#also davids glasses are so cursed here

[elliottexists]

everyone say thank you georgia tennant

[youcancallmeelle]

She’s got a boyfriend anyway…

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Word count: 7K

Warnings: Semi public sex, Missionary, Cowgirl, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Sneaking around, Secret relationship, Brief David mention, Ellie being a menance, Tommy trying to play matchmaker.

Summary: Tommy has been trying to set Joel up for AGES, he’s got other interests.

Or

You and Joel have secretly been seeing each other.

A03

Read below…

Life in Jackson is promising, nearly a year and half here and Joel feels comfortable, no longer itching for a way out of civilisation because he’s just not used to that no more. Ellie is settled too - finally. She’s attending school three days a week, enjoying the new responsibilities that come with being sixteen and the tad bit of freedom it brings. She helps out at the stables, in the kitchen too but she’s not a fan. She likes being in the library most, checking in and out books, tidying shelves, using her art to create eye catching displays aimed at the younger generation of Jackson.

Joel is proud, his heart feels like it could burst out of his chest all the time. Ellie is still full of wit and charisma that comes out in curses and daft puns that make Joel roll his eyes and get her in a headlock until she’s laughing so hard she’s pink in the face.

There’s times when she skips school completely if a male teacher has subbed in, she flinches away if someone comes too close and sometimes if it’s stew night at dinner, she’ll stare blankly into her bowl at the chunks of meat and see a severed ear, she’ll try to swallow but gag instead. These are nights Joel gives her his bread and Tommy will too, then he’ll make her a fruit salad when they get home with a little double cream poured over it.

The nightmares are persistent on these bad days where triggers occur, he finds Ellie in bed screaming and thrashing multiple times a week. She’ll sob and cry hoarsely as he holds her, hushing her gently and resting his cheek on her head. Most of the time she’ll fall back asleep with him beside her, curled into him like she did back at Silver Lake when death was close.

But mostly, everything’s okay.

Joel had been with Tommy every single day this week so far and it was Thursday evening, they’d been focusing on fixing up the bathroom in a house way further down from his, they were getting it ready for a family that had expanded to move in. The floor was rotten and the pipes wrecked, neither of them were particularly fond of plumbing but they sorted it between them. There was still the kitchen to do but that was a job for tomorrow and probably Saturday too but not Sunday, that was his day with Ellie.

Sunday’s were for late breakfasts of bacon and pancakes - before and after the world ended. The only thing that changed was the kid for Joel, he used to serve Sarah indulgent breakfasts on a Sunday and they’d do something together and the tradition was carried on with Ellie and Sarah remained tucked in his heart.

Tired and stiff from working hunched over all day, Joel was enjoying a quiet drink with Tommy. They were tucked away on a small table with two stools, Joel would have preferred something with a back but beggars can’t be choosers; he was grateful for the cold glass of bourbon nearly empty in front of him and the sound of Dire Straits playing over the old speakers.

As always, Tommy is picking and prying into his lack of a love life. Since he’s noticed his older brother being more settled within the community, he’d been trying his hardest to set him up with various women and Tommy Miller was nothing if not persistent.

At this point in the day, Tommy’s voice is almost just white noise.

“Cath is nice.” Tommy pointed out, Joel snorts.

“She’s also gay, Tommy.”

“Oh shit, really? I didn’t know.”

“Clearly. Can we please stop talking about this? It’s the same thing every fuckin’ time I come drinking with you.” Joel begs, Tommy sighs heavily but drops it for now.

Joel takes in the scenery as he sits there, grateful for the moments silence from Tommy. His eyes stray to the left of the table and he listens as you speak to Denton, an older gentleman in his late sixties with a love of horses. He’s quizzing you about the new mare in the stables, he hears you mention checking on her again after your shift because she’s been particularly temperamental since she was brought in from outside but you’ve developed a nice bond with her, she’s slowly becoming more trusting.

It occurs to Joel that everyone likes you - literally everyone, even Ellie and she was a tough nut to crack. You’re sweet, soft spoken yet confident. You’re always helping out where you can; on patrols, stable duty, in the communal garden, sometimes at the school and also here at the bar when Darius needs his shift covered.

You find good things on patrol and give them to Joel or Ellie before taking the rest for the community, so they get first pick of everything.

You’re just the sweetest thing.

Tommy sees you and beckons you with a friendly wave, you mutter a goodbye to Denton and pat his hand.

“Hey.” You hear your name called over the music and you turn as Tommy Miller grabs your attention as you scoop up two glasses and an empty bowl that once held nuts and dried berries from the table two away from his and Joel’s.

“Yes, Miller?” You patter over with your hands occupied, you sneak a look at his older sibling, sparing him a wink as a greeting, he smirks softly back.

“Has Darius got an other fuckin’ music or are we strictly limited to the sounds of 1985 tonight?” He questions and you laugh, shaking your head.

“You don’t like Dire Straits?”

“He doesn’t appreciate good music.” Joel interjects, shaking his head at Tommy.

“I do - but other music. Eminem or even fuckin’ Britney! Anything but this shit.” Tommy groans, tossing his head back.

“Keep talking smack about Dire Straits, Miller - and I’ll snitch to your wife about the fact you’ve switched patrols with Mark twice this week because you were too hungover to go.” You smile sweetly at Tommy, tilting your head.

“Snitches get stitches.” Tommy remarks playfully, not an ounce of malice in his dark brown eyes and your eyebrows rise, you beam back.

“That right? Well, troublesome men get barred for life.”

“Oooooh.” Joel chimes in, looking amusedly between you and his younger brother.

“Touché.” Tommy quips, folding his arms.

“Tell you what, next time I’m in, I’ll have a rummage out back and see if I can find you some Britney. Bless you.” You pinch his cheek as you walk past and he swats your hand, rubbing the spot while Joel laughs.

“You’re pushing your luck giving her lip, I’m not sure if you’re aware but this is the only operational bar in Wyoming.”

“Tell me about it.” He grumbles back, Joel shakes his head once more as the door behind Tommy on the back wall opens.

“Joeeeeeel?!” He hears yelled from close by, he looks up and sees Ellie dragging her sneakers across the floor, scouring the bar for him with her honey coloured eyes eagerly. She spots him within seconds, beaming and practically skipping over to him and Tommy in the corner. “There you are, I looked fucking everywhere for you.” She groans dramatically, throwing her head back. “I wanna go out, I’m bored shitless at home. There’s nothing for me to do and yes - I’ve done my school work.” She quickly adds.

“You done those quadratic equation questions we were going over last night?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Yep. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, though I did ask my teacher because I’m pretty sure you were figuring them out wrong. You were, by the way.” Joel puffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. Ellie spins to Tommy, the soles of her shoes squeaking. “Can I try that?” She’s laser focused on the bourbon swimming between globes of ice in Tommy’s glass.

“What have I said the last twenty times you’ve asked, El?” Tommy’s dark brows are high on his forehead, his mouth is twisted with hidden laughter. Ellie rolls her eyes with annoyance, sloping over to Joel now.

“No.” She huffs, swinging her lanky arms around Joel. She hums and rubs her face into his shoulder bone, resting there for a second before her attentions shifts comically fast. There’s a warmth that spreads through Joel every single time she does this, she’s so casual about it and he’s drawn the conclusion that it’s a teenage thing because Sarah was the same. There’s a sadness that blossoms too, a darkness that twists and anchors in his chest as he thinks of her and who she’d be now. He can’t dwell for too long, not now - he did that for too long.

At one dark point in time, human connection was not key to survival, hence why he always kept Tess at arms length and then referred to Ellie as cargo until one snowy day it became apparent she was no longer cargo when she was frenzied and panting in his arms, splattered with the blood of a predator and gasping like she was taking her last breath. The sound haunted him for a long time, all memories of Sarah hitting him like a freight train. He had to protect Ellie, the minute he drew her in - oh baby girl - and held her tightly, wrapped in his coat and clinging to him just as hard.

Ellie’s his kid now. She’s his. He’s hers. They’re a family. Ellie Williams Miller - that’s how she’s known now. It’s scrawled on her school books. The love he feels for this human tornado in sneakers is unmatched, the one thing he’s ever been truly good at has been restored and it’s a role he knows well; being a father.

Sure, this teenager that he’s raising is the furthest from bubblegum pink and Avril Lavigne she could be, she’s particularly jagged around the edges and does have the temperament of an unsocialised cat that will bite if you get too close.

He looks down at her, rubbing into him like she’s trying to get his smell on her because it’s comforting and she feels safe and feels his heart ready to burst.

Of course the sweet moment of affection is shattered when Ellie yawns directly into his fucking ear because why wouldn’t she?

He grunts when she bears most of her weight on his aching shoulders, leaning easily into him and twisting her small fingers into his flannel.

“So? Can I go or not?” She presses.

“Go where?” He prompts, raising his eyebrow.

“Toni’s from school. Her cat had kittens a few weeks ago and they’re starting to play. Five of them, Joel! That’s a lotta kittens!” Ellie enunciates, brown eyes wide and Joel can’t help the smile that graces his otherwise tired face.

“You mean a litter?” He corrects and Ellie pauses, frowning.

“Huh?”

“A bunch of kittens is a litter, Ellie.” He informs her and she somehow manages to frown even more, she makes a noise like she’s computing the new information.

“Yeah, whatever.” She mumbles, Tommy snorts in amusement. “So I can go see them?” She presses, shifting her weight again and Joel groans louder now, unhooking her arms from his shoulders with a quiet ‘don’t do that, baby’ that’s full of affection.

“Yes but you’re back at nine latest, okay? Nine. I’ll be waiting for you, the minute those street lamps turn on, you’re home.” Joel says, Ellie’s mouthing along to his instructions that he’s been laying out since Summer began and the evenings stretched longer. “Be good.” He speaks more softly now and she nods, he presses a kiss to the side of her head, her eyelashes flutter happily as the warmth blossoms in her too with the security that’s Joel Miller.

“Peesh. I’m always good. Bye Tommy!” She says excitedly, fist bumping him when it’s offered.

“See ya, squirt.” Tommy replies but before he’s even voiced his reply, Ellie’s hurrying away and knocking into a patron while waving to you on the way out of the door so hard it slams. Joel sighs, thinking she’s a literal hurricane.

The door hinge has barely stopped shaking before Tommy starts with the suggestions of suitors once more.

“What about Myleene?” Tommy proposes, Joel shakes his head quickly, downing the remainder of his drink.

“Too young.” He replies.

“She’s twenty five.”

“Too young.” He repeats firmer this time.

“Okay, fine. What about Michelle? She’s what forty? I was talking to her in the cobblers the other day, she’s definitely interested - mentioned something about making you a pie?”

“I’m good.” He grumbles looking down into his empty glass but quickly shifting his gaze to the bar, you’re leaning on your elbows, laughing heartily with a patron.

You look beautiful tonight - just like every other night. Your shoulders are sunkissed, your cheeks a little flushed and skin glowing from the summer humidity. He absorbs the way your hair tumbles down your shoulders and the way the thin straps of your tiered sundress slip down occasionally, only to be tugged back into place with dexterous fingers.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Tommy jibes, Joel looks over with a firm scowl.

“What?” He asks, Tommy shakes his head.

“You can dream, brother.” Joel rolls his eyes, trying to act nonchalant. “She’s got a boyfriend anyway.” Tommy adds, Joel eyes him with full attention.

“A boyfriend?” He asks, trying to be sure he heard right.

“Yeah, overheard her talking to one of the girls in the garden a few days ago. Didn’t mention no names but she definitely said she was seein’ someone.” Tommy shrugged, Joel hummed with interest. “Anyway, it don’t matter because she’s way out of your league.”

“Thanks.” Joel retorts, sneaking one last look before focusing on the door behind Tommy, the one Ellie had not long barrelled in and out of just moments ago.

He wonders about the kittens she mentioned and gulps as he imagines her taking to one with its big eyes and soft paws, his mind is pulled back to a time in April when he’d come downstairs one morning to a sink full of tad poles she’d ‘rescued’ from birds out of the neighbours pond.

Basically, his girl can’t resist animals she deems too vulnerable to leave.

“Scared Ellie’s gonna come home with one of them kittens?” Tommy wonders, reading Joel’s mind.

“Terrified.”

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

The sun is setting in bursts of burnt orange and marigold by the time he leaves Tommy to his own devices at the bar, he hazards a look around as he makes his way in the complete opposite direction to his and Ellie’s house.

He slinks around the back of the school house, slithering through the gap and walking up the winding path that leads to the stables. He climbs the short fence and hops to the other side, his boots kick up the dust from the dirt path and the crickets chirp beneath the skyline.

With one more look around, he opens to rear door to the stables and slips inside, shutting it softly behind him.

Immediately he hears the horses further down huff and puff, he can make out the swish of their tails hitting the walls as they munch on hay, there’s a neigh that is absolutely Shimmer kicking up a fuss about something.

He slopes around the riding gear and sees you leaning against the wall, hands behing your back. You grin.

“Took your time, cowboy. Was beginning to think you couldn’t take the hint and stood me up.”

“Never, honey.” Joel prowls towards you, ready to grab you. “Missed you.”

“You just saw me.”

“Not the same.” He yanks you close like a man starved, you’d shared company less than 24 hours ago but you greet and leave each other like it’s the last time you’ll ever be together. It’s the apocalypse affect, you know that, he does too

This arrangement had been going on for almost two months now, all started by a late night patrol together where you’d shared more about yourselves in an eight hour shift than both of your time in Jackson combined. There was an instant attraction, it was so easy to talk to one another and that’s what you did every single time you were partnered together and it became the highlight of your day. It started innocently and friendship had bloomed, then before you knew it you were sharing a rum laced thermos of tea with him in the bed of a truck and kissing him with reddened cheeks shortly thereafter. You’d first slept together in the same truck, just as dawn began to break. It was clumsy and quick but you couldn’t get enough of one another. You hadn’t cum but Joel promised next time would be better which lead to the question of next time? You’d been seeing each other most nights since.

Any chance you got, you were together. Nobody knew about you both, hence why Tommy was incessantly trying to hook Joel up with other women around town and jealousy burned as you listened in on their one sided conversations in the bar whenever you were covering for Darius.

You’d left the bar shortly before Joel had, waving farewell to him and Tommy, coming straight up here to check on the mare just as you’d told Denton. This was a usual spot to meet Joel, it wasn’t your first rodeo in the stables with him. It was the one place you could be alone after a certain time.

“Were you hiding from me, honey? Hmm?” He growls playfully, pulling you to him even though you were barely a millimetre away in the first place. You hum in response, so utterly lost in him. You’re nuzzling his throat, fisting his shirt, desperate for his attention. “God, you look so good today.” He murmurs, mouth finding yours. You moan softly, standing on your tip toes and kissing him in a way that makes his lungs and loins burn alike. His grey tinged moustache prickles your upper lip beautifully, his beard feels familiar beneath your soft hands.

He’s crowding you and guiding you backwards, kissing you hotly in a sense that makes your cunt throb eagerly. You moan into his mouth when he nips your bottom lip, squeezing the left cheek of your ass.

You love when he’s like this - playful and easy. He feels lightyears younger around you, it’s like the heaviness dissipates the moment he’s in your company. He loses himself in the way you smell, the way your hair feels when his fingers are entwined between the sun kissed strands, the way in which your eyes sparkle with mischief.

It’s easy to pull him towards the back of the stable, where the bales of hay were stacked created a nice wall of privacy. You’d been in here a couple of times with him, having gone as far to stash a flannel blanket in one of the cupboards to lay down as to protect you both from the cold floor and the prickle of loose hay.

Once behind the hay and seated on a bale with you in his lap, strong hands are moving the thin straps of your sundress down your shoulders, you momentarily break away from his mouth to aid the removal of your dress to your waist where Joel roughly bunches it up so that your underwear is now on show and so are your tits.

His eyes light up at your bare chest, like he hasn’t seen your breasts countless times before. One thing among many that you first noticed was that Joel Miller is a tit man through and through. His rough and work toughened hands cup them both gently before his tongue swirls around your left nipple.

“Joel.” You murmur, arching into him, rolling your hips into his. He’s hard already, age not affecting him like that in the slightest. He’s a hot blooded male, every single inch a man and that warms you to your core. You grab his hand, bringing it to the top of your panties and he slides it in without hesitation.

“Christ.” He curses, exploring your lips with his fingertips, gliding through the dewy wetness gathered there and coming back up for a split second to drag it over your clit roughly. You whimper, bucking into his hand. “Mmm, babydoll.” Joel huffs against your cheek in a hot pant, repeating the action.

“Need you so badly, Joel. Almost got started without you.” You confess.

“Fuck. You can’t- don’t say shit like that, honey.” He growls lowly, unbelievably hard beneath you. His fingers explore again, you aid his explorations by canting your hips just so.

Joel is eager to get things moving, he’s hard and frustrated, he has a beautiful woman in his lap and the perfect setting. He pulls his hand from your underwear, looking down to see the shine of you on him. He loses his mind when you take his hand and lead it to your mouth, sucking the tips of his index and middle finger as he watches with eyes blown wide; they look black instead of the earthy brown that sometimes melts into caramel or runny honey.

The minute you hum like a content cat, he has you lifted off his lap and braced against him. You squeal at the sudden shift, the ceiling looking closer than the floor but then he gently lays you back on the blanket and settles between your legs.

“Hey, who was Tommy trying to set you up with?” You blurt, Joel pauses.

“Cath.”

“She’s gay.” You frown.

“Michelle too.” He adds before diving down into your chest, pressing your breasts together, mouthing at the swell.

