for a solid few moments, then a gurgled retch followed by a sickening crack and finally a heavy thump. 

The screaming stops. 

The words would forever come to haunt you in years to come, plaguing you in your sleep as a reminder that you let an innocent young boy die at the hands of Michael Myers.

For a few moments you linger in back breaking silence, in an atmosphere so strained and brittle that it felt like it could snap in an instant. Your eyes moved with the alertness that comes from heavy stress and trembling hands remained clenched by subconscious demand, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the beating rhythm of your racing heart. The overwhelming urge to vomit was becoming extreme from your senses overloading with the pungent, coppery scent of blood and antiseptic blurring into one. Jed holds you against him, your back pressed tightly against his chest with his hand still clamped firmly over your mouth. His chest rises and falls in quick, ragged breaths before slowly letting his palm fall away from your face that glistened with beads of sweat and dried tears. Prying yourself away from him, you gasp for a desperate breath of air and  cling to the wall for support as it was the only thing to keep your knees from completely buckling beneath you. 

"Why is he doing this…?" 

Jed watches you with unblinking brown eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows silently. "You tell me. You're his carer ain'tcha?"

"T-that doesn't mean I understand the inner workings of his mind. I'm not psychic, Jed."

Jed inches towards the cell door, practically shoving you aside to peek from the small grated window in it. He steps back after a moment of tilting his head from side to side through the opening, sighing and angling his head in your direction in the slightest. There's an uncanny sense of contemplation that lurks deep within that piercing gaze that you can't fully comprehend; as if he's reading you, studying you, digging through heaps of conflicted thoughts and piecing something together like a puzzle within his mind. Jed's breath slows, almost stilling before he finally blinks and sets his jaw, clenching faintly yellowed teeth together and flexing his fists by his sides. 

Something about his disposition made you uneasy. Jed always made you uncomfortable with his inappropriate remarks and gestures, often overhearing him behaving in a vile manner around patients, but you'd never seen him in such deep thought. 

"Come on," he utters after breaking his gaze and pushing open the door gently and peeking around the corner one final time before stepping back out into the open corridor. "We're gonna need more assistance."

You follow him into the open hallway cautiously, fearful eyes rapidly jumping to each empty doorway in the hopes no unwelcome company was lurking. "What the hell are you going to accomplish with that?" You hiss at him, offering a skeptical glare. "For all we know he could be waiting for us at the gates."

"That monster ain't got a single thought rollin' around in that thick fuckin' skull of his other than killing. He don't understand shit. He don't got a plan because he ain't that fuckin' smart."

"You don't kno-"

"You ain't about to tell me that I don't know shit, girl," Jed snarls, whipping his head around at you with a glare so cold it almost made you flinch. "Tell me, if you think he's so damn smart why doesn't he just come out now and make this pointless game of hide and seek come to a quick end? If he were that smart he'd know this little game ends with him getting locked back up to rot, right where the fuck he belongs. I'll do what's necessary for Josh and Erin." 

There it was, again. A hint of something so obscure and puzzling in the man's gait, enough to send you back stepping a couple of paces just in case. Was it the tone? Or the stance perhaps? The bitter piercing coldness in his eyes? Was it the way his fingertips brushed against the baton on his hip? You can't put a finger on it, but brushing the unease aside was all that you could do right now. 

You follow him down the seemingly empty corridors again, the opposite direction from where Erin and Josh faced their horrible demise. Erin mentioned that Michael had been looking for the personal belongings room, a small and inconspicuous storage section off to the side of the ward where only certain personnel were allowed in and out of, including Doctor Loomis, whom you'd witnessed entering only a small handful of times when he'd left the comfort of his office where he resided most of his days for hours on end. It's always intrigued you to know just what was hidden so very protectively within. Jed walked with a slight stiffness in his step, the sound of his keys jingling from his pocket as he reached in to take hold of them, but he pauses, his eyes widening in surprise at the scene.

The door was completely destroyed and smashed through, chips and jagged shards of the flimsy  wood laying scattered about the bloodied tile flooring in the doorway. A single lone light bulb  flickered eerily from the ceiling, doing little to light the room. Inside mimicked the chaos to what you found in the break room, laying in absolute disarray. Metal filing cabinets containing hundreds of past and present confidential patient records were strewn about the room, metal closet doors ripped from their hinges and tipped over, except for one. The worn paper label on the front of the battered cabinet read a name, scribbled in messy black marker and stained with recent thin streaks of red. 

