#all i remember is at some point he wore a red dress and a tall blonde(?) wig

[sevenminiaturemonkeys]

saw this and thought of them

regular pic:

[katsus-world]

Quicky

Bakugou x fem! Reader

Characters are aged up

Warning: smut, cursing bc it’s bakugou, extremely bad smut! 👯‍♀️

MINORS DNI ❌❌❌

The cool breeze of the night hit your face as you stepped out of the apartment you shared with your best friend, Mina ashido.

Tonight was a night of celebration or that’s what Mina said at least. You had just gotten out of a toxic relationship, remembering the countless nights you spent crying yourself to sleep and the countless hours you spent yelling and arguing with that dick you called your boyfriend.

You just wanted to get out of the house and Mina was more then happy to take you out for a good night. Calling all of your friends, she made sure you were going to have a fun evening.

Once you stepped out of the house, you were met by familiar faces. Jirou and Momo hand in hand, talking about what club you all were going to go to. Their eyes both on you as you zipped up the thin jacket you had on.

“Y/n! Thank god you’re ok now, we’ve missed you..” Momo said as she pulled the purple haired girl behind her.

“She’s right, it’s been a while since we all hanged out.” A sheepish smile on her face as she stepped next to her tall girlfriend.

A small smile pulled at your lips as you recalled the last time you went out with the girls.

Momo and jirou had gotten tipsy and sang their hearts out in karaoke singing for two maybe three hours? The night is kinda hazy. Ochako had brought midoriya and stayed flirting all night. The alcohol obviously helping them.

Mina and you had been dancing all night, the music and the dim lit club making you forget all your problems..

Well at least until you had 11 missed calls and 7 text messages in the span of 10 minutes from an angry boyfriend, (soon to be ex), the messages started off calm then they got to the point where he was calling you a slut and a whore for not answering him.

“Y/n? Y/n? Anyone in there?” A high piched voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes locked with a short brown hair girl.

“Sorry. Is Mina out yet?” You turned around, still on the step in front of your apartment. Just on cue Mina stepped out. Her cleavage exposure as well as her thighs, a short dress black with a v-line that ended right above her belly button.

Damn she looked good.

“Let’s get this shit started! In honor of Y/n being single let’s go get you laid!” Her voice was laced with excitement, something you haven’t heard in a while.

Has it really been that long since you all went out? A ping of guilt took over you, but you pushed it aside not wanting that to spoil the night for you, more importantly for the rest of your friend group.

You replied quickly to Mina’s comment, noticing that you were too quiet.

“Honestly if I find a hot guy and he’s down, I’ll be down too,” An embarrassed smile pulls at your lips. You hear a whoop from Mina and jirou.

“Trust me when you look like that, everyone is gonna have their eyes on you!” Ochako chimes in. You look down at your outfit as you thank her for the compliment.

You wore a black Spagetti strap dress with a small v-neck, not ass much as Mina but enough to show your perky breasts.

As you all walk to the club, ochako turns around. Making everyone else turn their heads.

“Yo ‘chako, what is i-” jirou’s sentence was cut off when some familiar faces were spotted on the crowded sidewalk.

“Hey guys!” Kirishima energetically said as he walked over, behind him was sero, kaminari, midoriya and todoroki, and bakugou.

Your heart did a flip at the sight of bakugou, he was wearing a red tank top and some black sweatpants. The outline of his abs peaking through the tight material, his arms looking so much bigger since the last time you saw him. And his eyes, oh my god his eyes, you thought.

His red ruby eyes obviously caught you staring, his usual frown looking back at you.

“My eyes are up here nerd.” You looked up at the ash blonde, your face hot with embarrassment. Quickly you spat out a reply.

“My bad, you just look really hot right now.” The sudden confidence made bakugou roll his eyes, looking away from you and onto Mina who was talking.

“Can we get going now? Y’all can flirt on the way!” Mina whined as the group started walking towards the club.

Beside you was kirishima and bakugou, Kiri made small talk and sometimes bakugou would chime in so the walk wasn’t too awkward.

“So hero work isn’t too bad, and I get to see tamaki all the time so I’m not loney!” The red head gave a toothy smile. You couldn’t help but give one back.

His smile is contagious, you thought.

“At least squid legs shuts up, I’m stuck with deku and Icy hot all day. Those dumbasses never shut up.” Bakugou growled as he looked straight ahead.

“Come on man they aren’t that bad, you’re exaggerating dude.” Kiri piped up as you chuckled. The hot head looking down at you, his eyebrow going up.

“What’s so funny short stuff?” His voice was gruff and something in you turned.

“I just think it’s cool that you both are doing something exciting like hero work, meanwhile I’m stuck inside other dusty books and files.” You exhaled at the thought of paper work.

Just when bakugou was about to say something, you best friend yelled.

“We’re here finally!” Her pink heels making her steps loud enough to hear. You looked up at bakugou and smiled, “let’s get fucking wasted.”

“That’s the spirit Y/n!” Denki called out as he had his arm around Mina.

“Tch, I’m not babysitting you if you feel sick.” With an eye roll you grabbed bakugous wrist, pulling him into the club.

Loud music and flashing lights greeted you, looking around lots of hot woman and men dancing, taking shots, and making out was all you saw. Some people were sitting, cup in hand, others rocking their hips to the beat of the music. A smile on your face as you continued to walk, his hand still in your grip and his upper body now pressed against your back.

“Fuck yeah! This shits cool!” Kirishima yelled over the music. Sero agreed as they walked over to the bar, probably going to buy shots.

“You wanna dance?” You asked loudly to Mina who was still with Denki.

“Hell yes, oh my god! Hot guys to the left y/n!” Your head tuned at the mention of men, they were about your age and honestly not your type.

When you turned back around and shook your head to Mina, she gave a small frown but quickly her lips turned up-right at the sight of a certain man coming behind you, his arms on your hips as he leaned down, hovering over your ear.

“I’m not the only one looking good tonight y/n, let’s dance, yeah?” His voice was barely audible but you heard them, your stomach doing flips as you walked to the main dance floor.

“Woah now, where’s the real bakugou?” You said as you leaves your head back onto his shoulder.

His hands were on your hips and your ass on his crotch. Swaying them side to side as the music made your nerves calm. With the help of a few shots.

Your friends not far behind. Denki and kirishima with Mina as they danced in front of y’all. They did all kinds of tricks on the floor, as you watched for about 25 minutes.

Bakugous hand finding home on your stomach, the other around your neck, not enough to stop your breathing but enough for it to turn you on.

Placing your head on his shoulder, your hand snaked up to his spuckt but soft hair, grabbing a handful, you pulled down to where your mouth was by his ear.

“Wanna go to the back?” You asked and you felt him nod.

Making your way to vancant part of the club, you stepped into an empty room. Bakugou locking the door behind him as he stepped in.

You stayed standing up and he took a seat in front of you, his legs wide open, almost inviting you to get in between them.

“You gonna stand there or you gonna get on my lap?” His voice was laced with lust, you felt yourself getting excited at his words as you sat down on his clothed cock, it somewhat coming to life.

“You look fucking hot on top of me.” His eyes trailing to your chest which was semi exposed. Your hands wrapping themselves in his spikey hair. His calloused fingers grabbing the flesh at your hips.

“Yeah? You like this?” His lips were inches away from yours. Deciding to take the first move, you close the little space that was in between you both.

Your lips connecting like puzzle pieces, the feeling of his surprisingly soft lips on yours made your head fuzzy with lust.

His hand moving down to your your plump ass, the other moving down to your breast, cupping it in his rough hand.

Pulling down your dress, bakugou played with your breasts, the sight making him stiffen under you. A low groan coming out of his mouth as he took one of your hardened nipples into his fingers. Tugging and twisting then as if they were toys, the rough pad of his finger sending waves of heat down to your cunt.

“Fuck you’re so hot, you look so good right now.” He gave your nipple one more twist before taking it into his mouth.

A wanton moan escaped your mouth, your core begging for some type of attention as he continued to suck on your breast.

Your hips having moving on their own, the feeling of you on him was too much, you pushed him off and without one swift motion your dress was on the floor, greedily you ripping his shirt off throwing it behind you.

“Bakugou, need you.” A breathy whine slipped from your lips. Grabbing your waist, he pulled you up on all fours.

“It’s Katsuki, gonna make you scream my name don’t worry.” He slipped your lace panties to the side and pushed his long finger in.

“You like that? No one’s gonna make you feel like this but me.” His other hand came crashing down to your bottom. The stinging feeling making your core tighten around his digit.

Slipping a second one in, he moved them in a scissor like fashion. You bit your lip to hold back the lewd noises. Your eyes pricking with tears as you ached for his cock.

His hand came down again, “Don’t hold anything back y/n, I wanna hear all the slutty noises you make.”

“Please- I need more, bakugou please!” The stinging from another slap made you yelp. His fingers stopped moving and you felt the frustration in you building up.

“I told you, it’s Katsuki. You want more? Take my fingers like a good slut and wait, if I do more now I’ll tear you apart.” Slipping his fingers out of your core he flipped you on your back. His eyes bored into yours, his words made your heart flutter. He was prepping you so you won’t end up in the hospital. How thoughtful.

You nodded and softly placed your lips on his, a slow Passionate kiss, with all the hunger still behind it. His fingers moving inside of you, loving the way you took his fingers in greedily.

Finally slipping his finger out, placing kisses down your cleavage, till he met your wet sex. A groan leaving his mouth as he palmed himself through his sweats.

“I’ll eat you out another day, fuck just needa be in you right now.” As he pulled down his sweats and put on the condom, your thoughts ran back to the last time you had sex.

Actually when was the last time you’ve done it? Or actually finished without using a toy?

The feelings of you being stretched out snapped you back to reality. “You’re so fucking big.” You moaned out as your hands wrapped around his neck.

“Shit you’re so tight” katsuki cursed out as he stretched his way into you. His hands pushing you back down as you flopped onto the the table.

Quickly, bakugou set his pace. Violently making your tits bounce with the force of his thrusts. His balls slapping shamelessly against your cunt. Your head going blank, only the feeling of him inside of you filled your thoughts.

Your moans echoing off the walls of the room as the music blasted louder outside, canceling your voice so only you and katuski could hear.

“Such a slut, takin’ my fucking cock like this. Bet that bastard ex ain’t even fuck you like this.” You look at katsuki with a half lit smile. He was right, he never made you feel like this, he never made you feel anything except pain and disgust.

Not katsuki though, as his hand met home with your throat, you started seeing stars, pulling himself lower to you. He reached deeper inside you, your leg thrown over his shoulder. His cock hitting that special spot that no one has reached in a long time.

Hollow kisses met your face as you let go, the coil inside you tightening as you moved your hips trying to meet your climax. Drool seeping through the corners of your mouth as you made your voice be heard, just for katsuki.

“Ima’ cum.” He said harshly as he cupped one of your plush brests in his hand, while he placed other one in his mouth, twisting and sucking delectably with the rough pad of his tongue.

His heavy dick dragging along your spongy walls as you both finally finish, shaking from under him, you both sigh in relief.

¯\_( ͡ಥ ͜ʖ ͡ಥ)_/¯ ¯\_( ͡ಥ ͜ʖ ͡ಥ)_/¯ ¯\_( ͡ಥ ͜ʖ ͡ಥ)_/¯ ¯\_( ͡ಥ ͜ʖ ͡

I have given up on this one 😭 just wanted to post something that’s been sitting in my drafts 😓

[cherrythepuppet]

Corpse Puppet [Part 9]

AU we all know belongs to our Lovely @sketchquill

"Frank! are you there?" Wally called out as he and (Y/n) entered a tall tower on the outskirts of the little dead town"Hello? ls anyone home?" Wally asked "Shut up! I'm almost done with this book!" A voice yelled, (Y/n) and Wally looked around to see who said that

It was a short girl with short messy dark red hair and light pink skin with an X on her forehead, She wore a black and white dress with a spider bowtie similar to Jack skellington's outfit"Cherry!" Wally exclaimed "Oh apple man!" Cherry said as she looked up from her book that was titled 'All Good People Here'

 ​​"Why are you here?" Cherry asked as she grabbed a perfume bottle and drank some"Well me and my spouse came to see frank" Wally said making Cherry spit out all the perfume "What's that?! Spouse?!" Cherry yelled

Cherry glared at (Y/n) making them freeze "Uhm- Pleasure to meet you, Miss" They said with a wave "Ill go get frank..." Cherry grumbled as she hop off the stack of books she was sitting on

After a moment Cherry had come back with a man who (Y/n) had assumed was Frank Frankly "Oh Wally! It's been a while how are you? Cherry says you have a spouse now" Frank exclaimed (Y/n) thought Frank looked familiar like they have heard about him before then something clicked in their head

"I do! Meet (Y/n)!" Wally told them making Cherry glare at (Y/n) even more, "Sir may i ask you something?" (Y/n) asked gaining Frank's attention "Did you perhaps know someone named Eddie?" They asked Frank's eyes widened "How did you-" he asked

"Eddie told me about you" (Y/n) said "You know him!? How is he?" Frank asked "He's been doing good and he missed you dearly" They told himCherry was still glaring at (Y/n) seeming to find them odd "Hm" Cherry mumbled as she appeared directly in front of (Y/n) and grabbed their wrist

"Your breathing...and you have a pulse!" Cherry yelled "Wally where did you find this person?!" She asked "We met in the forest we they said their vows perfectly!" Wally told her

(Y/n) stood there nervously "Cherry Jubilee! If you are going to start getting upset i suggest you go talk to sally or poppy" Frank said

"But!-" "No buts Cherry! Go!" Frank demanded as cherry groaned then black smoke and nothing as cherry was gone"I apologize about her...recently she has been upset" Frank told the couple

"What is it you needed?" He asked "We need to go up" Wally said as he pointed up "Upstairs?" Frank asked"To visit the land of the living" Wally said "Land of the living?" frank asked "Please, Frank!" Wally begged

"Now, why go up there, when people are dying to get down here?" Frank asked "Sir, l beg you to help lt means so much to me-...Us" (Y/n) spoke up"l don't know, it's just not natural..." Frank mumbled

"Please, Frank! Surely there must be something you can do!" Wally exclaimed "Let me see what l can do..." Frank mumbled "Where did l put that book? l left it here somewhere" he asked himself

"Oh it must be with Cherry I keep forgetting to tell her to stop taking my spell books" Frnak groaned Suddenly a book dropped in front of him with a sticky note on it, The sticky note had somethign written on it and a drawing of frank looking angry

"I despise that girl" He said as he opened the book "Here it is! A Ukrainian haunting spell Just the thing for these quick trips!" Frank exclaimed "So glad you thought of this" Wally whispered to (Y/n) "Me too" They whispered back

"Now, then where were we?" Frank asked"The Ukrainian haunting spell?" Wally said "Here we have it! Ready?" Frank mumbled "Just remember, when you want to come back, say 'Hopscotch.' " He told them

"Hopscotch?" (Y/n) asked confused as to why that word "That's it" Frank said as he cracked open a case of something then engulfed both Wally and (Y/n) in a black smokeThe moon shined brightly over the two as snow began lightly falling along with the wind blowing

The two were silent for a minute as they took in the sights and beauty of it all "I spent so long in the darkness I almost forgotten what the moonlight is like" Wally smiled and (Y/n) couldn't help but smile back at him

(Y/n)'s smiled faded after a minute thought "l think l should prepare Mother and Father for the big news" she said and wally nodded "l'll go ahead and you wait here" (Y/n) told him before they walked away Wally sat on a rock and waited for when (Y/n) would come back....

[lilacxoz]

Only One - Gojo

F!reader

Warning: grinding, alcohol, oral sex, protected sex.

I am not responsible for people under 18 who read this. minors or ageless bloggers please dni!

You laced your strappy heels to your feet, standing up to your full height from the bed as you looked at yourself in the mirror. It was a Friday night and your best friend begged you to go clubbing with her. You eventually agreed because she always had a way of persuading you into anything.

But part of you knew why you were making sure your eyeliner was sharp and your lashes were glued on seamlessly. You hadn’t been laid in a month. You had a frequent guy you liked to hookup with but he was gone for a work trip. And it wasn’t like you weren’t allowed to fuck anyone else, you just never needed to. But it had been a very stressful month to the point you needed a release from all the stress.

You wore strappy heels that ended just a bit under your knee, black mesh dress with a very wide thigh slit. What made it even better was the red lace bra and panties you wore underneath.

You were in the middle of taking a mirror picture for your link when your best friend walked in to your apartment, ready to drive you both to the club. So after a few pics, you were driving to one of the biggest clubs in the area. You stepped inside to hear a loud bass heavy song reverberating inside the black and red color schemed club. “Let’s head to the bar first, then let’s meet the girls!” You nodded, following your short bestie to the long bar.

“What can I get you ladies tonight?” The bartender asks, clearly feeling the vibe your bestie is giving. She orders you two cocktails, handing you your drink as she leads you through the crowds until you get to a VIP section. You sit down next to the rest of the girls you were friends with. There were a few guys there, talking and even feeling up some of the girls.

“So, how’s your thing with that old man?” She asks you, taking the black small straw into her glossed lips as she sips from her fruity drink.

“He’s not old! He’s 28 and just really blonde I guess…” She laughs at you, making your face burn.

“I’m not makin’ fun, just hope he still makes you satisfied,” she explains, to which you nodded at her.

“He does, he’s just been away on business. I don’t remember when he said he’d be back, but he said he’d come see me the day after.” She nodded, crossing her legs over each other.

“Well, we finna give you a new flavor tonight,” she said, eyes scoping out the crowd of people dancing and feeling the beat. “We should choose a guy who ain’t afraid to eat it, trust,” she said, making your face burst into flames.

“Keyshia!” She just laughs aloud, making you hide your face behind your cocktail. She talked to you about random things, work, sex, family, everything before one of her favorite club songs started to play. She dragged you to the dance floor at the piano intro to the song Water by Kehlani, people dancing to the artists voice. The bass started, making Keyshia get more into it as she hyped you up. Your hands went to her waist as she wiggled her ass against you, giggles and laughter erupting from you both. As you were dancing, a pair of cute guys approached, replacing your dance partner.

The guy was tall and had black hair that fell down his face and was a bit crazy but in a good way. He had beautiful green eyes and this shyness to him that you kinda liked. He placed his large hands on your hips as you were backed up into him, his chin resting on your shoulder. “You do this often?” You ask him, to which he shook his head, his hands getting more comfortable on your body.