“I’m not sure you’re Michelle’s type, she’s a cougar apparently.” You remark, Joel ignores you in favour of sucking your nipples until they feel raw. “Why Michelle? I don’t understand why Tommy thinks she’s a good match for you.” You don’t know why this is coming up now, your mouth seems to have a mind of its own, the jealousy settling like lead in your stomach.

“He said she wants to make me a pie.” Joel pipes up, the confession half muffled.

“What kind of pie?” You ask, pulling his face from your tits. Joel groans frustratedly, looking up at you with eyes dark and deadly.

“I don’t know. Why does that even matter?”

“A cream pie probably.” You snarl under your breath, the jealousy swirling in the pit of your stomach like a rattled viper.

Joel laughs, shaking his head and coaxing your mouth back to his. “Gross.” He murmurs, kissing you softly and squeezing your hips as if to guide you back. “You know I only like your cream pies.” He jokes, this time you break into a smile.

“Now whose gross?” You snort, tugging his plain grey undershirt over his head and to the side. You run your palms over his chest and down to his softer stomach, digging your nails in as they drag a long his skin. Goosebumps erupt all over him.

Joel is softer in his older age but strong too, years of walking different terrain, heavy lifting and fighting have made him lean also.

You hum contentedly, tracing over those familiar scars that have been made in the 20 years since the world imploded.

“He said you were out of my league.” Joel suddenly admits, resting his hands on your spread knees. You frown up at him. “Tommy said you were out of my league.”

“Tell Tommy he doesn’t know shit.” You retort with an eye roll, grabbing Joel by his belt and yanking him forward. “I like you, Joel. Fuck what anyone else thinks, it’s not anyone’s business who we choose to be with.” You say softly now, kissing your way up his chin to his lips. “I like you.” You affirm again, Joel kisses you tenderly, weaving his hand into your hair as you moan quietly.

“Well, I like you too.” He says, kissing you with so much passion yet so much tenderness all at the same time as you fumble to unbuckle his belt. You yank it apart, tugging open the button and prying the worn denim apart with the hiss of his zipper.

He barely lets you wrap a hand around him over his boxers before he has both your wrists pinned above your head, you make a sad whine but all disappointment quickly dissipates when he shuffles down the length of your torso and yanks your underwear down so fast you feel the material leave a friction burn. He grabs your thighs and then manoeuvres your legs by the backs of your knees, you like where this seems to be going.

Your spine curves against the hard floor when his mouth makes that first contact, he starts slow with a lick up the length of you, then he lightly suckles your lips and gently licks over the hood of your clitoris.

“Joel.” You murmur, twisting the blanket beneath your fingertips, scrunching it and bitting down on your lower lip as he continues his gentle assault on your clit, the rubber toes of your hi tops dig into his ribs almost painfully.

His thumb comes up to gently push the hood of your clit back, the sensation of his tongue directly stimulating the nerve causes you to gasp and wind one hand down into his hair, you tug and he groans against you.

You’re transported back to one of the first times you’d been intimate together after sleeping together in the truck.

For some reason, it had shocked you that Joel Miller ate pussy like a champ. The first time he’d gone down on you - behind the bar just after you’d blown him - you’d prepared yourself for dissatisfaction and disappointment, only it never came. Joel had licked into you with such ferocity and precision that you’d almost keened over.

He’d made you cum so quickly that you’d barely had time to process the first swipe of his tongue on your clitoris and the climax that followed minutes later.

He’d looked up at you, moustache and beard slick with his eyes wide; ‘I forgot how much I enjoyed doing that’ he’d panted while you squeaked back in shock.

Now, as you live in the moment, you feel that tingle of pleasure building but you don’t want to cum without him inside of you. As much as it pains you, you tug on his hair, urging him back up.

“Wanna cum with you.” You pant when he looks up with dazed brown eyes, frowning a little. He seems to accept that and sits up, shucking his jeans and boxers down over his ass with the help of your clumsy hands. “Lay back.” You demand, he does so and you move to take his place.

You throw your legs over his and settle above his lap, he’s got one arm behind his head and watches as you take him in your first and tease yourself with the flushed tip of him. He breathes in sharply through his nose as you do it again before notching him at the site of your heat, you steady yourself and begin to sink down.

“Fuck me.” Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly because he’s so sure he’s in heaven. The sensation of your wet heat surrounding him never gets old, he’d forgotten how much he loved sex before meeting you.

“You’re so big, Joel.” You whimper, stroking his ego deliciously and he hates to be such a guy but the compliment goes straight to his dick.

“Fuck, honey. Take what you want, I’m yours - just fuck me.” He begs as you slowly begin to move, your nails scrape across his torso as you fall into an easy rhythm of rolling your hips into his. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.” He babbles, looking up and admiring the curve of your back and the way your tits bounce as you ride him.

“Mmm.” You whine, picking up the pace and throwing your head back which exposes your jugular and Joel just wants to sink his teeth into you because you truly look good enough to eat.

“Come here, babydoll.” He urges, pulling you down so you’re chest to chest. Your peer at him with pretty doe eyes, your lashes flutter as they shut to kiss him deeply, your tongue swipes his and you taste the tang of yourself on him. You moan louder when he manages to plant his boots on the floor and thrust up into you roughly, tangling his hand in your hair to keep you pressed against him.

It’s so hot in the stables, you’re both sticky and warm. But with your pretty moans and keens filling the air, Joel manages to easily forget the irritation from the heat.

You push against his chest to sit up and Joel grabs your hips, guiding you easily and you feel yourself getting close but you can’t achieve orgasm through penetration alone.

You brace one hand on his thigh behind you, tipping your head back as the pleasure becomes almost too much to handle. Your hips roll in an easy rhythm, his cock head hitting your G spot perfectly and you whine when the hand on your left hip moves ever so slightly until Joel was able to thumb your clit. He knows you so well.

“Oh f - fuck. You feel so good, you’re so good - fuck.” You babble, your hips moving faster.

“Jesus christ.” Joel huffs, throwing his head back against the hard floor, biting his bottom lip hard to stave off his orgasm. You feel so good wrapped around him; wet and snug, like crushed velvet.

He knows he can’t stay like this, he’s too close to finishing and he can sense you’re not quite there yet despite being edged so he makes the conscious decision to hold you and flip you both over with a nimbleness he didn’t know he possessed in his older age.

You stutter out a choked moan, arching into his strong hands. You drag your nails down his toned back, leaving a little spatter of blood in the red tracks.

Joel hisses when your nails puncture the skin on the globes of his ass, somehow trying to pull him closer and push him away at the same time.

“Where?” He asks, nodding downwards as he fights off his climax.

“Inside.” You reply without hesitation. You’d counted your cycle days, marking in a blank notebook the day number and your symptoms, pretty accurately guessing your fertile window and probable ovulation day by cervical mucus alone. You were four days from your period being due, it was safe.

“You sure?” He hesitates, brow furrowed hard with concentration, he’s a stroke away from finishing. He knows better than most people to not trust the pull out method and he knows the importance of contraception but he still ended up a Dad before he hit his mid twenties. Pushing sixty he’s still playing a dangerous game but so far, neither of you had gotten burnt.

“Yeah.” You gasp, fingers on your clit rubbing faster. You groan suddenly and twist into him, making pretty little whimpers and purring. He groans too, thrusting in hard once, twice and then three times. You feel his cock stiffen and twitch, then the pulse of subtle warmth of his cum spreading inside and aiming for your cervix. He works himself through it, you push in return as the aftershocks slow to a flat line.

Joel heaves a breath, resting on his forearms as you lazily kiss his neck in satisfaction and rapture. You sit there for a minute, basking in the afterglow until Joel grows too stiff and has to withdraw from you slowly, kneeling up between your legs to pull his boxers and jeans back up but he leaves them unbuttoned and his belt loose.

You don’t miss the primal look in his eyes when they drift to between your legs, he can see his cum leaking and the pearlescent finish it leaves on your lips. His cock twitches, perhaps if he was younger he could go for another round but alas, he settles next to you on the blanket, pulling you to his chest and cushioning your head with a strong bicep.

“I think that might have been the best time yet.” You pant breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling and seeing the evening sky through the cracks of wood.

“Maybe one day we can do it in an actual bed, I’m not sure how much more of these places my back can take.” Joel jokes, you giggle and turn into him, listening to the rapid pace of his heartbeat as it settles, a perfect mirror of your own.

“Not bad for an old timer.” You tease, giggling when he growls and squeezes your hip.

“Was patrol okay today?” Joel questions you, you nod lazily against him. “You come across anything?” Now you speak, leaning up to peer down at him.

“A couple of runners. We shot them in that abandoned gas station near the entrance to the offices off the trail. I think they were probably people passing through, one was infected on the journey and turned, then bit the other.” Joel hums, rubbing your lower back and hip. “I have some things for Ellie I found, by the way. I’ll drop them over tomorrow. Nothing crazy, just some things I thought she needed.” You say between kisses down Joel’s chest and sternum, your delicate fingers tracing out old battle scars.

“What like?” He asks, catching your hand as it reaches his happy trail, bringing it to his lips instead where he presses tender kisses to your fingertips.

“Pyjamas, underwear and some toiletries. Oh! And get this, a new casette tape for her walkman.”

“What tape?”

“Teardrops.” You grin.

“Womack and Womack? She’s gonna love that.” Joel says, laying back and smiling at the ceiling of the stables, humming the song in his head. “Fuck, I haven’t heard that song in - jesus - years.” He’s frowning, contemplating lost time, the whole concept of time evades him, it never used to at the start but now? It’s one big jumble, his time is defined by events and not a calendar.

“She still playing that one you got her on repeat?” You wonder.

“Yeah.”

“What was it again?”

“Bowie. Heroes.” Joel replies.

“Nice.” You nod.

As you lie there together in an easy silence, content to be together in the quiet solace of the stables, Joel’s mind wanders back to his earlier conversation with his younger brother:

“Hey, er - Tommy actually said something else earlier.” Joel winces at how awkward he sounds and you huff loudly, ready to hear what other dumbass thing he’s said. “He said he heard you say you have a boyfriend or that you were seein’ someone.”

You sit up, frowning down at Joel.

“Okay…” You reply hesitantly, uneasy now. “Am I not seeing you?” You frown.

“No - no! It’s… that came out wrong. I just meant - “ Joel grumbles, covering his face momentarily while you try to will your stomach from not sinking. “I don’t know, I just wanted to know if you meant me.”

“Seriously, Joel? This conversation is going so well.” You say dryly, utterly unimpressed.

“No! Oh my god! I can’t do this.” He groans, realising his mistake. “I’m sorry, that came out so wrong.” Joel apologises, you snort.

“Look Joel, I was talking to Mrs Patterson in the garden and she was telling me about her late husband, saying how lovely he was and how men just aren’t like that anymore. She asked if I’d found anyone and I let it slip that I was seeing someone, I didn’t mention any names and I can totally understand why you’re freaked when we haven’t even had that conversation ourselves. I shouldn’t have assumed this was anything more than sex, I’m sorry.” You annunciate, warm in the cheeks.

“You want to just have sex?” Joel is sat up now, matching your frazzled expression.

“If that’s what you want.” You shrug, taking an interest in your cuticles. A large hand lays over yours, squeezing. You shift your focus to his knuckles instead, tracing out the scars.

“Honey, look at me.” He urges softly, you hesitantly meet his eyes. “I think somewhere we’ve miscommunicated.”

“How so?” You press.

“Look… it’s been a long time since I’ve done this, I’m a little rusty. I’m sorry if I haven’t been clear about what we are or what I want us to be, I kinda just assumed you knew and yeah, that’s real shitty of me.” He says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I wanna be exclusive with you, honey. I mean, I have Ellie to think about so we’ll need to go slow just so I can ease her into the change. Is that okay?” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“That’s more than okay, Joel. I completely understand, I don’t want to spook Ellie either.” You confirm, Joel let’s out a relieved sigh.

“Good - good, okay. We’ll figure it out, baby.” He assures you, nuzzling his nose against yours and kissing you softly.

It’s easy to lose yourself in Joel Miller, you’re swept up in the gruff voice and strong arms, the softness beneath his outer shell reserved for those closest to him.

You’re kissing him back in earnest, he’s reclining to lay back down with you on top of him and you’re sure this could lead to round two or at least head from either one of you, maybe even both.

However, the moment is spoiled when you hear voices creeping closer to the stables. You both stiffen and wait, looking at each other with eyes opened wide.

The voices are getting closer and you decipher it’s two sets, it’s not made clear who it is until they’re walking behind the stables and you can see their shadows slink between the thin gaps in the planks.

It’s Ellie and Tommy.

You and Joel scramble, you yank your dress back over your breasts and pull the hem of it over your ass. Your panties are on the floor and you narrowly dodge Joel’s elbow as he hastily buckles his jeans back up just in time for the door around the corner to open with a shriek of the hinges.

“What if he’s gone out on patrol without telling me? Or maybe he’s swapped with someone and gone hunting? I know I’m back way earlier than he said but he said he’d be home! Do you think he’s left the gate? What if he’s hurt? What if - “ Ellie begins to ramble and Tommy sighs.

“Kiddo, stop worrying. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, let’s look at the whiteboard and see if his name’s on there. I highly doubt he’s swapped shifts and he wouldn’t leave without telling you, he’s gotta be around here some…” Tommy’s reassurance comes to a stop when he round the corner of the hay bale wall and abruptly stops, staring at you and Joel with as much shock as you return.

Ellie slams into his back and he wobbles but his gaze never falters.

“What the fuck, man!” Ellie exclaims, shoving Tommy and stepping around his statue like form but also freezing too.

You look between them both, trying to formulate an excuse but Joel shoving his t-shirt on, the fact your clothes are crumpled and there’s absolutely hay in your tousled hair says it all.

Your panties are shoved behind your back out of view.

“Well I’ll be damned, you’re the guy she’s seein’!.” Tommy snorts, looking between you both. Joel growls, yanking on his flannel while Ellie manually retrieves her jaw from the floor.

“What the fuck is this?” She asks, looking between you and Joel. “You have a girlfriend? What the fuck, dude? You didn’t say anything!” She fumes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Look, it’s complicated and new.” He says, which placates her slightly. She stares at you again and you see the betrayal hidden behind a scowl, she looks at Joel again.

“Fine. I guess this isn’t that bad, it could be worse - we could of caught you with Esther.”

“That’s true.” Tommy nods, pointing at Ellie, she nods back.

“Esther?” You question, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Tommy’s neighbour, she totally fancies Joel.” Ellie tells you. “You should fight her.”

“No, she doesn’t and stop shit stirring.” Joel warns Ellie, she hides a smirk which tells you she’s winding Joel up.

“I could take Esther.” You say, playing along, Ellie’s eyes brighten with mischief.

“Nobody’s fighting no one.” Joel settles, you’re all silent for a millisecond and then Tommy throws in his two cence.

“You could take Esther.” He agrees.

“Enough about Esther, please!” Joel begs, beside himself.

“This is fucking embarrassing, Joel. What the fuck do you expect us to do? It’s awkward!” Ellie complains, Tommy nods in agreement, you do too.

“Yeah? Try being where we’re stood, kid.” He retorts.

Ellie kinda has to resist the urge to throw up in her mouth because Joel has sex which is so horrifying that she almost can’t bare to look at him but she’s equally happy for him and utterly disgusted, she swallows back a retch.

“Fine, whatever. I’m very happy for you and my da - Joel.” Ellie bursts and corrects herself at the last minute, you don’t miss the hitch in Joel’s breathing but this is not the time for that discussion. “I’m willing to negotiate a price for the emotional damage you’ve both caused me by lying to me, sneaking around and also having sex in front of my horse.” She lists.

“My horse too!” Tommy adds.

“And Tommy’s horse too, Crash and Shimmer didn’t want to see your bare ass.” Ellie continues and for some reason Joel knows exactly where this is going, so he braces himself.

“Name your price.” He bites, Ellie looks at him with a levelling glare, it’s getting hard not to laugh when you see Tommy observing like he’s watching a mafia deal go down.

“A kitten.” Ellie reveals.

He fucking knew it.

[tsukimefuku]

blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento

summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.

tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 

wc: 7.5k

notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.

writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).

disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.

oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?

It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.

Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.

During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.

One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 

"Are you certain it was him?"

"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."

"And how many students did he…"

"Two students from Kyoto."

Your head instantly felt dizzy.

"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."

"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.

 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"

Gojo was silent for a few moments.

"Hey…"

"Tell me. I can take it."

After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.

"Yes. It will."

Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.

For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.

"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."

"Of course."

Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.

He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.

There had been a few casualties, though.

Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.

Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.

To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 

That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.

They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.

Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 

Help was late to arrive.

They were too late for Haibara.

And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.

The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”

At least

There is a body 

To be buried

Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?

In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.

You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.

Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.

In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 

In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.

His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.

He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.

"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.

"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."

"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.

As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 

You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.

"Precisely."

"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."

You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.

For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.

His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.

Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.

Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.

You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.

Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.

"Why did you do it?"

Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.

"It was a necessary means to an end."

His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.

You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.

"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"

"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."

"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"

Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.

"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."

You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.

"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"

He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 

"Don't say his name."

Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.

But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.

This wasn't the case now.

Not entirely, at least.

"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.

"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."

"I'm not a would've been!"

You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 

You finally understood you were in love with him.

Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.

However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.

That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.

After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.

At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.

Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.

It felt like a promise.

Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.

What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.

What a cruel irony.

"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.

"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.

What a fucking low blow.

"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"

You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.

He diverted his gaze back to the window.

"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 

Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.

"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"

"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"

Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.

It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.

And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.

The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.

According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.

And you weren't there.

Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 

The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 

That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.

Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.

You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.

This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?

We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?

Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.

"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."

He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.

"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."