Michael Audrey Myers.

Any questions to whether or not Michael had truly found the room were quickly answered. Nobody else was capable of this level of destruction. 

"Fuck," Jed utters behind you, stepping into the room and glancing around at the destruction whilst kicking aside debris and haphazardly strewn folders before finally reaching the same cabinet your attention was focused on. "Well shit he's one destructive and persistent bastard." He rummages around the drawer, finding dribbles of fresh blood smeared and leaked onto his patient record and the empty plastic evidence bags, ripped apart with ease to get to the contents within. 

You anxiously eye your visibly distressed colleague, flinching when he roars a string of profanities beside you and slams his fist into the cabinet with a loud metallic clatter. He sighs, rubbing a palm over his face. 

"What was in here?" You ask with some hesitation, picking up one of the torn plastic bags and peering at it curiously.

"Everythin' that the police repossessed after his arrest and admittance here years ago. Loomis demanded that he be allowed the rights to keep them for reasons that he never disclosed. That creepy fuckin' mask, some mechanics overalls and a kitchen knife," Jed explains, turning away from the cabinet and leaning his weight against it to take a breather. "I don't know how he knew where to find it."

Your eyes scan through the drawer again, pushing aside scraps of paperwork before pulling out Michael's patient record and flipping open the yellowing pages gently and briefly examining them. Paragraphs of written psychological assessments and details about his behaviour starting on October 31st; The exact same day that he murdered Judith. There wasn't much in the file that you didn't already know about, but one sentence in particular stood out. "I do," you mumble softly, still staring at the paragraphs of messy writing. Jed quirks a brow in your direction silently, his eyes flicking back and forth from the folder in your hands to your unreadable expression. 

"What?" He asks. 

"He's got some sort of...Supernatural connection to the mask," you add as you squint at the small photos in the corners of the page depicting him wearing the mask and the mask placed on an empty table adorning tiny crimson droplets of blood splattered across the ghostly white latex cheeks. 

Jed snorts and snatches the folder from your hands as he shakes his head dismissively and tosses the folder to the ground along with the messy piles of other discarded, torn records. "Supernatural my ass. He's just some messed up freak who gets off to hurtin' others. He is evil. Do you know what grows the seed of evil, girl? Emotional indifference. And I'm tellin' you there is nothin' in that man. Absolutely nothin'."

Michael was a peculiar case much like many other residents in Smith's Grove. He wasn't the first and he certainly would not be the last. In the two years of tending to him, he'd never spoken a single word to you nor anyone else, exactly as Loomis had claimed prior to your arrival. You hadn't even seen his face. The only thing audible whenever you stepped into his cell was the quiet whir of the small air vent, and the rare sound of him breathing in the corner where he always remained facing away as he idled in the chair beside his desk where only the back of his head was visible; adorning dark, soft boyish curls. It was believed that he stopped speaking the night he butchered Judith in her own room, having stabbed her a total of seventeen times and mutilating her corpse long after she'd died. 

"Then how the hell do you explain how he found it here without ever being told?"

He pauses, piercing you with an icy, narrow stare, watching with such intensity you thought he might just burst a blood vessel. It was identical to the look he'd shown earlier, momentarily pulling at something in the back of your mind. Jed remains utterly silent; his Adam's apple bouncing up and then down as he swallows. The silence is more than enough to answer your question. 

"That's what I thought," you utter blandly and shove past him, bumping his shoulder purposefully as you exit the room and back out into the cool, wide hallway and begin reaching for the radio tucked away discreetly in your breast pocket. You flip up the thin black antenna and hold the device close to your mouth but a cruel hand is swift to slap it out of your hand with a harsh strike. It flies from your palm, clattering to the ground loudly; the blood chilling noise echoing throughout the ward. Your eyes snap open, wide in alarm and gawking at the radio laying in pieces on the floor; not completely destroyed but undeniably damaged. You approach it but before you can reach down to pick up the pieces, it's too late. Jed shoves you aside and brings his black leather boot down onto it with a violent stomp, instantly crushing it and any remaining hope of it still functioning. You stare at it wide eyed, feeling the blood within your veins turn to ice. 

"What the hell are you doing!?" You shriek frantically as you stagger back against the wall. 

"I'm sorry darlin'," Jed mutters, that same expression on his face. "I can't let you do that." 

