#The Ghosts of Bonnie and Clyde | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cobaltperun · 3 months ago

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Darkest Part (5) - Bad Medicine

Astrid Deetz x female Reader

Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.

Masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part (Finale)

Word count: 6.5k

-Your love is like bad medicine, bad medicine is what I need-

The afterlife was so damn random. Your first experience with afterlife was an office with a bunch of tall men with shrunken heads. Some of them had only one eye! And not in the eyepatch kind of way, but in the one big eye like a cyclops way! And one of them was dressed exactly like Beetlejuice, and that was the most normal thing in this entire office! “What the fuck,” you whispered as Beetlejuice turned to the one dressed just like him.

“Bob, you and the boys stand guard! Nobody gets through,” he then turned to Lydia “Let's go, honey,” well you were already here so there was no going back. Why were you doing this again? Oh, yeah, because Astrid went and got herself into trouble. You went after him and Lydia only to be met with even more randomness and the utter bizarre feeling permeating this entire world. You realized everything was tilted, the floors, the walls, absolutely everything in this place was at an angle and it wasn't even consistent! If it wasn't for this kind of circumstance, you would actually marvel at the architecture of all of this.

“We’re like Bonnie and Clyde, you and me, without bullet holes,” Beetlejuice pointed out almost giddily as he led you and Lydia down the halls.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Lydia wasn't having any of it.

“You go right down the hallway, three rights through the ninth door right,” he pumped his fist. “To the Soul Train,” Beetlejuice instructed you and it made it sound like he wasn't going with you.

“Where are you going? Lydia asked immediately, for all her dislike of the whatever Beetlejuice was he did seem powerful, and if you were going to save Astrid from the clutches of death you might as well have someone powerful on your side. Someone who actually knew where you were supposed to head after you rescue her.

“I’m gonna go to the little boy’s room first,” why did a guy that was probably a powerful demon or spirit of sort and probably very, very old, just use that phrase? Why was he so immature? Just why?

“Fuck it, let's just go,” you ran through the halls following the directions Beetlejuice gave you and soon enough you could see the crowd forming on your path. “That’s a good sign,” you told Lydia and she nodded. The crowd did slow you down a bit, but not by a lot, they seemed more interested in dancing and having fun rather than actually getting to their destination. Well, if after life was for an eternity then you guessed they didn't really have anywhere to rush, they would have all the time in the world.

Unless there were something you didn't know about and ghosts could die and now your head hurt because you were thinking about too many things that you didn't need to think about right now! You entered the train station that looked kind of like a disco themed train station and the music playing kind of gave it that feel too. You looked over the crowd from the stairs looking for Astrid but all you could see was a lot of dead people.

“Astrid!” Lydia yelled from the stairs and then you caught sight of the two people dragging someone in a dress that looked a lot like what Astrid was wearing for Halloween.

“There,” was no way you would mistake anyone for her. “There she is!” you pointed your finger towards her and jumped over the fence running through the crowd as quickly as you could, pushing through the ghosts just as Astrid was pushed on to the train. “Damn it!” you cursed trying to keep your sight on the doors they pushed Astrid through. “Astrid!” you yelled as loud as you could, for the first time ever saying her name, though that didn't even cross your mind, and you pushed through the door where she stood, frozen in fear and clearly panicking on the inside. “Come on, let's get out of here,” you grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the train just as Lydia caught up to you.

“Astrid!” Lydia quickly pulled her into a hug and Astrid immediately wrapped her arms around her mother. There was no hesitation, or resentment Astrid carried up until now, there was just pure happiness at seeing her mother.

You smiled, happy that you made it in time, though you would still have to find the bastard that tricked Astrid into trading her soul. You should have known things were going too easy. Not only did the guys that pushed Astrid into the train came back due to all the commotion you made, but there were also some guys dressed like police officers pointing toward you and Lydia. “We need to run!” you yelled and all three of you looked around for an exit that wasn't blocked.

“Over there,” Lydia pointed at the door to your left.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” you muttered to Astrid as the three of you began running.

“Save it for later, Barnacle,” she hissed at you, but you could tell she knew this was still a really bad situation. For all you knew you would be running right into another trap and you had no idea how to reunite with Beetlejuice so he could help you deal with the rest of Astrid’s problem.

Since you reached it first you forcefully pushed the doors open, only to stumble forward and fall face first into the sand from way too high. How were you not hurt? Sure, the sand cushioned your fall, but still…

A shriek from above made your eyes widen and the next thing you felt was a body falling right on top of you and not only knocking all the air out of your lungs but also managed to fill your mouth with sand.

“Sorry,” of course it was Astrid that fell on top of you.

You just spat out the sand that got into your mouth and sighed, at this point you should have been concerned about your safety and health, but from the looks of it, working for Delia made you free from such petty burdens. Still, unlike falling onto the sand, this one hurt, like actually hurt, and you just knew you would be feeling it for a long time. “Forget the chihuahua you are much heavier than that. You're an entire pack of chihuahuas!” you groaned, and accidentally missed the smile on her face as she patted you on the shoulder.

“At least you've softened the fall for me, Y/N,” did she just say your name? You must have hit your head. That was the only explanation.

You laughed mockingly. “That's exactly what I intended. My life's purpose is now fulfilled, and I can die in peace,” sarcasm dripped from your voice as you stood up with a long, audible, groan. You were 95% certain you would end up with back pain for the rest of your life from Astrid falling on top of you.

Astrid groaned and smacked her forehead. “You didn't just say that. Right here and right now,” she sighed, and well, you supposed this was a really bad timing.

No regrets though! In fact, you were rather satisfied grinning with pride.

“And you regret nothing, of course you don’t,” she pinched the bridge of her nose, but you swore you could see a smile on her face. Astrid finally looked around and you felt absolutely lost, after all, all you were seeing was all the sand and more sand and endless sand around you. “Hey, where are we?” Astrid asked what probably all three of you were thinking.

“I don't know,” Lydia admitted and you just shrugged. Geography really wasn't your strongest suit but it didn't look like any desert you were aware of.

“Is that Saturn?” you followed Astrid’s line of sight and the direction she was pointing at, and sure enough… there was a fucking planet right there! “So, we must be on one of its moons? I swear the afterlife is so random!”

“You can say that again,” you said, you definitely weren't guessing that from just the planet but now that you looked at it, it really did seem obvious. Still, damn this girl was smart.

All of a sudden the sand close to you began shaking and looking like it was rippling, like something underneath it was moving.

“Maybe we should just, you know, run!” there was no way that was a good sign and you weren’t about to wait for Astrid and Lydia to get the message, you just pushed them away from the sand and began running away from whatever was moving under the sand. From the looks of it, it was big and you did not want to risk becoming a dinner for some afterlife monster.

And you made a good decision as something emerged from the sand and you looked back. “Holy shit!” you cried out. It was some kind a huge worm and it was easily bigger than any animal aside from a whale that you ever saw.

“Sandworm!” Lydia identifying the creature wasn’t helping, but now you would at least know you got eaten by a sandworm if you failed to escape.

“Got any idea how to escape?!” you glanced at Lydia. She was the expert, surely she had-

“None! Just keep running!” yeah, great, that would work, especially when the sandworm caught up to them much faster than they were running. And then by some miracle a door opened above you.

“Take my hand!” someone yelled, and at this point you didn’t care if it was a demon, or police, or anything, as long as it wasn’t this sandworm. You and Lydia let Astrid up first, and then Lydia pushed you to go ahead next. You were not about to argue with her, so you let the man pull you up and then helped him bring Lydia up as well and he closed the door right as the sandworm collided with it.

You dropped down on the floor and took several deep breaths. There would be a lot to unpack here if you survived. And the worst thing about it? If you told any of this to roughly 99% or even every single psychiatrist you’d be sent to an asylum.

“Dad,” Astrid whispered and you finally glanced at the man that saved you. Actually, now that you looked at him, you could see some resemblance, especially if one ignored the color of his skin and the fishes attached to his body eating his flesh. Well, at least someone was making some good memories in this damn world. The best you had this far was Astrid falling on top of you, and that would probably leave long-lasting consequences on your back. Astrid and Lydia hugged the man and you just sat back, letting the family reunion unfold undisturbed by your presence.

~X~

Astrid's dad let you all into an office of sorts and poured coffee into the mugs as Lydia and Astrid sat at the table you stood back not really sure how to act and not wanting to intrude on the family reunion. Besides, there was another issue, as much as you could see that Astrid needed some closure and a moment with her dad you also knew your time was ticking. Not to mention there was some kind of police after you and Lydia for entering this world while still being alive, and there was also the bastard that stole Astrid's life to be dealt with. So, as much as you understood Astrid needed to have this moment with her father you also knew you just had to go.

In fact, you had to leave five minutes ago.

“Marie Curie, after the radiation poisoning. Right?” her dad asked, and you finally took a better look at her. You didn’t dare to ask her what her costume was when she was leaving and now that you looked at her properly and her dad pointed it out, well, it was obvious…

Like hell it was!

Who would look at that dress and immediately go: ‘Oh, yeah, Marie Curie!’ and sure, it was pretty much as close to her dress and hairstyle from one of her most well-known photos, but still! How many people would remember the exact dress right away?

“Learnt from the best,” but Astrid did look proud of herself, so you figured you should let the chihuahua be delusional.

“We made a great kid,” Astrid’s dad turned to Lydia and no matter what you did less than an hour ago you were very tempted to disagree.

“I know you can't see me, but I check in on your both all the time,” okay, that was actually really sweet. “And I don't want to be the reason that drove you two apart, you need each other, you make each other better. Always have,” you blinked a few times, taking in the image of the happy family hug.

This was too wholesome for your own good. This was not the side of Astrid you needed to see!

Damn it!

When the family separated Astrid glanced at you and froze for a moment before smirking. “Don’t go soft on me now, Barnacle,” she just had to call you out, didn’t she?!

Blood rushed to your face, and you were sure steam burst out of your ears. Considering how crazy and absurd this whole place was, maybe it did happen. “I am not! And quit wasting time, we need to get your soul back, you damn chihuahua!” you swiftly left the room. You would get Astrid’s soul back, leave this afterlife world, and never see the damn chihuahua again!

Astrid walked out after you, with her parents right behind her. “Come on, before our cantankerous Barnacle gets lost,” she said it with a strange sense of cheerfulness in her tone, but that was the least of your worries.

“Can-Cantan- I’m sorry, what?!” you stammered, not even remotely capable of figuring out the meaning of that word.

“Cranky, grumpy,” her dad provided, and you finally figured out where she got it from.

“Fucking chihuahua,” you felt your eye twitching as she just laughed at you.

“Come on,” while still laughing she actually went and grabbed your forearm, pulling you along. “Which way, dad?” she asked, turning to her dad as you focused on her hand wrapped around your forearm.

“Right down the hall, we need to stop him before the transfer becomes permanent,” her dad took lead, and you could feel Astrid’s grip on your arm getting tighter and it finally made sense to you. She needed a sense of normality, so she provoked you, so she could, at least for a moment, forget her life was still on the line.

~X~

You followed Astrid’s dad through the halls, having no idea which way you were going but according to him you would need to intercept the bastard that tricked Astrid before he got his passport stamped and made the transfer permanent. Why was it so easy for him to accomplish his goal while you, frankly, had no idea how to get the process reversed.

You didn't know what you could do to stop him, sure you could catch him, but what then? “Hey, how do we make him give Astrid’s soul back?” because you doubted a monster like him would just hand it over.

Astrid’s dad stopped for a moment. “I'm not sure, we’ll figure it out after we catch him,” he turned to Astrid. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart, I promise you.”

“Dad,” Astrid whispered now uncertain what the outcome of this would be.

“I promise,” he repeated even though all four of you knew that deep down maybe this was an empty promise.

And it damn near was just an empty promise.

You reached the entrance of the officers only to see the guy smirking smugly. He was too far away, you couldn’t reach him. “Don't stamp that passport!” Astrid’s dad yelled but it was too late whoever was behind the counter stamped the passport.