By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.

"The hell I did!"

You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.

"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."

You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.

"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 

Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.

"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."

He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.

"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."

"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.

"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"

"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."

Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."

In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.

However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.

Your own body held you back from taking his life.

He didn't seem to notice.

Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.

"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.

"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.

"You were never the practical one."

You scoffed.

"Guess I learned something from you."

He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 

Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.

You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 

Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.

The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.

You were cornered.

This is it.

You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.

Precise, just as he was.

Deadly, just as he was, too.

You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.

This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.

However, the impact never came.

His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 

“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.

“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 

“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”

You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.

“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 

He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.

“I hate you as well.”

For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 

The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.

"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."

His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.

"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.

"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.

Just fucking kill me already.

His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?

Did he hate you that much?

His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 

His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.

You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.

When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.

"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.

"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.

He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.

You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.

"What?"

You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.

"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.

His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.

Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.

I should be over her by now, dammit.

Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.

You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.

The way he'd cup your face in his hands.

 So delicate, so lovely.

This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.

"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.

He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.

He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.

You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.

"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.

"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.

His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.

In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.

A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.

You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 

Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.

This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.

He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.

Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.

His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.

"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."

You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.

"Go fuck yours-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.

He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.

"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.

His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.

He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."

You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.

"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.

"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 

Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.

You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.

With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.

“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”

His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.

To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.

Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.

“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.

He couldn't help it.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.

He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 

Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.

In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.

Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.

He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.

Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.

You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.

Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.

You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.

If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.

“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”

You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.

After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.

You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.

For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.

With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.

“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 

“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.

But it couldn’t.

You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.

And wouldn’t go now, either.

That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.

Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.

“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.

You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.

Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.

His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.

After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.

You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.

You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.

In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.

But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.

He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 

Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.

You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 

Good riddance to me, I suppose.

His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.

He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.

“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 

You could kiss him like this forever. 

You actually wanted to, at that moment.

To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 

Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.

Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.

You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.

Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.

Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.

Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.

Just like you were.

And just like Nanami was.

You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.

“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.

“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”

For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.

The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”

He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.

Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.

“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.

“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”

He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.

With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 

“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”

For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”

Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.

He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.

You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.

But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.

Not with him, but with the people he had killed.

Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.

It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 

In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.

The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.

With a decade’s old delay.

“I… just can’t. I can’t.”

Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 

He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.

He felt pathetically small.

Guess we get what we deserve, after all.

“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.

You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.

“Go to hell.”

He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.

Sad.

“We’re already here.” 

At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.

You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.

If only the world had been a little kinder.

But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.

End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉

-

Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000

@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa

@codenamesongbird

[morimemichael]

Not Allowed

Dbd!Myers x f!Reader

Reader it’s new to the realm, she gets a good first impression on everyone; killer and survivor. Tho there’s certain someone who seams to became too obsessed with her. She doesn’t get it, she thinks this killer hates her with all their guts. Sooner than later she finds that some interactions and relationships are not allowed in the realm.

WG: Some angst and cursing Michael actually talks but this is not actually a warning lol mentions of death, blood and gore. Michael and Ghostface have a bromance cause deep down they are besties. Dbd!Michael it’s based on RZ! Michael here. Use if y/n twice on the entire fic. Ghostface removes his mask. Michael removes his mask. Big old Pewpaw Kazan Yamaoka, aka, the ink is a great hugger. Happy ending(?)

You were brand new to the realm, like a new born baby. You didn’t understand what was going on, one night you went to bed and the next thing you know it’s the uncomfortable feeling of grass and wood sticks on your back. This was beyond clear that it wasn’t your bed.

You woke up scared as hell in an unknown forest to you, it’s was late at night you could tell and you didn’t met a single soul this far. All of that was vanished when the sound of what it seemed a camp fire stroked your ears, and for your surprise it wasn’t just a camp fire you could distinguish the sound of human voices too. It didn’t seem too far from were you currently were. So you walked a little faster while covering your chest with your own arms in a sutil attempt to combat the cold weather.

You stepped closer to the people in the camp fire to ask for help and maybe an answer to what was going on here. As you got closer could see a bunch of girls and a few boys. One of the girls had red hair and running clothes, the Oder one had short black hair, she was wearing glasses, the other one had also shirt hair, she was wearing a black and red shirt and loosen pants, on the other side; one of the boys was tall with very short black hair and when you herd him taking he had a british accent, the other boy had also black hair but it reached the mid of his face.

“Uhm, excuse me?” You said. Your voice low but clear. The red hair girl turned around to look at you. Suddenly everyone stopped talking.

“Oh my god…” The red hair girl stated. “Guys…I think we have a new partner!” She continued.

Everyone smiled at you and presented themselves. It turned out the red hair girl’s name was Meg Thomas, the girl with the glasses was Claudette Morel, the other girl was Nea Karlson, the British guy was David King and the other guy was Jake Park.

“Did you just arrived?” Claudette asked.

“Yeah…I don’t know where I am.” You stated.

“What’s your name girl?” Meg asked.

“Where are you from?” Another question, this time Jake.

“She’s gonna need a lot of help.” You herd David talking.

“Guys, why don’t we just let her sit with us and let her talk?” Nea said. It was the first time she talked.

You smiled for the first time.

You sat next to Meg and Nea and proceeded to tell every detail about you, your name, your age, where were you from. You told them that last night you had a fight with your parents and when you went to sleep you woke up here.

“We get you, we really do.” Jake spoke.

Everyone told you their personal story. How they end up here, but most important of all they told you what was going on in this place.

“There’s uhm…there’s something that we call the entity, that rules all of this place. She can do what she pleases with us and with everyone.” Nea talked looking at you.

“To survive and to keep every thing, no matter how small it might be, here with us, like some food and water, we have to go through trials.” Jake explained.

“Trials?” You asked confused.

“Yeah, we must repair five generators to open the exit gates.” Meg continued.

“That’s it? Just five generators? It’s a piece of cake…” you laughed.

“I wouldn’t say that if i were you…” David looked at you.

“Why not?” You talked back.

David sight, then he explained the most difficult part.

“We must face a killer that will be with us in the same place.”

“WHAT!? A real killer? Like from slasher movies?” You stated.

“Yes, a real killer.” David stated.

“N-no, no, I wanna go home, please!” You yell at the sky hopping this entity would hear you and somehow pity you.

Everyone looked at you with sad eyes, they knew you weren’t going home anytime sooner.

“Wish we could do something about it, I’m so sorry.” Jake spoke again after a long time.

You moved your head to the sides and looked down, a long sigh scapes your mouth. “Shit…” that’s all that came from you. Everyone remained silent for a while until you spoke again.

“So, how this trial thing works?”

“Well, the entity select some of us for the trial, four survivors to be exact. To help you in the trial you can carrie an object with you, this objects being a toolbox or a flashlight or a med kit and others. Every object has their own use, the toolbox can be use on the generators or to sabotage the hooks the killer use to hook us, by the way; the killer’s main goal is to hook us all in those hooks, flashlights are meant to blind the killer and save your teammates that se going to get hook, and last but not least the med kit as its name suggests can be use to heal yourself or your teammates. Also when you get hook-“ Claudette was interrupted by survivors who just came back from a trial. Four survivors emerged from the dar fog of this place.

“Gosh, that trial was so easy, I need something more challenging!” A young girl with blonde hair spoke.

“Hey Laurie, who was the killer this time?” David asked her.

Laurie? Like the same Laurie from the Halloween movies? You thought to yourself. The intrigue of knowing if you were right was eating your brain, you know you wouldn’t last any longer so you had to ask her.

“The trickster.” This girl said looking at David.

“Uhm excuse me, Laurie? Like Laurie Strode form the Halloween movies?” You finally asked her.

“Yes! I’m her. You must be new right?” She smiled back at you.

“Yes, in fact I got here a few moments ago.” You then proceed to present yourself.

“So nice to meet you! I know we’re gonna be good friends, watcha say new girl?” Laurie had a content face. New girl huh? You liked the new nickname.

“I hope so! By the way I loved that nickname!” Laurie smiled back at your words.

Nea joined your conversation with Laurie explaining further more how the trials work.

“Continuing with the trials, we’re gonna spawn in a map. In this map you will find certain constructions you can use to loop the killer, evade them or confuse them.

“Ok.” You listen very carefully to what Nea said.

Sooner than later you realize that some of the survivors that came with Laurie were from the Resident Evil game franchise. Leon and Jill were here, you wondered if others form the same games were too. You smiled when you saw Chris and Claire in this place too. You presented yourself like you did with everyone else and they seemed to like you as much as the rest did.

“We should tell you that some survivors came along with their respective killers, generally they are related to them. For example, Leon and me came along with Nemesis.” Jill explained.

“So…if you guys came along with Nemesis that means you Laurie came along with M-“

“Yes, I came along with Michael Myers.” She finished the sentence for you. The second you hear that afirmation you knew you no longer wanted to get back home.

“Gosh that’s awesome! I love the Halloween movies, as much as the Resident Evil games or the Scream movies. I love Halloween season so much, and Halloween loves me.” You gave the guys a mischievous smile.

“That’s great! But do let me tell you that most of the killers aren’t nice as us survivors. Some of them lack empathy and act rude. Tho I have to say some killers are nice sometimes.” Leon’s voice was calm but it sounded firm.

“I see, so uhm…Michael?” Your question was meant to find out how he acts in this place.

“Well, Michael has his “I think I could spare you” moments sometimes, but most of the time he just hooks us…he’s very accurate I would say.” Laurie didn’t have anything left to say about Michael.

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of disappointment and excitement, you wanted to face him so bad by now. Eventually the time for your first trial came, thankfully you weren’t alone, Laurie got picked too. You asume that the most optimal object to take with yourself for your first trial was med kit.

Soon the trial started and you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw that the killer you were going against was none other than Michael Myers himself. You were over excited, you wanted to say hi, let him know how much you liked his movies. You wander how he was going to act this time, you assumed since you were new maybe he could spare you. He was lurking near the generator you were currently working on, unaware you were conscious he was there.

Something inside you made you leave the generator and get closer to Michael. You could see he was stalking Jill, who was also picked with you, David was here too, somewhere on the map. You got closer and closer to Michael until you were near his back. The sound of a wood stick breaking under your feet gave you away. He stopped on his track and tilted his head to the left making you know he heard you. Your heart was ricing at this point. He turned around completely to face you. You could hear him breathing behind his mask. His blueish eyes analyzing you. The leafs under his feet made a cracking noise as he slowly walked towards you. Walking in circles around you he kept looking you up and down. Something form you caught his attention, maybe you reminded him form someone, he didn’t know. One thing was certain, besides looking you he was also stalking you. He made a final step in front of you, this time he was very near you. You instantly thought it was your end when he lifted his kitchen knife at you. You closed your eyes ready to get hit and downed, but the empty feeling of nothing tearing your flesh apart made you open your eyes. Yes, he was still there but his didn’t made a single move against you, he didn’t even tried to down you.

“I-i uhm know you! I love your movies.” You didn’t know why you said that. You felt so stupid. He didn’t answer of course he just tilted his head to the left.

He started moving forward through the map that’s stroke you late it was Haddonfield. You were following him, you didn’t fully understand why he didn’t try to kill you or stab you. Asking him questions didn’t seemed a bad idea to you tho. “So, how you end up here?” And another one “How long have you been here?” And another “Why don’t you talk?”, “Don’t you miss your home?”, “I told you i love your movies right? I think i did..” You even told him your name and your age and the place you came form, even how you end up here. But he never answered, all he did was stopping whenever you asked something and turn around to look at you.

Later than sooner you realize he was heading toward Laurie, who happened to see all the interactions between Michael and you.

“New girl? What are you doing?! RUN!” She screamed at you. She stepped forward to grab your hand, and just as she saw Michael was going for you she stepped in the middle of you to. Michael grabbed her instead. He grabbed Laurie by the throat and buried the long kitchen knife in her abdomen.

“OH MY GOD LAURIE!” You scream in panic. The young blond girl struggled against Michael who buried the knife deeper fully killing her.

“LEAVE HER ALONE PLEASE, DON’T HURT HER!” Blood leaving Laurie’s body as he throws her on the street asphalt. He lowered his knife for a second and walked to your side, he looked again at you, this time inches away from your face. You closed your eyes waiting for your inevitably fate, which it never came. He lifted his knife again and went for the rest of the survivors, Jill and you were left until it was only you.

“Shit…” you muttered to yourself. You were just meters away from Michael who was facing back at you and still had his knife up.

You heard a little noice of something opening near you, but Michel herd it too. This time walking towards you, ready to curse him you saw how he walked pass you a few meters away and turned to look at you again, this time putting his knife down. He look down at what it seemed to you like a little door on the street, and look back up at you. You didn’t understand. You catch up with him and looked him dead in his dark eyes.

“Fuck..you..and this place and your stupid movies!!” He gestured down to the little gate again.

“I don’t get it!! I don’t know what it means…freak.” You were really starting to hate him, or you were just scared. Claudette didn’t finish to tell you that this things happen frequently. Deaths happen frequently, but you just didn’t know it. Michael gestured one last time to the little door and then looked up at you.

“FUCK! I don’t want it! Screw you bastard!” You push him a little bit, you knew this time you went too far when he grabbed you by your throat and push you against the nearest parked car. You tried your best to hit him hard, unfortunately he didn’t even react.

“I-i can’t…can’t breath Mich-michael…” You felt your air leaving your lungs. He gave you his signature look and move his knife closer to you. Then you finally felt it. Cold, it sting like, you finally felt the pain. Then all over again, and again, and again. He stabbed you, more than once. He wasn’t stabbing vital points, he was going slow.

“Please…” You pleaded, in vain, cause he didn’t stop. Instead he got out all the knife and finally stabbed you deeper. Little pain sounds scaped your mouth, and for the first time on this place you cried. Then all turned black. Just like that you were gone.

Michael put your body down, surprisingly with gentle moves. He kept looking at your dead body noticing what was left of your tears. He wasn’t going to kill you. When he saw you for the first time moments ago something woke up in him, he didn’t know what it was. You intrigued him in a way nothing ever did before. He wasn’t bother by your questions, the first time he looked at you was because he didn’t know what to do, he analyzed your gestures your face, your eyes...the other times he stopped when you asked him a question was on purpose, he wanted to look at your precios eyes just to be sure he wasn’t making it all up. He didn’t want to kill you, but…why did you act like that? He wanted you to leave, damn he even offered you the hatch. The second those hurting words left your mouth he felt attacked. He was trying to be nice, to do something nice…why couldn’t you be nice to him too? He was hurt, you caught his attention, but you hurt him. Why? You even said you loved his movies, why were you being so rude to him? He let his knife fell to the street, looking down he brought one hand to his masked face and one single scream was heard on Haddonfield that night. He was the only one left there.

The feeling of your death still lingered on your body the first time you came back to the camp fire. Laurie, Jill and David were already there due to that they have been killed earlier before you. You couldn’t help but feel awful.

“He…killed…he killed us. Like we were nothing.” You sounded so disgusted.

“Yeah new girl…most of the time it is like this. We forgot to tell you that killers hook survivors to sacrifice them to the entity. Or sometimes they can kill us with their own hand…like Michael did.” Laurie explained. You were so relieved to know that even if you or anyone gets killed they came back.

“I tried to be nice…i-i really did. I even want sure if he was going to kill me, but then he got you Laurie…” You continued.

“I saw all of it. And it was rare! He never acted like that with new survivors.” Laurie exclaime surprised.

“What you mean?” You replied back.

“He wasn’t just stalking you…he seemed to be analyzing you as well…who knows for what or why?” Laurie confirmed.

“Well that didn’t go well did it? I think he hates me…”

“I think he saw something in you. He likes you…” Laurie’s word were spoken so low you didn’t hear her, tho the rest of the survivors did, and they shared the same theory. Because killers can be nice sometimes, you heard killers like Ghostface, or Deathslinger, or even Oni had a good side….but Michael? He was known to be nice just three or four times since he got in the realm. It was unusual his behavior. And they know it, specially Laurie who came with him and Danny the Ghostface who seemed to grow closer to Michael over the years.

On the other hand, in the distant across the camp fire were the killers. They were all in the same place, hanging and resting like survivors did. It existed a physical barrier that separated the camp fire form the killers. Both survivor and killer could get near this barrier but couldn’t cross it. Survivors could meet the killers on trials or if the decided to go to certain map or place. Once there they could interact. But some interactions were not allowed. It’s not like something bad would happen to the survivor or the killer, it was the fact that the entity didn’t want that in her realm. It was known that when a killer didn’t do well in the trial, the entity would punish them, maybe she would make them see something they fear or hurt them the most, something about their past maybe. This only happens when the entity consideres it necessary.

Danny, Kazan, Caleb and Herman were watching the trial. They were also surprised Michael tried to spare the new girl. Of course the also saw how you rejected the offer. Michael came back to the other side of the camp fire with the rest of the killers, head pointing down.

“Hey Mike, you’re okay?” Danny asked him, his vice distant due to the ghost face mask. Michael didn’t answer he just looked at him. It’s not that they didn’t hear him talking tho, this time he just chose to remain silent and walk away. Danny was going to follow him but Caleb stopped him.

“Leave him be, give him some space…” Danny looked at him, then his head turned to look at Michael walking away. His eyes looked down behind his mask. He then decided to walk away too.

“Rejection can hurt.” Kazan said. His English still had a fainted Japanese accent.

“Sure does.” Herman added.