“But I get the sense you don’t either, I see the shyness, almost like an open book.” You blushed, turning to look over at him. He softly smirked, moving his hips with yours a bit. “Fushiguro,” he said, his name sounding familiar on his tongue. But you didn’t think to much as you gave him your last name as well.

You danced with Fushiguro for a couple songs, coming to find that his first name was Megumi and he was a freshman in university just like you. He told you he was gonna go find his friend again when your best friend came back, a stupid smile on her face. “Girl, that Itadori guy knows his shit,” she blushed, making you giggle with her. But then her eyes trailed to something or someone behind you, her eyes widened. Before you could turn around, you felt a large hand rest on your shoulder, and a face come close to your ear.

“Miss me?” You looked over to see the owner of that deep and taunting voice, being met with the white haired male who liked to tease you. “It was hard to watch you dance from afar, I’ll admit that. But don’t you think it’s my turn, your friend won’t mind right? Just one song?”

“Oh! By all means have her for every song!” Keyshia blurts, her face red as her eyes flicker from you to him. She then leaves you alone with the man as P*$$Y Fairy (OTW) by Jhené Akio started to play. You let a small smile slip, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him.

“I know we agreed to see other people while hooking up, but boy that was hard to see,” he said, his eyes rolling behind his black out glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose.

“You jealous?” You ask? A hint of tease in your voice. He chuckles, hands pulling you in by the hips.

“Me? The coolest person and hottest person alive?”

“If your the coolest and hottest, wouldn’t that make you warm? And isn’t warm just…borning?” You laughed at the shock on his face, not thinking that through.

“I-I’m not warm!” You laughed even harder, a bit of tears forming. He looked baffled, mouth agape as he looked down at you. He shook his head, a hand coming up to your face. “I’ll show you warm.” He placed his lips against your red stained ones, thanking yourself for wearing your new lipstick stain. His were so warm and soft against yours, leaving you weak in the knees.

“I know I said I’d meet up tomorrow, but I’ve been missing the way you fuck,” he whispered, that stupid grin placed on those pretty lips. And that’s how you found yourself in his penthouse and bent over the kitchen island since it was the closest thing to the front door.

He had your panties down to your ankles as he licked and sucked at your clit. You moaned into the marble countertop, body reacting to everything he does in a sweet rhythm. “Yes~ right~ there~” you moaned each word between your heavy breaths, eyes fluttering as your stomach slowly knotted up.

He added two fingers to the mix, scissoring his fingers inside you. He had his glasses on his head as he got deeper into you, tongue flicking your clit. “Fuck, ‘m missed this pussy,” he groaned, completely devouring you. He reached a free hand up to smack your ass, making your body jolt like a live wire.

“I think I’m close~” you breathed out, your fingertips White from how hard you were trying to hold onto something. His tongue grew faster paced, the kitchen space filled with your moans and lewd sounds from your wet pussy. Your head shot up as you clenched your jaw, mewling out a moan as you came all over his tongue and fingers, thighs shaking. He licked you clean before rising to his full 6’3” height.

He spun you around, crashing his lips to yours like a deprived man. “I’ve missed everything about you, you’ve ruined sex that isn’t with you,” he groaned, pressing his hard erection up against your upper thigh.

“Are you pussy whipped Mr. Gojo?” Not very many people knew, or almost, nobody knew, but Gojo was one of your collage professors until he got promoted and now he travels sometimes and teaches sometimes. And everytime he teaches you in the classroom, you can always feel those lustrous eyes on you.

“I just want you all to myself, I don’t want any other girl anymore,” he whispered in your ear, hands roaming your body.

“What are you asking me, Satoru~” you knew what he was asking you, but you wanted him to say it.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” You pulled him off you before crashing your lips to his, earning a needy groan. He picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. He carried you to his master bedroom, his well made king bed placed in the middle. He tossed you on it, hovering over you as he placed kisses and nibbles all over your neck.

“I wanna be your girlfriend too,” you whisper, feeling him rub his hips against yours. He groaned, arms wrapping around your waist. He needed more of you, wanted to be buried so deep inside that your souls touched.

His hands moved up and almost ripped the dress off your body, needing more of you. You let him quickly pop off your bra, his tongue flicking at your pebbled nipples. Your back arched into him, that flutter between your legs getting to be so much.

“I-I need you, so bad,” you whispered, your waterline getting a bit wet from the overstimulation. He looked up, a smirk on his face.

“You cryin’?” You looked away from his lustrous stare, teeth capturing your plump bottom lip. He moved your head so you were looking at him. “Don’t do that,” he said, pulling your lip from your teeth with his thumb.

He moved away from you to collect a condom from his bedside, tossing it at you as he lays on his bed with his arms behind his head. “Show me how you welcome me home,” he said, a smirk on his face as he nodded his glasses back to his eyes. You nodded, moving so you were on your knees between his spread legs.

You looked at him as you slowly unbuckled his belt, hand palming him in the process. You pushed his pants and boxers off until they were discarded, along with taking off his shirt. His dick was so hard and rested on his abdomen, that beautiful trail of white hair from his stomach to his pubic bone. Your finger trailed his defined V-line, moving to the tip of his cock.

You took him in your hand, leaning down to place soft kisses to it. He groaned softly, letting you please him as you did so well. You swirled your tongue over his pink cut tip, your hand holding him steady at the base. You collected enough spit in your mouth that allowed you to start pumping him slowly, watching the rise and fall of his chest as you could feel those eyes on you through his glasses.

You started to move down on him, fitting more of his dick inside your warm and wet mouth. He moaned, head falling back. You started to bob your head on him, choking and sucking on him that only roused more noise from him. You deep throated him, trying so desperately to make him feel good. It was working because he reached a hand down to your head, his breath shaky and unstable as he whispered colorful words under his breath.

You pulled away with a gasp, your hand pumping fast and tight that made him croak out a strangled noise. You moved your head down to lick at his balls, head head falling deeper into the pillows. “Just like that baby~” he groaned, his deep voice reverberating inside the large bedroom.

You pulled away, a smirk on your face as you looked at his glistening and throbbing dick, taking the condom he tossed at you off the bed and opening it. He watched you roll the rubber over his dick, his cheeks a bit flushed as he drank in the sight.

You scotched up until you were hovering over his dick, letting him position it to your entrance. You gasped when you slowly slid down on it, eyes screwing shut as you tried your best to get used to it quickly. His hands gripped your hips as his thumb rubbed your clit.

You took him all in, sitting on his dick just as he liked it. He loved when you were on top, loved the view of you.

You moved your hips on him slowly, your hands planted on his defined chest. He felt so good inside you, almost making you cum on the spot.

His tip kissed your cervix that it hurt so good, your body bouncing on him as you craved more friction. He leaned up so he was in a sitting position, a hand on your breast as his arm was wrapped around your back to hold you steady. He helped you bounce on him, his lips brushing against your nipple. Your eyes screwed shut as an orgasm approached rapidly, making your body convulse against him. You cried out his name, head falling to the crook of his neck.

You rode out your orgasm on him, breaths heavy and shallow. He didn’t give you time to rest, manhandling you so you were pressed up against the headboard. He had a hand to the side of your face as his other slid his dick right back inside you, his hips making a fast and steady rhythm against you.

“You’ve got such a pretty and vocal cunt, don’t ya’?” He whispered, your ass bouncing with each thrust. You nodded sloppily, your face smushed yet you could only focus on the way his dick rubbed against that spot that made you see stars.

“Ah~ yes, there!” You cried out, hands trying to find something to hold onto. He moved his hand so it was around your neck, making you look back so he could swallow all of your moans.

He reached his other hand down to rub your clit, speeding up his pace so fast that the bed slammed against the wall with each thrust. He pulled away from the kiss, letting out a croaky whine with each thrust, close to his orgasm as well.

You hooked your arm around his neck as he slammed his hands on your hips, gaining more speed. You cried out as you came all over his dick again, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Son of a bitch, I’m gonna cum~” he moaned, grunting with each thrust as he delivered one powerful blow to your cunt that triggered his release.

He groaned in your ear, his warm breath trickling down your hot and exposed body. He slipped out, letting you fall to the bed. You turned to watch him discard the condom before getting another one. “We’re not done?” You asked.

“Of course not, I haven’t had good sex in a month so I’m sure as hell gonna get one more round.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Dorothy Must Die (Danielle Paige):

A p p e a r e n c e s.

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Tin Woodman:

He looked more like a machine that had been cobbled together out of spare parts, a hodgepodge of scrap metal and springs and machinery pieces all held together by screws and bolts. His long, spindly legs were a complex construction of rods and springs and joints, and bent backward at the ankles like a horses legs; his face was pinched and mean, with beady, flashing metal eyes and a thin, cylindrical nose that jutted out several inches from his face and ended in a nasty little point. His oversized jaw jutted out from the rest of his face in a nasty underbite, revealing a mess of little blades where his teeth should have been.

I half remembered the Tin Woodman's story. He had been a flesh-and-blood man until a witch had enchanted his ax to make him chop off pieces of his body one by one, and one by one he had replaced them with metal parts until that was all that was left of him. From what it looked like, he had been making improvements ever since. The only thing that was really familiar about him was the funnel-shaped hat he wore. I guess some things never change.

//

He had fingers like knives and needles, each one of them twisted into a slightly different shape. Like dentist tools.

Dorothy Gale:

This was not the same girl I'd read about. She was wearing the dress, but it wasn't the dress exactly- it was as if someone had cut her familiar blue-checked jumper into a million little pieces and then put it back together again, only better. Better and, okay, a little bit more revealing. Actually, more than a little bit. Not that I was judging.

Instead of farm-girl cotton it was silk and chiffon. The cut was somewhere between heaute couture and French hooker. The bodice nipped, tucked, and lifted. There was cleavage.

Lots of cleavage.

Dorothy's boobs were put to here, her legs up to there. Her face was smooth and unblemished and perfect: her mouth shellacked in a plasticky crimson, her eyes impeccably lined in silver and gold. Her eyelashes were so long and full that they probably created a breeze when she blinked. It was hard to tell how old she was. She looked like she could have been my age or years older. She looked immortal.

She had her hair pulled into two deep chestnut waves that cascaded down her shoulders, each tied with red ribbon. Her piercing blue eyes were trained right on me. I knew I was supposed to look down, like the Tin Woodman had instructed. Instead, I found myself falling into her gaze. I couldn't help it.

The Scarecrow:

At Ozma's side stood a tall thin man dressed in a baby-blue, one-size-too-small suit. Beneath a small hat, bits of straw and yarn stuck out in every direction. His face was a skein of tightly pulled burlap with two unnervingly lifelike buttons sewn on in place of eyes. His lips were thin lines of embroidery stitched in pinkish-brown yarn underneath a painted on red triangle for a nose. His buttons were fixed on me.

A chill shot through my body. It was the Scarecrow. Like the Tin Woodman, he had been twisted and warped into something I hardly recognised.

//

His head lolled over to his shoulder and a little felt tongue I didn't even know he had dangled limply from his mouth.

The Lion:

Or maybe like something was waiting them: at the front of the line, I saw the Lion himself for the first time in the flesh. He had been a vague, hazy shadow in Glamora's scrying pool, but now, in person, I realised exactly how terrifying he really was.

Really, he was barely recognisable as a lion at all. He looked like a monster, like some warped nightmare version of the king of the jungle. He was huge and golden, with bulging, grotesque muscles and a filthy, snarled mane. His lips were curled back, baring a mouth crowded with sharp, long, crooked fangs.

[anlian-aishang]

Kinktober Day 4: Car Sex + Formal Wear + Daddy Kink

“You make Levi so sexually frustrated (on purpose) while on a date, so once the date is over he immediately pulls into an empty parking lot and rails you in the back seat. Bonus points if they’re parents and finally have time away from the kids (even though they love them)!”

Word count: 2200

Tags: levi x reader, modern AU, daddy kink, brief lactation, food + alcohol mention, “bitch” usage (reader onto self), “slut” usage (levi onto reader), fem!reader

It was supposed to be his night away. Your night away. For just this evening, the two of you could redefine yourselves - away from that parental role and as lovers once again. Of course, you and Levi loved your children unconditionally, but simultaneously agreed: you would be lying if you said you did not long for the occasional break.

Occasional it was indeed. You could not remember the last time you had such time to yourselves. This was not just the Netflix after you had put the kids to bed, nor was it the depths-of-night sex in between your infant’s crying fits. Besides the stack of cash you had handed the babysitter and the bedtime checklist you left magneted to the fridge, this was a date just like the two of you used to have all those years ago. 

Levi wore a crisp button-up, tucked into black slacks, secured by a leather belt. A belt that matched his oxford shoes, half-calf argyle socks beneath. Ever since landing that family-supporting six-figure promotion, his fashion sense had been honed to match it. 

But it was not until you were beside him in the sedan’s passenger seat that you got a good enough look - recognizing that the long-sleeve he donned was not new, but particularly old. You suppressed a smile at the sight of his shirt - the same one you had gifted him on your first anniversary. Foremost, you were touched by his deliberate choice - nothing was ever mindless of your husband. Then, you were impressed, how it still fit him after all that time. Seemed that the dad-bod hadn’t quite hit yet. 

Shameless palm reached to his abdomen, just to confirm, you gave a rub. Beneath the thin fabric, his hardened muscle. You giggled, a futile attempt to hide your thirst, “Nice shirt.”

A half-smile, “Didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Please.” Ever since becoming a mother, tiny details had become your specialty. Of all three children, you knew their shoe size, their favorite kind of jelly for pb&j, and what you would be getting them for all the year’s holidays. “I’m the mother of your children, aren’t I?”

His grip on the wheel turned white-knuckled, the belt at his waist seemed to squeeze a little tighter. Levi stopped at the light and tossed you a wink, “That you are.”

But, tonight, you weren’t acting like it. Levi noticed it from the moment you put on that little black dress. The spark in your eye. The malice in your grin. The sway in your step, sauntering to the car and into the restaurant. At first, he chalked it up to freedom, a flightiness that was only found in the absence of kids. 

However, that did not account for the outright bad behavior you had on display. On the ride to the bistro, how your hand crawled up and up his thigh, finding home there for the thirty-minute commute. When his cold, icy stein arrived, you hastily reached across the table to take the first sip. Sharing, he did not mind. What did raise a brow was the way you let the tall white foam spill over the rim, paint your lips white, and drip down your chin, neck, chest. The trail of alcohol finished off on top of your breast, which Levi swore had not been so exposed when you sat down. Finally, when the dessert arrived, you used your manicured nails to scrape some cream off the top - just enough to swab his cheek. The remnants, you sucked clean. A red ring of lipstick around your knuckle.

You were acting… childish, and not the way your children did. Your misbehaving did not implore him to reach for the camera, like when your daughter crayoned the freshly painted walls. Instead, it encouraged him to enforce in a way he did not believe in otherwise: punishment. Tonight, he may have abandoned the role of father, but you were imploring him to be your daddy - to teach you a lesson or two. 

Levi knit his brows, mouth teetering between a smirk and a growl, “You’re making a mess, aren’t you, missy?”

A sentence he had said countless times throughout parenting, but this time, in a tone you had never heard before.

Beneath the table, you dragged your stiletto up and down his shin. “What do you mean, honey?” 

His leather shoe gently clamped down atop your heel. “You order this fancy meal, just to smother yourself with it?” This time, it was his turn to tease. “You know I’m treating, right?”

Slowly, you pulled the fork out of your mouth. In its wake, a slight smile, “Just can’t help myself.”

That’s for sure. Silver eyes gave a half roll - feigned annoyance. The shift in his seat - authentically riled. Even more so when you pressed, “I’m thinking I’ll need a bath tonight,” with a cupped hand, you shoved one sleeve off your shoulder, “would you help me with that, Mr. Ackerman?”

Levi placed his hand atop your head and gave a light tousle, “So needy, aren’t you?” A bite of his lip only someone as close as you would see, “Mrs. Ackerman?”

Eye contact unbroken as he sifted through his wallet, placed a handful of cash on the table, grabbed your hand, and led you out the door. You took his actions as acceptance to your offer - but even in your marriage - Levi still managed to surprise you. 

He opened your car door and held your hand as you slithered inside - a move he did not make earlier. Once he got in the car, he reached over and buckled your seatbelt for you - something he never ever did. But with how immature you were acting, it was instinctual. This babying should have tipped you off, but you were too arid to pick up his true intentions. It was not until that sharp turn off Main Street, a veer that made you gasp in whiplash, that you began to suspect his deviation from the plan you proposed. 

“L-Levi!?” You clutched the panic bar, “What - Where are we going?” 

Grinding gravel and tire screech drowned out your question, not that he would have responded anyways. You came to the answer on your own as soon as you opened your squinted eyes. Lips parted at the sight - abandoned parking lot, hidden by trees, on the lakeshore - a throwback you were not expecting. 

The two of you used to frequent this spot, but it had been quite a while since the last time. Back when you had roommates, back in the times of college dorms and bunk beds, you twenty-something lovebirds would flee here twice a week or so - thirty minutes at a time. 

You whipped your head to the side, Levi was no longer there, but in the reflection of the rear view mirror. Arms over the backseat headrests. Dark pupils had pushed his irises to the brim. Lips turned slick after a lick of his tongue. Two fingers curled back and forth, a gesture to support his order, “Get back here, young lady.”

Again, a sentence you often heard in other contexts, like when your little one wandered off the playground or ran away from dinner’s vegetables. Those times, though, were not accompanied by the tone or face he wore now. You had heard that parenting could thwart, or even kill, a couple’s sex life. The Levi before you was a foil to that theory. 

A new command: how you crawled to him like a magnet. A new confidence: how he thrust his tongue past your lips without hesitation. Expert multitasking: unbuckling his belt with his right hand, massaging your breast with his left. When he tore your collar down and started to suck your nipples, you rolled your head back and sighed, a single giggle, whoever made up those rumors had not been bred by Levi Ackerman. You lucky bitch.

And as your swollen bosom poured cream down his throat, he moaned in satisfaction, whoever said it was gross had not had the privilege of drinking down your taste. The sorry bastards. 

Delicate fingertips dove down past his waist. French nails snuck beneath his waistband and tugged, springing him free. Lotioned hands gripped his length, gave oscillations from base to tip, manipulating him under your skirt - inch by inch - until he skimmed your entrance.

Knees perched at his sides, hands knot at the back of his undercut, just as you began to lower yourself down, calloused hands wrapped around your wrists. “Ah,” Levi interrupted, “didn’t I say I was treating?”