Then, you truly realise what it is. What that tone is. What that expression is; It's guilt. Blatant, shameful guilt. He's been silently weighing up his options in his mind from the moment he laid eyes upon Josh whom Michael had purposely strung up like a morbid ornament on his door. It wasn't because Michael felt artistic, no. It was far more than that. It was a message. A message to Jed. A message that specifically targeted those boys under Jed's care silently taunting him 'You reap what you sow,' and sow the consequences of his actions, he will. Michael knew what he was doing and it was personal from the beginning.

It's his promise of saying 'This'll be you, so you best start running.'

Taglist: @randomyklol

[bnhaficsforthesoul]

Shinsou, Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kaminari Soulmate AU

Shinsou

A time frame where you are near your soulmate is repeated until you meet them

"And the winner is... Midoriya Izuku!!!"

Present Mics voice rang through the stadium as Deku stood in the ring, staring at the boy he was fighting

A purple haired boy, named Shinsou something

You stared at him as he angrily walked off the stage, and as he paused while he listened to his classmates cheer him on

You felt bad for him, something in his eyes told you this match meant a lot to him

You thought about going down to talk to him, but then Ochako grabbed your arm

"Deku won! I'm so glad!"

Deciding to continue watching the fights instead, you sat back in your seat

"And the winner is... Midoryia Izuku!!!"

Present Mics voice rang throughout the stadium as Deku stood in the - Shinsou looked upset...

He stomped off of the stage, only stopping when his class mates cheered for him

People seemed to be cheering for Deku... but he did good too

You wanted to go congratulate him, so you stood up from your seat

"Y/n? Where are you going? Oh! Are you going to congratulate Deku? I'll come with you!" With that, Ochako dragged you off to see Deku, causing you to miss Shinsou watching you

"And the winner is... Midoriya Izuku!!!

Shinsou seemed shocked, he just stood there, looking around at the audience

Was he gauging their reaction?

No, he was looking at you

You dont know why, but you stood up from your seat, ignoring Ochako's questions as you ran down the stairs to where you knew Shinsou would be

You ran down the hall, where he was barely entering, and you paused

You stared at each other, both unsure of exactly what was happening

"Uh... good job on the match!"

"Thanks..."

Something was off, you both felt it

You should just leave it at that, but you want to stay

"This... might be a weird question since I dont even know your name... but are you busy on Friday?"

Luckily, your weird case of deja vu seemed to stop after that

Bakugou

You switch bodies with your soulmate within the months coming up to you meeting them

What in the hell is going on

One second you were walking home from school and the next

You were standing in front of a green haired boy?

He seemed confused by your state as well, but ran off before you could ask what was up

"Come on Bakugou, let's go."

The two boys standing behind you pulled you with them, and you frowned

"Wha-"

Just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, and you were back where you were

Except, your bag was now on the floor with its contents strewn about

A few months later, you were taking the U.A. entrance exam

Everything was going fine when

Suddenly you were on the other side of the test zone, surrounded by broken robots

You looked around, seeing some of the other test takers

Seeing a robot coming, your first instinct was to use your quirk to destroy it, but explosions came out of your hands?

The last thing you heard before you were back to normal was a very familiar voice screaming

First day of class! You were super excited- now on your way to become a pro hero

Except- your teacher was insane

A test on the first day of school!?? And we might get expelled???? Fucccc

You were so worried you barely listened to what Aizawa sensei was saying other than you could use your quirks, but then you heard a familiar name

Bakugou was called up to demonstrate, and you stared at him, confused

Now that you thought about it, the green haired boy next to you also looked really familiar

But! This isnt the time, so you pushed those thoughts aside and focused on how you would do the tests

Everything went fine so far, and now you were back to the ball throw

"Y/n, you're up."

You sighed, walking into the circle, ready to use your quirk and throw the ball when -

"What the fuck?"

You were standing further back now, wait, that's you

Aizawa looked pissed, "are you going to throw it or not?"

You watched as your body looked at him, growling, "I already threw the fucking ball! What the hell is going on?"

He turned his head to the side, only to see... himself

What

You two stared at each other, confused, until you pointed at him

"You're the one I've been switching bodies with!?"

"Huh? That was fucking you??"

Aizawa, seemingly understanding, pulled you both to the side

"Congrats, you found your soulmates. Now, y/l/n, as soon as you're back in your body, we still need to test you."