Michael made sure there was nobody with him. Once he realized he was all alone, his hands reached the bottom of his mask and pulled it up, reveling his face. Long blond and a little dirty hair covered part of his face. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your eyes, the way you walked with him while asking questions, your hair, your face…then he remembered those harsh words leaving your mouth. He wanted to understand, he needed to understand so bad why, why did you do that? He was trying to be nice, he usually isn’t. He knows he’s mean, selfish, he has a dark twisted heart, if he even had one. He find himself surprised by the choice of letting you go, to leave through the hatch. He lives for the hunt, the cat and mouse play, the adrenaline he feels when he kills. He’s no good and he knows it very well. On the other hand he felt hurt at your words…he felt…something was wrong with him, it must be right? He never experienced anything let along feelings. So he got to the conclusion that he was just offended by some words. You had offended him, yet here he is, thinking non stop of you.

Back to the others, Caleb was taking with Kazan.

“I think…I think he either likes her or she became his obsession. I mean, she seems like a nice girl, we didn’t cross paths yet. He’s the first one she goes against.” Said Caleb.

“Dark, twisted, small and very broken, but he has it.” Kazan abruptly said. Caleb wasn’t following.

“Excuse me?

“Soul.” Kazan explained. “His soul is dark, twisted, small and very broken, but he has one.” He finished. Caleb rises an eyebrow at Kazans words as to say he is not understanding him.

“Souls, I can see. Souls, I can sense.” Kazan said.

“It’s that so? How’s mine then?” Caleb teased.

“Baka…” It wasn’t rare at all for the Oni to speak Japanese now and then, he just told Caleb he’s a moron.

“Oh come on Kazan! You know my Japanese it’s not fresh!” Caleb protested then saw Kazan walking away.

Days turned into weeks in the realm and you were getting better at trials and so far killer you face killer you got to like you, not as much as Michael apparently. The things with him didn’t change unfortunately. Whenever you two go against each other he tries to give you hatch even if he didn’t sacrifice anyone. All the words that left your mouth were hate words and curse words. You decided if he was going to hate you you will hate him back. Tho deep down you didn’t like that idea. Now and then you catch yourself waking pass the limit of the barrier, just in case you see him. At this point it was like a dynamic. You would face him in a trial, get at his nerves, sometimes he would try to give the hatch anyway but you always complain. And that ends in painful death. You felt like he kills you slower than the rest on purpose. He won’t admit that he also walks pass the limit of the barrier, but in his case he does see you, he sees everything thing you say or do. Of course he does this intentionally. He doesn’t know why he keeps torturing you like he does, or even why he keeps torturing himself watching you knowing nothing will ever happen. Maybe all he wants is to make you hurt, because that way he gets to hear you begging him and saying his name so low.

Michael…please. Stop it.

A soft beg said in a soft voice. All you ever mean by this is for him to stop killing you like he does. He gets you sacrificed sometimes, but you rather get sacrificed a million times than to feel the cold of his kitchen knife stabbing you deep in your guts in the most slow way possible.

By now, you have met all the survivors and went against every killer. But you were closer to Laurie, Nea, Jill, Leon, Yun Jin, Feng, Yui, Oni, Ghostface, the Deathslinger, the Spirit and Wesker. It’s not like you didn’t like the rest of killers and survivors, you just were closer with some. You would often speak with Wesker to hear about genetic stuff, and then you would tease him about some random word you thought it was funny. He would look at you and say something like:

“Hey don’t push me new girl, you will not want me to go Michael!” He laughed. His sense of humor was evident not shared with yours.

“That was not funny Albert.” You said, he looked down.

“I apologize.”

“Rude..” You smiled when you heard Kazan saying that when Albert left.

This far you couldn’t really complain about your staying here. You wish things with Michael were different tho. There was this time when you faced The Doctor, and you were carrying a flashlight, you were getting good at flashlight saves, everything was laugh and fun. You blind him several times, and save your teammates a couple of other time too.

“Hey stop it with the flashlight, new girl! I can call you new girl too right?” Herman asked, annoyed but with a yet friendly tone. In response you pointed the flashlight to his face and granted permission to call you bay your nickname.

“Come on!!! Stop it! I’m warning ya!” He yeld.

“Or what doc?” You really weren’t taking him seriously. Next thing you know is you’re hooked then unhooked, and hooked again. The second time one of your teammates unhooked you, Herman tunneled you and killed you with his own hands.

When you came back to the camp fire you were laughing like a maniac. You really had a good time, not fully caring if you got tunneled or not. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t like that. Not.a.single.bit.

What happened next? The next trial you went on, you and Feng were the only ones left, and guess what? Your were going against Michael, again. This time was different, he actually down you with normal hits and hooked you, it was your first hook when Feng tried to rescue you. It’s not necessary to say Michael grabbed her before she could unhook you. He grabbed poorFeng by the neck and then looked at you, then back at Feng, she knew what was coming. He killed her with his own hand many times before, she didn’t mind at this point. But you? Oh boy you did care…

“Michael…” You say terrified. He tilted his head, he didn’t say a single word but you knew he meant to say “what?” He lift her from the ground and started to get his knife out.

“No please…Michael,” You knew he saw that trial with Herman, you were having fun with the flashlight, then you got tunneled, but you didn’t care, why did he? You could tell it was some type of pay back on Herman, because Feng was his survivor. But..you weren’t his…

Of course Michael was getting his pay back, he just wasn’t going to admit it to you. Pay back exactly for what? For the tunneling? Or maybe was cause he saw you laughing and having fun with Herman instead of him. He thinks he deserves that from you too. Or maybe not, by the way he kept killing you he didn’t doubt why you hated him so much. He just didn’t know what to do. Deep down he must feel that he has to hurt you bad because you hurted him, you kind of rejected him, and one part of him resented you for that. But his other part knows that giving you the worst death of the trial was the only way to get you to talk nicely to him…the way you beg…maybe he wanted so bad to hear you beg cause he couldn’t let himself beg you for attention, for that thing he felt only wfor his mother and his little baby sister, a little bit of love.

Him? Begging? Michael Myers never begged. Victims beg him for mercy, beg him to spare them. He wouldn’t allowed to do that himself.

“Please!!! PLEASE!! LET HER GO!” He didn’t listen any of your words, and the tip of his knife threatened to go deeper into Feng’s belly. You didn’t know what else to do, what else could you say.

“I’m sorry Michael! I’m so sorry, it’s my fault!” The desperate plea for Michael to stop for a second. He knew you didn’t mean to apologize for how you been treating each other. You meant that Feng death was your fault. He turned to look at you. For a second you thought you got it, he would stop. Reality hitter you like a truck when you heard Feng’s desperate cries of pain.

“NOO! PLEASE! FENG!” You cried and sobbed hard. “I’m so sorry Feng.” You apologized to your already dead friend laying on the cold snow of Ormond.

“Why…” Tears falling from your eyes like waterfalls. “Why are you doing this to me? Why I’m not even allowed to have friends…I need them Michael…” you continued.

He remained silent.

“I fucking hate you…your making it impossible for me to be here!” You reclaim.

Imposible for her? He thought. You were the one who put his world and all he knew this entire time upside down. If your harsh words hurt him, this hurt him even more. All of a sudden he got closer to you, and closer….to the point you two were face to face. He hit you with his knife while you were hooked. It was already too late when he noticed that the sharp blade of his knife had cut deep on your throat.

Your face of sudden realization he sliced your throat and your were bleeding out was too much for him. He closes his eyes every time he kills you, but this was too much. This felt way more painful that his normal killing mode. Tears running down your face as you tried to cover your bloody throat in pain. Not being able to tolerate seeing you die like this in so, so much pain, Michael left. He left you there alone to die in the cold.

The trial ended and Michael came back before you, stepping into the other side of the camp fire with the rest of the killers, he was met with Danny, Kazan and Herman.

“Bro…was cutting her throat open really necessary there?” Danny asked him, not really judging him, cause after all you got sacrificed and that what counted. Michael leaned back against the nearest tree there. He looked at Danny, and for the first time since he met you he decided that talking wasn’t going to hurt him that bad.

“No it wasn’t. I don’t know why I did that.” He answered Danny’s question.

Herman decided to join the conversation too.

“Are you okay Michael?” Herman asked. Michael didn’t reply what he expected. He looked at Herman, and for one second he felt ashamed of what he did to Feng Ming, but specifically why he did it. And then something he never thought he would say.

“I’m sorry about Feng Ming.” Herman opened his eyes more…if that was even possible.

Michael gathered himself from the tree and walk away. Kazan made a gesture to Danny. Follow him, that’s what he was tending to say. Needless to say Danny got the hint almost immediately. Danny stood up and quickly tried to put up with Michael.

On the camp fire side, desperate cries and tears came down your face. It turns out that, since Michael cutted your throat while you were still on hooked, when you came back you found out by Laurie’s words that a thin but long scar adorned you neck. You couldn’t believe it. You loved using necklaces and stuff, but now? You wouldn’t be able to use one without the scar sticked to your neck like a bad tattoo.

“I can’t believe this…” You cried. You were so weak that Laurie was holding you by your left arm as Rebecca told you to go to the medical support room, which it was only another part of the camp fire, but with the few things Rebecca could gathered around to help, heal and examine other’s wounds.

“It’s ok girl…we got you.” Laurie reaffirmed. You wouldn’t stop crying. Rebecca was walking in front of you, and Laurie still by your side. You heard a distant “Michael wait!” You recognized that voice immediately.

Ghostface…Danny. You thought. You knew He was close with Michael so you figured out he must be with him.

If I see him I’ll kill him. You thought to yourself. Of course you knew the odds of actually killing a Killer were none, %0. But this time Michael has gone too far and now all you wanna do is tell him how bad he has hurt you. Was he even going to react at your words? Probably not. You turn to look at your left were the barrier was, and you were right. Ghostface was trying to keep up the pace walking Michael had. Laurie seemed to notice you notice Michael on the other side, and gesture to Rebecca to stay with you for a moment.

“Hey, Michael…HEY!” She spoke caughting his attention. Michael stopped and turned to look at Laurie as she got closer and closer to the barrier.

“What’s your deal with her?! You went too far this time! She came back crying and sobbing like an animal!” Michael didn’t react to her words, which only made you angrier. You stepped closer to the barrier as well next to Laurie, this time you were beyond hurt.

“Why…? Why you hate me su much?!” That’s all you could ask.

Michael looked at you but to he was showing no emotions, and you were really starting to suspect it was not due to his mask, you truly believed he hates you for something you couldn’t completely understand.

“You know what? Fuck it I’m done trying to talk to you and to ask-no, beg you to speak back to me and tell me what I did wrong…” tears running down your face.

Michael saw you crying, leaning against Laurie for help. The effort you did in your last trial with him was too much to handle for your little frame. Besides, the feeling of getting your throat cut open was awful. His eyes looked down behind his mask, he couldn’t stand seeing you like this. The sound of your cries and sobbing were tearing through his chest, straight to his heart, if he even had one. He didn’t put a name to what he was feeling and experience when you were with him or near him, all he knew was death, blood and pain. He couldn’t afford to feel anything else…right? With that in mind he turned around and walk away silently.

“Yeah, walk away…like you always do.” You said in a low tone. Throat still hurting for the previous abused it received. He pretend no to listen to what you say. He couldn’t help but feel how something inside started to break.

Michael wondered if the entity was going to do something about this eventually. Little did he know that in reality, the entity was amazed by you and how you treated Michael the first time you met him. Needless to say, that the entity knew how both of you felt for each other. And the only reason she was going to allow what she was going to do, was because she knew both, you and Michael, would react eventually and arrange the differences between you two.

The entity had a plan.

Michael kept stalking you from the dark the rest of the night, that’s how he found out you wanted a choker to cover up the nasty scar. He wasn’t alone tho, Danny was with him. “Ahh…I really would like a choker.” Those were your exact words.

“You heard that Mike?” Danny asked looking at him, smiling behind his mask. Michael nodded.

“I..want to apologize..for..everything I did to her.” Michael said, looking down, eyes to coward to look at you complaining about the scar, a scar he gave you.

“Hey! Now we’re talking!” Danny’s voice a little bit enthusiastic. “How you plan on doing that? I don’t think by just saying that she will even consider to forgive you man…”

“I’ve got an idea…” Michael looked at Danny, then proceeded to whisper in his covered ear what he was going to do.

“It sounds great Mike! You’ll will need lots of paper and fabric. Maybe your mask supplies might work that thing as well!” Danny said looking at your throat’s scar.

“I’m going to Haddonfield.” And with That Michael made his way to his own home town.

Michael spent all night on Haddonfield working on something to give you as for an apology. On the other hand, you didn’t do much, you didn’t had trials that day, until like 6 o’clock you spent your time talking with Kazan, and Danny.

“I don’t like my scar…”

“Scars are sings of fight, if you survive fights it means your strong, therefor scars shows strength.” Kazan spoke.

“I agree with this big red guy here.” Danny added.

“I guess your right guys.”

Somewhere meters away from you, on the killer side, Evan and Caleb were sharing a interesting conversation. You see, Evan since he’s been here long before most of the killers he can speak with the entity sometimes.

“So…your telling me the entity’s plan is basically hope for the best? There’s no way we can know how he will react to it. He has never been punished before!” Caleb said.

“We gotta trust her plan Caleb.” Evan said, his gaze looking up where the entity is supposed to be.

“I hope she don’t do wrong.”

“She never does, Caleb. She never does.”

Time passed and you keep talking with Kazan and Danny from your side of the camp. Danny telling you something about his camera you didn’t quite catch the meaning. It was so specific and technical you didn’t even try to understand it. Then you asked Kazan to tell you everything he knew about the Samurai. You’ve always loved Japanese culture, you wanted to go someday to japan too.

“I would have loved to travel to Japan…” Your voice flooded with sadness.

“It’s so beautiful…my country…I don’t doubt you would have love it.” Kazan replays.

You were so focused on your conversation with Kazan and Danny that you didn’t notice Michael joining them. When you saw him all the joy on your face instantly disappeared. It’s like you couldn’t had one minute alone, not even a day! Kazan and Danny didn’t understand your sudden change of mood.

“What the hell do you want now?” You said, eyes wouldn’t dare to leave that white mask of his.

Both Kazan and Danny looked at each other, raised their shoulders until they looked behind themselves.

“Guys, can we move somewhere else please? I don’t have time nor the energy to deal with this freak.” You said looking dead to Michael’s eyes. Danny examined Michael for a moment and noticed something in his right hand.

“New girl…” Danny looked at you.

“What??” You already sounded pissed.

“Please, just give him a moment…” He said. It was the first time you heard The Ghostface say “please”, so for the sake of it you listed.

Michael stepped closer to the barrier, Danny and Kazan gave him space so his now was positioned in the middle. He reached his right hand to the edge of the barrier beneath him and tossed something to your side. You looked at it confused.

“I don’t get it, the hell do you want?!” You yeld at him.

Michael looks down at the object then back up at you. He wanted you to grab it. You sigh ruin discomfort as you bent down to grab it. Still didn’t catching what it was. All you knew it was soft to the touch.

“And I’m still don’t getting it, maybe I’m just stupid or perhaps you should fucking talk to me already!!” You were getting angrier every minute.

“I think you should open it..” Kazan has an idea of what could it been, you said earlier that you hated your scar, so he though maybe it was a necklace. You looked at Danny for his opinion too. He just nodded.

“Agh!! The things I do for you guys…” You said, your voice still angry. Michael couldn’t help but to feel bad you wanted to spend time with them but not with him.

Your eyes filled with anger when you saw this thing was a choker, and you didn’t even know why. Deep down you wanted to forgive him, you just couldn’t seem to find a reason.

“Sorry.” A single word scaped Michael’s mouth. It was the first time he ever spoke to you. Yet you felt it wasn’t enough. This wasn’t a worthy apology.

“Sorry? SORRY?! That’s all you could came up with?

“New girl, I think you shou-“ You didn’t let Danny finish.

“Your pathetic! Your fucking pathetic you hear me? I can’t believe I told you I loved your movies. How I regret that, I regret being nice to you..” You were angry as ever.

The bad treat continued, once, twice..you couldn’t count how many bad, nasty and hurting things you said to him.

“Childish!”

“Coward!”

“Fuckin evil!!”

“I hope you die fucking bastard, I want you dead!”

You tossed back the choker to the other side in contempt, and when you finished something scaped your mouth. Something that even in the most agitated of situations you wouldn’t even think of saying.

“Your mom was a fucking whore, a filthy slut. I bet she didn’t even wanted to have you in the first place!! Why don’t you just leave me alone, damn it!” You yelled at him hitting the invisible barrier that separated you from him and your friend killers. You knew thanks to the movie his mom used to be a stripper. His heart skipped a bit when you said that. Now he knew for sure he had a heart.

If he was hurt before now he was torn to pieces. But what torn apart his heart the most was knowing that, despite what you had just said, what he felt for you didn’t change a damn bit. With no more further a do, he proceeded to walk away. Danny followed him as usual, trying to get him to stay.

“Come on Mike! Don’t leave.” He yelled. “You went way too far kid…Kazan, looked at the choker.” He continued, he notice something written inside the choker, you just hadn’t seen it. Kazan took the little fabric from the dirty ground, wipped of the dirt and read it. Danny far gone by now.

“Kazan…? What does it say?” You asked him.

“You made me human…” This words stabbed you right in your chest. You knew very well the pain of getting stabbed, but this? This can’t be compared.

You felt awful. Why did you said that? It’s not like you even meant it. You felt your eyes filling with tears again at what you just said to him. All alone you thought that hurting him back the way he’d hurt you would make you feel better. But it didn’t. It just made you feel worse. Like you had no soul.

“I…I really messed up here, didn’t i? Kazan?” You looked at his red Oni mask.

“I’m afraid you did…” He confessed.