Huh?

In one swift motion, by his grip at your wrists, Levi pulled a 180 to flip your positions. Legs spread, ankles beside his hips. Your bare thighs rested atop his - covered by linen increasingly taut. His lips to the crook of your neck, simultaneous with his reach under your dress and to your sex. 

Maybe the role reversal had shocked you, but you had a surprise in store for him as well. “Oh?” Levi raised a brow, accompanied by a snide grin, “seems like someone forgot their panties…”

“Yeah,” an arch of your back brought your lips to his ear, “forgot.”

You got halfway through the word, but his sheathe within so delightfully cut you off. 

Despite your scream, Levi showed you no mercy. Chastising you throughout, “Think you need to learn -” agonizing draws out, punishing pushes in, “- need to learn a lesson, darling.”

“Y-Yeah?” The mix of your chill breaths swirled over your peaks, heightening them even more, pressing into his chest. “Teach me, daddy.”

Taught by repetition: slamming into your end. Pain the best discipline: stretching your pussy to accommodate his size. A lasting memory: how your cunt would ache in the morning. 

The car - you could hear it rocking. Out the window, trees appeared to be bouncing. Pens in the glovebox rolled around. Tire axel squeaked, it threatened to break loose, but in that moment, you did not care. The pleasure he was providing so overwhelming, you grit your teeth and cursed, goddamn the rest. 

And goddamn even him. 

Wedding vows vanished in fleeting memory. The ring on your finger invisible on this dark night. A tidal wave cascading, to ride it, you would focus only on yourself. Eyes rolled into the back of your head, it was no longer Levi before you, but some fucking god. Ringing in your ears were deaf to his grunts and groans. All your senses were dead set on achieving your orgasm alone. 

But that was exactly what he wanted.

After all, were mothers not the most selfless beings on earth? He may have led you to believe he was irritated - how you wore tonight’s meal instead of eating it, how you acted so below your age - all on the night he was supposed to break free from oversight. In actuality, this was his goal all along - to grant you a night of total self-indulgence. For being such a good caretaker, “such a good girl,” he wanted to reward you. How humble you were, though, he knew you would only accept that reprieve in the disguise of punishment. 

And so, Levi pushed your knees flat against the back of the bench, brought himself to the depths that made you scream, and fucked you at a pace that cut those screams short. When Ackerman was determined, not even his wife could withstand such efforts. 

“L’Levi…” hands flung themselves beneath his collar, nails dug into his shoulders. He recognized that instinct, and smirked at what it meant, “Levi, I…!”

Go on, baby… let yourself feel good, that was what his heart said. However, with your escape at the forefront of his mind, snide lips phrased it differently, hissing, “Come on, you little slut.” Fingers cupped beneath your chin and tilted your neck back, coercing your vocals to bounce off the walls, “Cum for daddy.”

In the chaos of the scene, his demand shone through to you. Indeed, that was just how altruistic you had become: fucked to the edge, but only letting yourself take the leap when you knew it would benefit him, too. At the small of his back, you crossed your ankles and pulled him that crucial distance, dragging him along with you - into the pot of honey, sweetened with sugar, seasoned with sparks. 

Swimming there with you: this time, an adoration he could not thwart, not with the sensations that overtook him now, “Oh, look at you…” Cooing, Levi cupped your face in his hand, “so beautiful.”

That was true love: how he found you as beautiful now as he did at the beginning of the date. Makeup had smudged, mascara dampened, lipstick streaked all the way to your ear. The hairstyle you spent hours on had been totally disheveled, strands flung here and there. Sweat coated his bangs, dyeing them even darker than black. Where your bodies met had been painted in the blend of your arousal. The melody of overstimulated flinches and harmony of exertion made a song you would favorite. In post-coital clarity, you realized there was only one thing about the night: a recording device next time.

But that was assuming the night was over. 

Levi lifted his gaze to meet yours. Panting, smirking, “So, about that bath…”

// Kinktober Year 3 Masterlist //

[creepswrites]

Mixing Slushies (Stu Macher x Reader)

oof I've been craving to write a solo for this boy for a WHILE so I hope you enjoy!! I feel like this story has a slightly different tone from what I usually write so please let me know if you liked it.

Stu Macher x AMAB!Reader (he/they)

Summary: He'd seen you crying in your bathroom over your parents fighting, seen you high and so out of your mind you had struggled to even talk, and knew you got slushies in both red and blue flavors but always poured red first and you never stirred it up. You let yourself hug him back, trying to avoid smudging the eyeliner you wore all over his shirt. WARNING: 18+, rude language, period-typical homophobia, recreational drug/alcohol use, discussion of murder, knifeplay, fearplay, mild choking

Living in Woodsboro had come with certain... challenges. Your dad being on the police force had been one of those challenges, since being the chief's son and openly gender non-conforming came with a special kind of bullying. Kids your own age and adults your father worked with seemed to almost take turns giving impolite-but-polite comments about how you dressed or just straight up insults on your general person. It was all just a part of growing up for you, something you believed you'd be doomed to accept if you didn't conform.

Your father was certainly of no help, whining to your mother constantly how he didn't want a "sissy" for a son and only shouting at you when you tried to argue with him. So, you resigned yourself to being bullied, believing that to be your fate till you could blow this fucking town. Get out and never look back.

Until you met Stu Macher.

The two of you met properly when you were both freshmen in high school, but you'd known him since your father transferred to Woodsboro the previous year. Though he'd never really caught your attention then. Too-tall and gangly, the class clown sort of guy. You'd only had one class together in eighth grade so it wasn't like you had to deal with him often. You didn't hate him, he just didn't stand out. He'd notice your outfits though and the friends he hung out with at the time would point and laugh, even if he just smiled at you.

Thankfully, by the time high school rolled around, kids generally had better things to do than give a shit if you wore a skirt or eyeliner to school. Besides, it was fun, fuck all of them. First week went by easy but on the second week, some of the seniors were giving you shit, trying to pull on your hair and trip you up. It was quick to stop after Stu Macher punched one so hard he broke his nose. You still fondly remember the sickening crunch, the waterfall of blood, and the bright smile Stu had given you. Like he'd been holding that in for months.

No one ever really bothered you after that. But Stu still did.

He'd always be trailing after you, asking about your new skateboard or trying to steal your headphones to see what music you were listening to on your Walkman. At first it was annoying but you slowly began opening up to him, especially after he'd defended you. Only reason he didn't have detention was because the guys he hit didn't want to be humiliated by losing to a freshman half their size.

So you two started to hang out as friends. You'd drag Stu to some abandoned train tracks and teach him to skateboard or he'd take you to his house to watch movies. Horror movies quickly became your favorite, the two of you spent hours gushing over how the movies were filmed, the stories, everything. Even rewatching movies you'd seen was fun with Stu. He had an interest in becoming a director so he would always try to explain how the scenes were shot but you'd both become overexcited at the blood and gore.

It was common knowledge to most in your neighborhood that your parents fought. They'd have screaming matches well into the night and the cops had even been called to investigate 'domestic disturbances' that your neighbors phoned in. Whenever the screaming started now, you'd just sneak out your window and head to the Macher farmhouse or sneak the lanky boy in through your window.

He never judged you when you sobbed when the fights turned aggressive, shouts and the shattering of plates making their way under your locked bedroom door as they fought. He'd lay against your headboard with you in between his legs against his chest and let you listen to music, tracing idle patterns on his arm as you zoned out. By the time red and blue lights flashed outside, you'd both be asleep.

You remembered one night in particular, the last fight your parents had before the divorce, how he'd come crawling in your window after the shouting had died down and your dad had left for a bar and mom was sobbing in her room. How Stu had lay beside you in you bed for hours, the two of you pressed together on the twin mattress. You'd buried your face in his chest and he rubbed circles in your back, only pausing in his motions when your sobs shook your whole body. He'd whispered reassurances to you, promises that he'd kill them if he could to spare you the pain, and soft little jokes to try and get you to laugh.

You hadn't, but his efforts were appreciated.

You spent most of that school year with the Macher family. Mrs Macher adored you and was relieved her son had a friend like you. You helped out around the house way more than any of her actual kids and she understood what it was like to deal with divorced parents. She and Stu's biological dad had gotten divorced not long after he was born but her new husband was so much better for them. She hoped you'd find the same comforts if your parents remarried.

You didn't tell her how Stu still called his dad some nights. How he'd drag you to pay phones after school to call him all the way in Europe. He missed him, just didn't know how to cope with that. The dial tone you were met with broke his heart a little more every time and you'd take him to get slushies afterwards to cheer him up.

Taking Stu into town to raid convenience stores had been the most fun you'd ever had. He always got blue and you'd get red and blue, scolding him whenever he tried to mix your drink to see if it'd make purple. Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him and he'd drink his own mixed up slushies with you on the side of the road. The summers were warm and it was easy for you two to stay out late, eating low-quality food and bathing in the LED lights outside wearing t-shirts and shorts, and holding hands as you ventured down the dark, empty Woodsboro streets together.

"I never want to go home," you'd told him one night while you sat on the curb outside the little store. "I just want to stay here with you forever."

He'd given you the softest look imaginable, half his face illuminated by the harsh blue lights leaking through the huge windows of the store behind you. "Yeah?" He'd had a particularly soft look in his eye when he spoke, voice all quiet.

You'd nodded, taking a loud slurp of your drink. "Everything's better with you around." You'd said it so plainly, brushing off the feeling of your own heart pounding at the admission.

He'd looked away, cheeks tinted pink, and you'd punched his arm gently for it and smiled when he laughed. The two of you sat drinking slushies alone together on the street. You'd only looked back over when Stu looked over his shoulder. When you followed his gaze, you raised an eyebrow. Why the hell was he staring at the cashier?

You got your answer when he quickly leaned over to kiss your cheek, a chaste thing that had your face heating up so fast that even holding your chilled hand to your face afterwards did nothing to cool you down. "You bastard!" You'd laughed, kicking at him while he stood up, giggling.

"You like me, you like me!" He taunted and you chased after him, the two of you laughing against the darkness, worn shoes hitting hard on the pavement.

It was that summer between freshman and sophomore year when you realized you were in love with him.

It had been an average summer day, lounging in Stu's room in a t-shirt and boxers. He'd gone out to grab snacks for you two and should've been back about half an hour ago. When he finally came home with a black eye, bloody nose, and bloody knuckles, he'd barely sat still long enough for you to bandage him. He wouldn't give you a straight answer about what happened to him or tell you what happened to the other guy.

But it was at that moment you'd wanted to kiss him and you felt so sick after the fact you couldn't even eat dinner, no matter how much Stu's mom pressed you to.

You did your best to keep Stu from finding out. Hanging out with him was still normal enough but it always left you with butterflies in your stomach.

It felt horrible. It felt like lying to him.

By the time sophomore year was in full swing though, Stu was all over Billy Loomis suddenly, leaving you alone most of the time. Which was fine, you told yourself. It was fine. So you made acquaintance with the skater kids, spent time smoking weed, and did whatever possible to avoid spending time at home, your's or Stu's. You ate alone outside the cafeteria and still wore skirts and eyeliner. You convinced yourself you didn't give a shit about Stu Macher. It was fine.

It wasn't.

The last time you saw him was when your mom was loading up her belongings into a small moving truck. The long, drawn-out custody battle had belongings split up appropriately, your dad being left the house while mom got the truck. So she wanted to move to pursue her dreams of becoming a famous Hollywood actress. You'd been helping load up boxes into the truck when you saw Stu watching you from across the street.

Once you'd set the box in the truck, you made your way over to him, frowning at the wistful look on his face. "So you're really going?" He hadn't looked at you as he spoke, just staring longingly at your empty bedroom window.

You crossed your arms over you chest, the fleece jacket you wore suddenly feeling too hot. "Guess so. Mom's found this shitty little apartment in Hollywood she wants to move to. Dad didn't want custody of me so... I'm going with her. Order of the state, I guess." Soft green eyes fell on you, unshed tears lingering.

You looked away from him when he spoke up. "I'm gonna miss you, y'know? Wish you could stay..."

You remember that you both had cried a little but you don't remember who had moved in to the kiss first. What you do know is you definitely kissed Stu Macher outside your shitty house in a shitty, bitterly cold November winter. And for the first time since you'd moved to Woodsboro, you didn't want to leave.

At first, you were incredibly supportive of your mother's dreams, a little happy to be away from your dad in Woodsboro and painful memories of the divorce, the bullying, and your unrequited-maybe-requited love for Stu Macher. Sure, you missed him like hell and it was annoying to change schools halfway through a semester, but the kids at your new school paid you little to no attention. Even when you'd let your hair grow down to your shoulders and cut yourself bangs with safety scissors in the school bathroom with some girls' help. You started selling weed and whatever stuff you could get your hands on to the older kids for cash and you were content for awhile.

You let yourself admire pretty boys in LA and made superficial friends with kids a grade above you that you didn't give a shit about but were fun to pass time with. One of the junior girls, Becky, had even taken you to their prom so you could all hang out. The rest of sophomore year and your entire junior year was mostly uneventful for you, thank god. Your older friends skipped their senior prom and took you out to McDonalds with the sole intent to get high later.

You were happy. As happy as you could be, anyways.

Until your mother stopped coming home. Always off to some rehearsal that was never always a real rehearsal and sometimes just her going off to get shitfaced with friends she'd made. Like mother, like son, perhaps. You rarely had food in the house anymore so you had to get a part time job in order to feed yourself. Most days, dinner was whatever you could steal from the cafeteria at school.

Things got harder when you both got evicted. Mom hadn't been paying rent. So you packed up your things and called your dad.

He had been... hesitant to let you move back home. After all, you only had one more year of school. But with your eighteenth birthday coming up, your dad agreed to let you stay with him for the last year of schooling. Your mothers drinking and drug habits eventually cost her custody of you. Most of the summer was spent packing your room and driving with your dad back upstate when he came to collect you.

If you closed your eyes, you can still hear her haunting wails as she begged you to stay with her.

Moving back to Woodsboro was... well, easy honestly. You settled back into your old room and had a chance to redecorate. Of course, dad tried to set harder limits with you but when you agreed to just pay part of the rent like you were a tenant, he relaxed a little. He didn't have to parent you, he could just be your landlord instead. It was an acceptable arrangement. You got a part time job at a records store nearby that summer, you turned eighteen, and you were surviving. Even if you had to buy your own food, that wasn't new for you. Thanks mom, you had groaned internally to yourself as you ate at Burger King more nights than not.

Senior year was going to be stressful, you knew that. A part of you had kind of assumed Stu wouldn't even remember you, that he'd likely gotten a girlfriend, joined some sports team, or had just plain moved on with his life. You two hadn't even kept up over the past few years, despite the fact you could have called to him or written to him.

You just... didn't.

You'd spend hours staring at the phone trying to will yourself to call him but it was too hard. It would be painful to listen to him gush about a girlfriend at school or talk about how successful he was compared to yourself. Though in hindsight, had you known you'd be coming back after a year and a half, maybe you would have just done it anyways.

Regardless, you showed up to senior year skating. You'd always loved skateboarding and had kept up the hobby while in Hollywood. Plus it made moving around faster. Your hair was still messy and intentionally unkempt, you had an oversized graphic t-shirts, and a worn flannel tied around your waist. The ripped jeans and dingy shoes you wore were the icing on the cake. You bailed off the board when you got close to the steps, carrying it under one arm as you made your way up to the front doors, ignoring the looks the freshmen kids gave you. The staring wasn't exactly new to you.

What was new was how fucking tall Stu Macher had gotten.

Seeing him leaning against a locker chatting with some girl made your stomach feel weird and tight. You'd recognize Casey Becker anywhere and suddenly found yourself wishing you could set her head on fire with your mind. You may have liked Stu when you were fifteen, but surely things were different now, you told yourself. Still... that didn't mean you had to like how goo-goo eyed he got while talking to her. So you looked away. You didn't see how he lit up when he saw you nor how he trailed off talking to Casey fucking Becker because he saw you. You just pressed onwards through the bustling hallways, headphones tight around your head and your eyes on the floor.

Until Stu lifted you up in his arms and spun you around.

"Fuck!" You screamed in shock, headphones falling off your head as he hugged you.

"You're back, you're really back! I heard you were back in town but I thought Randy was bullshitting me!" He was smiling at you with that bright look he always had when he was excited. "Hollywood not work out, superstar?" His snickering made you roll your eyes, mostly out of fondness. Same old annoying ass boy...

"More like mom crashed and burnt. I'm only back so I don't have to live on the streets," you shrugged but Stu's hands didn't leave their spot on your shoulders. "Didn't, uh... didn't think you'd miss me so much."

"Didn't miss you!?" He stared at you like you'd grown two heads. "Dude, I was fucking crushed when you left!" You bit your lip nervously and avoided his gaze. Neither of you were going to talk about the kiss, you knew that much. At least not in public. "I missed you more than anything. Missed you every fucking day." His soft tone had you staring up at him with wide, shocked eyes. He pulled you in for another hug and you immediately deflated, dropping the hard act you always put on for everyone else and wrapping your arms around him.

Stu wasn't like everyone else. He never had been.

He'd seen you crying in your bathroom over your parents fighting, seen you high and so out of your mind you had struggled to even talk, and knew you got slushies in both red and blue flavors but always poured red first and you never stirred it up. You let yourself hug him back, trying to avoid smudging the eyeliner you wore all over his shirt.

"I missed you too..." You mumbled, slowly becoming aware of the feeling of eyes on you. When you pulled back though, it wasn't the students lingering by their lockers or walking past you that were staring. It was Stu's friends, giving confused looks at you and each other. You recognized Billy Loomis and Randy Meeks at least but the two girls that followed them took you a minute to recognize. "They, uh, are they all your friends?" You gestured over his shoulder to where they were, which got Stu to turn and look when they approached you two.

"Oh! Hey guys, when'd you get here?" He grinned at you and you raised an eyebrow.

"Just arrived," Billy smirked and looked between you and Stu. "Tatum was looking for ya, actually." The ginger girl crossed her arms over her chest and was giving you a suspicious look.

"I thought you hated Tatum Riley." You mumbled to Stu's back as he led introduced you to the group: Billy Loomis, Sidney Prescott, Tatum Riley, and Randy Meeks. The latter couldn't seem to help his staring at you in particular.

"Nice, uh, style?" Randy tilted his head curiously at you. "What's the shirt for?" You glanced down at yourself and the shirt you had on. A sharpened candy cane with blood dripping down from it.