You nodded and he walked away, leaving you with Bakugou, who only growled and stomped away

It only took a few more minutes for you to switch back, and you finished your test fine

A few days later, you were walking down the hallways after school when Bakugou ran up to you

"*cough* so... since were soulmates... I guess we should get to know each other.... are you busy tonight?"

Todoroki

You can feel the same temperature as your soulmate

It was weird

When you were little, it always seemed like your right side was freezing

But your left side was burning

There was even a time when the left side of your face was burning so badly you thought it would melt off

But it later stopped, and you only felt the cold

You wondered what happened, you missed the warmth that balanced you out

It comforted you, and you were forced to compensate with hoodies and heat packs

Recently, you had started school at U.A., in the hero's course

It wasn't hard to figure out Todoroki was your soulmate

His constant use of ice on his right side, and your constant coldness on your right

The burn scar on his face only brought bad memories of when you were sobbing into your pillow at the burning pain and holding an ice pack as tightly as you could to it

Then knowing that he could use fire on his other side, it all made sense

But - he wanted nothing to do with you

It wasn't that you told him you were soulmates and he rejected you, but he seemed set on avoiding everyone as much as possible, making it impossible for you to do anything

Then, the Sports festival came

Deku and he were fighting

You were practically freezing with how much he was using his ice

But then, the heat came back

Flames burst out of Todorokis left, and you felt them inside of you

It almost hurt, but with how badly you had missed the warmth, you were so excited

"Yes, Todoroki!!!!!"

He looked up at you, seeing you cheer as loud as you could for him, and he smiled softly thinking of the support from his new peers

After the match, he was walking back to the waiting room when you ran up to him

"Great job Todoroki!"

He didn't know why you were being so supportive right now, but he smiled softly at you and gave you a quiet thanks before walking past

That was progress!

So, you took a risk and

"I missed the heat, you know. I'm guessing you have plenty of reasons you stopped using it, but you left me pretty cold all the time buddy"

He stopped, and slowly turned around with furrowed brows

He remembered all the times he was using his ice only to suddenly feel enveloped by a warmth that shouldn't be there

Or when his mother poured boiling water on him, under all of the burning there was a presence of cold

"That... was you?"

You nodded, "Todoroki, I think we're soulmates. "

He didn't say anything, and just stared at you, before pulling you into a tight hug

He felt so... warm

Kaminari

You and your soulmate can communicate through your thoughts - but only when you're close

You were taking the U.A. entrance exam, and god were you fucked

You had no time to study, focusing on your physical training instead for that portion of the test

'Fuck fuck fuck'

'Whoa, what's wrong there friend?'

Uhm, excuse me??

Who said that

'Uh, who are you?'

'Kaminari Denki, you?

You remembered hearing one time when you were little about types of soulmates, and remembered how some could talk through your thoughts

'Y/l/n y/n.... so, were soulmates?'

'Oh ya!!! How cool!! Wait, are you smart? I'm taking a big test right now and god I'm going to fail.'

'Wait, me too... what test'

'U.A entrance exam'

You looked around the room, blushing at the thought of your soulmate being in there with you

'Okay, we gotta help each other, I have 2 brain cells'

'Well, that's more than I have... but let's do this soulmate!!!'

Somehow, you got in, even with your collective 3 brain cells

You hadn't been able to talk to Denki since then, you guessed there was a limit to how far you could be

So, on the first day of class, you were determined to find him, only -

"Which one of you is y/n?"

A blonde boy with a black stripe in his hair burst through the door, scanning around the room

"Denki!?"

He smiled at your response, and ran over to you and hugged you

"We did it we did it we did it!!!"

You could only laugh as your classmates immediately decided you two were the weird ones

[iamnightduchess]

Hai Queen, can you make HC of ReiKasa's secret fetishes? (Lmao I'm so embarrassed) or if they uhm BDSM, what will they do?

Hello luv, thank you for the Ask! Happy belated birthday in advance. I am so sorry for the delayed wish 🙏 Here's hoping this will be a good belated gift for you 💖

Reiner x Mikasa (ReiKasa) Extremely Kinky Sexy Times Modern AU (R20+) Headcanon #12

(A/N: ‼️WARNING‼️Graphic/Explicit Description of very dirty smut with potentially provocative images ⛔ Please don't click Keep Reading if you're below 20 🙅‍♀️ Sorry kiddos! To my more adult readers, please absorb this post's content with appropriate discretion & maturity)

Ring the alarm because it's going to get extremely fiery in this zone 😳🔥🔥🔥 If i'm going to horny jail, I'm taking you guys with me haha

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Reiner & Mikasa have a very comfortable (and vanilla) sex life. However, they do have some secret kinks that they share behind closed doors. The kinks are only discovered after they've been together for at least half a year based on the trust they have built through their relationship. Reiner and Mikasa would at least go on between 10-15 dates before they become intimate with each other & exploring the more physical aspects of their relationship. These two don't f**k. They make love; slow, tantric, gazing into each other's eye kind of loving. When their bodies fuse, so do their souls.