“You're too late, man,” he said and your eyes widened as you, instinctively rather than through a conscious effort, caught Astrid as she slumped back. Your heart beat wildly inside of your chest, how could you have let this happen? You looked at Astrid and you couldn't even apologize. You all failed her, the transfer was complete and she would die right here. You just didn't make it in time.

But then as if by some miracle the floor opened beneath the man and he just fell through into the flames. Then you saw what happened, the one who put the stamp on the transfer was Beetlejuice. A sense of relief flooded you, but you could not ignore how useless you felt. If he wasn't there you would have failed, this would have all been for nothing.

There wasn’t time to celebrate though. “This way!” Astrid's dad led you once more, after all, you still had the police after you and Lydia to worry about. He led you until you reached a small room with a crooked ladder leading through an opening in the ceiling.

“OK, this is as far as I go,” Astrid’s dad said and immediately Astrid hugged him.

“I love you,” she whispered wanting him to know that because there was no telling when she would get the chance to say it again.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Have an amazing life,” he held her as tightly as he possibly could before letting her go and looking at both her and Lydia. “Take care of each other, I'll see you later,” he told them both.

The three of you climbed outside and it turned out you were back at the cemetery, somehow. “I'm not even going to question anything,” you sighed, at this point learning to accept that the things around this family were just going to be weird and you had no control over it.

It definitely felt good to breathe in some fresh air. Even if your back hurt. ‘Yup, this is going to keep hurting,’ you thought and frowned as you massaged your lower back.

Astrid turned to Lydia. “Thank you for saving my life! I'm so sorry I never believed that you saw ghosts and, I’m just sorry for all of it,” Astrid was crying for the first time since you met her, she apologized with all of her heart to Lydia, and you looked away not wanting to interrupt the moment.

It just crossed your mind that you had no place in any of this. You were, at best, Delia's assistant who just happened to be there. You had no connection to either Lydia or Astrid other than the fact that you and Astrid did not exactly like each other, so being here actually felt uncomfortable.

Now that the adrenaline was gone and Astrid was saved you caught yourself wondering why you even went after Astrid. Lydia could have done it herself and you went and risked your life for someone you claimed to hate, and it was the most ridiculous decision you could have made.

“Oh my God, my wedding!” Lydia’s shout broke you out of your thoughts and that was the last thing you expected to hear from her right now, but here you were.

“Wait, mom, after everything that's happened tonight you know you don't have to do this, right?” Astrid went after her mother and then she realized you weren't following her. She turned to you grabbed you by the hand, pulling you along.

“Wait, Chihuahua!” you protested, but you really should have known you weren’t going to accomplish anything.

“Come on, please. After all of this I can’t deal with this wedding alone,” she admitted and you sighed, deciding to leave the feelings related to whether you should or shouldn't have gone after Astrid for later. At the end of the day, you did the right thing. You wanted to save her life consequences be damned, you had no intention of feeling guilt over that. And the feeling of her hand wrapped around your made that decision much easier.

“I might as well deal with this stupid wedding as well,” you shrugged, ignoring how your heart speed up when she smiled at your words.

Satisfied that you were coming with her and still holding your hand, Astrid turned to her mother once more. “Are you sure about this?”

Lydia was not sure, you could tell that. but she probably figured that if she didn’t do it now she would just get cold feet later and give up on the wedding altogether. Which would be a smart thing to do but you doubted she would reach that decision that easily. “Rory loves me and that's gotta be enough,” there was definitely something about her Rory loved, and you really believed it wasn’t what Lydia thought it was.

The three of you went into the church and the relief on Rory's face looked genuine, which was actually surprising, but then you heard the crowd already filming the event sitting on the pews and it all made sense. “Oh my God, I thought you got cold feet.”

“No, blame me. She just saves me for my date from hell,” Astrid sad and you probably couldn't describe what happened to her in a better way. A date from hell has never been so literal.

“Who are all these people?” Lydia was understandably confused as she looked at the people Rory invited, and you could tell she didn’t recognize any of them.

“Just a couple of influencers. Nobody under 5 million followers and I think we have a Netflix executive in here,” and Rory found nothing wrong with that. He had his ideas and he was not going to compromise them for the sake of Lydia’s comfort, and you know for a fact that she said she didn't want too many guests, that she wanted this to be private.

“Damn you're an asshole,” you shook your head, only now realizing Delia wasn’t here, and sure, she could be self-absorbed at times, and she disliked Rory, but she wouldn’t miss this. “Where is Delia?” you asked.

“Right here! She’s helping me calm down before the wedding,” and Beetlejuice was right here, probably to collect on his part of the deal with Delia somehow right with him.

How did that even-? You weren’t even going to bother anymore. You thought the madness would be over by now, but no, the show was still going on.

You patted Astrid on the shoulder and just slumped against the wall until you sat down. “Look, I’m just gonna sit here and rest for a bit, I need a moment,” was there a way to get therapy and avoid being sent to an asylum for the rest of your life?

Astrid had a strangely compassionate look on face. “Yeah, sure. Thanks for being here, and I mean it,” somehow you trusted her, even with all the banter and fights between the two of you. She crouched down so she was at your eye-level. “I mean it, Y/N,” you definitely trusted her and you smiled nudging her lightly toward her mother.

What followed was the back and forth between Beetlejuice and Rory that you frankly didn't care about much but what really got your attention was when Beetlejuice just randomly manifested a syringe with something inside of it and injected Rory with it. And apparently what was within it was some kind of a truth serum.

Rory looked like he was trying to stay silent, but then he couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I always thought your whole act was bullshit! I never believed in ghosts, spirits or any of it,” well now you were kind of happy you didn't go back to the house because seeing this emotional manipulator get his just deserts was worth it.

“What? All this time? Why did you want to get married?” Lydia had the most reasonable reaction to Rory's confession, but you honestly had to wonder just how he managed to trick her so well she.

“Money! I knew I could make more as your husband than I could as your manager! Oh, and I never had a dead fiancé! I just went to that survivors retreat so that I can weak women and exploit them and I hit the codependent lottery when I met you!” he was truly, absolutely a scumbag. An ever bigger one than you imagined.

And then Beetlejuice continued to defy all the laws of logic and the nature and created a boxing glove on Lydia's right hand, which somehow gave Lydia enough strength to punch Rory across the church.

“Okay, that was satisfying to see, but what the hell is going on here? Just how?” you asked blankly, just for a moment wondering why you even bothered trying to reasonably explain things happening tonight.

“Beats me, we got to see Rory flying,” Astrid pointed out and well you couldn’t see the flaw in that logic. “Say, what would you confess if someone injecting that into you?” oh no…

“I can arrange that,” Beetlejuice said before you could react and one second later you felt a needle pierce your neck and off you went just like Rory did.

You weren’t even trying to fight it. “I don't hate you, at all. Actually, I kinda like you. I mean, you do annoy me, but I like you. Uh, thanks for you know, fixing my drawing and I'm really impressed by your vocabulary, and that really infuriates me because I have to Google a lot of words because of you,” you took a deep breath and just sighed, not even capable of looking at Astrid right now because of how embarrassed you were. “And I think you are really beautiful, and damn that thing really works… Oh my God, this is a nightmare,” you glanced at Astrid and saw she was completely red in the face. “Well, at least seeing you blush makes it worth it,” you had to shut your mouth and make a genuine effort to keep more of how you felt from spilling out.

“Barnacle,” at this point that was turning into a pet name more than an insult, so you fired right back.

“Chihuahua,” the two of you had the strangest nicknames for one another that was clear by now. “I actually don’t mind that you call me that,” you admitted, still under the effect of the serum and smacked your forehead. “Fuck!” you cursed.

Astrid looked away, still blushing. “Noted,” she muttered, but you could see the smile on her face.

Finally, you looked away from Astrid and immediately saw horror that would haunt you for the rest of your life. At this point you could make a rather long list of those things. But this one was at the very top, as the people who Rory invited were being sucked into their phones. You were tempted to just leave but you weren’t about to leave Astrid here. Even if you were mostly sure she wouldn’t be hurt.

And then you must have been transported into a fever dream because Lydia suddenly changed into a red wedding dress, Beetlejuice’s clothes changed as well, music started playing and there was this huge melting, kind of disgusting looking, cake and you were all forced to dance and then the police zombies showed up.

And then, just as randomly as you were forced to start dancing you just stopped. “Is it finally over?” you asked no one in particular, though Astrid and Delia were the closest to you.

“Knowing this guy? This is just the beginning,” yeah Delia really had a way to console you and make you feel better.

The door slammed open suddenly all of you could see a woman, covered in stitches, standing there menacingly, and you had no idea who she was but something about her made her seem dangerous.

“Beetlejuice!” oh, yeah, he did start mentioning an ex before you interrupted him. That felt like a lifetime ago at this point.

“What the fuck?” oh, you were absolutely fucked if Beetlejuice of all people… or well, ghosts or demons or whatever he was, said that.

So, you did the most reasonable thing you could and stood in front of Astrid just in case this woman decided to turn her attention toward her. “What are you doing?” she hissed at you, but she did grab onto your shoulder.

“I don’t know, we are surrounded by supernatural beings and I clearly have a death wish, because I’d rather get between you and that, than let you get hurt,” oh, you were still under the effect of the truth serum.

“I'm back,” the woman declared.

“We can se-“ you were about to speak, but Astrid quickly put her hand over your mouth.

“Maybe that truth serum wasn’t worth it,” she groaned, pressing her forehead against your shoulder.

“You think?” your voice came out muffled by her hand, but you still said what came to your mind. “Look, if that guy looks afraid, I think we need to be afraid too,” you whispered, and Astrid nodded and as subtly as she could pointed toward the book near the three of you.

“Cover me,” Astrid said and you weren't sure how you were going to do it, but seeing as Beetlejuice was trying to talk his way out of whatever trouble he was in you figured he had you all covered.

Astrid came back to your and Delia’s side with the book in hands and flipped through the pages until she found the part about the Sandworms. “Can you get me something I can draw with?” she asked, and you were never so happy you always had a pen at your disposal.

“Here,” you handed it to her. Astrid nodded, drawing the square on the floor before knocking and then she pushed you and Delia away from the square, and just in time as the sandworm broke through the floor.

“Astrid, you are- I don't even have the words,” you could only watch as Beetlejuice directed the worm toward Rory and the woman and made it eat them. Which was somehow not even the most bizarre thing that happened tonight.

“OK, can we just go now?” you asked and from the looks of it everyone seemed to agree with you as you, and Astrid, Lydia and Delia all began heading for the exit.

“Hey, we had a deal!” Beetlejuice reminded Lydia, with the contract she signed held in his hand.

Much to your surprise, Astrid stepped forward. “She doesn’t have to marry you. You violated code 699! Yes, you illegally brought my mom into the afterlife,” she lifted the damn book up. “According to this book that contract is null and void,” Astrid explained. Did you ever admit that you actually really liked this girl because you did and she just rescued her mom back.

“Truth serum still works,” Delia snickered next to you.

“Fuck!” you cursed, knowing full well you said that and that, given you were merely half a dozen feet away from Astrid, she heard you.

Lydia stepped closed to Beetlejuice. “Look I'm sorry things didn't work out between us, but the six hundred year age gap was a little bit too much for me. Beetle-“ he began hissing but she just raised her finger. “Beetlejuice,” he began inflating as Lydia for his name, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice” Beetlejuice just popped like a balloon. That was it, he was gone. This was probably over now.

Hopefully.

There was still a chance you would jinx yourself right here and now and another bullshit would happen.

Police officers from the world of the dead unfroze and their detective began yapping about forensics and keeping the media away and he even posed so you could all take a selfie, and you were doing your very best to ignore him. That is until he reached over and just grabbed Delia. “Sister you're coming with me,” he said.

“Hey wait, she belongs here,” you went to stop him, consequences be damned, but before you could reach her Delia just shook her head and you halted, confused by her reaction. She was just fine when you last saw her, but then you saw them, the bite marks.

“What? Delia what did you do?” Lydia asked, exasperated.