Smirking at Randy, you tugged the fabric of your shirt down a bit to let him see better. "It's for Black Christmas. A horror movie about a killer at Christmas who kills a whole sorority of girls."

Stu leaned up against the wall of behind you, peering over your shoulder. "That was always your favorite. We watched that at least, like, a million times." You shrugged lightly at his teasing with a soft smile. Of course he remembered, you made him watch that movie with you at least a dozen times in December alone.

Randy crossed his arms over his chest, looking smug all of a sudden. "Well, did you know that Black Christmas-"

"-was the inspiration for Halloween? Was filmed in Canada but the lead actress was British? Had so many people playing the killer that the director had no idea who did the iconic body-shot?" You cut him off, smirking at the clear surprise on his face. "Yeah, I'm not just pretty." Stu cackled at Randy's blush, obviously trying to hide how impressed he was.

"Ugh, not another boy obsessed with horror movies," Tatum rolled her eyes, nudging Sydney with her hip. "You and Randy will be like peas in a pod if you know trivia like that."

Something flashed over Stu's face briefly when she said that. "Well, sucks for Randy, I got dibs years ago." He said, straightening up.

As the group began chatting, you looked over at Billy Loomis, who had stayed particularly quiet the entire time, and were surprised to find him staring back at you. You raised an eyebrow and he tilted his head with a slight smile. It didn't strike you as strange immediately but you got the feeling Billy was sizing you up somehow. You didn't particularly care one way or another about the guy. He was friends with Stu, sure, but thats where it began and ended with you.

Not to mention you were still a bit jealous and bitter Stu had picked him over you all sophomore year up until you'd moved away.

But you got the impression Stu would be dragging you to group outings more. Maybe it would be better to get along with the rest of his friends.

The sound of rocks at your window was almost nostalgic, you thought, as you made your way to your window and slid it open. Stu was standing down in your front yard, his car parked in the driveway. Your dad had been called out for a night shift so you had been alone at home doing homework. The sticky September heat was getting to your head and you felt agitated and tired.

Seeing Stu boosted your mood a bit. "What brings you here, stranger?" You teased, crossing your arms on the windowsill as you leant against it.

The taller boy grinned up at you. "Wanna get out of here? Like old times?"

You scoffed. "Old times? Like, a year and a half ago?"

"Is that a no?" Stu pouted dramatically and you rolled your eyes fondly.

"Gimme a sec to change." You shut your window and blinds and started rooting around your room. A plain white tank top and high waisted jeans would be cute, you hummed to yourself. But it was too warm for pants, so you settled on a navy blue knee-length skirt you had in your closet. You usually went for darker colors when dressing but Stu wouldn't care how you looked one way or another. As if he knew a thing about fashion, you snorted to yourself as you recalled how he'd go days wearing the same pair of jeans.

Running a brush through your hair, you huffed at yourself. You could do your eyeshadow but with how dark it was, it wouldn't really be worth it. Instead, you put in your various piercings and made your way downstairs. Grabbing your wallet and keys, you made sure to lock the door behind you. Stu stood dressed in his classic jeans and a blue t-shirt, looking you up and down teasingly.

"Some things never change though, huh?" He gestured to your style and smiled wider when you flipped him off.

"You're still a jackass, so maybe you're right, yeah." You shot back, Stu laughing at your snark and watched with amusement as you took shotgun next to him. "Do you still have shitty taste in music?"

Stu balked at your tone as you started checking the radio stations. "I've never had shitty taste! Maybe if you had stayed, it could be to your standards." You knew he was joking but you still picked absently at a loose thread on your skirt, resting your feet up on the dashboard.

"I'm... you know I'm sorry about that, right?" Your voice was quiet as Stu started up the car. "I didn't get a say in the matter, dad didn't fucking want me."

Stu was quiet for a moment before reaching over the center console to squeeze your hand. Neither of you said anything but you let your fingers lace together in your lap and you blushed. Feelings for your friend hadn't really faded, just got put on a back-burner. It was... difficult to tell if Stu felt the same. On one hand, you suspected he was dating Casey Becker but on the other hand he was way too touchy with you to be completely disinterested.

The drive to the 7-11 was mostly silent except for the soft, tinny music leaking from the car's speakers. Some song by Nirvana, you recognized, but it was too quiet to make out the lyrics. Stu squeezed your hand as he pulled into the parking lot and the two of you stepped out.

The bright fluorescent lights felt more like home than your actual house.

"So, what trouble have you gotten into while I was gone?" You teased Stu as you followed him down the chips aisle. "Nothing I'd miss, surely?" It was mostly a jest but a part of you was a little worried he had more fun with you gone.

Stu just laughed, grabbing a few small chip bags and tossing your favorite flavor to catch. "Nah, nothing's as fun as causing trouble with you," he gave you a playful wink and you lightly kicked at his ankle. "Though... I guess something weird happened when you left."

"Oh?" You tilted your head curiously and followed him to the desserts aisle, grabbing Hostess sweets and a cup of mini Oreos. "What happened?"

Stu rubbed the back of his neck, glaring down at a Twinkie in thought. "Well, uh, Sydney's mom got murdered."

Your head snapped around to stare at him, horrified. "...weird isn't the word I'd use to describe that Stu! Christ, what happened?" You pestered him, poking him with a Twinkie.

"No one knows," the taller man shrugged, "got killed by one of her many, many hookups. Police didn't give too many details." You whistled, shaking your head in disbelief. You'd heard of Sydney's moms... history. You didn't really care that much, it wasn't like it was your business. "Killer's been sent to death though! Injection, according to the news." Stu continued as he followed you towards the slushie machine.

"Sounds... really fucking horrible, god," you said almost breathlessly. "Is Syd okay?" You were never very close to Sydney Prescott or her parents but you still felt a pit in your stomach hearing about the horrors she'd experienced only a year ago.

Stu nodded. "Yeah, she and Billy have actually been dating for a few years now! Got together after winter break in sophomore year actually, she's pretty nice." He handed you a slushie, made exactly how you liked it. You gave him a slight smile and followed him to cash out, absentmindedly sipping on the drink and staring out the glass doors.

Once you both were back in Stu's car, he started driving. The cool night lit up by the city lights was pretty. You admired the way the lights got smaller as Stu took you both up a bit into the mountains. "Where are we going?"

"There's a pretty sick spot just up here. Gives you a good view of the town, I think you're gonna love it." He gave you a mischievous look and turned up the music. The soft indie music washed over you for the short drive up the mountainside until you reached a clearing. Tall grasses enveloped a few picnic benches that sat not far from where you parked but Stu didn't move towards them.

The car had AC anyways so the two of you caught up in relative peace while you ate. You told him about your weed habits, going to junior prom in sophmore year, and your inebriated mother that was probably still trying to drink her way into a job. He told you about his relationship with Casey Becker and how she'd dumped him not long before school started to date Steven Orth.

"Steven Orth?!" You gawked, disgusted. "He's, like, a total fucking douchebag!"

"I know!" Stu lamented, burying his face in his hands. "Honestly, all the football players are asshats, you have no idea!"

As was tradition, the two of you had been debating about A Nightmare on Elm Street when you'd felt the energy shift. You'd been in the middle of explaining how the police should have known Rod Lane couldn't have killed Tina Gray because he was absolutely spotless while the rest of the room was a bloodbath when you noticed Stu's looking you over. Closely.

"Do you ever think about it?" He interrupted you quietly.

"Think about... what?" You asked innocently, tilting your head. You both were sitting awkwardly in the backseat, cross-legged and facing each other. Stu lay his head a bit on the headrest of his seat as he stared at you, blinking slowly.

"You know what." He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

You did. But you wanted to hear him say it. "Nightmare on Elm Street? I mean, not usually, it's nowhere near my favorite-"

Stu smirked and nudged you lightly with his knee. "Not the movie, dumbass. I mean... the day you left."

You gave him a quick glare. "Say it."

Stu frowned, chewing on his bottom lip. "When we kissed." His voice was barely a whisper.

You folded your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you both avoided looking at each other. "Yeah, sometimes." You felt his eyes on you when you spoke. "Thought about it the entire drive to Hollywood too."

"Do you want to..." Stu trailed off and you gave him a look. "Do you want to do it again?" He was suddenly fascinated by your shoes, staring intensely to avoid looking at you.

The silence felt deafening as you weighed the pros and cons in your mind, of which there were only a few cons you could think of at the moment.

Quietly, you pushed his back up against the seat so he was now facing the front of the car and you straddled his lap, blushing when his hands instinctively moved to hold your hips. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates when you leant in to kiss him, effectively answering his question.

Pulling back and pressing your foreheads together, you were both effectively out of breath and you could feel you both were half hard. The two of you had been making out for the better part of half an hour and you felt your blood singing. Stu had one hand under your skirt, toying with the hem of your underwear, and another hand gripping your hips to help maintain a slow grind with you. Your hands were tight on his shoulders and your head felt heavy. "How," you panted softly, "far are we taking this?"

Stu pressed his forehead to your chest, grinning wildly. "As far as you want, honestly." He huffed before gazing up at you with bright eyes. "Would love to fuck you though." You felt your face heat up and you whined in response, rocking harshly against Stu. "Yeah?" He teased you, running his hands up your left leg and caressing your inner thigh. "You want that?"

"You're a bitch," you whined, tilting your head back. Stu took the opening to kiss your neck, biting down gently. You tightened your legs around his waist and tried to avoid hitting the horn on the steering wheel. He lifted your skirt more to give himself easier access to you, his hands reaching down to cup your ass.

"I'm your bitch," he countered with a giggle. You kissed him, biting on his lower lip to try and gain entry to his mouth. Pressing your tongues together was sultry, made your cock throb with need. When you scraped your nails down Stu's arms, he groaned into your mouth. "Oh god, fuck," he gasped as he pulled away, thrusting his hips up involuntarily as little pink lines popped up on his skin. "Fuck, please say I can fuck you babe, please."

You hummed, nodding enthusiastically. "Okay," you whispered to him, burying your face in his neck. "Just- Just be gentle, okay?" You didn't want to tell Stu you hadn't had sex before, but you hoped he could just tell. He pulled your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the backseat. You kissed him again, tugging on his shirt as well. "Off." You said defiantly and he relented, letting you pull off his shirt.

"So bossy," he teased and kissed you again. "Missed you more than anything." Stu ran his hands up your flanks, hiking your skirt up.

The laugh bubbled in your throat, threatening to escape. "You jus' saying that 'cause you're gonna get laid?" You teased.

Stu pressed kisses to your throat with a thoughtful hum. "Obviously," he smiled, sarcasm oozing from his voice, "been waitin' to do this since we were, fuckin', fifteen or something. Sooo, obviously, once we're done 'm gonna go get a girlfriend or something." He joked, kissing you softly.

You just rolled your eyes when you pulled back. His words took a minute to set in. "Wait, that long?!" Your eyes widened almost comically.

Stu rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking shy. "Yeah, I, uh, I've liked ya for awhile, baby." For some reason, that was what made you blush.

"Gay," you grumbled, kissing him again. "You gonna fuck me or not?"

"Oh, such a romantic!" Stu fanned himself dramatically, fake moaning. You smacked his chest playfully as he shifted you off his lap. "One sec," he huffed, reaching over the center console to open the glove box. He pulled out a bottle of lube and sat back down.

You blinked. "You have a habit of having sex in your car?" Stu blushed and you raised an eyebrow.

"Nah, uh, just a habit of jerking it when I skip class." He shot you a wink and unbuttoned his jeans. You rolled your eyes, moving to pull your skirt down but Stu stilled your hands. "Uhh... can I uh- can I fuck you in the skirt?"

You stared at him. "Yeah, s-sure." You swallowed and tugged your underwear down, setting it aside before climbing back in Stu's lap. He looped his arms around your waist with a content sigh. "What, you got a thing for skirts?" You joked, running a hand through his hair.

Stu looked up at you, resting his chin on your middle. "Just got a thing for you."

The two of you stared at each other for a long moment before you sank onto his lap with a whine, kissing him deeply. He ran his hands up under the back of your tank top and pulled it off over your head. Slowly, he ran his hands slowly up your thighs and you felt yourself jump. "Cold," you mumbled, pressing your face into his neck.

He leant his head against yours with a soft chuckle. "You do this before?" Your deafening silence made Stu still. "Wait, really?"

"Who would I have slept with?" You pulled back to squint at him.

"I dunno!" He pouted. "Maybe I thought you got a boyfriend or somethin' out in Cali!"

Softening, you cupped his face. "No. Just- just you..." His eyes widened and you felt your face heat up. "Wait-"

"I'm your boyfriend?" Stu's voice was soft and you felt his arms tighten around you. You couldn't bear to look at him, face hot and embarrassed tears pricking your eyes. "Hey, don't cry- Baby, look at me."

When you finally looked at him, tears falling down your cheeks and burning your eyes, he was staring up at you like you were the only thing in the world. He brushed his thumb under your eyes and kissed you. "I'll happily be your boyfriend. If ya want, y'know." You giggled wetly at his attempts to be nonchalant about it. Nodding, you sniffled and he kissed along your neck.

Leave it to Stu to make you weepy and then immediately return to wanting to fuck you.

He bit down gently, sucking small hickies into your neck and making you writhe in his hold. "Stu-"

"Look, if I'm your boyfriend, I gotta make sure everyone else knows." He gave you a wink and your blush got worse somehow. His hands ran back up your skirt and you ground your erection against the rough material of his jeans. "Aww, want me that bad?" He taunted you.

You heard the cap of the lube bottle crack open and you tensed instinctively. "Shh," Stu whispered in your ear and let you hide your face in his neck. "It's okay baby, easy." His words soothed you a little bit but you still tensed up a bit. "Lemme love on ya a lil, yeah?"

In hindsight, Stu should have probably held the bottle in his hands a bit before prepping you. In hindsight, had you known the two of you would be having sex in his car, you would have moved to the back in the first place to prevent you accidentally setting off the car alarm when you leant back.

But neither of those things were considered. So, here you two were: in the backseat of his car, both now undressed minus your skirt, with you on your back and him leaning overtop of you, one of your legs hooked over his shoulder and the other pushed aside into the open space behind the driver seat. Stu's face was flushed red and you swung an arm over your eyes to avoid being looked at.

Gently, he brushed your arm away and pinned your arm above your head. You shuddered when he pressed the head of his cock against you - closing your eyes at the phantom feelings his fingers left behind inside you. He was shockingly gentle and thorough during the prep, pulling you apart to a begging mess with his hand alone. Biting and kissing on your neck as you rocked your hips against him, pleading with him for more, faster, anything-

"Lemme look atcha," Stu chuckled once your face was in view again. You whined and rocked against him, wordlessly begging. "Ask me nicely, baby. Tell me whatcha want."

You let out a helpless moan. "Fuck me, please, Stu. Need you so bad-"

"Anything for you," was the only warning you got before he pressed the head of his cock inside you. You threw your head back instinctively with a soft moan at the feeling of being opened like that. Hot and wet and-

"Fuck, please-" You begged, blindly reaching for your boy. He held your hand - because he was good like that - and kissed your knuckles. He gave you what you wanted and slid in deeper. Slowly. Making sure you feel every inch. Quickly, you snapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the loud moan.

Stu put a hand against your throat and squeezed. Not hard enough to choke you properly, but enough to make your body tense instinctively. "Don't do that baby, c'mon, you're doin' so well."

You dropped the hand and let out a moan, biting on your lip. Stu seemed pleased by this but he kept his hand on your neck as he moved his hips slowly. He hadn't bottomed out yet but he'd already begun a slow back and fourth, in and out of you. Working his way inside you, letting your insides get hot and gooey from the lube and from his pre.

When he finally, finally, bottomed out, you were shaking from the sensations of being filled, of being fucked. Stu leant forward and kissed you, squeezing harder at your neck to make you squeak. "That's my pretty boy," he said breathlessly. "Fuck, you're jus' made for me, huh? Made to take my cock, look at you."

You turned your head to the side, feeling yourself burn under his gaze - blue eyes completely eclipsed and making you feel seen. Your eye caught a glimpse of something metal reflecting the moonlight seeping in from the car's window. As soon as you realized what it was, you felt yourself clench down on the cock inside you.

Stu followed your eyes with a slow smile. Gently reaching over under the passenger's door, he pulled out a sharp hunting knife. Clean - too clean, your logical mind tried to scream but you were too focused on being fucked to care - and a mask. A white face that reminded you of Scream painting you'd seen in an art class in Cali.

He turned the knife over in his hand, looking you over almost curiously. "You like it?" His voice was practically taunting. "Just like those horror movies. Wanna be the cute slut who dies first?" His voice had a menacing edge to it, making you whimper. "Nah," he said softly, kissing you again. "You're my final girl, without a doubt."

"Stu-" You choked out, clenching your thighs around his hips.

Slowly, he looked at the mask, then the knife, and then back at you. You writhed under his gaze, wanting him to move. Slowly, he put the mask on over his face. The white mask combined with the black hood completely obscured his face. You could hear his heavy breathing as he turned the knife over in his hand.

You helplessly let out a moan as he snapped his hips forward.

"Please-" you begged, feeling the knife drag up and down your spread thighs. A featherlight touch but a touch nonetheless. It was fucked up. You knew that. You should tell him to stop, that this was insane.

But fuck if you didn't like it anyways.

Stu tilted his head - it reminded you of Michael Myers observing prey - and you rocked back against him. "Is this how my final girl survives?" His voice was lower, muffled by the mask. "Caught by the killer and offers him sex to survive?"

You nodded frantically, letting the fantasy of the words wash over you, and you felt his hand around your throat again.

Overtop of you, Stu barely looked like himself. Hand at your neck, knife at your thigh, and empty eyes of the mask boring into you. He picked up the pace, fucking you faster and tracing the point of the knife up over your abdomen. "God you're gorgeous," you heard Stu say to himself. "I wanna carve you open and keep you all to myself. Rip your heart out so no one else can have it."

Despite how fucked up it was, you only moaned louder.

The wet squelching sounds from the copious amounts of lube as well as Stu's own precum made the sex sound foul. Like you were some helpless final girl, caught and pinned by her own killer. But you liked it. And wasn't that the sick, twisted part of it all.

Because you knew it was Stu. Who would never hurt you really. Who you were pretty sure didn't have a killer bone in his body, much less against you.

"G-gonna- Gonna cum-" You gritted your teeth to hold back another moan.