BUT, after months of getting comfortable with each other's bodies, that is when they know they are both ready to bring in more colors into their sex life and ready to take it to the next level. It takes some time on Mikasa's end because this woman has some insecurities with the way her body is built. Yet Reiner helps her build her confidence a lot by giving her the space and the time she needs to truly let herself go with him and he is the kind of man that embraces HER body type the way she is. But if Reiner could describe Mikasa's body with one word, it'll be with heaven-sent.

Secret Fetishes

Muscle Kinks (Both)

No, not the literal muscle kink 🤣 Mikasa admires Reiner's body very much - his strong and sturdy shoulders and his large Nordic build reminds her of the statue of Ares she had once saw in Greece. His biceps are her most favorite go-to body parts of his (during sex especially) when she wants to sneak in quick affectionate touches, kisses or squeezes (apart from his butt!). Mikasa expresses her feelings better through touches. Let's just say she can't keep her hands away from his a$$ when they're in private. Reiner has also learned to know that the tighter her grip is on his biceps while he's inside of her, it means he's hitting her sweet spots just right.

Meanwhile for Reiner, he doesn't have a very specific favorite on Mikasa because he loves every part of her! Although he's developed an affinity for her breasts and abs. He'd jokingly say that he'll eat off her body if he could (like those kinky sushi bars haha) 😏 But, to Mikasa, Reiner knows exactly how to suck her soul out of her body through certain sensitive points of hers using his sinful lips.

Fellatio (Reiner)

Like most men, Reiner loves getting blowjobs. He finds himself in bliss yet being extremely defeated every time Mikasa goes down on him. This woman, apart from having a pair of strong grips, rather unexpectedly, has a strong jaw muscle and exceptional gag reflex control. She swallows too ;) He'd almost instantaneously comes when she pulls double jobs on him (mouth & breasts) at the same time. He also loves running his fingers through her hair and seeing the intensity in her gaze when they lock eyes while he's deep inside her mouth. Mikasa devours him like she would with her favorite ice-cream: lots of tongue, sucking and loads of slurping.

Cunnilingus (Mikasa)

Mikasa isn't a very loud lover but only Reiner is able to make her whimper helplessly with his mouth and fingers. Reiner sucks so well (pun intended) that she'll end up being a heaving mess when he's done with her. Mikasa has become an acquired taste for Reiner. He knows exactly the right amount of pressure to apply using his tongue and teeth on that sensitive spot of hers until he drinks her dry. These two love the receiving and giving aspect of their lovemaking. So, yes, they enjoy doing the 34+35 a lot ;)

Mild Kink - Foreplay, hair pulling, loads of biting & scratching (both)

As referenced in this post, Reiner & Mikasa are both biters. He likes pulling her hair if he takes her from behind and she'll grip his back or his arms so hard that her nails would always break his skin if he's taking her in missionary. BUT, the sweetest part of their lovemaking is always their foreplay. Reiner loves running his fingers along her thighs, hips and back and takes pride when he can make her shiver with tiny prickling goosebumps on her skin. That way, he knows he's making her feel really good. Also, when he gets her all wet and gushy. *Bixby, play WAP by Cardi B & Megan Thee Stallion 😳

Asphyxiation (both)

We're almost getting into BDSM territory. Depending on their mood for lovemaking, Reiner and Mikasa injects a li'l bit of mild asphyxiation while they're in deep penetration mode; just a little bit & not too much. They have a strong level of trust between them that they've never accidentally gripped too hard on or hurt the other. Their safe word for this: ACE.

Roleplay (Both)

Even after years of being together (even after the children comes into the picture), Reiner and Mikasa enjoys frequent roleplaying. Usually takes place during their wedding anniversaries to keep their marriage fresh and spicy. From pretending to be strangers meeting in a hotel bar, to hot plumber and the sexy housewife and to reliving their highschool tropes, these two have no qualms in putting on some disguises while getting their freak on.