“I fell for a scam and I'm counting on you to claim a refund,” the snakes, the damn snakes.

“The snakes were actually poisonous, weren't they?” Astrid voiced what you just realized.

“Yeah. So, I died of embarrassment,” yeah, sure you could go with Delia's explanation.

“Whatever makes you rest in peace,” you grinned at her for a bit, but the smile fell as quickly as it appeared. She was dead, and you came to really care about her.

“Your work is gonna go up in value,” and Astrid was joking as well or rather finding the brighter side and the entire situation.

“Oh well then,” and at least it made Delia happy.

“Oh, Delia, I’ll miss you,” Lydia reached over and touched her stepmother.

“No you won't! I'll find Charles and we'll haunt you all until you beg us to move on,” Delia promised and you were sure she would keep her words, and then she was taken away leaving only you Astrid and Lydia in the church.

“Well, this was… an experience,” you had no idea how things would continue from this point on. Was Rory dead? Were all the people he invited just gone? This was too much of a headache, a fever dream you were hoping to wake up from.

Wait…

Delia was dead!

“Fuck! I lost my job!” you cursed only for Astrid to pat you on the back.

~X~

The next morning you woke up still under the effect of what happened the previous night and all the things you learned saw and experienced. In your mind that was supposed to be an unknown and now you knew what happened after death. Now you knew how things were once someone dies and from the looks of it now you could see ghosts just like Lydia and Astrid. And then there was Astrid… and all the things you said under the effects of that damn truth serum.

Slowly, with a frown on your face and some pain in your back, you got out of your bed and got ready for the day. You were actually surprised you even slept last night, but maybe you were just that exhausted.

You went down the stairs to find Astrid sitting there. “Hey,” she actually greeted you first without snide remark or an insult hurled toward you she even had a small smile on her face. So, the last night really did happen. If the pain in your back wasn’t enough of a proof this definitely was.

“Hey,” neither of you seemed eager to actually have a conversation after everything that happened. You understood, she damn near died so if you were in her shoes you probably would have tried staying in bed for as long as you possibly could. You'd probably start avoiding every single person fearing they might try to trade their your life for their own, so she was handling this a lot better than you would.

“You aren't the ghost, are you?” she tried to joke but at this point you understood why she questioned absolutely everything.

“Unless everyone I've been interacting with is also a ghost, no I am alive. Are you?” you fired back the same question, though it was absolutely a joke and she, luckily, chuckled a bit

“Yeah, I don't think we need another proof of that, after I nearly lost my life,” she had a point there and you both just grinned at each other. Where were you supposed to take this? All of this?

“Did you sleep at all?” you asked after a bit of actually comfortable silence.

She just shook her head. “I couldn't. I can't stop thinking about everything. There are so many things on my mind I just couldn't fall asleep,” you noticed the dark circles underneath her eyes which you originally guessed where the remnants of her costume but now that you were a bit closer to her you realized it was just from not sleeping last night. “You?”

“I did, somehow. I think I was just exhausted,” your whole world changed and you couldn’t tell if it was for the better or for the worse. But even with all those strange experiences you would absolutely need therapy for it still wasn't as significant or big as the change Astrid just went through. After all while you believed in ghosts and didn't really think about afterlife Astrid actually denied them, believed it was, well you didn't know what she believed in exactly, but you guessed she believed there was just nothing after death.

“I get that,” she agreed and finally looked you in the eyes and you just saw the question at the tip of her tongue. “Why did you come with my mom? Why did you come to rescue me?” and that was bothering her too. She couldn’t explain it.

“I don't know,” that wasn't exactly true, but you really didn't know the entire reason you took such a big risk. Liking Astrid wasn’t all there was to it. You took a deep breath and shrugged. “I guess I just couldn't stand by when someone I know got tricked into losing her life. I just didn’t want you dead, Astrid,” you admitted.

“That's the third time you said my name, you know? In all the time you've known me,” she smiled softly, and she was right, it really was the third time you said her name. It felt kind of strange, almost unique on your tongue, because you've never really mentioned her name to other people either. You just either called her by her last name or simply chihuahua so saying Astrid would take some getting used to.

“I guess I did,” you looked at the table. “I was thinking, and you can say no, but would you like to start over? Maybe try to be friends or maybe you know go out for a coffee? I mean I imagine whatever I come up with won't be as bad as your first date so you know, we could make it a friendly date and fix the impression on dating you probably have right now? And now I'm rambling but you get the point!” you were ready for her to decline, to say that, while she can tolerate you now and maybe doesn’t want you to die either, she just wasn't interested in building any kind of friendship with you, much less going on a date.

But instead she actually smiled and looked down a little bit shyly. “I'd actually like that. We can go on the date, an actual date, I mean if that's not too fast for you,” she lightly scratched her cheek in embarrassment. “Looks like I kind of have a knack for rushing things,” she laughed and you laughed with her.

Date it was.

Taglist: @alexkolax @osnapitzmel1 @bee-keeping @nebthetautora @lololauser

@nwestra @rroyale-109 @gemz5 @social-pomegranate @mirage018

@the-thing-withfeathers @hello-mtf @leafanonsforest @jaxon-nathaniel-drake @niqmandu

Masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part (Finale)

#astrid deetz x female reader #astrid deetz x reader #astrid deetz #beetlejuice beetlejuice #x reader #x female reader #jenna ortega x reader

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eyecan02 · 6 months ago

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WARNING: MAJOR BEETLEBABES SPOILERS

I had fun watching this film. It was great seeing the OGs again, it was funny and it had a good script BUT I have to give this movie 7/10 because the pacing was off for the first half of the film and because of the two unnecessary Babyjuice scenes (We'll get to more of that in a bit.)

It just felt rushed and Beetlejuice and Lydia's scenes were limited. Yes, we knew from the get go that Keaton's scenes would be confined because that's how he wanted it but I just like complaining. lol

Before Lydia and Beetlejuice officially reunite, he starts spamming her phone with the Day O song playing with Beetlejuice's name in bold pops ups coming up nonstop. This happens when Rory is trying to talk about their wedding and Lydia just isn't in the mood to talk about it.

The first Beetlebabes scene is the "therapy scene" and its also the first Babyjuice scene. Lydia's belly grows quickly, her water breaks and out pops out Babyjuice. It starts crawling around and soon starts biting on Lydia's ankle. You do actually see bloody teethmarks on Lydia's ankle to which Beetlejuice says, "Takes after his dad." and he starts drooling exaggeratingly.

I don't remember the exact wording but Lydia called Beetlejuice "Demented." To which Beetlejuice replies with something like "Well, if me wanting to be with the love of my life is demented then fine I'm demented. Come here, honey." Yes, he actually calls her the love of his life!

He tries to do the gliding thing he did with Lydia during the first movie when he says this. Before Lydia is pulled to his side, she yells, "Home! Home! Home!"

That's when Lydia tries to hurry to get everyone out of the house and out of Winter River but Astrid tells her she has a date and somehow convinces Lydia to drive her to the boy's house. So Delia and Lydia board up the attic door and decide no one goes in and that they'll leave that same night right after Lydia gets married at midnight.

Now as most of us have heard- Astrid's crush has a secret. That secret is...that he's a ghost. Which, I feel so dumb about not guessing it. I should've figured it out when they showed "The Recently Deceased" book thar he claimed he bought at a "yard sale". The boy (can't remember his name) says Lydia can help him come back to life (not through marriage) and says if she travels with him to the Neitherworld, she'll help her see her dad again.

Lydia soon finds out that the boy (I think his name was Jeremy) was not only someone who killed his parents but is also a ghost (through info from Jane the realtor) so she rushes to rescue Astrid but gets there seconds too late. With no other choice she goes back to the Maitlands home and summons Beetlejuice.

The minute Beetlejuice gets Lydia into the afterlife...they're immediately separated right after the "Bonnie and Clyde line. The excuse? Beetlejuice had to "visit the little boy's room" as a plot device so that Lydia and Astrid could reunite with Astrid's deceased father. He's the one that saves them from the sandworm and helps them make up.

It turns out that Jeremy was gonna swap places with Astrid. She would've gone on the Soul Train that takes you to the "Great Beyond" and he would've resurrected as a living person. This takes place at an immigration office. Beetlejuice has kind of a heroic moment where he switched places with the person behind the glass that gives the "stamp of living approval."

When Jeremy looks at the paper that Beetlejuice gives him, it reads "Shit Out of Luck Fucker". XD This part had everyone howling with laughter. Beetlejuice stamps on the paper and that instantly opens the floor beneath Jeremy and sends him to hell.

Astrid's father helped Lydia and Astrid leave the Neitherworld through a portal in a mausoleum that is conveniantlly across from the church that Lydia is supposed to getting married at. Even though she doesn't really want to marry Rory, she decides to do it anyway. Tells Rory she won't change into her wedding dress- that they should just proceed as they are.

That's when Beetlejuice arrives with Delia, pushes her aside and tells her to "Scram!" lol (Earlier in the film, Delia tried to perform a strange love ritual with a pair of snakes that she was told were defanged. Spoiler: they weren't defanged so she died and got sent to the Waiting Room so since she doesn't want to wait there for ages, she summons Beetlejuice who agrees to help her if he can help her find his "runaway bride".)

Beetlejuice proceeds to drug Rory by stabbing his neck with a syringe and this somehow makes Rory confess whata scumbag he is and how he was just using Lydia for money. Another interesting moment where Beetlejuice is being "helpful" in his own way."

So the next five minutes are just as chaotic as Jenna Ortega described. And remember how we all had speculated that Beetlejuice wouldn't waste time with a song and dance and would try to get through the vows as fast as he could? We were wrong. Beetlejuice apparently thought he had all the time in the world as he starts to lip sync "MacArthur Park" and even had Lydia lip syncing the song to him. His make up got all runny as he wept at his own wedding.

They dance and then Wolf and his SWAT team crash the wedding followed by Delores storming in and Beetlejuice tells her, "It's not you. It's me. I'm just looking for a more soul mate type. You should be with a guy that is more into you."

He magically rips off Rory's shirt to reveal a shirt underneath that says "I Love Delores". Delores is not impressed. And I honestly forgot what happens to Delores but then the Sandworm scene happens and then everything calms down. Lydia, Astrid and Delia try to leave the church but Beetlejuice stops them, reminding Lydia that they have a contract. He pulls out the contract.

But then Astrid remembers something Wolf had mentioned earlier about Beetlejuice violating "Code 669" by bringing a living person to the Neitherword so she states that that means his contract with Lydia is null and void. Beetlejuice's contract proceeds to burst into flame.

Lydia steps forward and says "I'm sorry it didn't work out between us." She says something else that I forgot and proceeds to say his name three times and with each call of his name, Beetlejuice's body inflates more and more until he pops.

Delia promises she'll haunt Lydia and Astrid until they're sick of her. Wolf takes her back to the Neitherworld where Delia reunites with Charles's mangled corpse. It then skips to Lydia announcing the last episode of her show so that she can "start living".

Then it shows Lydia and Astrid traveling together. It looks like they're in Romania/Transylvania where Astrid locks eyes with a cute guy. Then a time skip where Astrid is marrying the guy. Another time skip where Astrid is giving birth. This is where it gets weird. She gives birth to Babyjuice that proceeds to start crawling on the walls. That's when Lydia wakes up, relieved that that was a nightmare when suddenly Beetlejuice leans over her in bed and says, "I just had the strangest dream." Lydia gasps and she wakes up again and slowly looks over to her left to see an empty space and no Beetlejuice.

So I'm guessing that's what that one interviewer guy meant when he told Winona "You sorta got your wish at the end." I guess it means Beetlejuice will always be haunting her and playing the long game of waiting for her. I need to discuss this with someone! What do you think of the spoilers? The ending in particular?