"Go on princess, cum for me. Show me how good you feel." You felt the point of the knife teasing your cock and the cold shock of the metal was what did you in. You came helplessly, back bowing, and all but gushing over the knife and on your skirt. "Fuck, such a good boy." Stu growled, fucking you through your orgasm and reaching his own.

Cum pooled inside you, hot, sticky, and you fucking loved it. You felt drunk off the feeling, trembling in Stu's hold.

The mask came off then. Stu's hair stuck to his forehead a bit from sweat but his eyes were bright and he was smiling at you like you'd given him the world. You gave him a soft smile back and winced when he pulled out. "Damn, babe, I knew you had it in ya! You'd make a killer final girl." He shot you a wink before reaching for the center console to grab wet wipes.

You scoffed. "Obviously. I'm built for the role. Unless I'm the killer and then you're my final girl."

Stu seemed to light up at that. "Aww, that's the sweetest thing anyone's said to me," he fanned himself dramatically, making you laugh. He was methodical in cleaning you both up, letting you enjoy your afterglow. Once he was done, you snagged his shirt and pulled it on over your head.

That got a reaction. His eyes widened ever so slightly and you beckoned him towards you with a finger. "C'mere," you mumbled, "I wanna cuddle before we have to go back." It was late after all. And you still had school in the morning, as tragic as it was.

Stu held you in his lap, playing absentmindedly with your hair as he stared at the mask and knife he'd returned under the seat in front of him. Maybe he'd tell you. Let you in on his and Billy's plan for later that fall. Maybe you'd help out, join in on being Ghostface. Or, at the very least, know to stay out of their way to avoid being killed. Or maybe he wouldn't tell you.

But the thought of you getting hurt made his stomach hurt.

Later, he'd call Billy and tell him. That either you were completely off the table or you were going to be involved. Billy would listen to his rambles quietly the whole time. Once Stu was done, Billy would tell him they'd talk about it at school tomorrow - face to face. And Stu would recognize that Billy's wasn't that angry tone he sometimes had when Stu frustrated him. And Stu would hope that he could still have you, when everything was said and done.

But right now? Right now, he just closed his eyes and kissed the top of your head. He felt you huff, content, and stared out the foggy car window at the faint lights of Woodsboro below.

It really was a nice view.

[llaberration]

Coyne's Chronicles: Shadow Over Yfiria - Chapter 3

[[Warning, this story contains safe soft vore themes, don't like, don't read :)]] [[Remember to start at the prologue! :) ]]

“Alan?”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever considered the possibility that we might catch more suspicious individuals if you didn't do that?”

“Do what?”

Thenore sighed, running a slow eye over his companion.

Somewhat round at the waist, with his long, pale blonde hair plaited around itself to keep it out of his way, clad in the bright red and orange robes of a college initiate, the other mage stood out like a sore thumb. As if that were not enough, the man was standing with his fingers pressed firmly to his temples, eyes narrowed closely at every passer by. When people saw this on their approach, they invariably changed direction to avoid the pair with the greatest possible care. Those who did foolishly venture closer, inevitably veered away violently when they caught a good look at the mage's eyes. A pair of orbs so dark that they did not even reflect light and glisten like normal eyes. Each one was like a pit, filled with Stygian blackness that even the sunlight was unable to touch, and at the centre of each eye sat a point of white light that gave the illusion of looking at you no matter where you stood. Even the beggars were staying well clear of them! “That.”

“WHAT?”

“The whole... 'I'm obviously a mage, probably insane and definitely reading your mind' thing?”

Thenore had taken significantly more care to disguise himself than his companion had. He was sitting on a barrel behind Alan, dressed in shabby dark brown travelling robes. He had his hood up to conceal his long, well kept, curly brown hair and general sense of hygiene. He had allowed himself to go unshaven for a few days, and looked for all the world like a typical wall worker.

“I don't read minds,” replied Alan, “And don't call me Alan. You know the college doesn't let us use our pre-initiate names Trevor.”

“Oh. Sorry. Of course. A place that calls itself 'Meadowfield' can really be trusted as a good authority on naming things.” snorted Thenore sarcastically. “It's basically the same thing as calling it Fieldfield College. Stupid bloody management.” He cleared his throat, and spoke in less of a mutter, “Well. AeRiNtH...” he intentionally wavered his voice as he said the name to make it sound even more ridiculous. “Don't you think we would look a bit less obvious if you wore normal clothes and stopped doing that?”

“It helps me focus,” objected the mage, letting his hands fall to his sides. “You don't understand, you can't see them...” he gestured out into the square, where his gifted, unusual eyes saw a nightmare tangle of lights and trails left by every individual passing through. All smearing together and mixing and melding as each one was disturbed by more passing by. When he focused his mind, he could thin them, make them easier to read and less smudgy...

“No. I know. But really. Do you think anyone suspicious is going to come within a mile of a college robed mage who is obviously doing some kind of magical shenanigans?”

“It's my job!” snapped the tall mage, defensively, glaring at Thenore, who, to him, looked like a glowing smear of green, marbled with swirls of intense darker greens and blues. He could see the face and body underneath the brightness, but it was tricky for him, faded and concealed by the energy signature. He had a lot of trouble reading expressions sometimes when he was not focused.

“No, it's a college assignment because the lecturers didn't know what else to do with you. And we'd both look better if we did well at it. As it stands we have caught exactly zero unlicensed magic users and zero abominations.”

“That's not true! We got that guy yesterday!”

“He wasn't a magic user. He had a single cursed goblet with a curse so lame that he didn't even know it was cursed!”

“Yes. But we caught him, and now the... uh... dangerous item is in custody.”

Thenore pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, and took a long, calming breath. “Dangerous. Item. Yes.” He said, referring to the tankard that they had confiscated. It carried the potentially deadly curse that everything you put in it would taste faintly of blackcurrant. Not enough to actually be called a flavour... more like someone shouted the word 'blackcurrant' at you from a distance while you were drinking it. “Could you at least not wear the robe?”

“I'm on assignment... we should both be wearing them!”

“If you weren't wearing it, you would scare off less people. You'd just look like a normal garden variety loony! I could put a bowl in front of you, act like we needed money for food. At least we'd get something out of this waste of time.”

“It's not a waste of time! I'm learning to improve my skills and focus.”

“So why am I here?” Thenore raised an eyebrow.

“Sometimes I wonder that too...” muttered Alan, under his breath.

Unfortunately not quietly enough to fool the druid's elevated hearing though, and Thenore's face soured, “I could always just go back to the college if you don't want me. Then when a dragon walks through here there'll be no 'Oh. Oh Thenore, please protect me. Please turn into a nice big bear and keep me safe,' you'll just have to squint them to death.”

Alan huffed a bit, “There's no need to be like that about it.”

Thenore scoffed, “I don't even deserve to be punished by going on assignment here. I'm not like you with your eyes...”

Alan shot him a sideways glance. “You... did... try and eat someone...”

“One time!” hissed Thenore. “By accident! When provoked!”

“I know... I'm just saying... maybe that's why you're here... I need to practice my sight, and you need to practice your... self control...” he tailed into silence as the expression on his colleague's face told him it would be wise to stop digging.

They were quiet for a few minutes, awkward.

Alan or 'Aerinth' as the College had renamed him, returned to watching people, interpreting the colours and trails of their life forces. He was still learning what colour represented what... he normally based his understanding on how vivid the colours were, or if they were diluted by another shade. Trevor or 'Thenore' seemed to have green as his assigned colour, glowing a great deal brighter than the non-magic users around them, interspersed with vivid shades of blues and cyans that glittered like fire when he was activating his gift.

Normal folks could be just about any colour that existed, and then some. So could animals, and what Alan was looking for were ones who glowed bright or contained the telltale signs of a second colour. Anything could be magical. People and animals naturally, objects less commonly, as they had to be intentionally infused through the use of various magic. Their job was simple. Anything magical you find. Be it person, animal or object, take it and send it to the college.

If it was a person it would be trained to control the gift, and likely drafted into military use, animals would often get the same treatment. Objects would be certified for usefulness and then either left in the basement of the college if they were useless, or put to an appropriate use if they were not.

Of course... if they found something really dangerous like a monster, or something plagued, they had to inform the forces at the wall and have them kill it. Closest thing he had seen so far though was when they had found a goblin scurrying along the base of the wall in the middle of the night.

This side of the wall no longer contained much of anything like that. Their side of the continent had been highly militarised, and the fey, beasts and monsters that had once lived there had been processed along with everything else to optimise the land for war.

The other side of the wall was wilder, less civilised, less developed. Which meant more dangerous things roamed out there. Thenore had often expressed that he wanted to go and explore it, the druid in him feeling more at home where there was no cold stone barriers to hold him in. Alan did not share that urge. He was not outdoorsy like his farm-born, sinewy companion. He was pale, fair and soft. Ill suited to the hardships of the world outside. Life at the college suited him rather well. Given that he had no choice but to sign up, he was one of the lucky ones to have discovered he really liked it.

He had not been born magically gifted like Trevor. He had been a regular child, raised by a comfortable family of book keepers and accountants in the capital city.

Cities came with their own dangers though, the high population and sense of dread brought on by the war caused the emotions to ferment in a boiling pot of negativity. Such things are known to attract monsters, or draw the dead from their plane, waking and angering them. It was not uncommon for possession or haunting to occur suddenly and without warning, even in the most upbeat of people. It was just part of life in the capital city.

He had been the tender age of nine when it had happened. A powerful spirit, resentful of having died at war found him. Somehow having slid through the veil that seperated Mal'tel, the plane of the living and Da'yvan, the quiet plane of the dead, it came to the young man whispering of power and promises of fine things.

He had agreed, never realising that he was being tricked into a dangerous pact, and believing the spirit to be a friend. It had taken complete control of him.

Fortunately, his story did not end with a rampage and death as many did. His uncle, gifted with limited magic himself, had spotted the change in him instantly, and a college mage had been summoned to cast out the spirit.

A slightly overzealous mage.

A slightly overzealous mage with a penchant for simply flooding a body with so much healing power that it just forced out the invading spirit.

He had inadvertently overdosed the youngster on magic, forcing the young man's body to cope with a dosage far higher than any human was supposed to experience. He had exposed him to such a high dose of magic that Alan became capable of generating his own, as though it had jump-started a new, magical heart within him. At first, his parents had hoped that the effects would eventually fade out, but as he grew, so did his abilities. Eventually, his parents had had no choice but to surrender him to the college as it continued to demand all magic users be turned over. He couldn't really be hidden among normal people at that point, for his eyes, now able to see more, had taken on the look of someone heavily under the influence of magic. All the colour had slowly been washed from his irises until they were as pure and white as the eye around them, and his pupils had been the only variation within them. Then the colours had inverted almost overnight. Now surrounded by utter darkness, his pupils glittered and glowed like a pair of distant stars in the orb, reflecting light that simply wasn't there. His lecturers had said he was reflecting the light of the energies he could see, but that didn't make them an any less unsettling sight to those not informed about the nature of his abilities.

Now, despite ten years at Meadowfield, for the most part, his sight was all he could really do with his magic. The ability to see energies and trails that they left behind. The college had taught him a few additional tricks, more traditional mind-magic spells to fool the eyes of others, but he was still had a lot left to learn. They were really just trying to have him master and control his sight before they poured more effort into teaching him new magics. Most of the years he had been at the College had been basic education rather than magic as it was considered a prerequisite for magic users. He was okay with that. For as long as they thought he still needed more training, he avoided being sent to war. They both had the basic set of spells all students were started out with... various types of personal shielding, simple close range offensive abilities, that kind of thing, but any further teaching had been withheld 'for safety.'

Trevor was different from him in almost every way. Alan had picked up his story over their years together at the college and found it actually less exciting than his own. Born on a farm to a poor family, he had been working since he was old enough to hold even the most basic of tools. His older siblings had all gone to war one by one before him, and when he had turned fifteen, and was preparing for the same treatment the following year when he had suffered a severe fever, not uncommon for druids when their powers awakened. He had recovered, as they do, and shortly thereafter, a sneezing fit had caused vines to sprout aggressively from the soil around him when he was helping to plant seeds.

Like all druids, his connection was to plants and animals, and according to him, at first, his family had kept it a secret, letting him use his powers to make the crops grow faster and larger... but when the time came for the military to come and take him, in a natural fear-reaction, he had abruptly turned into a rabbit in the grip of an extremely surprised solider.

Honestly they had both been pretty surprised by this, the way Thenore told the story, and before he knew it he had been bundled into a sack, plied with a slightly soggy lettuce and sent on his way to the college.

He had arrived, still in the sack but no longer a rabbit, to a warm welcome. Druids were highly valued for their ability to help food grow, and change into powerful animals in combat.

Something about the way the man told the story didn't quite ever ring true in Alan's ears, mostly the part about his family, and their reaction to his magic, but the man knew not to pry. Trevor was very resistant to sharing anything other than his scripted story, so even if he had tried, he would not have received any clarification.

From what Alan had seen, College life had not suited Trevor the way it had suited him. The man was forever staring out of windows, circling near doors and pacing restlessly at whatever barriers and cages he was presented with.

The wall was no different to Trevor. Just one giant cage to keep him in.

Perhaps that was why he was always so grumpy.

Though they had not been friends as such in the college, they had been a similar age when they joined and had effectively finished growing up in the same small class of initiates, their differences keeping them from ever getting along. Alan tried, but Trevor just wasn't a friendly fellow.

He was, at best, a sarcastic ass, and at worst, a literal bear with a sore head.

And what a temper.

The incident that had got Trevor sent along to the wall with him had been three weeks ago now. One of the older initiates had been poking fun, as they often did, trying to get him to turn into things for their amusement.

He had responded as positively as could be expected. By turning into a bear and attempting to eat his fellow student whole.

Of course it hadn't worked, but he had managed far enough to put an absolute terror into the graduate before the lecturers had intervened.

Two days later, they had been riding one of the college's pony carts to the wall. Alan had detailed instructions to practice his abilities on the people passing through the gate, confiscating magical items and individuals for Meadowfield, and Trevor had been along for 'protection.'

Alan knew it was practice he needed, but his companion continued to deny requiring any kind of field-work of this nature. Being this close to the wall seemed to have him even grumpier than usual, perhaps due to the claustrophobic feeling of living beneath something that cut the sky in half.

Alan found himself looking up at the structure, in awe of its hugeness. No building like it had ever existed before. It stood two hundred feet in height, and as long as the continent. Built out of solid stone blocks so huge it had taken an army of strongmen and magic users to construct. The way the story went, they had levelled an entire mountain range for the stone.

All along the inside of the wall ran wooden platforms, on the highest platform stood huge, powerful weapons. Enormous tribuchets, war bows, catapults and huge vats that sat ready to be filled with boiling or dangerous liquids.

On the lower levels were living quarters and storage space for the army that staffed the wall, accompanied by many slit windows for watching the land on the other side, and firing arrows when required. Men had spent their entire lives living and fighting on the wall.

On the other side of the wall, to the naked eye, lived a slightly wild land with scattered towns, it did not appear dangerous and certainly if that were the only thing there, the wall would be unnecessary... but beyond that. Beyond the border towns, and beyond the land beyond laid their enemy, a rival kingdom not entirely unlike their own, once their rivalry had been economic... then it had become military. After fifty years of war, the other kingdom had begun experimenting with dangerous magics, foolish things to interfere with, and it had gone wrong. Now, it was corrupted by darkness, a plague that had consumed them first of all. Now, it sent emissaries of destruction towards Sidkenhall, their homeland, every day, and the wall had been built to keep them out.

They looked quite often like normal people or animals. But they carried the darkness with them, a plague, which, once inside their land, would spread among the people, sickening them, weakening them slowly. When they finally died, they would continue to walk, spreading the plague further until they rotted to dust.

Sometimes they looked like horrible monsters, beasts made of nothing but sword, stone and hatred... but those were easy to see coming. Those passing as normal people were the reason the college stationed trained mages everywhere the wall had a doorway. Alan was not one of those trained mages, though his sight could easily pick out the darkness when he saw it. No. He and Thenore were there only to collect magical goods and enlist magical folks.

The three mages stationed here at the door to watch for the darkness lived on the wall, and had not taken the time to even acknowledge the two initiates. Something Alan felt a little resentful about. He tried hard not to resent anyone. He wasn't a person who enjoyed resenting at all, but there it was.

“Besides... that guy had it coming,” speaking of resentment, a snarky voice brought Alan back to the present, and he glanced at the familiar green smear.

“Hm?”

“The guy I tried to eat. I don't make a habit out of it you know.”

“Mhmm,” Alan rolled his strange eyes, and looked back to the people wandering through the square. One of them was carrying a full sized pig as though it were a human baby, and though this was odd, he did not feel the need to flag it up as being something they ought to be concerned about.

“I don't!” Thenore sounded increasingly indignant, and Alan spared him a glance as the man's energy flared bright green.

“You should calm down,” he offered gently, “If you get angry and turn into a bear here, you're going to make quite a scene.”

“Says the guy dressed in the bright orange robes staring at everyone like a madman.”

Alan let out a deep sigh, “If I agree to wear something less obtrusive tomorrow, do you agree to lay off with the negativity? I'm only trying to do my... our job here.”

The druid treated him to his finest blank stare for a long moment before giving an exaggerated huff. “Fine. It's a deal. If you try to look less... obtrusive, I will be Mr Sunshine as of tomorrow morning.”

Alan frowned at his colleague, not for a moment believing him. Still, even if he got the sarcastic druid to cheer up for a half hour, he would consider it a win.

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

<<First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

And thus we meet the other big players in the story, well, two of them. And learn a little more about the world around them. No vore in this chapter, I apologise, I am a little heavy on the story for those who do not know me, but fear not we will return to Coyne and Fez in the next Chapter!

[seths-rogens]

HERE IS THE REPEATED IMAGE OF THE LOVER DESTROYED | PART 2

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 3 (Soon)

He could quite clearly remember their first official meeting. He says official because, well, to put it bluntly, Edmund had been watching the young Lord for quite some time. He needed to make sure the man was right for the job after all.

It was infuriating how inherently good he was.

Stephen seemed to have it all. The manor house, the pure heart the, uh, looks. 

Edmund watched from afar as Stephen played with the village children, chasing them around and pretending not to find them when they played hide and go seek. He would race horses with a tall woman who seemed to prefer the more masculine trousers to the pastel dresses of her peers. They would hang all over each other when they weren’t riding, trading jabs and giggling at the silliest of jokes. 