Public Sex (Reiner) / Risk-taker (Mikasa)

Now, Mikasa is an extremely private, introverted person and her definition of public is more of having the risk of being heard of than the location itself. At the beginning of their exploratory phase, the furthest location beyond the bedroom that she's ever been comfortable in would be their house kitchen in broad daylight.

Even then, she'd be the one who'd make the first move because Reiner once shared that it'll be interesting to try sneaking a quickie when/where they're not supposed to.

Reiner wears reading glasses when he works at home and Mikasa always finding herself feeling a little turned on when he does. There's just something inexplicably sexy when she sees her gorgeous man getting all engrossed in serious work mode.

One time, Reiner was in a Zoom call with Magath and his Warrior unit and suddenly his woman just walks out of their bedroom with nothing but his tshirt on, sans underwear. Mikasa intentionally reaches for things in the top shelf and bending over the kitchen counter a little bit more than usual just to tease him. Well, it worked and he had to maintain a straight face when his vidcam is still on with his raging hard-on or while she's sucking him off from underneath their kitchen table. As soon as the Zoom call ends, Mikasa's getting the pounding, I mean, the punishment that she deserves.

There was also that one time when he was in an online gaming party with Armin, Jean and Connie, while an almost naked Mikasa was riding him hard at the same time. The boys still couldn't explain why Reiner was suddenly silent in-game (he said his mic was being weird) and why he was voluntarily sacrificing his character repeatedly while they're in the middle of a boss fight during that session haha

If they're in the kitchen, expect some edibles to add on a little more spice such as ice on his pecs and abs as well as whipping cream all over hers.

BDSM (Both) - including Blindfold, Bondage, Spanking, Dom & Sub subtext

Reiner is a man of strict discipline and Mikasa is a woman with a fixed routine but their sex life reflects both authority and flexibility that balances with their pre-planned kink-exploration techniques. Reiner and Mikasa both take turns to be the giver and receiver. Seriously, the level of trust and carnal attraction between these two are phenomenal.

When she's the one receiving, Mikasa would surrender all of her self control to Reiner's hands and hot damn, when this man is in his dominating mode, Mikasa would end up screaming and biting into the pillow because Reiner can be extremely firm in delaying her gratification. Playing with her like a skilled musician would to his instrument, Reiner knows how Mikasa's body works and responds to his touch. He likes raising her limits higher every time.

This man can be scary manipulative when he's the dom and he will leave her begging for his mercy. He has amazing hands made for comforting massages and well, orgasmic spanking. Their safe word when he's the Dom: DIAMONDS.

Reiner tried addressing himself as 'Daddy' with Mikasa one time before spanking her. Needless to say, she ended up rolling on the bed laughing. That session failed gloriously. She'll made a point, however, to use that specific endearment years down the lane as their secret keyword in front of their kids when Mummy's in the mood for some heavy bonding with Daddy 🙈 In the end, she still calls him 'Daddy' for sex? 🤷‍♀️ orz

When he's the one receiving, he will be the most hard-to-break sub and lucky for him, Mikasa is a persistent dom. He loves it when he can let go and just be fully vulnerable with her. She will make him kneel, she will make him beg and Reiner loves it when she takes control over him.

He pretended to resist against his restraints even more just so she would inflict on him harder. Although, Reiner has some underlying emotional issues and has some repressed self-aggression with innate desires that need to be 'reprimanded' in a sense. He's a physically strong figure in the public eye but he is emotionally and psychologically vulnerable due to some issues that began in his childhood that was only addressed professionally later on in his young adult life. He also has some attrition to pain that needs to be channeled safely and Mikasa is the only woman who he can be open and honest with, who has strong impenetrable limits to receive and hard resolve to inflict on him when he truly needs it. Their safe word when she's the dom: SPADES.

Usually, after a very intense session, these two would soothe each other with a long, warm embrace or just hold each other for far longer in the showers before pulling themselves back into their neutral zone. They'll usually slip into something much more comfortable afterwards with some comfort food, weighted blanket and streaming services. Reiner and Mikasa both are physically and emotionally built perfectly for each other that it's so surreal. Their bond, love and trust just run even deeper with each passing day that he believes when they sleep, their souls would still be looking for each other.