#beetlebabes #beetlebabe #beetlelyds #beetlejuice x lydia #huge beetlejuice beetlejuice spoilers #beetlejuice beetlejuice spoilers

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nanamineedstherapy · 11 days ago

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Mouth to Meat

Cannibal Yakuza Sukuna X [Retracted] F!Reader

Summary: Dr. Y/N L/N is tasked with profiling Ryomen Sukuna, a feared yakuza boss known for his violent tendencies and taste for human flesh. Through a series of therapy sessions, she gains his trust—or so it seems. But Sukuna isn’t the only predator in the room. Behind Y/N’s professional demeanor hides a secret far darker than even Sukuna’s sins. When the masks drop, it’s clear: monsters don’t always look like him.

Trigger Warnings: This chapter contains themes of manipulation, torture, obsessive behavior, and violence (murder), twisted relationships, blood & gore, talks of cannibalism but none actually happening, sadistic behavior, manipulative characters, psychological horror, smut between aged-up characters who are a little OC (maybe idk.) If any of these subjects are sensitive for you, please proceed with caution or consider skipping this chapter.

A/N: I had to write this chapter because I couldn't let the bitch walk into the sunset with Sukuna without consequences. If you came here looking for sanity—you’re in the wrong place. If you came for blood, mind games, and a couple so unhinged they’d make Bonnie and Clyde look like amateurs—welcome home.

Previous Chapter 3 - Unravelling the first Red Threads (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 4 - Love Like a Blade to the Throat (Final Chapter)

20 years later - Prague, Czech Republic

Somewhere within a palace of glass and grandeur.

The scent of roasting flesh wove through the corridors like a lover’s whisper, curling into the opulent sitting room where she sat, framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that bled light from the cloudy day onto the polished parquet.

Outside, the city stretched like a breathing tapestry—cobblestone veins pulsing with life, gothic spires cutting against the deep violet sky—a place of history, of culture, of meat .

She sipped her tea, an exquisite Darjeeling that Uraume had steeped to perfection, the delicate tannins swirling on her tongue, mixing with the ghost of her last meal.

A violinist played in the streets below, a haunting melody rising through the cold air, as if mourning something that hadn't yet died.

Sukuna was away, wrapped up in his Yakuza affairs—uninteresting, irrelevant. His business did not concern her unless it bled into her pleasures. And at this moment, her pleasure was solitude. The slow, methodical unraveling of the next course.

She ran a gloved finger along the gilded rim of her cup, watching the city breathe. The people—faceless, nameless, meaningless—walked beneath her like ants in a glass colony, unaware of their place in the food chain. She could already tell which ones would be worth her time. The elderly, too chewy. The sick, too bitter. The common, too dull.

Then there were the rarities. The ones who smelled of something divine.

She never discriminated. Child, woman, man—if they met her standard, they were meat. She appreciated the fine subtleties: the tender sweetness of youth, the complexity of a well-lived life, the marbled richness of one who indulged in excess. A trained palate could tell everything from scent alone—stress, diet, fear.

The best ones always had a touch of regret, like a delicate aging wine just before its peak.

From the lower levels of the palace, Uraume’s voice murmured instructions to the kitchen staff, knives gliding, bones cracking—the rhythmic symphony of preparation. The air carried the aroma of caramelizing fat, slow-roasted, methodically seasoned. A new acquisition.

A former artist, if she recalled correctly. He had smelled of oil paints and ambition—an excellent vintage.

A faint smile touched her lips as she traced patterns in the condensation on the windowpane.

The Japanese government had been searching for her and Sukuna for years, their relentless pursuit as amusing as it was futile. They had no face to chase and no name to whisper in their war rooms. She was a chameleon, slipping through their fingers like smoke, shifting personas like silk dresses.

She had once been a respected scientist, a leading mind in psychiatric evaluation. They had placed criminals before her, monsters they could not comprehend, and she had dissected them with words sharper than any scalpel.

But none had fascinated her. None had been worthy.

Not until him.

Sukuna.

Now how useful he’d been.

Nanami Kento had smelled of regret, of burnt-out ideals, of controlled rage masked beneath a meticulous routine. It had made his flesh all the more exquisite, the tension of his being seared into every bite.

Gojo Satoru had been more of a curiosity than a meal. A man who reeked of arrogance and saccharine defiance, the taste of him was almost overwhelming—too bright, too indulgent, like a dessert meant to be consumed in small, rare portions. And yet she had devoured him.

Together, they formed a rare combination of different types of meat that complemented each other beautifully. In fact, one could argue that they worked better in tandem than they did alone. The scent of sandalwood and petrichor still overwhelmed her senses whenever she thought of them. They were the only pair she had Sukuna personally age and dry, allowing them to indulge in small, exquisite quantities from time to time.

Their deaths had been art, a composition of pain and revelation. The moment they had realized what she was, what she had always been, had been sublime.

A deep, satisfied breath filled her lungs.

The violinist below finished her song.

A pause.

Then the next piece began—something somber, something hungry.

She smiled, taking another sip of her tea.

One day she’d invite her in for tea, and she’d never breathe again.

Suddenly, the cold kiss of metal pressed against her throat. A whisper of steel, a lover’s caress. The sharp edge bit in, precise, shallow—just enough to let warmth bloom against her skin. The scent of iron curled into the air, mingling with the fading notes of her tea.

She did not flinch.

Instead, she exhaled slowly, setting the cup down with a masterful grace. The porcelain barely whispered against the saucer. Outside, the city droned on, oblivious.

“Who are you?” She mused, voice carrying the weight of detached amusement.

“Doesn’t matter.”

The voice behind her was young. Rough with amusement, tinged with something manic, something starving. Close—too close. His breath skimmed the shell of her ear, warm and cloying with the scent of strawberry candy. That scent—familiar but off, like a memory half-rotted in the recess of her mind.

“All that matters is you are dying.”

A chuckle rumbled low in his throat, the kind that belonged to men who enjoyed carving smiles into others.

Her fingers traced the condensation on the windowpane. “At the very least,” she murmured, unbothered, “I should know who gets the privilege of killing me.”

He laughed, the sound sharp and wild, like the crackle of a fire before it swallowed a home.

“I don’t fulfill my food’s desires.”

So naive. So green.

Whoever this child was, he did not know her.

Did not recognize the years of artistry, the refinement of her craft.

But he would learn.

Her eyes flicked to his hand’s reflection in the glass, catching the faintest silhouette—a shadow barely restrained by flesh. Young. Vibrant. Pulsing with a thrill he did not yet understand.

“And Uraume?” She asked lightly, tilting her head just so. A calculated distraction. “They don’t fit your palate?”

The knife remained against her throat, but the air shifted.

“I don’t like pet meat,” he said with a rumbling laugh, something unhinged curling in his voice.

Her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth. That was when she noticed it. The stillness.

Beneath her, the kitchen, once alive with the symphony of knives and fire, was silent. The staff—silent.

Not even the fire crackled anymore.

The palace was dead.

Her lips curled, amusement flickering beneath her growing hunger.

He had cleaned her table before she could even taste his work.

That was a shame.

And yet, this boy—this laughing, overgrown child—had gotten inside. Past Sukuna’s guards. Past Uraume. That in itself was... commendable .

He would taste divine.

He would taste even better if she hunted him for Sukuna before he came back.

She started her plan. The one that had never failed her before because ‘men always led with their dicks.’

Not that anyone had dared to come after her before this, so the situation would be… unique .

“I know I’m a few years older than you,” she mused, voice as smooth as the tea she had been sipping. “But I’d really like to taste you before I die.”

The blade didn’t waver.

She leaned ever so slightly into it—a delicate pressure, a dance of power.

His grip tensed.

“I can show you things you haven’t even imagined.” She let the words drip like honey, her voice lilting with something dangerous. “Might even ruin you for the rest of your life. Make you compare every woman you meet to me. And if you’ve gotten past the homeowner’s guards, then..." A small, sultry pause. “You must be worthy of a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

His laughter came abruptly, sharp and sudden, like the crack of a gunshot in an empty hall.

“Ahh, sorry, lady.”

He pulled away, hand gripping her jaw instead, forcing her gaze toward the figure—she hadn't noticed—standing in the corner.

Unmoving. Watching.

A man, twenties. Tall. Dark hair unruly, eyes shadowed with something that did not belong in the face of someone young.

Her brain flicked between them. The one behind her—grinning, feral—and the other, silent, still, with the patience of a predator that knew it would eat eventually.

“My boyfriend over there wouldn’t like that very much.”

A slow, teasing drawl.

“And I’m very loyal.”

The boy behind her—her would-be killer—let go of her jaw and took a step in front of her and crouched his gladiator form before her like a child observing a caged bird.

Close enough that the scent of him filled her lungs again—sweet, nostalgic. He reminded her of someone, but not enough. The base notes were there but not the full body of the scent.

Something was wrong.

Something was off .

“Besides,” he continued, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips beneath the large hood, the only part that was visible, “even if I wasn’t loyal and into women…” A pause, like he was savoring it. “I don’t think old hags with sloppy trail would appeal to me.”

Her blood boiled .

She was not old . Just… forties .

She was refined .

At worst, a cougar .

Her grip flexed against the armrest of her chair, nails pressing into the fabric. Her eyes flicked to the silent one in the corner again, his gaze steady, unreadable.

The boy in front of her smirked wider, tilting his head as if he could hear the rage simmering in her bones.

“Besides—” he drawled, a teasing lilt in his voice. “We’re related, Auntie .”

The room went still.

Something curdled in her stomach as he lifted a hand to his hood, peeling it back to reveal—

No.

The hair.

The shape of the jaw.

The way the light caught his features, so damnably familiar but younger, softer, unweathered by the years—

Yuji.

And yet—no.

This was something else entirely.

His grin sharpened, bright and bloodthirsty.

“Long time no see, Aunt.”

She did not let her expression waver.

“I thought you died in childbirth.”

Her voice was smooth, measured, revealing nothing. The wound at her throat was still bleeding, staining the delicate fabric of her dress, but she did not falter.

A lesser creature would have trembled. Would have broken under the weight of inevitability.

But she was not lesser.

Yuji grinned at her, bright and sharp, all teeth and madness. “Aww, well, we can’t all be lucky now, Aunt, can we?” He finished by booping her nose as he stood up to his full mountain height.

There was nothing human in his eyes.

No warmth. No mercy.

Not the kind of insanity she had known in her past lovers, in the men who thought themselves monsters but were simply misguided.

No, this was something else entirely.

This was a creature who would kill her, carve out her ribs, and dance inside the hollow of her corpse, laughing all the while.

He was like her, but tactless.

Her mind turned, cold and quick.

This was bad.

Sukuna’s relationship with Yuji’s family had never been cordial. This would not end well for her.

Not unless she could find an opening.

She refused to die on her knees. She refused to die, caught off-guard.

But before she could move, the other one—the silent one—shifted.

The dark-haired man stepped forward to say something, but Yuji grabbed him by the waist, pulling him flush against his chest in one fluid motion.

She watched as Yuji’s grip tightened possessively before he devoured the other man’s mouth. A hungry, desperate kiss, all sharp edges and insanity.

The raven-haired one stiffened, then let out a low chuckle against Yuji’s lips, something quiet and knowing, something that sent a ripple of unease down her spine. He blushed when Yuji grabbed his ass, his arms tightening around Yuji as he whispered something low, something only for Yuji to hear.

Yuji’s eyes lit up.

“Really?” His voice was laced with anticipation. He dragged his teeth along Megumi’s jaw, breathless. “Ah, Megumi, I can’t wait. I’ll give you anything you want. Whenever and wherever you want it.”

The—Megumi, apparently—blushed deeper.

Yuji kissed him again, slow and lingering, as if he’d just offered Yuji something of value.

It didn’t matter.

None of this did.

Sukuna would be here soon, and these two would be dead.

She pressed the hidden emergency button beneath the window, her fingers barely brushing the smooth surface before retracting.

She cleared her throat, hoping to stall them with empty words.

But then—

The glint of steel.

A flash of silver.

The butcher’s knife buried deep in her throat.

The impact stole her breath. A vicious, grotesque intrusion that sent a violent shudder through her body as the blade tore into her carotid artery.

Her hand flew to the wound instinctively, fingers pressing against the gaping, bleeding maw at her neck, but it was already over.