Edmund watched Stephen practise his swordsmanship with a small, fierce woman with features so sharp they could make you bleed. Despite the dresses she wore - in darker shades of purple and blue - she was never hindered. The pair were almost always equally matched.  

Edmund always enjoyed watching them spar, those trousers did wonders for Stephen’s behind.

But that first real meeting, Edmund had made quite the impression.

Sat in the shadowed alcove of Stephen’s bedroom window, Edmund cut chunks out of a juicy red apple with his third favourite dagger. It had a bronze handle, inlaid with small blood red gemstones. It was stolen, of course, you don’t come by these things easily. (His favourite dagger was a family heirloom, sharp metal with a carved wooden handle. His uncle had made it, back when he was young and times were easier.)

Stephen had walked into his bedroom with a groan, brow sweaty as he rolled out the kinks in his neck. His shirt was unlaced down to just below his sternum, showing off a toned chest covered with a thick thatch of dark hair. His belt hung undone, though his sword still hung from his hip. 

Stephen walked right past Edmund, stripping off his shirt as he went and revealing his toned arms and back. Edmund chomped down on a large piece of apple to stop his thoughts straying from his mission. 

“So. You’re Lord of the house, huh?”

Stephen startled, unsheathing his sword and spinning towards the window. “Who’s there?”

Edmund carved another apple chunk, staying encased in shadow. “A bit young for a Lord, aren’t you?”

“Show yourself.” Stephen all but growled.

Edmund hopped down from the window, stepping into the candlelight. He bowed low, a smirk sitting pride of place on his lips. “My lord.”

The point of a sword tapped gently at the underside of his chin. Oh, that should not give him butterflies. “Who are you?”

Edmund raised slowly to standing. “Edmund the Exiled, my Lord. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Exiled? From where?”

“Why Henry’s Kingdom, of course. A wretched man, he is.”

Stephen lowered his sword. “And you’re here, why?”

“I’d heard Hawkins is nice this time of year.”

“I meant here as in my bedchamber.”

“Ah.” Edmund nodded. “Well, as you know, Henry is a cruel king. He does not care for the people he presides over. He cares only for power.” He grimaced, venom spitting from his words. “He is a violent and wrathful king, and an end must be brought to his reign.”

Stephen walked over to a hook on the wall, hanging his sword from it. He moved to the bed and pulled a bundle of cloth out from beneath the pillow before slipping it over his head. A nightshirt and by Gods it looked soft. Edmund had the urge to rub his cheek against it like a cat. 

“What does this have to do with me?” 

“There’s an… oppositional force growing. We’ve already amassed a large number of men.”

“Go on.”

“We’re going to overthrow the king. And we need someone to take his place.”

___________________

His legs felt numb. Every step he took weighed down with lead. His hands hadn’t stopped shaking. They were still coated in Stephen’s blood. It was dry now. 

His mind was blank. He didn’t allow himself the luxury of thought. Couldn’t. If he did he would break, fall into a pit of despair so deep he wouldn’t be able to crawl back out. He would crumble into a million tiny little pieces. Poof into dust right there on the footpath.

Oh, there was a footpath. He must be nearing Hawkins. 

He kept on stumbling forward. 

He couldn’t say how much time had passed. Minutes since he’d last kissed Stephen’s lips. Hours since he’d left his body. 

It must’ve been a while. The sky was pink with the early dawn as Edmund finally broke through the trees, crested the hill. He paused.

Hawkins lay at the bottom. The farmers were already out, tending their crop, their wains running amok in the fields. He could see Nancy training alone in the courtyard.

Edmund tripped over his feet as he started to move again. It was like he was floating, his feet not really touching the ground yet still carrying him forward. 

No time passed at all by the time he reached the end of town. He could feel the eyes of the villagers falling upon his dishevelled, blood soaked appearance but still couldn’t stop.

He came to a halt at the edge of the courtyard. Nancy was striking at a cloth covered block of wood with her sword, grunting as the blade hit. 

She gasped when she saw him, dropping her sword to the ground. “Edmund?” 

Edmund couldn’t speak. He was frozen. 

“Robin!” Nancy called out, fear lacing her voice. 

Robin came stumbling down the manor steps, book in hand and not watching where she was going. “I’m at a really good part of the book, Nance. I swear if you called me just to spar with you--”

“Robin.” Nancy spoke gravely, eyes latched onto Edmund’s bloody hands. 

“What?” Robin raised her head from her book. She followed Nancy’s gaze to where Edmund stood, shoulders hunched. She caught sight of the blood, flinched. “No.”  Her voice was no louder than a whisper. She repeated herself, louder. “No.”

It’s that that broke him.

Tears began to flow freely, spilling in endless rivulets down Edmund’s dirty cheeks. He fell to his knees, curling in on himself as sobs started to wrack his body. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

He forced his eyes open, staring up at Robin. She was barely holding herself together, face and eyes red as she held back tears. “Where is he?” 

Edmund could only shake his head. 

“Edmund, where is he?” It was the harshest her voice had ever been, no trace of the usual soft rasp. 

“He’s gone. Went in my arms.”

Robin let out an involuntary sob. “No. No, he can’t be.” She was crying in earnest, fat, wet tears streaming. “He’s always been okay. He’s never- Oh gods.”

She turned on her heel, storming back into the manor. 

“Robin!” Nancy called after her. Robin didn’t respond.

Edmund ducked his head, knees aching in the dirt. He flinched when a small hand touched his back.

“Just me.” Nancy spoke softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Edmund let himself be tugged to his feet, pulled along with guiding hands into the bathroom connected to Stephen’s bedroom. It felt wrong, he thought, to mar such a nice place with blood and grime.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m just going to get some water.” Nancy left quietly.

Edmund caught sight of himself in the small mirror that hung above the sink. His hair was frizzy and lank, clinging to his head. His eyes were almost as red as the stains on his hands and clothes. Pale lines cut tracks through the muck on his cheeks. 

And to think, not long ago, he was happy here.

___________________

“You’re awake early.” Edmund smiled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he leaned against the bathroom door. 

Stephen caught his eye in the reflection of the mirror. It wasn’t big, but it was a little lavish, Edmund thought. A polished bronze oval frame twisted into leaves and flowers. Pretty, but no prettier than the man staring back at him. 

“Says the man who’d sleep until noon if I’d let him.” 

Edmund chuckled, scratching his bare stomach as he walked further into the room. He placed his palms on the slight curve of Stephen’s waist, laughing softly when he jumped at the cold, and slid them round to his stomach. He pressed his chest up against Stephen’s back, hooked his chin over his shoulder. Stephen leaned back into his embrace.

“Seriously though, my Lord. What’s got you up?” 

Stephen rolled his eyes at the title, much as he always did, but smiled softly nonetheless. “Just nervous, I guess. Big day tomorrow.”

Edmund hummed, pressing his lips to the skin of Stephen’s shoulder. “I’ll be right by your side the entire time.”

“It’s a battlefield, Ed. We won’t be able to keep tabs on each other so easily. What if we get separated?”

“I won’t let that happen.”

Stephen turned in Edmund’s hold, bowing his head. Edmund’s hands dropped to his hips. “What if…”

Edmund nudged a finger under his chin. “What if what, love?”

Hesitantly, Stephen met his eye. “What if one of us gets hurt? Or worse? I don’t think I could take it if I lost you.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” Edmund spoke confidently. “We have the upper hand.”

“How can you be so sure?” Stephen whispered. “Just-- If something happens to me, just know that I love you. Okay?”

“Nothing is going to happen to you.” 

Stephen only nodded, didn’t seem convinced. 

“C’mon. Come back to bed.” Edmund grinned, tugging at Stephen’s hips, slipping his fingertips beneath the waistband of his sleep pants. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Stephen grinned, a pretty blush colouring his cheeks. He let Edmund tug him back to bed.

___________________

“Edmund?” Nancy said gently, startling him out of his trance. “The bath is ready.” 

Edmund pulled his clothes off mechanically as Nancy averted her eyes. He stepped carefully into the bathtub, letting out a breath as he submerged his aching muscles in the warm water. He sat down, curling into a ball. 

Nancy knelt beside the tub with a clean rag and a bar of soap. It smelled like Stephen. 

She gently tugged his hands away from where they were wrapped around his knees and began to carefully wash the dried blood from his skin. Neither of them spoke. Edmund could only stare at the bath water as it steadily turned from clear to a muddy pink. 

When Nancy started to rub the dirt from other areas of skin, Edmund began to stare at his hands. The blood caked under his fingernails.

All of a sudden he needed it off. He needed to be clean. 

He grabbed a small scrubbing brush from a shelf beside the tub and began to feverishly rub at his nails. 

“Edmund.” Nancy’s voice barely cut through his fugue. “Edmund, stop!” She grabbed his hands, stilling them and splashing water onto the stone floor. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” She whispered, unfolding his fingers from the brush and starting to carefully clean beneath his nails. 

“Is Robin okay?” Edmund croaked, voice hoarse and quiet. 

“She won’t be for a while.” Nancy sighed. “She needs space right now.”

Edmund nodded, shutting his eyes tight with a shuddering breath. “M’sorry.”

Nancy ceased moving. “Whatever happened… it wasn’t your fault.”

Edmund hid his face in his knees and didn’t answer. 

Nancy washed his hair with Stephen’s soap. She helped him out of the bath, helped him dry off. She dressed him in Stephen’s softest shirt brushed through his hair and tied it back into a loose braid. 

She tucked him into a once shared bed with a sad smile and an almost maternal kiss on the forehead. He had never known Nancy to be maternal.

“Nancy?” He called out to her as she reached the doorway. She turned to him. “Thank you.”

Nancy just nodded, left.  And Edmund lay in a bed that was far too empty.

___________________

The bright early sunlight cast soft shadows across the room from where it cut through the curtains. 

Edmund had been awake a while, tracing over the slope of Stephen’s nose, the arch of his brow, the curve of his jaw. Admiring the soft way his eyelashes dusted the apples of his cheeks and the moles dotting his neck.

He was truly beautiful, and Edmund couldn’t get enough. 

So he tried to drink it all in. Memorise it. Because surely, once Stephen awoke it would all come crashing down. The night before had been a heat of the moment thing, Edmund didn’t expect he would be permitted to stay. 

They were both still bare, covered only by the dark green sheets. Stephen slept on his front, and the covers had slipped, pooling in the arch of his lower back. Edmund wanted to reach out, trail a finger down his spine. 

Stephen made a soft noise, shifting as he started to blink himself awake, and Edmund felt his heart clench. 

But when Stephen opened his eyes, he smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Edmund parroted. 

“You sleep okay?” Edmund nodded. “Good.” 

Stephen reached out a hand, splaying it across the centre of Edmund’s chest, stroking softly. Edmund looked at it in surprise.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t you want me to leave?”

“What? No?” Stephen laughed. Then his face dropped. “U-Unless you want to. I won't stop you.”

“I don’t want to go.”

Stephen’s face softened. “Then don’t”

“I had fun last night.”

“Me too.” Stephen inched closer. “We should do that again.”

“You think?”

“Mhmm.” Stephen pushed himself up on his elbows, leaning over Edmund. “I think we should do it all the time.” 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

Stephen’s smile was brighter than the brightest star. He laughed softly and pressed his lips to Edmund’s.

___________________

Edmund was just starting to doze when he heard the door creak open. Light footsteps tapped against the floor and then the other side of the bed was dipping with weight.

He squinted his eyes to make out the figure. Robin. 

She curled close but didn’t say anything. It was an unspoken agreement that they both needed this. Needed each other.

Their hands met in the middle of the bed, pinkies interlocking. They fell asleep to the sounds of each others’ breathing and both wishing they were sharing the bed with someone else.

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

so yeah,,, this is gonna be longer than i thought lmao

thank you to @gothbat99 for the motivation, you're the mvp fr

hope you all liked this one!

[maaichen]

A small love letter for @aspaceformbf

[disclaimer: This letter was written in German and translated in google, only to be edited into a less weird version. I do not take responsibility for deaths caused by cringe or laughter. In addition, by reading this letter, you confirm that your Magus will not follow me to hell should one of these happen to you. Amen.]

Soooo… ehem.

First things first - Do you want to know how I came across your blog and your twitter and stuck to them? It wasn't the sheer volume of great edits (okay, those too) or all the head canons. Or your general activity. It was a wonderful mix thrown into all these posts and your personal version of this man, which breathed a little more life into him. It made him more tangible, gave him something more to see on or in him. And your Magus? A great guy. Yes, he is somewhat peculiar in his way, but DAMN if he isn't so fucking adorable! Also, if you don't laugh at the thought of an over 6'5 tall man with fiery red hair doing some kind of wild mating dance in front of his beloved, then what? (BTW, I'm waiting for a head canon to be written where you buy him a new wig at his trusted wig shop.)

What is also wonderful about you and your work here: you leave him in a great, balanced state.

Many people paint him as violent, insane, or a complete '100 shades of gray'-pervert. He's also not the soft baby we've all come to know and love on Tumblr, BUT he comes very close. Your Magus or your head canons gave him some well-sorted levels in the character itself, which I think is perfect. Magus would give anything to live a domestic life with you. Mundane things like holding you in your arms, shopping with you, or eating your both home-cooked meals at the same table. But he would also, out of sheer jealousy and hopeless obsession with you, try to get those around you away from you if they get in yours and his way to eternal happiness. The variety is there and that is what I love about it!

I… used to read a book I can't remember the title of, but it was something similar. It was a male being that was once human. Maybe a ghost? He met the woman of his dreams, but she couldn't see him. He almost went insane and in despair that he couldn't even touch her or her smile was meant for him but some other guy, so he decided to break into his former work lab and… Unfortunately, I don't remember the rest. But goodness gracious, what I would give for a story like that just to be able to read it again! In any case. Magus has the potential to be used for similar interesting/paranormal stories, in my opinion!

I have to mention again how great I think the sprite edits are. They kinda lure you to them as a fan, because you wouldn't get those in the game itself, but they're close enough to be the real deal? Does that make sense? And before I get away from the sprite edits (or I just forget, my brain only works on three gray cells atm, and they usually only play UNO when I'm down with a cold), from where do you get these great ideas for his outfits? AND may I also mention how AMAZING it is that you dress him in those?! I always imagine that before that, he only wore his generally everyday clothes we all know. BUT because of YOU, he got experimental with his styles. And I mean… Hello? A daring, see through top? Hot cropped outfits, A happy trail?? Ugh, kill me, that shit is hot…

Heh, imagine - Your love and attention alone was enough for him to try it out for you (or secretly for himself, who knows) only then to wear it with pride. Just for your reactions, compliments and because he finds himself more attractive and desirable for you in those.

Also, an interesting point about your blog is that you continue to present him as an entity from another world. "I love this man, and he loves me, even though we exist in completely different realities. We found each other under the strangest of circumstances and can no longer live without each other" I mean… SUPER romantic??? You can also spin it into interesting stories. "He joins you in games. You have absolutely no idea how, and he just playfully jumps and ducks around in front of you in game, if you should ask him." I bet you already have that somewhere similar in your sea of ​​ideas.

Damn, it's fun to flip through this work of yours and inspire myself for ideas in the form of pictures, posts, simple answers or entire chapters in Word pad.

What I'm trying to say with the text wall here is… Thanks. A very simple, thank you. Because of people like you letting your ideas and creativity flow freely AND sharing them with the world, people like me can get joy, ideas and general energy for the pent-up creativity to participate in the fandom. We don't know each other, but who cares. I think you're great and admire your work here. I'm your fan, that's it.

In poorly translated love, Maaichen.

[aurorasilverthorne]

Vampires Don't Fall In Love: Chapter #2

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The Bailey School Kids series and its characters belong to Debbie Dadey and Marcia Jones.

Note: Mr. Hombre Lobo belongs to me. If you use him in fanfiction or fanart, please remember to give me credit as his creator. Thank you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did you hear they hired a new music teacher?” Melody asked. “He starts today!”

“So?” Eddie demanded. “He’s just another teacher.”

“I heard he’s from South America,” Liza said.

“That’s all we need,” Eddie muttered, slumping in his chair. “Another crazy teacher with a dumb accent.”

“I heard he used to be a criminal and had to leave his country,” Howie chimed in.

They all grew quiet when their teacher, Mrs. Jeepers, entered the room. All the kids thought she was a vampire because her eyes flashed when she was unhappy and she wore a green brooch. It had to be magic since it glowed when she touched it and it seemed to be able to make naughty students sit down and behave.

She wore a white dress with scarlet polka dots under a dark green vest with black boots. Her curly sunset red hair was tied back with a black silk ribbon.

She wrote some sentences on the blackboard then turned to address the class.

“Good morning children. Today we will focus on our writing skills. I want you all to rewrite each one of these sentences using the proper punctuation and spelling.”

Liza raised her hand.

Mrs. Jeepers gave her an odd little half smile. “Yes, Liza? You have a question?”

“Mrs. Jeepers, when are we going to get to meet the new music teacher?”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

Mrs. Jeepers’ smile faded.

She touched her brooch. Everyone sat straight up in their chairs. “I...I was not informed we would have a new teacher.”

“We found out this morning,” Melody told her. “Some kids were talking about it on their way to school.”

Their teacher had a thick Romanian accent when she spoke. “I am sure we will meet this new teacher soon enough. Let’s just focus on the task at hand, shall we?”

Ever since the spit ball incident a month earlier, Eddie had done his best to keep a low profile. He’d made the mistake of angering Mrs. Jeepers once. He wasn't willing to do it again. Their teacher wasn't a normal woman.

He still hadn’t told the others what he’d seen when the third grade teacher pulled him out into the hall to discuss his bad behavior. Nor would he. The flash of sharp, long eye teeth along with the warning that'd followed after still rang in his ears.

Learn to behave, băiat, or you will find out the hard way what befalls naughty children who dare meddle in other people's affairs.

Eddie shivered.

Mrs. Jeepers saw him and walked over to his desk. “Eddie, are you feeling alright? You don’t look well.”

She reached out her hand to feel his forehead.

Eddie recoiled. “I’m fine, Mrs. Jeepers. Thanks for asking.”

Mrs. Jeepers frowned. She didn’t get the chance to say anything about his reaction.

The clock read 10:30am. “It is time for music class everyone. Please line up and I will walk you over to the auditorium.”

Eddie joined his friends in line as they headed out into the hall.

The auditorium was a large, dark room filled with empty seats. Old risers sat on the brightly lit stage. A tall man stood atop a wooden podium. He had bronze skin and amber eyes. The top portion of his brown-black hair was pulled into a loose ponytail by a thin band. The rest fell in waves to his upper back. He wore a grey suit with brown leather shoes.