“Oh my god…what did I do?” You tried to see if you could find Michael with your eyes from your side of the camp. What you didn’t know was that the moment Michael tossed you the choker he made the entity put to work her own plan. You could hear a distant voice, again it was Danny.

“Hey, Mike! Hey!! Michael!” Danny exclaimed, yet no answer from Michael. Danny’s exclamations for Michael became more and more audible. Something was wrong, you knew it, you could feel it. You ran in direction of Danny’s voice.

“Dude wake up! Michael!” Danny kept saying. You got there panting and sweating. Kazan followed a little bit after.

“What’s wrong with him?” You asked.

“I don’t know, he was like this when I catch up with him.”

You could see his body was struggling. His left hand holding his knife, knukles white as milk. His breathing could be heard from where you were. He was getting trouble to breathe. Soft pants and groans suddenly left his mouth too. He sounded like he was in pain, but physically he looked fine. No blood or sings of injuries. It take you a lot of effort to notice through his eyes of his mask that his real eyes were glued shut and a few tears running down.

“Oh my god…his eyes! Look at his eyes.” You told Danny.

“He’s crying!” Danny said surprised.

“Something’s wrong with him. Something’s wrong with him!” You exclaimed. His groans and pants became louder.

“Ahh agh…” Michael complained. Hearing him like this putted you on desperate mode. You tried hitting the barrier unsuccessfully, even kicked it several times.

“Please let in through!” You yelled at the sky, knowing the entity will hear you.

“Do something, guys. Help him! I can’t do anything from here!”

Danny tried to shake his body. No responce. Kazan snaked his body even harder. Again, no response. You noticed some pamphlets in the ground near his boots. You pointed this out to Danny and Kazan. It didn’t took you long to realize that those were her mother’s stripper pamphlets. So did Ghostface and Oni.

“He’s being punished…” Kazan said.

“What? Why?!” You cried. “It’s because of the choker?” You asked.

“Maybe, we don’t know.” Danny spoke.

“No! Please, it’s not his fault it’s mine! I’m the one who should be punished. Please!” You begged to the entity. At this point Michael had his head looking up. Grantings of pain still scaped his mouth.

“No Michael, Michael…listen to me!” You looked at his poor suffering form. “I was wrong. I was wrong! All of this wasn’t your fault. I overreacted, okay? And your mom? Your mom was a beautiful person. She did everything she could for you and both your sisters! I was wrong Michael. I’m so sorry…so so sorry! I didn’t mean anything of this to happen…” You sobbed while explaining yourself. Michael managed to look down at you.

Desperation taking over your body, you punched and kicked the barrier. Demanding the entity to let you in just this once.

“Please!! Please, i-I’ll do anything!” You begged her.

From the distant, Caleb and Evan could hear your screams. They know what was already happening, that’s why the decided that not interfering was the best option. Nothing could have prepared the people on this realm for what was about to happen. Your hands banging the barrier were suddenly met with grass and dirt. You fall, that was for sure. But you had fallen into the other side of the camp. To everyone’s surprise, there was no barrier separating both camps anymore.

“Did just the barrier…” Caleb asked Evan. “What did just the entity do?”

“Allowing what was not allowed.” Evan sounded happy. The entity’s plan was working.

You didn’t have time to enjoy your new freedom nor did you killer friends. As soon you got up you went straight to Michael. Holding him by his broad shoulders, you reassured him.

“I’m here Michael! I’m here. Please come back to me.” You begged him, this time was different. You noticed his hands still struggling and clenched. You grabbed the hand that was holding the knife to see if you could easy some of that tension. Worried eyes examining his mask to catch any sign that he was okay.

Suddenly his struggling stopped and his head went down. Your hands fly up to grab his masked face only to be met by his free hand around your neck, squeezing tightly.

“Dude what are you doing?!” Danny yelled.

“Michael, it-it’s me…” Your air leaving your lungs. His hand dangerously tight around your neck. Threatening to break it right there.

“Judith…” He growled. The entity no longer had him seeing the posters of his stripper mother, his school bullies or his stepfather. Now he was having living flashbacks of his older sister, Judith.

“N-no, Michael please, y-you know me…” It was getting hard for you to speak due to the lack of oxygen.

“Don’t speak.” His hand squeezing harder. “I hate you.” The flashbacks of his selfish sister were really getting to him. It all was so real to him that without noticing he was getting his knife near your belly again.

“Dude-dude, if you killer her she’s not coming back, she’s it coming back Michael!” Danny said trying his best to help you. Michael looked at him for one second or two, then he continued to reach for your belly. In a desperate measure, Danny took off his ghostface mask and grabbed Michael’s hand that was holding his signature kitchen knife.

“Mike, who am i?” Danny asked. Another desperate attempt to make him come back to himself.

“L-loomis.” Michael growled at him.

“No, Michael you know me, come on! Who am i? He asked again.

“D-danny..Danny.” Michael said. You could see the tears in his eyes. He was fighting this.

“Good! Good, now, who is she? You got this you know her.” Danny cheered him up. Michael looked at you, eyebrows frowned.

“J-j…Judidth.”

“No..” You left out a sight. You cried even harder when you noticed Michael raising the knife up.

“Dude stop!!” Danny yelled again, this time ready to do something about it but Kazan had to hold him down.

“Let me go Kazan!”

“You’re only going to make it worst.” He stated, holding Danny down.

“Michael..” You sobbed. You prepared yourself when he got ready to stab you. One final stab, and you were going to see dark…fall to eternal sleep. One last thing scaped your mouth before closing your eyes.

“I love you, Michael Myers…” it was low, you hadn’t much air left. But you didn’t want to leave this world without letting him know this. You glue shut your eyes one last time to embrace his final stab. You even heard Danny screaming “Stop!! Stop it!!!” You were ready now, waiting patiently for your inevitable fate. You flinched your eyes anticipating the blade, but the blade cutted through nothing. You opened your eyes. Somehow you succeeded to get Micheal back. The entity’s plan had worked without you even noticing. He let you fell to the ground so as he did with his knife. Danny and Kazan ran to help you get up. You tried to reach for Michael’s arms but he rejected your touch.

“No…i-i” That was all he could say.

“It’s not your fault Michael.” You assure him. But he just took off leaving the three of you there. He wasn’t the only one afraid to keep touching you it appear. Danny hand left your arm and Kazan took a step back. You gave them a “I’m not following you guys” look.

“It’s just that…this barrier thing, never happened before. We never touched you before, none other than to kill you ir sacrifice you…” Danny spoke for both of them, Kazan and himself.

You reached your hand to Danny’s uncovered face, and cupped it in your warmth. He embrace it immediately. Closing his eyes and smiling.

“You look better with the mask off.” You laughed, he did the same.

“If you say so…”

“Kazan…come here!” You told him with opened arms. He seemed hesitant at first.

“Come…” You insisted, smiling.

“Hug?” He asked.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. The tenderness in his hug cought you by surprise for such a big and buffed man like him.

You stayed like that for a few minutes until Michael was the topic of conversation again. You asked Danny where he might have gone.

“I think I know where..” He said.

The single Street and the kind of trees in the block gave the map away very fast. You were again on Haddonfield.

“I know he sometimes comes here to make mask or whenever he feels bad or angry…I don’t know which house it’s his house tho.” Danny explained.

“Oh don’t worry I know which one is it.” You looked at his still uncovered face.

“Okay, good luck New Girl…if he doesn’t speak right away you should come back later.” He said ready to leave when you said one last thing to him.

“You know Danny…your not that bad after all.” It was the first time he heard you call him by his real name, it always had been “hey ghost!” Or “Ghostie!” It felt good hearing that coming from someone he considered a friend.

“You know y/n…Michael wasn’t wrong after all.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You did made us human after all.” You smiled at his statement then he walks back to the camp.

Once you reach Michael’s house you stepped in. Thinking to yourself he must be upstairs you went up. There was only one room with its door opened. Michael must be in there. You were reaching the end of the stairs, walking as slowly as possible to not give your self away. The house wasn’t helping much tho, with each step you made the wood underneath you cracked. He wasn’t unnoticed to the sound he thought perhaps was the wind since he had the windows open. Your small frame compared to his made a silhouette on his door frame.

Once inside his room you could see he had fully decorated its walls with handmade masks he had done himself. Just like in the movie, but that was on the prison cell instead of his real room. You saw him sat in a chair near a wooden desk. His mask still on, his head was down. His chest moving up and down.

"Michael…" You soft voice soothed his ears. He looked at his left, letting you know he knew you were there. "I'm not here to fight you. Not anymore." You said. Michael didn't react. His breathing sounded soft. Him not having any type of reaction made you move closer to him, until you were besides him. Your left hand resting on his right shoulder. Your eyes wondering the masks hanged on the wall in front of you.

"They are beautiful. You know that?" You told him giving his right shoulder little masages. He looked up to contemplate them. You didn't know how you went from looking masks to have him face to face again and your back pressed yo the wall. By now you were expecting nothing less than a kiss. He grabbed you by both your shoulders and lowered his head until it was pressed against your left collarbone.

This is not a kiss. You thought.

Soft sobs could be heard behind his mask, they were muffled by the same, but you were able to hear them. Then suddenly, he spoke again.

“I’m so…so sorry.” Your heart melted at his words and you couldn’t resist but to hold him tight against your little chest compared to his. More muffled sobs coming from Him.

“It’s okay…I’m the one that should be apologizing.” You replied back.

“You already did.” He lift his head to look at you.

You felt the urge to know how he looked behind that mask. What was he hiding. You didn’t have to take out his mask to know he was beautiful. Took your hand move to the edge of it. Michael moved his head back, hesistant.

“Let me see you Mike.” Hearing you calling him Mike was all he needed.

Pulling the mask up with little effort was necessary to take it off. And just as you spectated, he has long blond curly hair, blueish eyes a big, but yet straight nose, and plump heart shaped lips. A beautiful face, just as you thought. You cupped his face with your hands just as you did with Danny.

“You’re beautiful Michael.” Your voice like a sweet whisper. He touched your lips with his thumb, caressing them like it was a newly found treasure. His treasure.

The feeling of his chapped lips on yours was inevitable. Tho he seemed to be the first to started it, as soon as he started he wanted to finish, scared you wouldn’t like it. But you insisted to kiss him longer. You wanted more. It didn’t matter that his lips were chapped. Eventually you two separated to get some air.

“You’re beautiful.” You reassured him again. He put his forehead against yours.

“And you’re the most beautiful human I ever seen.” He replied, voice deep and low. “Y/n?” He added.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.” He finally said it. Finally admitted it and gave it a name.

A little time went by and now you were sitting on his lap seeing how he made masks. Your left arm wrapped around his shoulders for support.

“So, I put more glue over here and…we are done.” He was showing you how he made his masks.

“This seems interesting to make.” You replied.

“Are you sure you never done this before?” His mouth forming a little smile. Not fully believing you never done a paper mask before.

“Oh well…you caught me. I did. But a like to see you make them.” You said honestly.

“How cute.” Your heart flinched at his words and your cheeks flushed. “I like it when you flush”

“Stop it Michael!” You gave him a little tug on his coverall.

“Never.” He said looking into your eyes and give your nose a quick kiss.

You spent the rest of the night like this, laughing your lungs out and doing disasters with his glue.

That night loud voices were heard at Haddonfield. The difference this time was that Michael wasn’t alone, he had the best company he could’ve asked for.

I hope you enjoyed this! Sorry if there’s misspellings, English it’s not my mother language, have mercy please 🥹 I’m open to requests!!

[soft-and-bitter]

We Can Last Forever

Mafia!Bucky x Ex!Reader

You turn to an old flame in a moment of desperation. Bucky takes full advantage of the situation to bargain for something he's wanted as soon as he set eyes on you.

Word Count: 1853

Warning(s): swearing, descriptions drug use and sexual situations

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving some feedback, thanks! ❤

M A S T E R L I S T

"Look who we have here," he murmured, smirking. There wasn't a trace of worry in his tone, nor on his handsome face. And for reasons you couldn't quite grasp, these facts only served to elevate your own stress, the urgency of the situation now clearer than ever.

Bucky was your last resort.

"Hi," you greeted. Despite the sheer brevity involved, even you could hear how unsure you sounded, but it was just as well; you were winging this after all, what with all your options up in flames. On the other hand, you also couldn't fuck this up either, because what else would you come up with if this didn't work out?

With a deep breath, you tried again. "Hi, Bucky. I'm sorry this is so last minute."

He tilted his head, the black turtleneck he wore accentuating the steep line of his jaw. "It wouldn't have been if you'd called ahead of time. Oh, wait," he said, lip curling, "you got rid of my number from your phone. How could I have ever forgotten?"

You looked away, both hands gripping your phone behind your purse. Rather than place it next to you on the plush sofa, you'd opted to set it on your lap. Maybe you saw it as a barrier, however meagre, just something other than the distance that separated you from Bucky. For protection? But it was you who had sought him out, not the other way around.

There was no stilling your frantic thoughts, all those contradictions and uncertainties colliding against each other to form some ugly kaleidoscope of confusion in your head. Several stories below, the club was at the height of its frenzy, the bass throbbing faintly against the walls of Bucky's office, a cursed soundtrack to score the situation you were in, with no promise it was ending anytime soon.

"I . . . it felt like the right thing to do at the time," you tried explaining, still clutching your phone tightly. "I wasn`t ready to deal with the truth."

He chuckled softly. "Yet here you are," he said, each word sliding past his lips in a slow drawl. "I guess there's no keeping me out of your life after all, despite that text of yours."

You turned your head to look back up at him again. Bucky was leaning against his expansive chrome and glass desk, long fingers curled around the edges. His jet-black suit was tailored within an inch of its life; one of his cufflinks winking at you playfully, as if amused by your discomfort and panic.

"You're right, I guess I can't."

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Well, it is what it is. Now tell me why you're here."

Here was your moment, your golden opportunity. You didn't shy away from the details. Why would you when everything you described was all part of his sordid world, the drugs and the money owed, the nefarious parties involved? And so you laid it all out before him like a spread made up of your family's suffering: stressed and overworked, David had gone back to an old habit his dirt bag of an uncle had first introduced him to more than a decade ago. One hit after another, then another, and now your brother—the smarter of the two, in your opinion, and certainly the more successful—was now in so much debt he'd brought up the possibility of selling your mom's home for cash.

Bucky didn't react when you told him how much you needed to borrow. That soothed your nerves somewhat; if he wasn't fazed by the amount, then maybe he'd be more willing to part with his money.

You hoped.

"We'll have the money back in your hands before you even get a chance to miss it," you assured with a smile you hoped was blinding enough for Bucky. "David just has to get through this hump, but once he does, everything will be fine."

Just for a moment you wondered whose worries you were really trying to assuage—Bucky's or yours? Because paying off David's dealer was one thing, but your brother had also promised to check into rehab asap. Yet even with his high-paying FAANG job in Silicon Valley, he had already blown through his savings, together with any credit he'd been approved for. To top it all off, the massive bonus he kept harping on about wouldn't get paid out until the end of the year. You yourself had funnelled whatever money you could spare to help his cause. Where the hell would the money come from until then?

Bucky sighed audibly, pulling you out of your thoughts. "You haven't exactly explained why I should help you in the first place," he said.

He wasn't wrong, you realized. And really, it was what you`d hoped to avoid all along. "Listen, I know you probably won't believe me when I say this, but . . . I guess I thought we had something special going on between us. Special enough that I felt I could turn to you."

"You're right, I don't believe you," he confirmed, shaking his head. "Try harder, won't you?"

You stared up at him, a furrow between your brows. "It's the truth, Bucky. I was scared, okay? And let's face it: you knew I'd be, didn't you? Otherwise you would've told me from the start what the hell you really were."

He didn't respond to that right away. In the silence that ensued, with the club's bass pounding at the same speed as your heartbeat, you began to doubt yourself. Couldn't you have handled that with a little more finesse? What if Bucky was offended by your response that he decided he was going to turn you away?

When he finally spoke, it was with an edge of mockery and triumph in his voice. "Just so we're clear: you've come to ask a crime lord to help you when the very fact of me being one had you running off in the first place."

"I couldn't think of anyone else to go to."

Bucky scoffed. "I sure hope the irony's not lost on you."

The smile you offered him was sardonic at best. "Believe me, it's not."

Just when you were convinced that you'd screwed this up entirely, Bucky pushed himself off the edge of his desk and moved towards you, closing the distance. Neon blue strobe lights flashed through the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the club, casting otherworldly shadows across his face as he stalked nearer. You didn't turn your head to watch when he dropped into the sofa next to you, stretching his arms wide across the headrest. His fingers feathered against one of your shoulder blades.

From the corner of your eye you watched as he tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, sighing once again. "If you want my help, you'll comply with whatever I set out for you," he said.

"Like what?"

You could feel his gaze on you. "For starters, I'd like a kiss."

"Are you serious? Now?"

"Now," he echoed.

"And that's it?"

He gave a light shrug. "The night's still young. We'll just have to see how things go."

"But why?"

"Why not?" he countered, fingers drumming against the headrest. "Besides, you're the one who thought there was something special between us. Let's see what's left."

For a moment, you hesitated. Bucky's request was simple, but that was where the uncertainty lay. There was something between the two of you, even now, even after you left him in the lurch, that it was enough for you to reach out to him. You were doubtful a kiss would prove that to him, though.

There had been so much more you'd done with him, after all.

"Well?"

You studied his face. His expression was still passive, but curiosity shone bright in his eyes. What choice did you have? David was counting on you now, his own fear and panic elevating your own. With a tilt of your head you leaned forward, eyes falling closed, as you caught Bucky's lips with yours.