Yuji’s voice ripped through the room.

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking to Megumi!”

His face was painted in her blood, crimson streaks dripping from his chin, spattered across his cheekbones like a masterpiece of slaughter.

And he still hadn’t moved his other hand from Megumi’s waist.

Still hadn’t looked at her when he plunged the blade in deeper, twisting it viciously, backhanded, with the same ease as one might swat away an insect.

Her vision blurred.

She felt the warmth of her own life spilling down her chest, soaking into the fabric of her dress, pooling at her feet.

No.

No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

Her breath hitched, gurgling as blood filled her lungs, drowning her from the inside out. Her body convulsed, her fingers trembling as they clutched at her own throat, her own wound, desperate and useless.

Yuji barely spared her another glance, his attention already back on Megumi, his lips curling in delight as if she were nothing more than an afterthought.

Nothing more than meat.

Her body sagged forward, her consciousness slipping—

And the last thing she saw before the darkness swallowed her whole was the way Megumi smirked against Yuji’s lips, eyes glinting with something ancient, something feral, something that whispered—

‘You never stood a chance.’

She was dead.

Should have been dead.

Should have succumbed to the darkness seeping into her veins, to the heat of her own blood pooling beneath her like a grotesque lover’s embrace.

But she wasn’t… dead .

Not yet.

With the last remnants of her strength, she moved.

Ripped the blade from her throat, lunged—

Yuji caught her effortlessly.

Like she was nothing.

Like she was a toy whose final act of defiance only amused him.

With an almost bored flick of his wrist, he sent her sprawling onto the cold marble, her body smacking against the ground with a wet, sickening sound. Before she could recover, before she could even breathe, he was on top of her, straddling her hips, his full weight pressing into her lungs, into her ribs, into her very existence.

She gasped. The world narrowed to the warmth of his breath, the press of his steel thighs caging her in, the sickly-sweet scent of strawberry candy, thick and artificial, tainting the coppery tang of her own blood.

Yuji leaned in close, his lips ghosting over her throat where she bled out, inhaling deeply.

“Aww, the hag fights.”

His voice was honeyed mockery, dripping with amusement.

She glared at him.

He grinned, sharp and wolfish, his nose grazing the sticky, open wound at her throat.

“Ahh, you smell nice.” He exhaled, letting the warmth of his breath trail down her skin. “But I’m not sophisticated like you, Aunt. I can’t even point out what you smell like.”

She clenched her teeth, fury crackling through her veins.

“Aww, are you mad because you’re going to be eaten?” he murmured, tilting his head, “or because you’ll be eaten by someone so uncultured?”

She wanted to spit at him, to carve her rage into his flesh, but her body was no longer hers to control.

The corners of his lips curled, delighting in her weakening form.

The edges of her vision blurred. Her limbs felt leaden. The air, thick with blood, became harder and harder to pull into her failing lungs.

Yuji tsked, shaking his head as he sat back, still straddling her, still watching the light fade from her eyes.

“I guess the mystery dies with you.” He pouted, disappointed. “Such a shame. I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, almost tender if not for the cruelty in his touch.

“You were my hero once,” he murmured, voice softer now, as if he were speaking to a childhood ghost. Then, with a sneer, he added, “And yet, you die like everyone else—pathetic. Gasping for air.”

He stood, her body already cooling beneath him.

Her vision darkened. The last thing she saw was Megumi, silent and watchful, stepping forward to press a bottle of bleach into Yuji’s waiting hand.

Yuji grinned, kissed Megumi’s cheek, and then—

The stench of chemicals flooded her senses.

The burn was instant. It set her nerves ablaze.

She screamed.

And he laughed.

She screamed again, her body thrashing weakly against the inevitable, her own agony peeling her mind apart like a scalpel to flesh—

And he laughed louder, tilting his head.

The last thing she felt was fire.

The last thing she heard was Megumi’s low, amused chuckle as Yuji whispered something against his lips.

Then—nothing.

The body was still warm when Yuji whipped his face of her blood and shoved Megumi onto the nearest table.

The same table she had sat at just moments ago, sipping her tea, watching the city below like some untouchable queen.

Now, she was nothing more than a stain on the floor.

With a smooth motion from one hand, Yuji’s hoodie hit the ground, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, the play of muscles shifting as he rolled his shoulders. His breath was heavy, the scent of blood and bleach clinging to his skin like perfume.

Megumi barely had time to react before Yuji’s hands were on him— grabbing, pulling, owning .

He smirked against his boyfriend’s lips.

They fucked right next to her body.

Yuji bit his neck in return, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to leave a mark that would linger.

Megumi’s head tipped back, his voice breaking into something raw, something real.

The palace walls swallowed his cries, but the floors beneath them carried the sound two stories down.

They didn’t care.

Not when Yuji’s fingers dug into Megumi’s thighs, gripping tight, possessive, worshipping in a way only a monster could.

Not when Megumi's nails raked over Yuji’s shoulders, down his spine, carving half-moons into muscle until he, unknowingly, drew bits of blood as he shuddered under him.

Not when Yuji leaned down, peppering lazy kisses along Megumi’s jaw, down his throat, whispering, “You drive me insane, babe. I love you, so… so so much.” Each word punctuated by a deep thursts that had Megumi ascending.

And Megumi—Megumi, who never surrendered, who fought against every chain the world tried to place on him—simply whispered back, breathless, ruined, “I... I love you.”

Yuji tugged his hair, making space for himself so that he could leave his marks undisturbed. Biting and licking while his movements never slowed down.

The doors slammed open, the room shaking with Sukuna’s presence before he even spoke.

“What the fuck are you doing here, brat?” His voice was a growl, venomous and sharp. His crimson eyes flared, scanning the room— blood, bleach, a corpse.

Then his gaze snapped to Megumi.

His eyes darkened.

“And why the hell is your whore here?”

Megumi flinched, his dazed mind barely processing the insult.

Instinctively, his head dipped, pressing against Yuji’s chest, letting Yuji’s larger frame shield him from Sukuna’s line of sight.

Yuji, however—oh, Yuji did not pause.

Did not falter.

Did not even acknowledge the shift in atmosphere.

Instead, he turned his head, growling over his shoulder, voice thick with warning, dripping with something feral.

“Don’t fucking call him a whore.”

No threat. No bravado. No posturing.

Just a statement of fact.

Sukuna’s expression twitched.

Something flickered in those crimson eyes.

But whatever rage threatened to boil over, whatever punishment he had prepared, was forgotten when Yuji turned back to Megumi and continued—as Yuji felt him clench around him.

The sex was always good with Yuji, but the moments like these were what made Megumi turned on for Yuji impossibly more.

Not the voyeurism, definitely not.

Not the power.

But the devotions.

Megumi trembled, overwhelmed, undone, his entire body wrecked from the sheer force of it.

The last push, the final claim, and Megumi’s entire body shattered.

His teeth sank into Yuji’s shoulder to stifle his voice, his breath stuttering, drowning in sensation.

Yuji—strong, brutal, relentless—pressed kisses over Megumi’s hair, whispering low praises against his damp skin.

He followed soon after, burying himself deep, his fingers gripping Megumi’s waist just rough enough to hold him still, but never enough to bruise.

Even in pleasure, Yuji never hurt him.

A moment passed.

Then another.

The world slowed, settled, the tension shifting from chaos to something intimate.

Still covering him, still inside, Yuji reached for the throw blanket on the couch and draped it over Megumi’s body before pressing a soft kiss and pulling out.

Megumi, oversensitive and in love, almost whined at the loss.

Yuji kissed his nose to shush him.

Megumi, still dazed, still shaking, flushed at the warmth of it.

Yuji smirked, his voice dropping low, intimate, teasing.

“We’ll continue this in a bit.”

Megumi shivered.

He simply nodded, weakly tugging his hoodie over his head.

Yuji once dressed turned to face Sukuna, who had long since given up trying to understand whatever the hell this was. He was busy thinking.

The scent of bleach clung to the air, thick and suffocating.

His eyes flickered between the cooling corpse on the floor and the empty space where his most trusted guards should have been.

Uraume was still missing.

His staff—missing.

His castle—silent.

And standing before him now, with all the arrogance of a cat that had just torn open a bird’s throat and left it twitching in the dirt, was Yuji.

The brat yawned, stretching as if this were a casual visit. He tugged his hoodie into place, nonchalant, unbothered, unshaken.

“I came to talk retirement plans, Unc.”

Sukuna’s eyes darkened.

The casualness. The audacity.

“I will kill you,” Sukuna growled, voice low, filled with venom. Then, with a wicked sneer, he added, “Then I’ll rape your whore.”

The words were designed to provoke.

Yuji’s brows twitched, but instead of the usual explosion—the feral, bloodthirsty rage Sukuna had come to expect from him ever since learning of his existence a few months ago—Yuji smirked.

Because Yuji knew.

Knew that not reacting would send Sukuna spiraling faster than any violent outburst ever could.

“How, though?” Yuji tilted his head, voice mockingly curious. “It’s not like you’ll live long enough for that.”

Sukuna’s scowl deepened. “Threats don’t work on me.”

"Ahh, but don’t you wanna know where she went?” Yuji asked lazily. Like he didn’t really care.

Sukuna had gotten an emergency pop-up; he didn’t think it was serious; he thought she was misusing it again because she just wanted some dick in the middle of the day.

Then realization slithered into his veins like ice water.

His gaze darted to the corner by the windows.

The corner where she always sat.

The dress—the dress he had bought her a few days ago, flickred to recognition—now just another piece of ruined fabric, clinging to a lifeless body.

Bleached.

Burned.

Destroyed beyond recognition.

A sound tore from Sukuna’s throat, something raw, something he didn’t recognize.

Rage?

No.

No, it was something worse.

Yuji barely gave him a moment to process before he moved.

Fast.

Effortless.

Like he was born to kill kings.

The same massive knife drove straight into Sukuna’s skull.

Sukuna fell to his knees.

Blood poured, thick and hot, down his face, into his mouth. His body screamed at him to fight, to consume the brat and spit his bones out across the marble floor—

But he couldn’t.

His limbs refused to obey.

Yuji crouched beside him on all fours, watching with the fascination of a child pulling the wings off an insect.

Sukuna growled, lips parting to curse him, to end him—

But his tongue was useless.

His voice was gone.

The knife in his skull was cutting through everything.

He knew.

He was dying.

“Damn, Unc,” Yuji mused, tapping the handle of the knife like it was nothing more than a misplaced ornament. “I expected more.”

Sukuna’s fingers twitched, reaching, reaching—

Yuji tsked, shaking his head.

“Pathetic,” he sighed. “You know, I was gonna eat you fancy-like. High fashion. Cannibal couture.” He grinned, teeth flashing, eyes glinting with unhinged amusement. “But now? Nah. I think I’ll deep fry your ass. Serve you up with ketchup. Maybe even wrap you in a burrito with some gas station nacho cheese.”

Sukuna’s vision blurred.

His limbs weakened.

He was crawling now.

Dragging himself across the floor, inch by inch, toward her.

Yuji let him.

Watched, entertained, before lazily kicking away the furniture Sukuna tried to use for support.

“Oops.”

Sukuna barely heard it.

Barely cared.

His fingers brushed against hers.

Cold.

Lifeless.

She had gone before him.

And now—he was following.

His vision blackened.

The last thing he heard was Yuji’s voice, light, teasing, victorious.

“You know, Uncle, it’s kinda funny,” he hummed. “I did in a day what the Japanese spies couldn’t do in years.”

And then—

Darkness.

---

Japan

The scent of burnt flesh still lingered in Megumi’s nostrils as he stood by the Mustang GT , eyes hidden behind sunglasses, hands in his pockets, waiting.

The city was alive behind him—the murmur of passing cars, the distant wail of sirens. Tokyo never stopped.

Neither did they.

He could still recall how they had to tie Sukuna along with his woman to a boulder and sink him in the ocean. Being cannibals sounded absolutely disgusting to both him and Yuji; it was more to piss her and Sukuna off in there final moments.