Mrs. Jeepers hesitated in the open doorway and touched her brooch. Neither Melody or Eddie seemed to notice. They just kept on walking. Liza and Howie stopped to stare at their teacher who had never acted that way before.

“Mrs. Jeepers looks nervous,” Liza whispered.

“It must have something to do with him,” Howie replied, pointing to the new music teacher.

The man turned toward them and smiled revealing his own lengthy, sharp eye teeth. He had sideburns connected to his chinstrap beard and an extended soul patch in the shape of a sleek inverted droplet. A well trimmed petite handlebar mustache with the tips curled rested above his upper lip. He also had a vertical scar over his left eye.

“Welcome to my music class. My name's Mr. Lobo and I will be your teacher this year. Please find your seats so we may begin.”

Mrs. Jeepers sat down in one of the auditorium chairs to watch the new teacher like a hawk. This surprised all the kids as she didn't usually stay with them when they attended the art or music classes. She would return to the classroom until it was time to retrieve them. Not today.

Mr. Lobo didn’t seem phased by her presence at all. He began to show them the proper posture and breathing exercises. He taught them to read music and played different instruments for them. They had to learn about melody, rhythm and pitch.

Mr. Lobo made them keep time with the music.

He knew how to have fun with it. Even Eddie liked him.

None of the kids wanted music to end. Mrs. Jeepers wasn’t too happy. She sat with her arms crossed the whole time. She didn't speak. She just stared at Mr. Lobo as if she'd seen a ghost or something.

Mr. Lobo put his conducting sticks away and guided students over to the stage stairs.

“Class is over for the day. We will pick up where we left off tomorrow. Do not forget that we will be having band rehearsals on mondays and wednesdays and choir rehearsals on tuesdays and thursdays. Have a good afternoon everyone! Eddie, remember to get your permission slip signed. I do not want to have to fail any of my students for lack of participation in such an easy subject. It would be embarrassing for both of us.”

"Yes, Mr. Lobo!"

"Bueno niño!"

His accent was different from Mrs. Jeepers. When Howie stopped to ask him about it he chuckled. “I’m from Colombia. My accent may seem strange to you, but where I grew up, it’s quite normal.”

“Well, I think your voice is nice,” Melody said.

Mr. Lobo smiled showing them his sharp eye teeth. “Muchos gracias, señorita. I’m glad you like it.”

Mrs. Jeepers put a hand on Liza’s shoulder and the other on Howie’s while she looked back and forth in between Melody and Eddie. “It is time to return to our classroom. You can speak to Mr. Lobo again some other time.”

The children nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Jeepers.”

Mrs. Jeepers waited patiently for her students to line up at the door before she turned back to Mr. Lobo.

She was petite, barely five feet tall. Mr. Lobo towered over Mrs. Jeepers at six feet. No one could hear what she was saying. She always spoke softly and never raised her voice.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Melody asked.

Eddie shrugged. “Boring teacher stuff?”

“Mrs. Jeepers looks upset,” Howie noted.

“I don’t think she and Mr. Lobo like each other,” Liza told them.

Eddie snorted. “Figures. He’s tons of fun and she’s no fun at all.”

Melody elbowed him in the ribs. “This is serious. Mrs. Jeepers gets along with every other teacher at school. There has to be something wrong with Mr. Lobo for her to not like him.”

“Maybe he’s a werewolf,” Eddie joked. “Vampires and werewolves fight like cats and dogs.”

“In movies and books," Howie countered. "We don’t know how they’d act toward each other in real life."

“That's because they don’t exist,” Liza reminded them.

"We will speak about this later," Mrs. Jeepers said loud enough for everyone to hear.

Mr. Lobo scowled at her. "I will not argue about this. We shan't speak of it ever again. The only matters you and I need ever discuss are those pertaining to the welfare of our students."

Mrs. Jeepers' eyes widened and she reached towards her brooch. The students all held their breath.

Mr. Lobo caught her wrist before she could touch the green jewel. He pointed at it. "Don't bother. We both know that does not work on me."

He released her wrist and went inside his office closing the door behind him. Mrs. Jeepers just stood there completely taken aback.

None of the kids dared say a word, but Melody and Liza swore they caught a glimpse of tears in their teacher's eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[grimmswan]

A Cocktail called The Devil's Carnival

Lucifer TV Show

It's Girl's night out and they've consumed a very sugary drink. Lots of mentions of sexy times happen.

A Cocktail called The Devil’s Carnival

“Morningstar, what are you doing?” Dan asked the club owner with obvious confusion.

“Trying to keep Miss Lopez from hurting herself.” Lucifer retorted. Hoisting the little scientist higher as she kicked at the air. “Whatever she drank has made her believe she’s a leviathan.”

Chloe, who had drunk the same new cocktail as Ella, actually giggled and said, "My boyfriend is huge!"

Lucifer had to stop the two women from sliding down the banister.

Normally, he would have seen no problem with it, but on that night both women wore dresses and no stockings, since they each had open toed shoes. And that meant that sliding down the railing of the massive staircase would have become very uncomfortable. He didn’t want to risk either woman injuring herself.

“Exactly what did you ladies drink?” Even with his vast knowledge of cocktails, Lucifer could now recall one that would turn the consumer into a hyperactive toddler.

“Remember when you told the bartenders they were allowed to experiment and come up with some new craft signature cocktails for Lux?” Mazikeen reminded the club owner. “Well, somebody invented what they’re calling the Devil’s carnival. Whipped cream vodka, apple vodka, a large can of a cherry flavored energy drink, all poured over a tall glass filled with cotton candy and red taffy. It’s being served with a bowl of kettle corn.”

"That bloody cocktail has enough sugar in it to give an angel cavities." he looked up. "Oh bloody hell, Amenadiel!"

Everyone else laughed. The king of hell's brother was picking up a full glass while setting down an empty one.

"How many of those have you had?" Lucifer asked with irritation. 

Amenadiel shrugged, " They're yummy. "

Lucifer looked up. "Is this my punishment for what I did with your miracle last night? You know she enjoyed every bit of it."

"Oh, that was fun!" Chloe said excitedly. "We should definitely do that again."

Lucifer's eyes turned from annoyed to affectionate as they moved to Chloe. 

"Anything you desire, my love." He promised.

"What did he do?" Ella asked, very intrigued.

"He tied me to the bed, put peppermint oil on my nipples to make them hard and keep a cold sensation on them while he ran his tongue from my foot all of the way up to my pussy, licked my clit until I had an orgasm, then ran his tongue down my other leg, coming back up over a different area but still licking me and giving me an orgasm. I think he repeated it six times. Lucifer really likes my legs." Chloe announced.

"I love everything about you, my detective." Lucifer informed her. "But I will admit your legs are truly divine."

"Your hands always rub up and down my legs when we have sex." Chloe turned to Ella and added. "He always volunteers to give me a foot massage and always ends up massaging my whole legs."

"Well you do have nice legs." Ella observed.

"She has exquisite legs." Lucifer corrected.

Chloe smiled up at him with eyes full of love and adoration. “It’s a lot of fun wrapping them around you. It nice to dig my heels into your ass when you fuck my pussy.”

Lucifer laughed loudly as Dan nearly choked to death on his drink.

It seemed removing the verbal filter could be added to the new cocktail’s list of side effects.

“With how much sugar this thing has. The hangover is going to be murder tomorrow.” Maze pointed out. “I’ve promised Eve I would do all kinds of stuff to her, if she would drink a couple glasses of water.”

“Chloe will choke if I give her an orgasm while she’s drinking.” Lucifer said with his eyes furrowed. He would want to risk Chloe injuring herself while he was trying to get her to take care of herself.

“That’s why you promise to lick her clit after she drinks a glass of water.” Maze said, as if it were the most obvious way of doing things. “And then you get her to drink another glass after.”

Lucifer looked at his brother. “Amenadiel, could you drive Miss Lopez to her boyfriend and explain the situation to him? That is, if your angel abilities haven’t been hindered by all of the sugar you’ve consumed.”

“I’m fine, Lucy” Amenadiel rolled his eyes. “I’ll get Ella to her boyfriend. You go take care of your miracle.”

Lucifer did just that.

As the rest of the group dispersed, Dan looked at Charlotte, “I’m starting to worry about Girl’s Night Out. You all might start needing to have a chaperone.”

Charlotte patted her boyfriend’s shoulder. “Don’t be jealous baby that us girl’s have more fun than you boys.”

While he tried to get a glass of water down her, Dan made a note to ask Charlotte if she was having fun the next morning while she was recovering from her hangover.

[formagdalene]

In the next life time, when a cardiologist falls in love again with a resident.

Every rain drop on the doorstep of his house was as loud as the three quick knocks I just did on the door. My heart beat was just as loud. It felt like my chest was about to burst. My hair was slicked back, the curls I painstakingly did for three hours earlier was gone. My mascara was running down my cheeks but it had done that even before I ran under the rain. 

I wasn't thinking. I knew this was not a good choice. Probably. But it was the choice I made. 

Not even 10 seconds passed by. I heard footsteps and then someone was twisting the door knob from the inside. 

The door opens to him standing on the hallway. He was still wearing his shoes, his hirt and slacks. He stands there with an expression I have never seen before. He looks like he's seeing a ghost. His eyes were red-rimmed, bleak and bloodshot. Maybe it was from everything he did that day. Maybe it was the endless patients lining up to his clinic. Maybe it was the 4th wedding or wake of the month he attended. Maybe it was the endless calls from the emergency room or the wards. 

But seeing him standing there in the middle of his spacious house, with the chandeliers, the arched hallways and the empty rooms, the silence rendering even the rain as loud as it can be-- Watching him standing there, I thought he never looked so small--and so… alone. 

He spoke first. He whispered my name, his voice full of wonder and disbelief. Then I was wrapped in so much warmth, his arms surrounded me. His smell overwhelming, the sound of his crying even more surprising. 

I don't know how long we stood there. My clothes were dripping on his carpet, his clothes. The sound of his cries breaking the silence of his house. My arms were wrapped around his waist and I stood there silently, just waiting. 

I've decided then and there, that that was where I belonged. I didn't belong in the local Italian restaurant wearing a black dress and heels--all made up and laughing over some joke a charming Engineer made. He was tall, handsome and more importantly--was crazy over me. He made time for me. He called everyday. He opened the door of his car for me. He was serious with me and he made it clear from the first hour. 

And yet as the hours wore on, as I half listened to stories of his childhood and college days, I looked up at the sky and saw it darkening. I wondered how he was doing--if he was somewhere where the rain won't bother him. I wondered if he was thinking about me in the middle of the 6th wake he attended this year in the same way I was thinking of him in the middle of a date with a nice guy. 

'Wait…are you crying?'

'What? Oh… oh no. No I'm not' I laughed, 'I'm sorry I don't know what came over me.'

'Am I boring you with my stories?'

'No. It's not that.'

I remembered I had a choice. Someone had told me before. Love is a choice. I've always made crazy decisions when it comes to love. I made career decisions from love. I can move to a different country for a boyfriend, even. What's so crazy about loving the most kind-hearted and genuine man I've ever known? 

But I deserved better. 

I deserved a man who will make time for me. And I looked right at the man I was on a date with. I deserved that kind of man. Funny, handsome, uncomplicated--

I stood up and apologized to that same man. I walked to my car and sat for an hour inside with my thoughts. I tried to make a pros and cons list for the decision I was about to make. But I couldn't bare to even begin it. Everything inside me was screaming to just go run to him. No matter how much reservations I have, how much cons I can think of--all I can see, all I remember is a kind-hearted man who is alone in the world. Didn't he also deserve to have someone? Did it have to be me? Probably, not necessarily.

But I wanted it to be me. 

Because I fell head over heels in love with his soul. The charms, the jokes, the handsome faces they all fade away. He can be of any age at that point in time, he can come bearing different faces and his soul will remain the same. Sometimes it felt like--it felt like I was in love with an angel sent from above. 

"I’m sorry." He finally spoke, still hugging me. I waited. "You're right. You do deserve better."

Then he breaks us apart so he can lift my face and look at me. "But for once in my life, I want to be selfish. I want you in my life. I need you but I don't love you because I need you. I need you because I love you."

I smiled warmly at him with tears brimming me again in my eyes. "You are the best decision I've ever made."

He closes the door behind us. His cellphone rings down the hallway but he barely glances back, his eyes just on me. The rain is muffled. 

And all I hear is his voice, his breathing, all I feel is his warmth. 

[stellarstarcelios]

Five Nights at Freddy's AU | FNaF 1: Child's Play - Chapter 1

Heeeeyyy, guys! Since I'm doing more writing, I figured I should post some of my other stories here! Since you guys seemed pretty interested in my Five Nights at Freddy's AU, here's the first chapter of it! I'm 4 chapter in on AO3, but hey, I'll post it here too!

Enjoy! :)

Pizza divider I used can be found here!

The night was quiet as a red pickup truck drove along a dark road, the street lamps and headlights providing the only light in the dead of night. Most of everyone else was asleep at this point, safe in their beds and off in dreamland. But out on the roads to a city street, a red pickup truck made its way down into the town. The driver looked anything but happy as he sighed in aggravation. 

The truck drove down the road, moving down a few turns, before slowing as it approached a large parking lot, surrounding a large white building. The parking lot was faintly lit from the glow of several lights, with only one other car parked between two of the white lines. The driver of the red pickup picked a spot close to the entrance of the building, stopping his vehicle and shutting it off. He then opened the door and stepped out. The man was in the shorter range for a male, with short brown hair and deep blue eyes shining from his fair complexion. He wore a french blue cap with a black brim, a french blue shirt with buttons, a black tie, blue denim jeans and black shoes. His cap read with the words, “Night Watch,” and his nametag sat on his chest. It read, “Mike.” 

Mike looked up at the unlit sign above the building’s front doors, seeing four robotic animals depicted on it. A brown bear, a purple rabbit, a yellow chicken, and a red fox. He squinted and let out a small, “tch.” He didn’t care how happy and innocent they tried to make these stupid robots look, he knew what they were really like.

Mike wouldn’t admit what happened at his job to anyone but his girlfriend. It’s not like anyone really believed him anyways. He had tried telling people, tried telling his friends about what happened to him at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. No one would believe Mike was terrorized every night by animatronic animals with minds of their own. The very first night came as a surprise to him. After Mike landed the job, he was excited to finally have something that would pay him well enough to get by with his girlfriend, Jennifer.

But he should’ve known what he had gotten himself into.

Mike remembered that first message. It sounded unreal; the Bite of ‘87, the animatronics walking around, and the idea that they seemed to have minds of their own. Mike figured this would be a piece of cake and ignored the warnings.

Mike should have known better.

It had been a whole year already of shutting doors, peeking out the windows, conserving power, listening for their noises, and too many near death encounters with these insane piles of scrap metal. But it’s not like Mike could afford any other job. He did drop out of high school, after all.

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the front doors opening, and the night guard turned his gaze to the man now walking out. He was tall, with short tannish hair, brown eyes, and light skin. He wore a crisp white dress shirt with nice gray slacks and black dress shoes. He began to make his way down the small sidewalk.

Mike sighed and put his hands into his pockets. He made his way to the sidewalk and headed for the doors. 

The man could hear footsteps and opened his eyes, seeing a shorter young man and smiling. “Heya, Michael! How are you doing tonight?”

Mike sighed and frowned. “Hello, Mr. Jonston. It’s… been a day, sir. And please, call me Mike.”

Mr. Jonston was within a foot or two of Mike and he smiled at the younger man. Mike knew his boss was a very cheery guy who didn’t seem to have a care in the world. Mike had even tried to explain his plight to his boss, but Mr. Jonston seemed to just shrug it off as if nothing was wrong. As a result, the night guard had come to despise his boss, but knew he couldn’t just quit now. He needed this job, he really did.

Snapping his head from his thoughts, Mike heard his boss ask him something.

“Are you ready for another night?”

Mike shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be, boss.”

Mr. Jonston reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys, handing them to the younger man. The manager chuckled. “You’ll take good care of the place, like you usually do, right?”

Mike frowned again. “I’ll do my best sir.”

A hard slap was given to Mike’s back, making him almost fall over. 

“Alrighty, then! See you tomorrow, Michael!” And with that, Mr. Jonston walked away, not a care on his mind.

Mike watched him for a few moments, before huffing and muttering, “It’s Mike,” under his breath. He then walked into the building, turning to lock the doors behind him. He slowly turned to face the inside of the building.

The black and white checkered floor led into the large party room, with tables clothed in white and decorated with party hats spaced out in it. A smaller strage with a purple curtain sat to one side of the room. A couple of other doors led into the kitchen, but the stage on the center of the far wall demanded his attention.

There they were, standing on the stage. A brown bear with a black top hat and bowtie. A purple rabbit with a red bowtie holding a red guitar. A yellow chicken with a bib holding a cupcake on a plate. They all stared straight ahead with their blue, red, and purple eyes, not seeming to see Mike as his eyes met theirs.

Mike sucked in a breath before turning away. “Don’t look at ‘em, Mike, just head to your office. Just ignore them for now.” He began a hurried walk towards the office in the back end, not even noticing the sinister smiles forming beneath the robotic eyes following his every move.

*****

Footsteps moved from within the west hallway and into the security office. Mike took a look around at all the drawings on the walls and the screens on the desk as he made his way inside. He took his tablet from the desk and moved to sit down in his chair, powering on the device as he sat. His brows furrowed as the tablet powered on. 100 percent power and the clock was about to strike midnight. 

Mike sighed softly. “Here we go again,” he muttered as the clock changed to twelve.

The first ten or fifteen minutes weren’t anything scary. Everything was quiet, as Mike wished it could be the whole time. He flipped through the cameras showing the dining rooms, the halls, and the bathroom entrances. There was nothing to see, and he didn’t even hear any noises from the kitchen. 

“Why won’t they fix that stupid kitchen camera,” Mike asked under his breath. He changed his camera to Pirate’s Cove, seeing the purple curtain with its little starry designs blocking his view of the small stage. Looks like Foxy hadn’t decided to show his face yet, which was good since he was pretty quick once he started running down the hall.

Mike adjusted his sitting position and tapped on the camera for the stage. Bonnie and Chica stood by Freddy’s sides with their usual grins on their faces. Bonnie held her guitar and Chica, her cupcake. Luckily, they didn’t seem to be active yet.