Bucky didn't react at first, and you nearly stopped, too shy and uncertain to entertain the possibility of being unwanted, that this was just a cheap way for him to get back at you. But then his lips moved against yours, bold and intentional; when he coaxed your mouth opened and his tongue slid past your teeth, you realized.

He still wanted you.

Both your phone and your purse dropped somewhere below you as one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders tightly. Bucky drew you in deeper, his hold fierce, lips desperate and bruising, pulling you into a well of memories: his naked body against yours, mouth lingering on intimate spots that made you cry out in ecstasy, the sweet words he'd whispered in your ear while you came down from your high. Let me give you more. Let me give you everything. You just have to stay. Can you do that? For me?

His lips latched onto the side of your neck as you lost yourself further in his touch, fingers tangled in his dark hair, while his large hand fanned across your breast—

Your phone was like a grenade going off. You jerked back in panic, gasping for breath while the familiar melody on your device blared throughout the room. It was Bucky who got to it first.

"How fitting," he said, turning your phone around so you could see the screen. "It's your brother."

Heart hammering in your chest, you didn't move at first.

"Go ahead, answer it," he ordered, holding out your phone to you. "Tell David the money will be wired to his account in less than thirty and he's got you to thank for this."

His words were like a bucket of cold water flung at your face. With sudden clarity you remembered why you'd come here in the first place, and it wasn't to re-ignite things with an old flame. You needed Bucky's help, and, to your immense relief, he was giving it to you.

When you accepted your brother's call you cut straight to the chase, telling him of the lifeline Bucky was throwing his way. The only one, you emphasized, hanging up before he could profess any gratitude. David had work to do, but you'd done your part. Your mom would get to keep her house, just like she deserved to.

You looked at Bucky. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to my family."

He smirked at you, his hair now tousled thanks to your doing. "Don't thank me just yet, sweetheart. We're not quite done, are we?"

During the call one of his hands had crept along the inside of your thigh. It remained there, his hold entirely too tight and too hot, even through the fabric of your slacks. When Bucky spoke, you didn't miss the raw desire in his voice, the predatory anticipation that lingered on his smirk.

"We'll finally finish what we started, sweetheart. Just like we were always meant to."

Jimin's "Like Crazy" had me in such a chokehold when I first listened to it that it inspired this whole damn story; it's the song I imagined blasting down in the club while Reader haggles with Bucky. Hope you guys enjoyed it!

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Ineffable Con Event with Rob Wilkins 2023 - SUMMARY

There will be Ineffable Con 4 this year - online! :) in October - link here :). Peter Anderson will join to talk about the Opening Titles! ❤ :). The Ineffable Cons if you haven't experienced are absolutely brilliant. Here is my recap of the second one in 2020, and here of the third one in 2021 :) (our wonderful organiser Bethany and Rachael got married in 2022 so there was no con but they had an ineffable themed wedding ❤! :)).

There is a charity auction for Alzheimer Research UK with Good Omens goodies Rob donated: Ineffable Crew Hoodie, Ineffable hat, Terry's biography signed by Rob, Good Omens book signed by David Tennant, Michael Sheen and Jon Hamm, and Good Omens bag (it's the wrap bag you could have seen cast posting :))

I loved this exchange :D ❤ -- Rob: You can ask me anything. -- What happens in Good Omens Season 2? -- Rob: Oh, I walked right into that one :).

Terry's favourite curse word: bugger

In Season 2 there will appear the Good Omens book first edition - a character who is not Aziraphale will be taking it from the shelf

Rob loved talking with David Tennant about the Dragon Con where where there was more Crowley's than Doctors

Rob about S2: You will love it and it will break your heart in equal measures. 👀👀👀👀

Rob loves the Ineffable fandom :)❤.

Rob showed us:

Crowley's Devon watch from S1 and his new watch from S2 (Rob was wearing it :)) Crowley's Valentino glasses, Crowley's present glasses from S2 and some ?historic? Crowley glasses with the removable dark parts NIAT RUC sign and War's Ducatti, he has all the vehicles from Season 1 - and not the Bentley (Mary, she is still owned by the owner), but another Bentley. A big box with Agnes Nutter doll made for a BBC showcase exhibition that you press a button and get a prophecy. Connected to Season 2 - a signed mandoline by Neil. A new a Collen Doran painting for the Good Omens Graphic Novel - In The Beginning The Crowley painting by 'Leonardo da Vinci' (Paul Kidby) And also painting by 'Leonardo da Vinci' connected to Season 2 with a bird on the mountain - perhaps the scene with the bird sharpening it's beak will be there? :)❤

[waltz-malice]

no fancy format but i did happen to write a short david study last night before the sleep demons claimed me Heh.

obviously be wary of implied spoilers, also there's a brief moment of violence there too, and i also mention mai very vaguely at some point!

writing as well as ao3 link below the cut!

If David had to choose a single object he loathed more than any other, he would have to say mirrors. Sure, there was the go-to reason of having to look himself in the eye every time he passed by one, but that was so superficial at first glance. Just like him, haha.

Really, there were quite a few things he could list off about why he despises mirrors. In a physical sense, he’d grown to dread getting up in the morning and meticulously picking apart his appearance, making himself seemingly perfect to the audience he’d be performing in front of. Yes, performing, like an actor, center-stage — or more like a jester dancing for a fool’s pay of laughter alone.

David had spent countless hours staring into his own reflection, disgusted by the man he saw, the man he’d become. What had anyone ever seen in him? What had she seen in him? It didn’t matter, none of it did; it was all gone down the drain, anyway. Whatever he’d once been forgiven for now meant nothing.

Returning to mirrors, he supposed there was a metaphorical aspect to it as well. Seeing himself in others had never been a good sign for David, as he likely came to have a certain disdain for those people as well, based on what exactly he saw. Cynicism and hiding behind a mask nearly always made him want to see those people fall, to sabotage them and ‘free’ them by letting the world really know what a real fraud they were.

Optimism, true and pure unadulterated optimism like the one he portrayed in his dedicated persona, though? The initial reaction would be disbelief, skepticism, maybe a bit of envy — then, surprisingly enough, respect. He would even be endeared to such a naive, brute force in such a lost world, because deep down, he knew he’d be happier if he could have some of that hope for himself.

If David could just look at the world with some form of hope, to think that any of this could somehow, someday get better… it would be nothing short of a miracle, by this point. Still, he found himself wanting to look to such a guiding light, to follow it like he was supposed to be followed himself.

Maybe if he could be forgiven by something so bright, so good, he could forgive himself. At least, that had been his thought process.

But now, as David stared at the gruesome mess his manicured demeanor had become, he felt no remorse for the way his hopes had fallen flat. He should’ve known from the start, anyway. Nothing, nobody, no force on earth could undo the fact he was worthless, and it was his own self-inflicted torture to keep trying for better days like this.

In the back of his mind, he could hear a familiar, cheery voice reassuring him that he had worth, that he’d see a happier tomorrow, that he’d smile without feeling bile rise up his throat from the fake measures taken. He sees them in the mirror, red hair, a wide grin, eyes that shine like the sun…

David feels sick, his ears ringing as he pulls his fist back, and before he can even think about the mess he’d have to clean up later, he punches through the glass altogether. A sharp pain shoots through his knuckle and up his arm, the mirror’s shards embedded in his skin as crimson drips down onto the clean, white marble of the countertop, but even as he recoils and curses, he can barely feel it.

Numb. All of it is just numb at this point, too repetitive to elicit a proper reaction from. And this is why David can’t bring himself to look in the mirror.

or, the ao3 link here!

[i-am-the-oyster]

I was tagged by @notgrungybitchin and @javelinbk thanks!

Tagging five people I want to get to know better: @jarsfullofstarrs, @thecoleopterawithana, @royaltyisshe64, @beatlepaul4ever, @tavolgisvist

Three ships:

So I never got into fandom and shipping, but now that I've been around here for a while I can recognise that there were other pairs I've had similar (though much less intense) feelings about. The first one the comes to mind is Poe/Finn from The Last Jedi (a curse on the houses of everyone who ruined Finn in later movies). I was also a big fan of Xena/Gabrielle, and Mulder/Scully back in the day.

First ship:

Probably Madelyn/David (from Moonlighting).

Last song:

(side-note: You're So Vain is a great song @notgrungybitchin, did you know Klaus Voorman plays bass on it?)

My last listened to song was I Should Have Known Better.

Last TV Show:

I really haven't been watching much TV. But I did rewatch the Elijah Wood Dirk Gently at some point this year.

Currently watching:

I am a bear of very little brain at the moment, and <whispers> for some reason my fatigued brain loves clips of TV shows where doctors remove cysts. My only comfort is the view counts. I'm clearly not alone.

Currently reading:

Yes to Heart of Glass by @javelinbk! I'm also slowly working my way through The McCartney Legacy.

Currently eating:

Gonna have a stir fry in a few minutes

Currently craving:

Coffee. It triggers migraines for me now, and I have a sad about it.

[hottempura]

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Tales of the Librarian

Kyojuro cracked open the door slowly. The room inside was dark and a small candle was lit on a desk in the middle of the room. A young woman quickly stood up smiling at him.

“Hello, good evening, how can I help you?” She beckoned him closer and lit the other candle to lighten the darkness.

“Hello, my name is Rengoku Kyojuro the flame hashira! I’m here on Master Ubuyashiki’s behalf.” His voice was loud and booming. His smile lessened ever so slightly at the slight cringe to her features. She quickly righted her expression.

“Yes, yes. Do you have the list?”

“I’m supposed to speak to the head librarian.” He shuffled uncomfortably. Tengen, who usually got Ubuyashiki’s books, said the librarian was an old man. Tengen also said, he’d only ever seen the old man and a young boy tending to the library. The young lady before him was unaccounted for. She reached out and touched his shoulder after noticing his gathering tension.

“Akasaka has fallen ill. I’m his assistant, usually you guys come at night and master sends me home before dusk.” His body relaxed. Nodding, he reached into his pocket to hand her the list.

“He’s a smart man then.”

“Yes, with our knowledge comes some responsibility.” She gently took the list out of his open palm to unfold it. Biting her lip in thought, she sat down again to read it. Just then a boy came around the corner with a lantern and a cart stacked high with books. He couldn’t have been older than 16. He raised the lantern up in Kyojuro’s direction.

“You’re not the usual slayer.” The boy walked around the desk to stand protectively in front of his companion. With his arms crossed, he pouted at Kyojuro’s never changing expression. She interrupted the conversation before either could speak.

“There’s two at the bottom I don’t have ready yet. Do you happen to know if Ubuyashiki would mind them not in braille?” Kyojuro tilted his head in thought, Tengen hadn’t given him any detail. Just told him to pick up the books.

“Braille? What’s that?” He’d never figured how Ubuyashiki read. He assumed someone read to him. The boy laughed at his ignorance. She shoved him lightly from behind.

“David, don’t be rude! Not everyone can know everything Braille is… well it might be easier to show you.” She tucked the list into the pocket of her jacket. It was two sizes too big, but an expensive fabric. She walked around the desk.

“If you’re taking him to the back room, just know I haven’t cleaned it yet.” David sat down in her chair blushing from his lashing.

“That’s alright. Come, Rengoku. You’ll have to watch your step.” She grabbed his hand and the lantern. The library was pitch black in front of them as they went deeper. Dust piled on the shelves as they walked past. David’s frustrated whispering slowly dying out behind them. Kyojuro kept close. The darkness making him nervous.

“What is this place?” She chuckled and squeezed his hand. The man was obviously a little frightened.

“A library. Not a normal one as you can tell. We have one of the largest collections of texts, so the library is quite large. I’m sorry about the mess. This past month has been hectic. Ubuyashiki’s family uses our library for the braille translations because of their affliction.” Kyojuro’s eyes widened surprised she knew about the curse. Using her body weight, she tried to shove open a door in front of them. He reached around and pushed it open with one hand. The room in front of them pitch black. “Ah, thank you.”

“No problem, but why is this library so dark?” Kyojuro hated the dark for obvious reasons. Where the sun didn’t reach, demons could be hiding. She gripped his hand again and pulled him forward.

“There is a large glass sun roof, but we close it at night. It is easier to protect one entrance.” She dropped his hand lightly. Kyojuro almost chased after her as she walked away. Walking around the room she began lighting the candles, he could see now it was a workshop. There were rows of little metal tiles like at a print shop. There were a couple bound papers with titles he recognized as ones Ubuyashiki requested. He picked one up and flipped through it, but there was nothing there. His eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“What are these markings?” She caught his wrist before he could touch the page and he flinched.

“Sorry. However, your touch may be too rough, may I?” She gestured to his hand.

“Of course.” Kyojuro blushed lightly in the low light, but she looked away before it could become noticeable. She closed his palm, letting his pointer and middle finger remain outstretched. Then, she lightly touch them across the page down the first line of raised dots.

“This is braille. Each set,” she guided his hand back over to the very first ones formed in an upside down L formation. “Corresponds to a character in the alphabet. This way the blind can read.” She let go of his hand, so he could look for himself.

“Why not have someone read to them?” He looked up from the paper mesmerized. She smiled at him lightly.

“How would you feel if you couldn’t even read by yourself?” There was no malice in her question. She turned away to the desk and sighed. “Just as I thought, I haven’t finished the last two. One of them is almost done, if I start now, I should be able to finish before morning.”

“I can wait here until morning.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, Rengoku. You can go home and sleep then come back at dawn.” He shifted uncomfortably. It felt wrong to go into town and sleep when someone was doing work, but this wasn’t something he could help with. During his indecisiveness, she leaned forward in front of him. “Unless you’d like to help?”

“I’d prefer to help.” He smiled at her understanding.

“Let me go talk to David. He has quite the workload. Just don’t mind his attitude.” She stepped forward to whisper in his ear, “I think he might have a crush on me.” Kyojuro blushed again and she chuckled into his ear at her own joke. “You’ll be fine alone?”

“Yes, thank you. I won’t touch anything.” She patted his shoulder and turned to walk out the door with the lantern. Kyojuro shuffled uncomfortably. The librarian was interesting, confusing. The whole building was confusing. There was something about it that didn’t seem normal, but it was probably just the dark. The others moved into the darkness without a care even though they knew about demons. He knew that what was making him uncomfortable. He looked around the workshop once again.

There were some small leather boots by the door that looked to be the women’s size. Next to them on the wall were brown pants, though they had two straps going out the top. A style he had seen recently in the bigger cities. A black button up was next to it on the wall. He found it odd to think of her small delicate frame in this, but it was obviously meant for her. The pants had slight ink stains from work. Past the braille station, he noticed the print machine. However, the real cause for the ink around the room, were the woodblock prints. One recent one was a set of flowers carved into the block, that one was covered in ink. Down on the floor was the print. It wasn’t done perfectly, but he found the slight drops of blue ink that were splattered across the page brought more life to it. There was a knock from behind him and he turned to see her at the door. She slowly came over with a small smile.

“You like that piece?”

“I do, it reminds me of someone.” She sighed.

“I wasn’t too happy when I completed it.” He bent down next to it, to look over better. The light blue flowers reminded him of his mother’s wind chime from home. Once he got to the corner he smiled. Her name and fingerprint was there. It was comforting to see that she still took ownership over it.

“Why did you sign it if you didn’t like it?” He couldn’t help himself, he had to ask. She laughed to herself and turned to walk out the door expecting him to follow.

“It’s still mine. When I look at many famous artists, the art seems daunting. The skill I mean, but I’m sure they didn’t start out that way. They learned and grew into their art by practicing. By looking at where the droplets fell, I know for next time that those are place I put too much ink.”

“I admire that. If only I could do that…”

“You can, you should take it with you when you leave.”

“Take it? Your art piece?” She turned to look at him over her shoulder. The desk coming into view in front.

“It’ll remind you to look back and learn from what you’ve done.” Before he could answer, she approached David at the desk. He stood up.

“What about guarding the door?” David looked anxiously over. There was always someone at the desk at night doing clerical work and watching the door. The people considered this place a safe haven, so if anything was wrong, someone would come running. She ruffled David’s hair and glanced at Kyojuro.

“There’s a hashira with us. If it opens, I’m sure he’ll hear it.” David’s arms came up and swiped her off of him.

“Whatever, go get working on your braille and I’ll try to make him not useless.” She laughed and kissed David’s cheek. He quickly turned away nervously.

“Take a break if you need it and feel free to ask questions. I know it might be hard in the dark.”

“I do most of my work in the dark, so hopefully it won’t be too difficult.” She smiled and handed him her lantern.

“You’ll need this more than I. I know the way to the office. David, do you have your pocket watch?”

“Yes!” He snapped out of his daze and held it up proudly. A light blush on his cheeks.

“Bring our guest to the office at sunrise. I’ll try to work on your other book too.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can come back for that one. Master Ubuyashiki is kind, he’ll understand.” She nodded and patted his shoulder as she walked past.

“Have fun, Rengoku~.” She disappeared into the darkness. Kyojuro turned back to see the boy watching after her. He laughed loudly at David’s lovestruck expression. David snapped out of it to glare at him.

“Let’s show you the ropes. You’ll probably be completely hopeless at it anyways.” David was right. Kyojuro was completely hopeless. Even with his enhanced sight in the dark from all his work, he couldn’t see anything, so he kept stumbling into unsuspecting shelves. David would scold him and instruct him to hold the lantern further out in front of him. However, Kyojuro didn’t understand why he had to. He was a pillar for crying out loud, so why was he running into shelves. Though every time he did, it didn’t escape him to notice that he had been thinking about the girl in the office. There was a sound of the machine every 5-10 minutes as she finished another page. Every time, Kyojuro couldn’t help but want to wander over to the office. None of the books they had to put away were in that direction.