A woman and her son approaching broke him out of his thoughts.

The woman—blonde, aged by grief rather than years—moved stiffly, as if the weight of her own bones was too much to bear. Her son, broad-shouldered, protective, walked beside her like a silent bodyguard, one hand resting on her shoulder as if that could shield her from reality. He had to grow up too quickly when his older brother, some long white-haired idiot, got kidnapped by Y/N years ago, and they serched but found absolutely nothing until he met Megumi in college.

Megumi didn’t acknowledge them beyond extending his hand. The woman pressed a thick envelope of cash into his palm, fingers trembling.

He took it without looking.

In exchange, he handed her his envelope.

Inside was—photographs.

The last remnants of the woman she had spent decades searching for.

The last proof that her nightmare had an ending.

Her breath hitched as she flipped through them, her shoulders sagging with a relief that was almost indistinguishable from sorrow. Tears rolled down her cheeks, silent, exhausted.

Megumi turned to the son, offering him the envelope of cash back.

“Take this,” he said, voice as flat as dead air. “Leave the country. Never return.”

The son hesitated and looked at Megumi like he wanted to say something. But in the end, he took the money.

And they left.

Megumi watched Todo and his mother, Yuki Tsukumo, disappear into the Tokyo sunlight.

It had been years since Megumi first realized the world wasn’t made of heroes and villains—just predators and prey.

When he was a child, someone had killed his father’s best friend, his godfather, Gojo Satoru, Japan’s former defense minister. The same person had slaughtered Gojo’s husband, Nanami Kento, the nation’s most renowned psychiatric scientist for the criminally insane.

The murderer was never caught.

Not because there was no evidence. Not because there were no suspects.

But because no one ever saw the culprits again.

The perfect crime.

Or so they thought.

When Megumi entered university, he found him.

Itadori Yuji.

Shy, socially awkward, nerdy Yuji.

Yuji, who stuttered when Megumi looked at him too long.

Yuji, who was too eager to please, too quick to latch onto Megumi’s words like they were commandments from God.

Yuji, whose hands twitched when he thought no one was looking.

Yuji, who would do anything for him.

That was when Megumi knew.

Someone had to replace Geto Suguru after his unfortunate suicide.

And who better than Megumi himself.

The plan he had crafted with Higuruma would succeed. And it did.

Yuji wasn’t just insane.

He was Megumi’s brand of insane.

The problem was his family.

Toji and his sisters Maki and Mai were now breathing down his neck to let them ‘protect’ Megumi from Yuji.

He wasn’t supposed to become this insane.

They were watching, waiting for proof that Yuji had rotted beyond repair.

That he was too far gone.

For Megumi to kill him and clear his own name, forever.

They didn’t understand.

Yuji wasn’t a mistake.

Yuji was in love.

And Megumi didn’t want a love that came with boundaries wrapped in ‘unconditional’ packaging.

Megumi didn’t want a love who wouldn’t kill for him

Once he knew what he could have, he didn’t want to get back to dating a partner who would turn into just another ordinary 9-to-5 nobody—some lifeless, gutless thing that spent years chasing him only to grow fat and complacent the second he confessed.

Someone who’d let their body and mind wither, who would suck the life from him, siphon his ideas, drain his passion until he was nothing but a husk.

Sucking up his energy and drive and keep taking and taking until there is nothing left to take, then one day wake up and tell Megumi he’s changed. He’s not socially acceptable in one way or the other; he isn’t this or that when they never look at themselves.

No.

Megumi didn’t want it at any cost.

He wanted Yuji.

Because Yuji would never stop chasing him.

Yuji would never stop seeing him, loving him, prioritizing him over everything and everyone—even his own blood.

Yuji would never become complacent in any way that hurts Megumi.

Megumi wanted a love that could burn the world down for him all the while smiling about it.

And Yuji gave him that.

For seven years now, Yuji had proven it, time and time again.

He had slit throats and burned bodies and erased entire bloodlines for him.

He had made Megumi the center of his universe.

And Megumi would never settle for less.

So he decided.

He opened the car door with a click and slid inside.

Warm arms wrapped around him immediately.

Yuji’s lips ghosted over his temple, lingering, slow.

“You look like a hot celebrity in sunglasses, Megumi,” Yuji murmured in his ear, voice husky. “Keep wearing those.”

Megumi grumbled, but his face betrayed him, the blush creeping up his neck.

Yuji grinned, turned the ignition and shifted gears.

The Mustang GT roared to life, leaving the past in flames behind them.

A/N: And that concludes this love story—if you can even call it that. A relationship built on devotion, manipulation and an unholy amount of meat.

All Works Masterlist

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aepycerotini · 7 months ago

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Dean being a dom only in such a way that continues and is an extension of his "must take care of Sammy" role...

Dean, assigned caretaker at birth.

He's the hero here to save you! To save the world! But most of all, and it will trump anyone else including and not limited to the other eight billion people on the planet, he's here to make sure Sammy is okay, topside and breathing. He will risk himself, he will risk you and your spouse and your children and mother father aunt and cousin, he will damn the world to hell to save Sammy.

Does Dean always know the best thing for Sammy? Well...

When Sam shows agency, when he makes his own choices outside of Dean's caretaking, well that's dangerous - it's harder to care for someone choosing all that danger. The crux of so many arguments is because Sam can't agree that he's putting himself, the most important thing in the whole world, at risk. He's the queen all the pawns are falling for! So it's a betrayal to see him choosing to get dirty.

Dean doesn't always know best but he's trying. He's often bad at the concept (what does it mean for sam to be safe) and the follow through (it'll hurt now but you won't be dead later, though I may be and that's a fair price to pay). Dean only has to hurt Sammy for his own good!

Dean is the reason "you can't take care of anyone unless you take care of yourself first" exists. He'd not see the point though.

Dean can't always read the room but he can read Sam. (or can he) Is it just wish fulfillment? Is Dean's brand of caretaking just his own needs boiled down bottled up and injected directly into Sammy's prefrontal cortex. Are his choices made for a version of Sam that exclusively lives in his head?

It's a real chicken and the egg thing.

I don't have a specific head cannon for who is top and who is bottom. Because sometimes I need bitchy bratty bottom!Dean or soft dom top!Sam or slutty baby boy bottom!Sam or protective growly top!Dean or needy whiny bottom!Dean or-

These boys just have the kind of relationship where they are both switches because what they need changes moment to moment and their brother is always there, ready to be whatever the other needs him to be.

#Dean has no concept of the weight “i will kill myself for you” does to someone he doesn't even fully see as an independent person #Murder suicide bros #Dean will end universes for Sam #And if sam has to die so does he and vice versa #Which is why imo the finale doesn't entirely work for the show we got for 15 years #Yeah sam got his life and makes his own choices but is likely guided by the ghost of Dean #But they should've died together #Bonnie and Clyde babey

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blingblong55 · 9 months ago

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Ghost doesn’t like Valentine’s Day, hates it. Everyone is so full of love and all is pink, bastards all in love and he’s home, trying to escape the declares of love. Reader, oh that sweet girl, she comes into his life and he hates it. On the night of all the love and fools, he goes to the firing range. Practices his shooting with different guns and then, as he reloads, Reader comes in. “Hey, loser.” Reader says and god does he love…*cough*…hate that voice.

“Why are you here, y/n,” he asks, not having none of her bs. “You once mentioned that Valentine’s Day massacre, that it oddly attracts you. So…I’m here with this,” she shows him the guns, two, one for him and her. “Let’s Bonnie and Clyde style this range, baby- I mean L.t.,” she says and looks at the guns after her correction. “This might be the one time I like you, y/n,” he smiles and takes a gun. She does the same and they both aim at the targets.

He looks at her, maybe this Valentine’s Day thing is worth it with his sweet Bonnie.

#cod mw2 #cod #mwii #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost riley #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley cod #cod simon riley #simon riley imagine

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bloodismymedium · 3 months ago

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🔪Even More Mona Lanius Headcanons🎨

🫀 Mona speaks in a flat, monotone yet raspy/scratchy voice and is almost always speaking in a whisper, she sounds like what I imagine a ghost sounding like, unnatural yet kind of beautiful.

🫀 Mona is a chain smoker, which is a contributing factor to why her voice is so raspy sounding. Bill was an alcoholic who used alcohol to drown his violent, psychopathic thoughts but he quit after meeting Mona.

🫀 Mona genuinely smells like death, like a mix of rotting flesh and strong paint/chemical fumes. Her smelling like a corpse is caused by a combination of bromhidrosis (chronic body odor) and the fact that she constantly surrounds herself with death and decay.

🫀 Mona will often mix some of the blood of her victims in with her paints when she makes their paintings, a way of further immortalizing them and what she did to them as well as a twisted way of paying tribute to them, like she’s actually “thanking” them in being a part of her artistic endeavors.

🫀 Mona is of Ecuadorian and Romanian descent. Mona has no real sentimental connection to her heritage however as she doesn’t speak a lick of Spanish or Romanian and her parents never really taught her anything about her heritage either.

🫀 Mona is scary good in using all types of knives and other kinds of bladed implements thanks to years in learning how to use them in many contexts, such as learning how to cut and dress meat after hunting trips with her father as a child to “practicing” on her victims. She knows a fair number of knife tricks as well.

🫀 Mona and Bill started off as equals, a real Bonnie & Clyde type of duo but Bill’s deteriorating mental state caused by fully embracing his psychosis and being fed a LOT of drugs and painkillers resulted in him essentially becoming more of a guard dog. Mona is fine with this since she finds it cute and likes that she has a more dominant role now ⛓️

🫀 Mona and Bill were not going to kill Tina but rather they were planning on “adopting” her because Mona became enamored with her and wanted to “keep” her. Mona blinded and deafened Tina in order to make her 100% dependent on her and was planning on cutting her arms and legs off completely as well to achieve this.

🫀 Mona in general exhibits an odd desire to be a mother, which is exhibited in quirks such as keeping dolls and playing with them as if they were her children. This is especially apparent in the “baby” she made for herself from what she deemed as the “best parts” of the babies she killed when she blew up a daycare, she sings/hums to it, cradles it softly and even keeps it in an old Victorian stroller.

🫀 Despite this, Mona fucking HATES kids because they all remind her of all the mistreatment and abuse she took from kids in her neighborhood when she was a child, which is why what she did to the Beck twins would become what most would consider to be one of her most brutal murders. To her, it was personal.

🫀 Mona has a habit of preserving things in jars of formaldehyde whether they be internal organs, fetuses/infants, cool bugs, even stuffed animals. She only does this when something has really stood out to her, even seemingly random things she has chosen to preserve has significant, even sentimental reasons behind it.

🫀 Mona, perhaps unsurprisingly, is a huge art nerd. She has studied art since a very young age and has great knowledge of art history, she’s surprisingly insightful and engaging when she talks about art and she actually would’ve made a great art teacher. Her favorite painter as a child was Frida Kahlo.

🫀 Mona’s favorite paintings are The Garden of Earthly Delights (Heironymus Bosch), Saturn Devouring His Son (Francisco Goya), The Hands Resist Him (Bill Stoneham), The Fall of the Rebel Angels (Pieter Bruegel), The Wounded Deer (Frida Kahlo), The Anguished Man (unknown) and Night Creeper (Zdzislaw Beksinski). She’s a big fan of Beksinski’s work in general.

#urbanspook #urbanspook the painter #the painter #mona lanius #bill collins #tina rosenburg #headcanons #check out my other headcanons if you haven’t😉

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montyfinchirl · 4 months ago

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Some Dead Boy Detectives Halloween Headcanons

Headcanons

halloween was the only time of year the boys ever change clothes until very recently

they like to people watch during halloween, go on walks and look at everyone’s costumes

charles hates that he can’t eat candy anymore and every year Edwin tries and fails to find a spell that’ll let them taste food again

the boys both HATE horror movies secretly, they tried to watch them in the 2000s but always leave the cinema halfway through

Charles always decorates the office for halloween, he tries to discreetly get Edwin to leave for a couple hours so he can surprise him but Edwin always knows, he goes along with it anyway.