The security guard let out a small sigh. “Well, maybe they’re not gonna bother me for a bit more.” Mike rolled his eyes after he said this. “But, that would be weird of them not to do that. They’ve got to--”

“Mike.”

Mike’s blood ran cold as a soft voice called his name. He looked down at the tablet screen to see nothing had changed on it. Bonnie, Freddy, and Chica still stood in their places. Mike felt a bead of sweat roll down his face. He had heard that voice before and he knew it well. He watched Bonnie for a moment, squinting as he did so. “What…”

And that was when it happened.

Bonnie’s eyes moved towards the camera and a wicked grin crossed her face.

Mike’s own blue eyes went wide and he watched in horror as Bonnie set down her guitar. “Shit! She’s already moving?!”

Bonnie stepped down from the stage and Mike quickly ran to the hallway. He could hear her dreadful steps coming from the room furthest from him. The night guard found himself quickly pulling back into the room and grabbing his tablet from the chair. He couldn’t see Bonnie with Freddy or Chica and he quickly flipped to the dining room camera. She was now walking past the tables and towards the hall. 

“No, no, no!” Mike ran to the hall again and could hear those steps getting louder. He moved to look down the other hall, but it was quiet. He stepped back, and that was when the guard heard it.

“Michael…”

Mike gulped. He didn’t want to look down to see if that was who he thought it was, but he knew he had to. Mike looked down to see Chica was now looking into the camera. “What the hell?! You too?!”

Chica stepped down and he could see her move from the camera’s view. “Damn it, Chica, why now?!” Mike yelled as he flipped the camera again. He could see Bonnie was now passing Pirate’s Cove and his breaths quickened. “Shoot!”

The security guard backed up until he fell into his chair. He nearly fell onto his back in the process and he found himself trembling violently. Mike tried to calm his breathing and quivering body, but with those dreadful steps coming ever since closer, he just couldn’t steady himself. “Okay, okay, Mike,” the guard spoke to himself. “You can do this, you’ve been dealing with this for months now… you can–”

A sudden loud thump came from the hallway to his left and Mike jumped out of his chair. “What the hell?!” He moved to the entrance, but before he could peek out, a dark voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Mike.”

Mike froze. Oh, dear God, he knew that voice anywhere.

Mike moved ever so closer, and slowly reached out to push the button for the light–

Only to find himself staring directly into red eyes.

“Boo.”

“AAAAAAHHHHHHAAHHH!” The security guard screeched out in shock and stumbled back, grabbing onto his desk to keep himself from falling over.

Bonnie let a wicked grin cross her face and she reached a hand out towards the human.

“NOOOOOO!” Mike practically flew up and slammed into the button for the door. Bonnie’s face turned to surprise as the metal door flew down to the floor, blocking her way inside. Mike panted softly from the adrenaline in his veins still flowing strong. His eyes moved to the window when a purple face appeared in the lights outside the door.

“Aww, Mike,” came the rabbit’s voice. “Can’t I come in? Please? I just want to play.”

Mike quickly shook his head in denial. “SCREW OFF, BONNIE! You’re not getting in here! Not tonight!”

Bonnie seemed a bit surprised from his words, but just huffed and moved out of the view of the window. Her footsteps echoed down the hall until they couldn’t be heard.

Mike watched the window with furrowed brows for a moment, before moving and pushing the buttons for the light and door. He stuck his head around the corner to make sure she was gone, and sure enough, Bonnie was out of sight. “...Damn, that was close.”

Another set of footsteps came from behind Mike, and his blood ran cold.

That was Chica, wasn’t it?

[alion-sal]

Dear bloody past.

Warning ⚠: short mention of blood, violence, gore, swearing and weapons.

If you are sensitive to any of this, please do not read.

Type: détective, fantastic.

Synopsis: Julie is a human girl who can see ghost under some circumstances. She assembled a group of people in a city where authorities don't have any power. She will try to remember, but what does she want to remember.

Komi is a swan and duck hybrid, yellow wings of swan and white duck tail with a nasty burn on half of his face. He is a police officer student who is send in internship. He come from a good city named Lordnew and will have to get used to the poor environment.

They will meet each other, and have to understand their point of view.

Yet, something moves in the shadows.

Komi looked at the photo in his hands, before gazing back at the structure in front of him. Comparing it with the picture, he could tell how time affected it. The construction was supposed to be a manor, but half of it had collapsed. Vines climbed the wall, infiltrating the black bricks. The roof missed som parts. The windows of the third floors were missing. Yet he knew it was here.

He knocked on the door. Hearing footsteps approaching, he took a step back. A red haired man with sunglasses opened. The man had old style clothes on him.

"Welcome to N.A.C.S or something like that, I suppose you are the new one ?"

"Yes, I am Komi Scott."

He extended his hand, but the man sipped on his drink, that appeared out of nowhere,ignoring it.

'Rude man' was thinking Komi. The man goes back in the manor. He followed him inside, looking around him. The rooms had red walls decaying and wooden floor. Pictures of ladies and lord were suspended on the walls. The furniture were old, dust covering them.

Finally, they stopped in a huge room who looked like one of those business desk room with computers. People stopped working when they stepped in the room, looking at them.

"Welcome, I suppose." Said the red haired man, giving him a badge, that appeared out of nowhere too.

"This is the squad. Only the boss is out, doing some human things is suppose. You should present yourself in front of everybody. I hope you don't have social anxiety or things like that."

Komi answered with no before walking at the center of the room.

"Hello, my name Komi Scott, I am a hybrid swan and duck. I am twenty years old and I am here for my final stage of one year."

Everyone in the room stand up and walked to him. The first to arrive was a little girl with cotton candy hair and grey eyes. She had two little withe horns popping out of her head. She wore a simple pink dress with a green jacket. She opened her mouth and...

"Hello, lowly one, I am the mighty dragon, Sandra. I am the older of this crew and the most knowledgeable one too."

"Stop boosting your ego Sandra." Said a woman who looked a lot like the first man except the fact that she didn't have sunglasses. Her short red hair where shoulder length. He could see her red eyes shining. She wore black warm clothes.

"I'm Meredith Merra. I am a vampire. The man that opened the door is my older brother, Joseph, he is a vampire too." She said, pointing at the redhead. Said man shrugged, looking down, his arms crossed on his chest.

Komi nodded his head, showing that he understood. Two other persons come in front of him.

"Hello kid, I am Kristof Sendrez, a werewolf. I am thirty three years old. I came from a small town on the border of Marequa." The one who presented himself was a blue haired man with a three day beard. He looked gentle and kind. He had warm brown eyes. He was tall, at least 6,9 feet.

The last one was a green cyclops. Their only eye was dark green. They had short purple hair fading to bright pink, with a flash blue wick. They had a red beanie. They were dressed with colored clothes.

"My name is Mendos foret, I am a twenty seven." That's all they said before hiding behind Kristof.

"Yay, now you know all of us. Good. Your desk is on the right of Kristof." Said Joseph. He seemed displeased. Komi didn't know why.

He walked to his desk, sitting on his chair. He looked at the stuff on it. His gaze locked on a sign saying 'Edward Hens', with dust on it. Before he could ask, a green hand took it.

"The last one that was on this desk....dead." Is all they said.

"Alright."

One or two hours passed. He worked on some documents about public park or intruder. Suddenly, a murder case and picture of a body appeared. The head was cut from the corpse, packed in paper like a gift with a red rubon. The deceased person was opened, organs out. His blood was utilized like ink to write some illegible words. A gun was posed in his hand.

Komi was disgusted how could a living beings do this another one ? He has never see a body this mutilated after the accident.

Joseph having seen his troubled expression, come by.

"Damn, 'though they erased it from the demand. This case is resolved."

"This is so... brutal."

"'Know, but here it's normal. That's also the case that made your desk free."

Komi looked at him. Hi sunglasses were on his head, making his red eyes apparent.

"How could you talk about your partner like that ?!"

"HEY ! Bastard, you don't even know our relationship. If you knew at least a bit of this history, you would shut up. Trust me, it was even more brutal before..."

"Maybe, bit still-"

Before they could argue any longer, the door opened again. A girl with blond hair in a ponytail walked in. She had plastic bags in her hands. It smelled like food. She calmly dropped the bags on the floor. Looking at the at the two of them, she said.

"What the hell is happening here ?"

Angry golden eyes locked in icy and tired blue one.

"Nothing boss, just the newbie seeing his first death case. Can't understand how I'm talking about my ex co-workers or is just too dumb."

"HEY, I'm not dumb !"

"Alright, shut the fuck up, the two of you." She added, seeing the redhead opening his mouth.

"I'm not in the mood for your bad bitching or whatever you call it."

"What...?" Joseph harbored a fake hurted face.

"Anyway, Komi, I think. I'm gonna present myself, but only once. I am Julie Foret. I am a twenty six year old human and the creator of this squad and so your boss. You will have to learn the fucking laws of this LoVeLy town... That was sarcasm. Now, I am gonna get myself a cup of coffee."

She left the room. Sandra approached Komi.

"Do not worry about them, boss is always like that and Josep, it is only because it is the beginning. He just need time for his mourning. The old one on your desk was close to him, even if he won't say it."

"Oh...I see."

Komi returned on his computer, working yet still shaken by the recent events. At the end of the day, a pâle hand got on his shoulder. He jumped, frightened.

"Whoa, I'm sorry if I have frightened you."

It was Meredith, her white skin was shining at the light of candle.

"I have to show you your room."

"Ah.. what ? I can't come back home ?"

"No, no, no. It's just if you work late or if you are tired."

"Ah, alright."

She conducted him through stairs end corridor, stopping in front of a white door with the number eight on it.

Opening the door, entered in a old fashioned bedroom. The bedroom was white and green. The windows view was over a garden, in the back of the house.

"It's beautiful ! And it's so huge. I wish I had the same bedroom at my apartment."

"I know, I know. Had the same reaction when I first entered mine." She then pointed at a grey door.

"My room is this one, if you need anything. Kristof is number two, Mendos is number three and Joseph is five. The room one is boss chamber but she is never here, she always sleep on her desk."

"Alright."

"I guess, now I shall guide you to the exit."

They come back at the entrance. Before he could move, Meredith said one thing.

"Also, Joseph asked to told you that you smell like garlic, gun powder and idiocy."

"What...?" Was all komi could say before she close the door.

He got in his car, driving home. He was some miles from his house when finally he understood.

"THAT BASTARD !"

[It was more like presentation than anything, was thinking that a little of action could help. If anything bother you, tell me and I will fix it. Hope you had a good time reading it. Good night/day.]

[sardonicnihilism]

Missing

By Me

Chapter 5

"Jerry, tell me what you think of these," Sarah asked the forensic IT specialist, Jeremy Cosgrove.

Jeremy was a tall, lanky man in his mid thirties. He had shoulder length, curly, blonde hair, green eyes, and a goatee. He wore wire rimmed glasses and usually a blue and white stripped, button up, short sleeve shirt (with pocket protector), blue jeans so tight that Sarah often wondered what he had going on down south because there was no way you could get any man bits in those things, and black dress shoes. He spoke in a nasally whine that always made him sound like he was in some low-level pain.

Jerry walked over to Sarah's desk and took the letters from her. He began to look them over, studying each one in minute detail.

"Well? Do those sound like they were written by a fourteen year old girl to you?" Sarah asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

"A thirty year old pretending to be a fourteen year old maybe," Jerry answered with a shrug.

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly." Sarah pointed to one of the letters in his hand. "'Let's do lots of fun mother and daughter activities together forever and ever. Love your daughter Lucia.' What kid talks like that? It's not just weird but creepy. And look, her name is misspelled and crossed out. Show me a fourteen year old that still misspells their name."

Jerry handed the letters back to Sarah. "And the parents never noticed?" he asked in somewhat disbelief.

"No," Sarah replied, shaking her head.

"Are they retarded?" he asked bluntly.

Sarah winced. "Ouch! Uh, no, that's not an ok word to use anymore. Please don't say it again in my presence."

"Sorry," he said, not actually sounding contrite, but just saying it to move the conversation along.

"And no, they're not. The father is out of the picture due to divorce, and the mother is overworked," Sarah said with a disappointed sighed.

"Ok, but she still couldn't tell those letters sounded off?" The artificialness of the letters was so obvious that he didn't care how overworked the mother was; no one should have missed those red flags.

Sarah shrugged. "Honestly? - probably because she didn't want to. This woman has been working her ass off for years: going to school while working and taking care of a family, clocking in massive overtime, raising a child on her own after getting divorced, probably worrying that Child Services would step in and take her kid away, because they just love snatching up brown and black kids from their families; it's a lot to deal with. Her daughter being away was probably the first semi-break she's had in years, decades maybe."

"But still? That's pretty obvious," Jerry protested.

"Tell me, what are the labor conditions at the factory that made your shirt like? Your phone? How many homeless people did you pass on the way in here? People see what they want to see and ignore anything that might adversely affect their health or wealth," Sarah said, growing tired of Jerry's sanctimonious disbelief.

"Point taken. Still, you think she could have asked for help," he replied, not ready to give up the fight just yet.

"You never grew up poor, did you? In poor communities, you learn not to ask for help. You shoulder everything because everyone around you is in the same boat. And don't even think of going to the government, especially if you're black or brown. The only thing the state cares about when it comes to minority communities is how to lock more of us up.

"Back on the Rez, about once a month, a state van would come out and a group of white people, usually men, but not always, would start taking kids, saying they heard there was some form of abuse or neglect going on. Eventually, we formed lookouts who would signal when they were coming, and all the kids would hide. I remember sitting in a little dark hole, terrified that I was going to be taken away and given to some white couple as their token brown baby."

Sarah never looked at Jerry the entire time she had been talking. Instead, she stared off, looking back through time at her past self, running and hiding, hoping not to be found. Now, she turned back to Jerry and said, "I bet you didn't know that either?"

Jerry looked down and shook his head in shame.

"Here," Sarah said, trying to alleviate some of the awkward tension. "Take a look at these screen shots of the text messages Lucia had sent. This first one here, where she says she thinks she's going to like it there, that kind of sounds like something a fourteen year old would say. Now, look at these next ones. They're so vague as to be useless. Most are just meaningless emojis; until this one where she talks about it being tough and not feeling like she belongs but her friends are helping her out. That sounds real as well. After that, a few more nonconsequencial texts, then poof, nothing but the letters."

"Hmm, and there, one deleted message," Jerry added, pointing to the screen.

"Yeah, I saw that. You can retrieve that, right?" Sarah asked, hoping that this was even possible.

"Maybe. Nothing is ever fully deleted, but some things are harder to recover than others." He thought for a second and added, "Can you get me her phone? It'll make things a lot easier."

"Sure, and see if you can find where those texts were coming from. If they weren't coming from the camp site, we may have to look in a different direction."

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

Sarah slowly made her way through the woods to where Jerry said the texts had been coming from. She had been surprised to see the location was within walking distance of the girl's house. This gave credence to the idea that Luz had never actually gone to camp. Although if that were true, then the camp had been sending out fraudulent letters to cover up the fact that Lucia had never arrived, which didn't make sense. There were a lot of pieces, but none of them seemed to fit.

In the distance, she saw a dilapidated, abandoned house. It reminded her of the shack from "The Evil Dead". As she got closer to it, the energy in the area began to change. It became thick, prickly. She started to sweat, despite the air being relatively cool. Without thinking, she unholstered her gun.Taking out her phone, she called Jerry. As soon as he answered, she asked, "Are you sure this is where the texts were coming from?"

"Absolutely. Why?" He was unnerved by the undercurrent of fear in her voice. He had known Sarah for a long time, and she didn't spook easily. If she sounded like this, something was definitely wrong.

"No reason, except I'm approaching a house that looks like a horde of Deadites are about to come rushing out of it." She tried her best to sound like she was joking, but she couldn't mask the actual fear that was welling up inside her.

"Wow, that's not good," Jerry replied, a small chill starting to creep up his spine.

"No, it's not," she said, feeling alone and on edge. "Alright, I'll call you back then." She ended the call and put her phone back. Then, she took went up to the door.

The air was even thicker here and more electric. The door stood partially open. In the back of her mind, a voice was screaming to turn around and leave as fast she could. "Wakan Tanka, guide and protect me," she said under breath. With one swift motion of her foot, she kicked the door all the way open.Inside, she saw there was nothing. It was completely empty. She was surprised but not relieved. There was a force that was simultaneously pulling her in and pushing her back. She couldn't explain it, but she sure as hell could feel it.

Gingerly, she made her way into the shack, testing each floorboard to make sure it was strong enough to support her weight. As she got to the center of the room, she noticed that something looked off. Even though there was nothing there, in the air, there appeared to be the faint outline of a door. Sarah didn't know what to think of it. It had to be some sort of optical illusion, but how was it being created? What could possibly bend the light so as to produce this effect? She cautiously stuck her arm out, through the place where the phantom door stood. Her arm bristled with charges of electricity. The feeling was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, just weird. She then took a deep breath and walked through it.

Suddenly, her mind was filled with nightmarish images of strange, Lovecraftian monstrosities, acid yellow skies, the bones of an impossibly large creature, rotting in some unholy sea. Then, it shifted to a castle. It was bleak and dark. In the center stood a figure dressed in a white and gold robe. He (for some reason she felt it was a he) was taking to some short creature of an appearance that no natural selection would ever produce. He then turned to face the spot where she felt like she was standing. He had on a featureless, gold mask, save for two horns protruding from it. They twisted up and intertwined with each other like two separate vines that had merged and grown together. The eye holes were as black as the abyss, then they started to glow a ferocious, pustule yellow as he seemed to be looking straight at her. She screamed in terror as she fell to the ground. She quickly rolled over, pushed herself back against the wall, and fired her gun at the spot where the phantom door had been. She quickly snapped back to her senses. She forced herself up and back to the spot where the door had been. This time, however, there was nothing. She stuck her hand out and felt nothing. Whatever it was, it was gone now.

Sarah sprinted outside, desperate to be out in the open. As soon as she was off the porch, she turned around and looked at the house, which she almost swore was looking back at her. She wanted to leave, but she also didn't want to turn her back on it either. Eventually, she forced herself to turn around to start to head back. As she did, she noticed a small pile of ash on the ground as if a sheet of paper had been burned. She shook her head and walked away as fast as she could. As soon as she got to her car, she started shaking uncontrollably. She didn't know what she experienced, only that it was profound and horrifying. There was also a name that was slowly crawling its way from the back of her mind, a name she read in book once, when she was in high school. A name that none dare speak - Hastur, The King in Yellow.