When Kyojuro could make it through the isles, finding the correct place was now a different story. David was so quick. He barely had to look at the shelves to find their place. Kyojuro had to go row by row then book by book. For every book he did, David did 10. After a while, the boy sighed at Kyojuro’s hunched over form.

“Maybe this isn’t the right job for you. We still have a couple of hours. The floors and shelves still need to be cleaned. Think you can manage?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, come with me to the cleaning closet.” He led him over to the left side of the building and handed him a rag first. “Dust the floors, then come get me.” Only thirty minutes later Kyojuro, ran up to David in the aisle.

“This one is the only one I have left!” David’s eyes widened.

“Upstairs?”

“Yes!”

“O-oh, uh let me move the cart.” They moved it together and David peaked around to corner to watch. Kyojuro pushed the rag against the floor in front of him like normal and started to push it forward. All the sudden, the man let out a deep breath and took off down the row. The shelves shook with the force of his movement. David could barely make out his body as it zipped back towards him then away again. A couple seconds later, Kyojuro came jogging down the aisle.

“Done with this one, polishing now, right?” David blinked rapidly then snapped out of it.

“R-right! How did you do that?” They started walking towards the closet again. The floors were spotless.

“My breathing technique. You can do a lot if you just learn to control your breathing!”

“I’d like to learn sometime if you can teach me…”

“I’d love to! Are you interested in swordsmanship as well? You could become my student.”

“No! I-I don’t want to leave the library. I want to learn to protect this place, but I don’t want to leave.” David looked down at the ground. He glanced at the office then shook his head. “Let’s just get this done.”

The rest of the night went smoothly. Kyojuro took longer polishing then set off to dust the selves and railings too. Usually that never got done during the night, but he didn’t finish anyways. The upstairs was the only fully clean section and David shouted out when it was time to go. They slowly walked towards the office together. David knocked, but got no reply. Heaving his body against the door, he cracked it open and squeezed inside. Kyojuro shoved it open easily afterwards.

David hushed him and pointed at a hunched over form. The librarian was sleep against the desk. Her head pressed against the wood. One hand was still on a book page probably keeping her place. The other was pressed against the metal tiles that were slotted on a board. Kyojuro moved forward to wake her up and David pulled on his haori. He looked back trying to make eye contact in the dark. The candles long burned out.

“Please, don’t. She barely sleeps anymore. What is it you need, I’ll get it?”

“Ah, the list is in her jacket pocket.” David nodded and walked forward with the lantern. Avoiding things strewn about on the floor that hadn’t been there before. He gently reached into the pocket to pull out the list. She didn’t even move. David unfolded the list and started to silently stack the braille books. Now that Kyojuro could get a closer look, he could see dark circles under her eyes. He recalled the conversation from earlier: he remembered the library was open day and night. That way anyone could come for protection or for the sake of knowledge. David shuffled the books into a bag like he was shown so they weren’t ruined. He grabbed Kyojuro’s haori and tugged him out. Now out in the hallway they could talk.

“I’ll move her later. She’s a heavy sleeper once she’s out. She finished the one book, but not the other like expected. I’ll lead you- Actually…” He shuffled his feet nervously. “Can you help me open the skylight before you go?” It was the last thing that needed to be done tonight.

“Of course, I can’t wait to see it!” David rolled his eyes and led him to a chain in the corner of the room.

“You have to pull this side and I have to go to another chain to open the other. They only stay open when both sides are. It’s a safety feature or something.”

“You can never be too careful.”

“Yeah… just pull the chain.” David ran off towards the other one. Kyojuro waited until the side started to move up ahead to pull his own. The sun slowly leaked through over the library inch by inch. His eyes actually burned at the bright light and the sun wasn’t even fully up. The sides, finally pulled back, made a locking noise from up above and he couldn’t pull the chain anymore. He carefully let it go. With the new light in the room, he could see David on the other side. The library’s dark oak floors shined despite the dust in the air and on the shelves. He left the chain and approached a book shelf. The shelf itself was dirty, but the books were immaculate. Obviously each one was taken care of. David approached again and started pulling at his elbow.

“Look, I’m not really supposed to let people walk around over here. Master doesn’t like people in the back sections.”

“I understand. Who cares for these books?” He turned to follow the boy to the door.

“The librarians do. I only care for the front section. They care for everything else, especially downstairs.” Kyojuro’s smile widened mischievously.

“Downstairs? I didn’t know you had more books than this!” The library, now he could see had each shelf full to the brim. As they got closer to the door, he could tell these books up front were read by the public.

“Downstairs holds the dangerous books. I’ve never been down there, but a couple of the books Master Ubuyashiki requested came from there. The rest came from upstairs. That’s our medicinal section.” They reached the door and David took the satchel off to hand over to Kyojuro. His curiosity was eating at him.

“And only the two librarians are allowed downstairs?” The boy huffed out now annoyed. Something he was always chided for since they were supposed to encourage questions, so he answered.

“Yes, they have a key or something. She even sleeps with the damn thing and you’d figure you could take it then, but she jumps up like a zombie!” David mimicked the movements he was describing. “Freaky stuff. Then I tried to steal from the old man and he did the same thing!” Kyojuro hummed in thought. Both of you had obviously been trained to protect the key, even in your sleep. He really wanted to know what was in the basement. Maybe Ubuyashiki would humor him.

“Thank you, young man. I will be back in three days for the other book I’m missing. Maybe I’ll find out what is down there with you!” David smiled, but quickly wiped it off his face into a scowl.

“Like you’d be able to do it! I’ve been trying for years.” Kyojuro laughed and ruffled the boys hair. David did the same thing as earlier and swatted his hand away. He shoved open the door and pushed Kyojuro out of it.

“Goodbye, and nice meeting you!” David huffed and slammed the door closed as soon as Kyojuro was out.

Two days later, Kyojuro approached Tengen’s estate nervously. He had to go to the library tomorrow to retrieve the last book and he needed advice. Before he could open the gate, Tengen popped his head over it.

“You’ve been standing there for like ten minutes. You’re making the wives nervous.”

“Tengen, hello! Just wanted to drop by to say hello.” Now that he was here, he felt ridiculous asking Tengen for women advice.

“Nonsense, come inside for tea.” The gate whipped open and Kyojuro trudged inside. The three women of the house came out to greet him.

“Kyojuro! We’re so glad to see you here again. You never visit.” Hinatsuru said. Makio responded with a quick hey and a nod. Suma lunged at him to get him into a hug. Since his mind was elsewhere, he instinctively avoided it and she went into Tengen.

“Wow, didn’t know you were that distracted.” Makio said. Suma cried into Tengen about her avoided hug behind him. Kyojuro scratched his neck nervously.

“I’m sorry, I actually came here for advice.” They all halted their movements. Surrounding him, Tengen spoke first.

“About a woman?!” Kyojuro looked away and blushed. The girls squealed. Finally Kyojuro was looking into women and not work.

“Where did you meet a woman?” Makio asked.

“The library.”

“There’s no woman at the library. I would’ve seen her by now!” Tengen crossed his arms unbelieving.

“Akasaka fell ill, so his assistant has been taking care of the place!”

“Ignore Tengen, tell us about her!” Hinatsuru grabbed his hands and led him to the engawa so they could all sit. Tengen dragged behind.

“She’s interesting…” It was difficult for him to describe a woman. Tengen decided to prompt him to talking more.

“The way they move in the darkness is scary isn’t it? Like demons.” Tengen plopped down in front of him.

“Her and David both did that. I think they can see better than me.”

“David? What a weird name,” Makio commented.

“I want to hear more about this girl!” Suma cried out.

“Oh uh… she taught me about braille!” He looked down at his hands. He decided to leave out the mention of the painting you gave him.

“I’ll bet she did.” Tengen smirked and said seductively. Hinatsuru hit the back of his head. Kyojuro furrowed his eyebrows confused by his words.

“We didn’t interact a lot, but we held hands. I’d like to court her.” The women awed at Kyojuro’s determined expression and Tengen rolled his eyes. He was obviously hopeless, Kyojuro had never interacted with a woman before outside of his line of work. His wives stared at him pleadingly, they needed more information and most importantly they wanted to help him.

“Fine, fine. When are you going back to the library?”

“Tomorrow!”

“I’m coming with you. I have to meet the girl in order to help you do this.”

“Thank you, Tengen.”

The next day, Kyojuro showed up at Tengen’s door waiting for him to get going. Tengen slid to door open and stopped. Looking over the other man he sighed.

“What are you wearing?”

“My demon slayer uniform. This is still technically a mission.” Kyojuro still had his blade for crying out loud. Tengen sighed, but closed to door behind him anyways. If there was a woman out there for him, they’d have to get used to that uniform.

“Let’s head out, race you there!” The two took off down the path.

Stopping right in front of the library doors, Kyojuro reached forward to knock. Tengen pushed passed and just opened the doors. At the desk in the middle of the room was David, he was slouched over writing something. He looked up and scowled.

“Now there’s two of you? For one book?”

“We were both in the area.” Tengen said and strode forward. They both looked side to side trying to see another lamp in the darkness. David stood with the book in his hand.

“Here, this is the last one you needed, right?” Kyojuro came forward to take it, but he could help but ask David. Tengen tapped his foot impatiently.

“Where is she? I didn’t expect to only see you tonight.”

“A stack of volumes to restore came in last night. I’ve been holding down the fort up front.”

“So there really is a girl? I almost thought you were lying!” Tengen exclaimed and leaned forward. He absolutely had to see her now.

“Now you brought this womanizer back into the library with you?”

“Who are you calling a womanizer? I’ll have you know-“ A crash resounded from the back of the library. It came from the office. Kyojuro’s hand twitched over his blade, but David just ran away from the desk towards it.

“I told you. They have weird darkness powers.” Tengen grabbed the lantern he left and followed the whispers. As they got closer, Kyojuro could make out your voice.

“It’s alright, just a little cut.” The smell of blood wafted out through the open door. Peaking in, Tengen and Kyojuro watched David led you over to the chair. The large machine in the room had a piece broken off on the floor. You were cradling your bleeding arm. That wasn’t just a little cut. Kyojuro opened the door more to step inside. Tengen let out a surprised whistle.

“Looks like you hurt yourself bad, girly. Rengoku, help her out, yeah?” He put a hand on his friend’s back and shoved him forward.

“Of course! Do you have a first aid kit?!” He stood rigid and at attention. His voice boomed around the loud room. A light blush dusted his cheeks once he realized his mistake. You smiled pleasantly at the two.

“Please, I don’t-“

“I‘ll get it!” David ran out of the room, pushing the hashira to the side. Tengen looked between you two before slowly backing out of the room. He caught Rengoku’s worried stare and gave a thumbs up then disappeared. Rengoku cleared his throat.

“W-what, excuse me, what have you been up to?” He carefully stepped forwards. You gave a light laugh.

“I’ve been working on the last book and restoring some more.” Gently, Rengoku took your arm to examine, he nodded to show he was listening. Tengen’s tip number 5: listen to what she has to say, actually listen and show interest!

“Restoring some?” He stuffed a hand into his uniform to look for the bandages he usually keeps there. At the same time, trying to maintain eye contact. His clumsy demeanor was endearing. His eyebrows twitched with worry once he realized he didn’t have bandages.

“Well, we value all sorts of texts that come in, so we try to-“ You were interrupted by a rip. “Oh my god! Rengoku, stop!” Kyojuro quickly snapped his eyes back to you. He was holding a strip of his haori in his hand.

“It’s alright! You’re far more important than my haori.” He smiled brightly. Slowly grabbing your arm to wrap up. You blushed, speechless. Outside the room, Tengen was silently cheering for his companion while holding David still against his chest with a hand over his mouth.

“Thank you.” He hummed, pleased with his work. Rengoku let his hand linger in yours and looked up from your hands to your eyes.

“Would you care to go on a date?” You blushed, squeezing his hand out of nerves. David outside the door kicked and screamed against Tengen.

“Fucking brat,” Tengen whispered. You laughed before answering Rengoku.

“I’d enjoy that.” He smiled, grabbing your non injured arm and guiding you out of the room shouting.

“Tengen! Tengen! Your advice worked, old frie- What are you two doing?”

“Well you see this kid tried to interrupt.”

“Tengen, you can’t have him as a tsuguko. He’s already agreed to be mine.”

“You think I want to train this whiny kid?!”

“Sorry to interrupt, but I think you’re strangling MY student.” David stumbled out of the larger man’s grasp gasping. Rengoku clapped him on the back harshly.

“You- you can’t go-go out with that guy.” He panted out while pointing at Rengoku. You stepped forwards. Slipping your hand out of Rengoku’s, he frowned as you supported David’s weight. The young boy pouted towards you then glared at the other two.

“We’ll talk this over while we fix the machine. Rengoku?” His whole head snapped in your direction. “Send me a crow with some times and dates that work for you. I know our schedules are busy, but I have a feeling things will work out.” He blushed and nodded. You walked back into the office scolding David. The hashira headed back to Tengen’s estate to discuss everything with his wives. Rengoku opened the gate while laughing at something Tengen said. Tengen suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder and started dragging him away slowly.

“Where are we going?!” Rengoku was back to shouting everything. Tengen stopped dragging him and looked back. His face held a look of exasperation.

“We forgot the book.” Rengoku laughed with joy so loud at the thought of seeing you again that the trees around the estate shook.

[ourmondobongo]

It isn't something new to Gege's manga style to play and extrapolate in-panel drawing perspectives with the overall design of panel frames and some of the textboxes. He uses this stylistic choice during most intense fights, which makes the reading more dynamic as well as serves to show how "outside the box" he likes to do things.

That said, I just want to highlight how nice these details were put and played around throughout this chapter.

We start with a sword directly pointed at us. It's a salute to the jjk 0 cover, yes, but also - don't you get the feeling that Yuta is breaking out the confines of the page? Like, if we had a virtual or 3D glasses on, he would be about to stab us? Cool!

Here, Rika is divided into three 'batdevil' missiles, and they trespass the limites of the panel, giving a deeper sense that they are fast and really moving at high-speed to attack Sukuna. Meanwhile, Gege also uses sfxs that differ in size and 'font' to emphasize the sharp, clean speed (bats) and the brute fierceness (yuji's punch) while the attacks happen nearly simultaneously.

Ps: I love how Gege keeps showing Sukuna's soul shaking after Yuji's attack. You can feel the 'trembling', almost like when Choso felt Yuji's delayed/double punch in the anime.

Again, Yuta comes extrapolating the limits of the panel framing— but as if he is coming in jumping from somewhere outside the pages. And not only that, but this jump also distorts the solidness of the place to the point that even the 'inked' sfx blurs with it. So cool!

Another panel extrapolation, now featuring Yuji going so fast he is passing through three frames at once +

Sukuna is so tall and physically strong that he holds Yuji between two panels!

And now two of my favs:

The CT is literally so powerful it shatters the panel frame! An awesome detail most ppl might not even notice in the heat of the reading!

And later, there is Sukuna expanding his deadly fingers and cursed slashes beyond the dimensions of the panel he is alone in.

The visual is also clearly inspired by the animation (Maho fight)!

And at last, we come back to the Yuta's sword perspective:

It's interesting how the double pov on Sukuna's character give a little bit of a feeling that there is a David vs Goliath going on. Compared to Sukuna's size and mature features, Yuta looks like what he truly is - a 16yo boy wielding a sword to a 1000yo man who has transcended what lies beyond the horizon of curses and humanity.

And with this worrisome perspective in mind until next week, I hope Gege thinks twice before he does what I fear he might do to my son T_T

[therealheatherc]

⋆ˊˎ- Introduction

Listen, I didn't set up this account. Heather Duke did, for some reason. So don't expect me to like, know how to use this damn thing.

I'm Heather Chandler AKA The Girl in Red, Heather #1, The Demon Queen of Westerburg etc. (Yes, yes I go by many names. I know, It's so very.)

Sooo, basically I'm a big deal down at Westerburg High and if you don't know me, Well Heather McNamara says to count yourself lucky. (Although personally, if I was you I'd be upset about it.)

You can use this account to like, ask me things and talk to me, but don't send me creepy, weird stuff (Looking at you Kurt Kelly.) or try and like....ask me out through here, take me on a date to the 7/11 at the LEAST.

Also, If I respond to you on here. It doesn't mean ANYTHING in the hallways. So if I respond to you Courtney, it doesn't make you a Heather!

Anyway this stupid keyboard is making my fingers hurt and it's ruining my nails so, I'm ending this here. Plus I have more important things to do like use Heather Duke as a makeup tester and annoying Sawyer. So.....

Don't miss me too much!

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

⋆ˊˎ- OOC Below! (Headcannons, RP Mains, Rules ect.)

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⋆ˊˎ- Rules

No NSFW (light NSFW jokes are exempt from this.)

No Discrimination, it will not be tolerated

No creepy requests

This is an RP Acc, not a real person

I am to keep this Acc. in character as much as possible, everything 'she' says is strictly for RP and is not to be taken literally.

⋆ˊˎ- Inspirations ect.

My Heather Chandler Is based off JKW's Chandler (Off-Bway) as well as parts of Kim Walker's Chandler (1988).

My Chandler knows things across all versions of Heathers (Film, Off-Bway & West End) so, anything regarding that is fine.

I do intend for my Chandler to be a bit more ruthless and she will curse very openly.

We don't talk about 2018 Heathers, just no.

My Chandler has had the relationships which are only in the movie. (David & Allegedly, Peter Dawson.)

I only choose to use JKW's Chandler as the pfp since I see her as one of the most recognizable forms of Chandler. (Kim Walker will always be iconic though.)