On their latest halloween, Crystal wanted Charles to do a couples costume with her but Charles refused because he and Edwin always match and he wanted it to stay that way (that made Edwin cry)

Edwin secretly loves vampires, he tried to read Twilight once and threw the book out their office window after half an hour

Charles loves werewolves, Niko showed him the twilight movies and he unknowingly developed a crush on Jacob

Edwin reads classic spooky novels to Charles during October

Charles finds it strange they never get any clients on Halloween but doesn’t mind because he has such a good time anyway

Edwin uses every spell and charm he can to deter clients on Halloween so no one ruins Charles’ (and secretly his) fun.

Costumes

Every year since 1992 Edwin and Charles have done matching costumes (it took Charles three halloweens of convincing).

(Try to guess which years Edwin chose their costumes and which years Charles did)

1992- Vampire and Werewolf

1994- Stereotypical ghosts (The sheets with holes for eyes)

1996- Sherlock and Watson (the year Edwin finally stopped pretending he didn’t enjoy it)

1998- Devil and Angel (they both ended up in devil costumes, thinking the other would be the angel)

2000- Achilles and Patroclus

2002- Each other

2004- Frog and Toad

2006- Bert and Ernie

2008- Sun and Moon

2010- Bowser and Princess Peach

2012- The Mad Hatter and The March Hare

2014- Pirates

2016- Jekyll and Hyde

2018- Bonnie and Clyde

2020- Skeletons (Just like the intro)

2022- Velma and Shaggy (Crystal was Daphne and Niko was Fred)

in conclusion, my fucking god these bitches gay good for them good for them

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detective netflix #charles rowland #edwin payne #edwin paine #payneland #paynland #paineland #painland #halloween #halloween costumes #headcanons #im so silly and gay

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chrisesslut · 14 days ago

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𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒊 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ my c.ai bot request form ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤 ｡･::･ﾟ★｡･::･ﾟ☆

-💍 || forced marriage ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you and matt both come from two different mafia families. money unfortunately will always come first and you get sold away to a marriage and you have to be a good, obedient mafia wife.

-💫 || bonnie and clyde ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

a southern mafia couple, just almost like bonnie and clyde.

-💘 || feelings ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

expressing your feelings is hard, especially for you. what happens when this starts to interfere with the relationship?

-💔 || right person, wrong time. ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you and matt have broken up. it hit you alot harder than it did him. you saw him at a halloween party with the reason of your breakup.

-🎀 || sweet girl ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

matt had a major crush on you- not even just a crush he’s absolutely obsessed. everything about you is just so perfect to him and he can’t help that he’s obsessed.

-🪷 || mommy issues ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

matt has mommy issues and he finally decides to tell you.

-💧 || crybaby ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you’re a huge crybaby and matt can’t help but absolutely adore you for it. you’re getting ready for college and your hair is just an absolute mess and the emotions start to flow.

-✈️ || airplane ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you have crippling anxiety and the airport and airplane only makes it worse. who’s idea was is to create a giant flying metal bird?

- 📱 || keep talkin’ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you and matt are bestfriends and call fairly often when you’re not having a sleepover. except this time something is definitely off…

- 👻 || ghostface ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

ever wondered what it was like to be ghost-face’s fuck buddy?

- 👑 || princess ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you fucked the prince of portugal for the first time last year and fuck were you addicted. except there’s one problem… it’s strictly forbidden for any of the younger royalty to date or do absolutely anything relationship related in the royal world.

- 🐈 || volunteering ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you volunteer in a pet shelter with the sweetest guy ever and- ohmygod is he cute too.

𝙘𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤 ｡･::･ﾟ★｡･::･ﾟ☆

- 💒 || wedding crashed ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you are getting married to your husband jay, except your ex of 7 years shows up, THE chris sturniolo

- 🚿 || knock next time ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you’re looking for chris in his house and you can’t find him so obviously you should just walk right into the bathroom right?

- 🪫 || rejection ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

chris rejects you, it’s in the title.

- 🍃 || dealer ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

chris is your dealer boyfriend and you’re his moneymaker.

- 🤫 || secret ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you and chris are secretly dating because of his crazy possessive fans. he’s on live and you accidentally walk in… oh shit.

- 📞 || not your phone ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

that was definitely NOT your phone.

- 🍼 || toxic baby daddy ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

having a shitty ass baby daddy that still lives and mooches off you is not for the weak. especially when he doesn’t actually do anything.

- 🙄 || daddy’s baby ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

chris seriously just cannot help but baby you at all times.

- 🎤 || rapper & singer ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

a secret relationship between popular artists gets hard launched on stage.

- 💤 || roomates ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you are in a rush and need help finding shit but ofcourse chris; your roommate, is dead asleep after another productive night of partying and smoking.

- 🧼 || roomates (part 2) ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

once again, you need to leave like NOW but can’t find absolutely anything. chris is in the shower so you go ask him.

- 🎧 || producer ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

chris is your producer and you literally couldn’t ask for anything more, he’s perfect.

- 🏫 || stuck ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

two enemies locked in a school overnight; what happens?

- 🚓 || prison call ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you get a call from your dealer boyfriend… except it’s from suffolk county jail, what the actual fuck.

- 🛏️ || weird sounds? ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you and chris are having a sleepover. you’re both sleeping peacefully through the night… well maybe not so much chris.

- 🚪 || he’s back ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

chris comes back from juvie and first thing he does is visit you, his bestest friend.

- 🖇️ || tour bus ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

sharing a tiny ass bunk bed with chris is hard.

- 💗 || clingy ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

your clingy boyfriend at a party.

- 🃏 || joker ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

you’re the harley quinn to his joker (inspired by suicide squad)

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spacerockwriting · 4 months ago

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Galladrabbles: Autumn

Feeling very Halloween-y right now .

Thanks to @millennium-time-machine for the @galladrabbles prompt!

Autumn

“Mick, no, we’re not going as Bonnie and Clyde for Halloween.”

“M’not goin’ as fuckin….what’re they? Fuckin’ puppets?”

“Bert and Ernie.”

“Fuck, no. If we have to go as something to your brothers dumb party, it sure ain’t gonna be that.”

“Oh!” Ian exclaims. “I could be a farmer, and you could be my harvested crop.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, no. How bout you go as the ghost, and I go as the guy who murdered ya ‘cause all these ideas are fucking stupid.”

“Or,” Ian huffs. “We could just not go at all.”

“Fantastic. Best idea you’ve had all night.”

#Mickey just wants to go as something scary or sexy nothing lame #Ian wants the couple costume #I saw the bit about farmer Ian and i had to cackle because he would want to be a farmer #what do they end up going as? Whatever gives Lip the face palm when he opens the door #gallavich #galladrabbles #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #ian gallagher

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writersdrug · 1 year ago

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Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 3)

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Summary: Price has a solution to end the fighting between you and Ghost - permanently.

Chapter Warnings: cursing

Notes: Aaand here's the next chapter. Things are about to get better(?) in the next few. Konig will appear soon, I promise. Ghost will be absent for a bit though. Might write some oneshots for him to keep yall happy in the meantime. But ch. 4 is in the works!!

(Y/N) (M/I) (L/N)

“BONNIE”

D.O.B. 10.22.94 / D.O.S. 10.22.13

Navy Seal, USSF / Sniper / Marksman

-----

Price had knocked on my door this morning, waking me up at an ungodly hour on my day off. “Come to my office at nine hundred. Don’t disappoint me.” He had said. He then walked off, leaving me in the doorway with a rats’ nest head of hair and puffy eyes from crying the night before. I stared into the hallway as I processed his words. Figures… throwing a knife at Ghost wasn’t the smartest thing to do.

I peered out beyond my doorframe, watching as Price stopped in front of Ghost’s door. It creaked open, words were exchanged briefly, and then Price moved on. There was a long pause before Ghost’s door slammed shut, followed by a bang as he punched the wall in his dorm.

What a child…

I looked back in front of me; Soap, whose dorm was adjacent to mine, was poking his head out. He winced mockingly. “Ouch… I think he didn’t like your assassination attempt, lass.” He mimicked me throwing my knife.

I stared at him for a moment, unamused. “Go fuck a donkey, Soap.” I barely caught a glimpse of his pout before I slammed my door shut.

-----

I got there at nine hundred on the dot, my hair still wet from my shower, and for the first time since I had met him, Price was the one who was late. Or rather, held up in his office by someone. But, nonetheless, his streak of punctuality was broken. A bad omen, for sure…

I listened, unintentionally, to the conversation in Price’s office. I heard him speaking with a man I heard called “Jax” – a higher-up, a therapist, someone from the “HR” of the military… I didn’t know who he was. But it appeared he would be deciding how Ghost and I would get reprimanded for the rift we were causing within the team.

“Bonnie?” said the unfamiliar voice. “Like Bonnie and Clyde?” followed by an affirmative grunt from Price. “Why?”

“She’s got looks, she’s small, but she’d blow your head open for the thrill of it. And you’d best believe she never misses, either.”

The unknown man paused, glancing over the file – my file, I could tell – and reading the details. “Sniper, marksman, Navy SEAL…“

Price huffed. “Stealth is her specialty. If her head is in the game, she’s a quick thinker, and an even quicker hitman – she once took out a whole checkpoint on her own. Killed ‘em all in less than a minute n’ a half, never even made a sound.”

The man whistled low in admiration. “How’d you get your hands on her?”

“Military couldn’t handle her attitude,” Price admitted, “but they didn’t want to waste the talent either. Bought her off of them before she could end up in the wrong hands.” He sounded smug.

“Leave it to you to pull an operations team out your ass, Price.”

“If it were that easy I’d have a lot more soldiers, Jax.”

The muffled lull of their conversation continued, and my mind refocused on what I had planned to say to Price. It was never supposed to be this messy. We both made a mistake, and a damn big one. We caused issues for the team, we were only thinking of ourselves… basically, share my side of the story, and admit and own up to it all. It was the truth, after all, as well as the best possible way to come out of Price’s office with my head and my job.

Of course, I’d leave out the part where Ghost insulted me – more than once. Or, where he was the one who started the fight in the hall. I mean, technically I did… but I was trying to right my wrong, he had no reason to go after me. Why did he do that? I suddenly realized that Ghost had been seeking out fights ever since a month ago. At first, we avoided each other, but he was the one who lurked around in places I frequented, just to single me out and argue.

That fucking prick.

The conversation in Price’s office ended, ended, and the door swung open. A tall, burly man stepped out: he looked down at me with scrutiny. I stared back. He chuckled.

I tilted my head up and narrowed my eyes. “Can I fucking help you?”

“I guess we’ll see.” He replied, before walking away with a smirk on his face. I scoffed in disgust just as Price stepped out of the office.

“C’mon in, Bonnie.” He stepped aside and gestured me into the office. I reluctantly stood, stretching my limbs and trying to seem unbothered, and entered. Price closed the door behind us. Feels like I’m a kid again in the principal’s office.

I took a seat in the chair facing his desk and immediately stared at the ground. I was hoping this was just going to be some stern, disciplinary lecture. Don’t let it happen again. Which I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have lashed out at all, if Ghost hadn’t been pushing every single one of my buttons, when he was the one who created this whole landslide in the first place. Honestly if Ghost had just acted like nothing had ever even happened, like I was trying to do –

“- Bonnie, you with me?” Price said, snapping me back to the present. He was now sitting across from me and waving a hand in my direction.

I cleared my throat, doing a poor job at hiding my anxiety. “Yes sir.”

“Alright then. Let’s talk about it.”

I nodded. “Well, after the job in Mexico, maybe about a year – “

“Oh no, no…” Price cut me off with a shake of his head. “I don’t need a recap. I know everything that the two of you have been up to. The whole damn base does.”

I felt a shameful blush rise into my cheeks. If I had any confidence before walking into Price’s office, it was long gone by now. “Oh…” I mumbled.

“‘Oh’?” Price repeated. “Don’t tell me you actually thought you were goin’ under everyone’s nose, did you?” He tapped his pen on his desk with an irritated look. “Aren’t you supposed to be an ex Navy SEAL, here?”