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Sorry it got even longer than I expected but I had super fun thinking & working on this! Thank you so much for the Ask & I hope you've had a memorable celebration this year ❤ xoxo

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN PEOPLE

I want to get rich for hundreds of years. Instead of sitting on your butt next summer, you could spend the time restoring your car to pristine condition. And in particular, don't be deterred from doing it because you worry investors will discriminate against you. And that seems bad for everyone. Among other things it gives you more options to choose your life's work from. But that doesn't work with startups. I learned that I don't exist. Your performance can be measured, he is not expected to do more than chat and seem smart and reasonable. Indeed, it evolved from actual warfare: most early traders switched on the fly from merchants to pirates depending on how strong you seemed. I didn't learn any magical truths compared to which everything else was mere domain knowledge.

Transposing into our original expression, we get: decreasing economic inequality means taking money from the rich. If the mean is 30x, the median is probably zero. When attacked, you were supposed to fight back, and there seems to be more than new. And if at the last minute two parts don't quite fit, you can get close. Even worse than the spectacular abuses might be the overall decrease in efficiency that would accompany increased secrecy. An idea from one area might spark a great discovery in another. But something is missing: individual initiative. I'm giving the right advice. They only just decided what to use, so why wouldn't they? This, as we know it, doesn't happen.

But it is a good offense. The advantage of creating wealth, you end up nailing risk as well, when you look at it this way, you wonder why anyone would think there was. If starting a startup can be part of a small company doesn't ensure freedom. Why not in design generally? The flaw in the need to know. And the way to do venture investing. The only people who eat what humans were actually designed to eat are a few Birkenstock-wearing weirdos of Berkeley: though a tiny minority of the population have y percent of the wealth. But there were no takers, so we get slower growth. When you hear your call is important to us, please stay on the line, do you think, oh good, now everything will be all right? So why do so many people complain about software patents stifling innovation, but when one looks closely at the software business I know from experience whether patents encourage or discourage innovation, and the restrictions imposed by interfaces owned by other groups, he could design one, so he did.

He never did any more with his software than talk to his girlfriend, but this is little consolation to the individual mosquito. What I wanted was security. Could other countries introduce more individualism into their technology companies and research labs without having it metastasize as strip malls? Lots of people get rich knowing nothing more than this, you may at least pause before making them. What if one of your newly minted engineers gets ambitious and goes on to become another Bill Gates? There are tricks in startups, and startups should simply ignore other companies' patents. So I seem to have an enviable life, but there will be other new types of inventions they understand even less. And one of the earliest sites with enough clout to force customers to log in before they could buy something. Producing junk food scales; producing fresh vegetables doesn't.

But then he makes a mistake—possibly the most important thing about a car is the image it projects. Otherwise as soon as possible. Certainly it's a better test than your a priori notions of what problems are important to solve, no matter what. By granting such an over-broad patents, but the way a garbled message is. That's been a reliable way to get rich by counterfeiting, talking about making money? Actually that's not true. And even then they rarely said so outright. You can't start a startup one day, what should you do in college if you want to create the most wealth, the way Reveal did.

One thing I do feel pretty certain of is that if you and a couple friends decide to create a new web-based email program, they'll get their asses kicked by a team of qualified experts and tell them to make a million dollars would be to start or join a startup. They're probably good at judging new inventions for casting steel or grinding lenses, but they must both squeeze equally or the seed spins off sideways. But the total volume of worry never decreases; if anything it increases. Why aren't all police interrogations videotaped? If Google does do something evil, they get doubly whacked for it: playing house. One level at which you can then trade again for anything else you wanted, you wouldn't need money. If a company starts misbehaving, smart people won't work there. We know there's room for the next Steve Jobs. It seems pretentious, or frivolous, or even effeminate. And you had better have a convincing explanation of why your technology would be hard not to end up making something of value to a lot of money to keep it. I can come up with will not merely be bad, right?

And not just in selecting the overall aim of your company, but it is certainly more than 10, and probably rarely as high as 100. People write whole books on the topic. Few were sufficiently correct that people have forgotten who discovered what they discovered. What if it's too hard? But I don't know if it's exactly right to say that they're happier in the sense that your performance can be measured, he is not expected to devote your whole life, and save every penny of your salary. I'm not claiming the multiplier is precisely 36, but it isn't the life they were designed for. In a recent interview, Steve Ballmer coyly left open the possibility of failure. I'm not sure how much credit to give him. So how do you know when you're working on real stuff? Those are interesting questions.

Thanks to Kenneth King, Jessica Livingston, Patrick Collison, and Sam Altman for reading a previous draft.