I stared back at him, unamused and unphased by his comment. “Ok, so we may not have tried that hard to keep it a secret. But it was initially just a casual thing.”

Price nodded as he listened. “Initially… so what did it turn into? Because this – “ he gestured to me with a flourish of his pen, “ – is not from something casual.”

I couldn’t answer him. I averted my eyes to his desk, feeling his eyes burning into mine. Into my soul, trying to bring me to the breaking point. But if there was one thing I was perfect at, it was avoiding. So I let myself burn under his gaze, knowing the storm would eventually pass. One way or another.

Price sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Look, it happens. You throw a bunch of people in a room, deprive them for a few months, and stress them the hell out – they’re bound to make mistakes.”

There was that fucking word again.

“I won’t lie, I’ve been there myself.” Price continued, and I raised a curious eyebrow at him. He ignored it. “And I’m not going to try and prevent it, it’ll only muck things up more. But, when it causes such an issue that my entire team is suffering, something needs to be done. And clearly you and Ghost aren’t reaching any solutions.”

I chewed my lip, leaning my elbows on my knees and anxiously bouncing my knee. I wanted to jump in and tell him my side of the story. I knew for a fact that Price had let Ghost spill his guts on the subject. He always listened to him no matter what. I wanted to explain why I was angry, exactly what Ghost had said and how I had felt – but I know he wouldn’t listen. Not to mention, it would have been extremely personal.

“So, going off of that –“ Price reached across his desk and grabbed a pile of papers, “ – I found a solution for the both of you.”

I sighed. Therapy, workplace relationship, probably anger management for me… Honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he suggested one of us moves to the other side of the barracks –

“That man out there? ‘Jax’. Director of a private military group, just like us.” He flopped the papers on the desk in front of me. I hesitated, looking at Price with confusion, to which he tilted his heads towards the papers. “Take a look.”

I sighed and grabbed the documents. He’s got to be so fucking dramatic, doesn’t he. I scanned the first page: Major August Jax, a very decorated ex-marine. Served two terms, now owns a private military special operations force. Based in Arizona, mostly deals with hostage situations –

“I’m sorry,” I toss the papers back onto the desk. “Why am I reading this?” I asked, my tone a little too angry. It gave away that I knew exactly what Price was thinking, feigning innocence just to push it away a moment longer.

“Jax’s got a good team on his hands.” Price began. He wouldn’t look at me. I leaned forward and glared into his eyes, daring him to look back. Fucking look at me when you throw me out the window, Price.

“He’s always looking for the best soldiers to add to his group. We got wind that he’d been asking around for a marksman. I offered him you.” He paused, noticing the hurt and anger building in my expression. “You’re a good soldier, Bonnie. I would only recommend you to the best team out there. And I might not even have half a mind to do this, if it wasn’t for the situation at hand, between you n’ Ghost.” His face showed compassion, although I felt none of it. It was a façade.

Instead, I felt betrayed. Maybe I did deserve some sort of reprimand for the way I’d been acting, but this felt like a banishment. That’s exactly what it was.

“You’re kicking me off the team?”

Price sighed, facing the dreaded conversation ahead. “This is a reassignment, I’m not- “

“You’re getting rid of me.”

“You’re making this seem much worse than it is.”

“How much did he pay you for me, huh?”

“Bonnie.” Price warned. Watch yourself, now. I was treading awfully close to the edge of the knife here, but I knew he had received some sort of payment or trade for me.

I sank into the back of my chair and huffed, folding my arms over my chest. “So Ghost gets a slap on the wrist. I get sent away.” I looked away from Pierce’s stern gaze and chewed my lip. The anger was quickly boiling over. “Like a fucking dog.”

“Ghost will get his dues.” Price said. “You both were causing issues for the team, now you’re both cleaning your mess up.”

I looked back at Price, taking a moment to glower at him. “Then why does he get to stay?” I said.

Price faltered, searching for the right words. “Ghost is a lieutenant, and he’s an important member of the team.”

I scoffed. “Wow, thanks…”

“- and…” he continued, “… because he’s been a part of this team for so long, he’s essential to it. He’s a leader for the 141, and I’d be ripping the group apart if he was the one goin’.”

“I’m waiting to hear how you somehow avoid insulting me in this next part.” I sent him a glare full of daggers.

“You’re not making this easy, girl.” Price leaned back in his chair. He was unphased by my anger; one of the few who were. “You’re a wild card: you’re a damn good shot, and your wit has gotten our missions through on the better side of things, more than once. But no one outside of our team knows that. You’re good at your game, but you don’t stand out – to the enemy, anyways.”

There was a pause in the conversation as Price let me process his words. They scraped the inside of my mind like burning daggers. Why is this such an easy decision for him to make? Did he decide this last night? Or in the last few days? Looking into Price’s eyes, I felt humiliated. Like I was never as important to him or the team as he made me feel. And it felt heartbreaking, watching his unreadable expression behind his locked fingers.

“Sir, I’m not a fucking baseball card.”

“No, you’re not.” He replied. “But it’s easier for you to move teams. No one knows what you’ve been involved in, because you managed to stay under everyone’s radar. And I salute you for that – it takes a lot of skill.”

His words weren’t convincing. They felt like colorful ribbons tied around a pile of trash. I huffed. “You’re a load of horseshit, you know that?” My anger clouded my judgement as I spoke, forgetting that Price was my superior.

He sighed, seeming to fight some internal war. “Jesus, y/n, I don’t want this anymore than you do. But you know this is how it has to be.”

“Is it?!” I raised my voice (something Price seemed to fully expect, as he remained unbothered). “No – you know what? You’re right.” I got up out of my seat, walking to the far corner of the room, pacing in small circles. “Ship me off to whoever gives you the most money, why don’t you? It’s not like I was a part of the team just as much as he is. But whatever, keep your happy little group together, right? Keep your favorites and to hell with everyone else, huh? I don’t care. I don’t fucking care anymore. I just want to get the fuck away from you all, so maybe you’re onto something, John.”

Price leaned forward in his chair, looking at me with stern eyes. He made it clear that I was dangerously close to crossing a line, if I hadn’t already. “You listen hear and you listen good, alright? We do dirty work in an even dirtier world for people who don’t deserve shit. I run things smoothly by having a team that respects one another. They know they have each other’s backs out there. They work together. You’d best be very careful with what you say about how I operate my team. Now you n’ Ghost have been causing way too much trouble for way too long. It’s been affecting the whole team, and the two of you have been so selfish that you can’t even notice. You in particular have completely lost yourself to your emotions. It’s my job to make sure that my division stays in-tact and on top of their shit. And you bet that the moment I see a flame threatening to burn all that down – I snuff it out. In whichever way gets it done.”

I’d never seen Price so angry before. At least, not with me. Knowing that I had disappointed him – and was currently doing that – felt worse than a bullet to the chest. Price had saved my ass when I was about to be dumped in a military prison; I respected him for that and was forever thankful. So, when I realized how I had just disrespected him, a hint of shame tugged at my mind.

But I forced it down. He was uprooting my entire life from the past ten years and expecting me to ‘take one for the team’. Maybe I hadn’t done as much for everyone as he had done for us, but he said it himself all the time: “Your skills are unmatched.” “We would’ve had a lot more losses without you out there.” “You’re essential for a smooth mission, Bonnie.” The only reason he was doing this was because Ghost had probably talked him up about it. Ghost could really be manipulative when he wanted to… but this still hurt. It still made my blood boil, thinking that Price was so quick to get rid of me, like I was a weed in his garden.

“So that’s it.” I said, defeated, the sting of tears threatening to fall. There was no coming back from this. “I’m out.”

Price nodded, his lips pressed into a tight line. “Afraid so.” He said curtly. He’d had enough of trying to sugarcoat things. I could tell he just wanted me to skip to the acceptance stage and start packing my bags.

I blankly stared at him. I felt my body slump as the realization finally hit. I felt the need to say something, anything, but nothing worth saying came to mind. Instead I looked at Price, sitting behind his desk, hands folded as he watched me process it all. A sudden anger flooded my veins. This is just another transaction for him. He would have done this for any situation. I narrowed my eyes as my mind was brimming with rage.

Price could tell I was getting worked up again. He sighed in annoyance, glancing at the paperwork on his desk. “Look, girl, it’s all said and done. Best you start packing your things tonight, get some sleep before you leave tomorrow.”

Like a weed. Like a thorn in his side. My breaking point had been reached. Crushed. I was back at the bottom of the ladder, where I started out with the 141.

“You know what, sir… “ I leaned over the back of my chair, placing my hands on the arm rests and glowering at Price. “… respectfully- “

“Bonnie-“ he warned, but I didn’t care.

“ -fuck you.” I shoved my finger indignantly in his face, then immediately turned on my heels. I punched open the doors to his office, feeling the buzz of my anger radiate off of me.

Price doesn’t say anything as I storm off. He doesn’t have to. The decision has been made – I could shout and curse and fight all I wanted, but I was being taken off of the team, whether they had to handcuff me and drag me out or not. I felt humiliated realizing that the whole base would be able to guess what happened, and why. I knew that Ghost wouldn’t dare open his mouth about it – but he wouldn’t stop the rumors, either. Price wouldn’t even care.

Fucking push-over. Of course he chooses Ghost. Two peas in a fucking pod, they are.

-----

I didn’t sleep. I had packed everything – my clothes, personal files, knives, and whatever else I cared to call mine – in less than an hour and in three duffel bags, which were now piled by my door. I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at them. My head was empty, unable to process a single thought or emotion. I was spent from my conversation with Price. I didn’t cry after, like I usually did when I fought with Ghost. At least that will be over. I tried to think optimistically, but it was hard. It was hard to think at all. The hours ticked by like minutes as I waited for the dawn to break.

Finally, at seven hundred and nine hours, a knock rapped against the door. I knew who it was. I stood up and swiftly grabbed my bags, opening the door – Jax stood there, a proud smile on his face.

“You said all your goodbyes?” he asked.

“Yep.” I lied. I hadn’t said anything to anyone after leaving Price’s office.

“Great. Let’s get moving, then.” He grabbed one of my bags from me, throwing it over his shoulder. “I’ll give you a hand, young lady.”

Already, I could feel myself hating the reassignment. Already, Jax was treating me like a fragile, sensitive girl. To be fair, the 141 did at first, but they had grown to see me as the skill and potential that I am. An independent soldier. I didn’t want to start over and try to prove myself to a new team. No use crying over it now.

I followed Jax, passing Soap as he stood leaned in his doorway, looking melancholic. I looked back, emotionless. I would miss him. He was one of the only people I would miss at this point, after what had gone down. He was always there to listen, and either offer solutions, or just let me vent. Whichever I needed, he provided. Losing him was going to hurt the most.

But I wasn’t going to let it. I turned my head from him and kept moving.I saw that it looked like Soap wanted to say something. I ignored it.

Beth and Skyline weren’t there. Neither were Gaz or Price. I knew Ghost was somewhere, lurking from the sidelines as I loaded my bags onto a heli. But I didn’t care. I did, but I didn’t let myself look back. If I did I would be in shambles, realizing how much I needed this place and the people here. I felt like a tree being torn out of the ground, roots hanging in the air, searching for a place to ground myself. As long as I didn’t look back, as long as I pushed back the pain and the loneliness, the voice in my head screaming for me to get closure, to say goodbye and get one final look – I would be fine. Or at least, it wouldn’t hurt as much.

I slapped a headset over my ears, sliding into the back of the heli. Jax and an unfamiliar soldier sat in the front as we prepared to take off. “Where are we headed?!” I asked over the deafening sound of the spinning blades. I ignored the sickening feeling of loss that ebbed in the back of my mind.

“Didn’t you read the file from Price?!” Jax turned and looked at me through his dark sun glasses, a smirk resting on his lips. “We’re going to Czech Slovakia!!”

#konig cod #konig x reader #konig smut #konig x reader smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader smut #ghost x reader #ghost smut #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2

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