⋆ˊˎ- Headcannons

Ships: Idk, Any Ig? Chandlmara, ChanDuke, ChanSaw are all on the table. (Poly Heathers & Ronnie? Can also be purely platonic.) I guess this depends on context.

Sexuality: Again same as above, I don't limit my chandler. (Although she's probably, mostly lesbian or y'know in a glass closet sitch, however she can evolve to be with context, aroace, bi ect. This may be subject to change one day though, same with above.)

My Chandler has two cats, The first is a white and gray Persian, his name is Stanley. (No it is not a reference to the Stanley Cup.) The second is another boy cat, who is a brown Maine Coon. His name is Samson.

Ancestry, nationality: I've always headcannoned my Chandler as British and or a German-American. (Primarily British)

My Heather is 16. (Derived from the movie)

She will verbally attack you if you upset or Hurt the other Heathers (Mainly McNamara but also Duke)

Important things in Heathers life (In Order)

- Stanley & Samson

- Her Position as Queen Bee (Ik It looks bad, but it's Heather..)

- Her 'Girls' (Mac & Duke, sometimes Ronnie, mainly refers to Ronnie as her 'Pillowcase' or her 'Nerd')

- Her Blazer, Heels & scrunchie.

- Her Porsche

For those asking, is she dead?: Yesn't. Take that how you will.

She will answer any questions with blatant honesty. (Unless you're exposing her being closeted....)

She can be slightly flirty in response to asks ect (On Request). Obviously not explicitly but like, if you are looking for a slightly flirty (like borderline flirty, more so sassy) response just mark it with this emoji > 🪄

DO NOT BRING UP PETER DAWSON OR DAVID. (Or do, your choice.)

Hates Courtney with every ounce of her being.

(Check my main blog for more in depth headcannons for Chandler which should release soon.)

⋆ˊˎ- Names I will be using for Other Characters.

Veronica - Sawyer, Pillowcase, Nerd, Ronnie, Ronni', Ronica', V, Roni, RonRon, The dead girl walking (and or) writing.

Heather McNamara- McNamara, Mac, Mackie, Mac n Cheese, Sunshine, Little Miss Cheer Captain, Dandelion.

Heather Duke- Duke, Duchess, Green Bean, Bookworm, library lady, Duke Darling (Usually to annoy her/Condescending sometimes for real)

Kurt & Ram - Jockstraps, Idiot 1 & 2 ect. (Purely insults)

Jason Dean - Jason, Mr Dean, Psycho Trenchcoat Kid, That, Mr Breaking & Entering.

⋆ˊˎ- RP Blog Mains

Jason Dean (JD) - @norwegian-in-the-boiler-room

Veronica Sawyer- @greasylittlenobody

Heather McNamara - @heathermcnamara1989

Heather Duke - @duck-duke-goose

Kurt Kelly -

Ram Sweeney -

(Additional characters & OC universe can be added on request, Eg. Country Club Courtney, Peter Dawson, Freshmen, Parents?)

⋆ˊˎ- Spotify

Also, Putting this here because it seems fitting. (Its often what I'm listening to when on here anyway.)

⋆ˊˎ- [Last Section to be added]

(This will be updated as Headcannons evolve, last update was 16/12/24, yes I use the british date system...)

I run on NZST (New Zealand Standard Time) Don't know what that equates to but...yeah.

RP Acc. Operated by (Main Acc) - @diaryofronniesawyer89

[pluppsauthor]

OC Interview

Thanks to @themboty, @phoenixradiant, and @sunglasses-in-the-bentley for the tags! I'm not sure who to do this time around, we got a three part special this time. Anyway I will do... let me get a wheel Bene (Wounded Reflection), Akita, and David (both Hellfire)! (cw: swears)

Are you named after anyone?

"No. I asked my father what my name meant once. He shrugged and said it was a name. No deeper meaning." "No. Never heard of anyone with the same name as me." "Am I named after someone? ...I mean, it's a common name--not here, but just... generally. Can't really ask anyone so I don't know."

When was the last time you cried?

*deep sigh* "When my father died." "I don't know, and I don't really care. Why would I keep track of when I cry?" "Well, funny story, it was right after I almost died. When I was a given a second chance to live, I cried. But then I learned of the curse I had just taken on to be given such life. Then that joy turned to regret."

Do you have kids?

"No... although sometimes I wished I had chosen to start a family rather than fall into that pit of revenge." *Laughs* "How old do you think I am? At least you don't think I'm a kid." "Nah, not really interested in that stuff. Settling down ain't my style. I like travelling, I like doing things that having a family might... impede or make unavailable."

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

"No." "I don't think I know what that means, so... maybe." "Haha, yeah."

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

"Their aura. Not only can it inform me of their Frequency, should they posses one. But, it can gives a vague read on their strength and vitality. It's a good thing to know I think." "How easy it would be to pickpocket them. Also if I can outrun them." *sigh* "I'm not sure... I tend to assume the worst in people, so I guess I try to gauge if they have ill intentions."

What’s your eye colour?

"Brown." "I've only seen it in the reflections of broken shards of glass. It's dark, so maybe brown." "Grey. Although I SWEAR they look blue under the right light."

Scary movies or happy endings?

"Movies? I'm not sure I've heard of that. So I guess a happy ending." "What? I don't care for stories." "Oh, that's a good one. I've been somewhere where they have a theatre. Not for plays, but for reels. Honestly, I don't think their too impressive, from an enjoyment perspective. But I do like scary stories, so I'll go with that."

Any special talents?

"Excluding my Frequency, no. However, due to the effects of my Frequency I am fairly resilient against the cold. More than the average person at least." "It isn't a special talent, but people underestimate me. A real talent is I can create energy from my hands. Not a single person has expected that, scares people off of me too." "Oh, where do I begin? I have a lot of tricks I know. Sleight of hand, misdirection, illusions, that sort of thing. I'm also very lucky, or at least that's what I say. In truth, I have a sort of sixth sense of certain things. It allows me to cheat at most games of chance. Don't tell anyone that, or else I'll probably be banned from every gambling bar I visit."

Where were you born?

"Shadecross. It's a... connecting town. Brings in a lot of trade. Try not to go there much, brings back bad memories." "Redwick. Awful place. Nobody cares for you there, they beat the downcast and feed off misery." "Leeside. Shithole of a place, I'll be honest. Not worth going back."

Do you have any pets?

"No. Vesa has a cat and I was with her for some time. But I'm not any more, and I still wouldn't consider that my pet." "No, it's another mouth to feed. It's already enough to feed myself, why would I take on another creature to care for?" "No, but I kind of want one! I think I travel too much, though. Plus, it's kind of hard to find the time to care for an animal, at least for me."

What sort of sports do you play?

"I'm not the biggest fan of sports. Me, my brother, and Ollie used to play outside a lot as kids, but not really sports." "None." "I know I said Leeside's a shithole--and it is!--but the people there are great. The kids I grew up used to play a bunch of games and sports. I think all of the names were made up so I don't know what they were."

How tall are you?

"178 centimetres." "Are you making fun of me? You better not be... *sigh* ...anyway, I don't know exact numbers. a little bit under 170 centimetres I think. Maybe 167, I don't remember." "Uh, I think it was... 180?? Centimetres, of course."

What was your favourite subject in school?

"My father taught me everything, Shadecross still doesn't have a school." *chuckles* "Are you assuming I went to school? I wouldn't be scrounging for scraps if I did." "Leeside didn't have one, a school that is. But now I'm doing a lot of learning and stuff myself. I think one thing I've enjoyed to some extent was learning a language so, whatever that field is called."

What is your dream job?

"I don't have one. I think I'd either like to keep doing what I'm doing or retire and only do what I have to. I'm not one for professions like learning a craft." "Not being homeless, I know that's not a job. I survive for myself I don't care for anything like money, it only serves as a way to get what I need." "Honestly, I don't have one. I'd rather make my money gambling then work a day in my life."

Missed doing these, I want to do more about the Hellfire cast. I love those funny little gremlins so much. Anyway, onto tags!

Gently tagging (np) @mk-writes-stuff, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @kbwritesstuff, @illarian-rambling, @theeccentricraven, @tildeathiwillwrite, and open tag for anyone that wants to hop in! ❤

[twotales]

*tries to think coherently about characters but literally can’t* RADEK ZELENKA! Just!!! RADEK!!!! I mean look at him! I did not expect to watch Atlantis and become obsessed with non-wraith characters but here I am, searching for David Nykl content y’all because of the amazing Dr. Zelenka.

Do you have any fic recs of him getting absolutely destroyed in the best ways possible? I have dived into AO3 and read so many fics with him (and Lorne, and McKay, and also wraith in general). Reading Legacy right now and there’s still not enough Radek even though he’s doing his job and McKay’s.

-Lt-Col-Siren I swear I’m a real person I’m just very busy and can’t make decisions also wanting to learn Czech just to understand what he’s saying when Rodney is being Rodney about things

Thanks @lt-col-siren for the side character request!

Coherence is overrated!!

Dude, DUDE! I KNOW RIGHT!!!! He is amazing. And welcome to being completely normal about Radek Zelenka. COMPLETELY  NORMAL. 

There 100% is not enough Radek.

I literally made this blog because of that! I just couldn't go on in such a Radekless world.

On that note, David Nykl is such a great and underrated actor. He's also very cool and pretty funny imo!

Now! Fic recs for Radek getting destroyed, I got you-

Discorporate

Rodney gets destroyed in this one too!

Summary: Remember when Rodney insisted that he was supposed to be the one figuring out how to rescue the poor trapped bastard (Grace Under Pressure.) We're exploring what it would take to make him eat his words!

-

Phantom Pains

This dude, this!

Summary: Zelenka is taken to be a Runner by the Wraith. Atlantis presumes him dead and McKay takes that harder than expected. Takes place between "Trio" and "Midway."

-

Read the tag! But it's good! But sad, but like, bah! So good.

Summary: "We're the ones who do the impossible. We're the ones that find the solution when there is none. We're the ones that fix this."

-

Mensa!AU Radek (Rod's universe)

Summary: To the day of his death, Radek believed that one of the universe's greatest cosmic jokes was that he would come to Atlantis and fall in love with the city. The city in the middle of an ocean. The city which could fly. (Mensa 'verse)

Mensa!AU (Rod McKay) Radek

-

This is one of mine - It's more mentally destroyed but anyways

Summary: Radek stayed in the back, twiddling his thumbs and hoping to put off the inevitable. He pushed his glasses up with shaky fingers and sighed. It’s not that he didn’t want to go, quite the opposite in fact. He needed to go more than he needed to breathe.

-

I hope these are new to you and what you're looking for!!

(Evan and Rodney 💖 both in my top 5 favorite SGA characters!)

Did you know that I started learning Czech because of Radek Zelenka? No? Well I have been going strong since and now my partner is actually applying to a masters program in the Czech Republic (not related to my fandom love) so we are both learning it. 

Mostly it's him cursing Rodney out 😂 wiki has translations! But honestly, learn Czech! It's a fascinating and beautiful language that is not learned enough, just like Radek, not enough and highly underrated. It can be difficult to find ways but it is possible! Duolingo is good for basics, but don't rely on it for pronunciation. 

One day I hope to meet David Nykl and say to him in Czech  "I fell in love with the Czech language and the Czech Republic because of Radek."

So seriously if you commit then I hope to converse with you in Czech one day 💚 (absolutely no pressure)

Thanks for the ask dude!! I appreciate and If you ever want to be completely normal about Radek or have more requests feel free dude, feel free

[dominoblues]

To celebrate my little gremlin's birthday!!!!! Happy birthday Mokuba!!

You can also read it on AO3 here

____

The roar of the McLaren Elva reverberated in the middle of the jungle of cars, concrete, glass and steel that was San Francisco at noon. In the passenger seat, the older Kaiba could not care less about the scenery flying around him: the same buildings, the same landscape he had been acquainted with for a long time now. Besides, the clouded sky and the lack of sunlight took all the charm away. A gray San Francisco was not a pretty San Francisco. Not that behind his sunglasses he could have told the difference.

Seto peeked at his little brother in the driver’s seat: Aviators on, dark hair ruffled by the breeze blowing on his new roadster speeding up on the asphalt. Every now and then, he would let out a soft impatient growl at the red light forcing him to stop, nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Then, even before the green light would appear, he would shift gears, wheels screeching, and pass the cars in front of him at full speed, meticulously steering through the traffic at the intersection, to the irritation of some drivers whose curses would be lost in the rear wind.   

Seto smirked. Stylish. Free. That was Mokuba Kaiba. The ‘hot’ Kaiba, as people would call him.

“Are you that hungry?”

Mokuba met his gaze.

“I just want to spend as much time with you as I can without the fucking downtown congestion slowing me down.” He complained.

Warm sensation heated Seto’s chest at those words. Twenty-seven years and he was still not used to how straightforward Mokuba was when talking about his feelings. Whether it was anger, frustration or happiness, that simple way his little brother had to put into words his thoughts and emotions always took him by surprise. 

“It’s alright, I took a couple of hours off. We have time.”

Seto diverted his attention to his phone and to the list of messages and mails that seem to never end, not before noticing the smile on his brother’s face.

“Isono says David Stella wants to meet.” Seto raised his gaze on the road ahead with a sigh he immediately regretted.

Mokuba turned to his brother, probably pausing enough to understand the reason behind Seto’s poorly hidden frustration.

“I can do it. I can fly to New York next week.”

“No I’ll do it. You go to Frankfurt.”

“I can do both.” Mokuba insisted. “It doesn’t make sense for you to do it. What are you gonna do? Fly back to Japan tomorrow and then come back next week?”

“Maybe I can meet him on a call.”

Mokuba shrugged. Whatever Seto’s choices would have been, he knew better than keep complaining when it came to business. After all, he was just the Chief Operational Officer. All the ultimate decisions were up to the CEO, and god knows how stubborn and workaholic he was.

“How’s Kyoko-san?”

Seto stopped typing on the phone and tossed a sloping glance at his brother. Mokuba’s question seemed to come out of nowhere. He was keeping his eyes on the road, feigning the most natural expression. The little rascal. Is this what we’re doing now?

“She’s fine.” He hoped that would be it, but he knew Mokuba too well.

“Have you seen her this week?”

He was an open book, not even trying to conceal it this time. Seto let another deep breath for there was no point in hiding anymore.

“She’s busy. I’m busy. We don’t see each other often lately.” He could feel Mokuba’s gaze on him, that annoying ability his brother had to X-Ray the shit out of him every.single.time. Which compelled Seto to add

“I’m fine. It is what it is.”

The silence that followed felt almost pitiful.

“It’s almost eight years since you started dating.”

“We are not dating.”

“Whatever. Agreement, friendship with benefits, whatever you wanna call it. Point is, it’s been quite some time so maybe it’s reasonable for things to slow down. Right?”

Seto stared at Mokuba behind his sunglasses, incapable to formulate a reasonable sentence.

“Even though,” Mokuba continued. “Didn’t she turn forty-seven this year? I heard milfs are quite… passionate.”

“I’m not having this fucking conversation with you.” Seto cut it with a sardonic smile, split between the urge to smack his brother’s nape, enjoying Mokuba’s poor attempts at cheering him up or go back at him. He settled for the latter.

“Are you two slowing down?”

“Nope. Still fucking like rabbits.” His face brightened with a big grin. “But we’ve been together for what? Three and a half years? We’re still in the middle of it.”

Seto delivered one of those rare awkward laughs of his which for some reasons were so contagious to Mokuba.  

“I’m sorry you won’t get to see Jaeson this time. He’s been quite busy too.” Mokuba added.

“Is he taking you out to dinner tonight?”

“No, we’re staying home. He said it’s going to be a surprise, he will probably cook dinner and then…doing some other indoor activities.” Mokuba cheeks tinged with red.

“Right. Like rabbits.”

Mokuba let out his usual vibrant deep husky laugh. Seto smiled, looking at the road again and resting his elbow on the car door. He finished typing his e-mail.  

“How’s it going with the new house?”

“It’s great. I think we’re gonna finish moving by the end of the month. Next time you’re here we’ll probably be able to show it to you.”

“Do you like it?”

“Oh yeah. It’s big. There’s a lot of rooms and the garden is amazing. We can have barbeques and breakfast outside. The neighborhood is nice too. It’s going to be a dream.”

Mokuba’s voice overflowed with excitement. Seto was sure if his brother did not have his sunglasses on, he would have seen his deep grey eyes lightened up like the sky at dawn. Still the same, twenty-three years ago as now. No, it was different. There was a time when his eyes were empty and lifeless, mistakes after mistakes. There was a time where Mokuba has stopped smiling at him, laughing with him. A time when Mokuba did not call him niisama anymore, not that often anyway, and would just address him with his name. That one devastated him. Was it all that really over now? It seemed like a lifetime had passed. He looked at the young men driving his favorite car, his enthusiasm melting him inside. He patted Mokuba’s head.

Gazes met, silent falling.

A small gesture. It was enough.

***

The MKT restaurant at the fifth floor of the Four Seasons was a grand place and the food was simply outstanding. If Mokuba did not have a planned dinner already later that day, he would have definitely given the dessert a try and maybe something else too; but for now a margherita flatbread and a nicoise salad was all he allowed himself to try.  He was not going to disappoint his husband’s cooking, after all. He did not dispensed with the wine though, even if both he and Seto were bound to return to work in an hour.

They had talked business and life, as they were used to every time they would meet once every couple of months. Seto’s visits used to be recurring the first few years that he had started college but since Mokuba had taken the position of COO in the company, their in-person meetings had become less frequent, mostly because now Mokuba could deal with company stuff to unburden his brother. They would still call each other every day. It had become an important habit to both of them. Even eight thousands kilometers and sixteen hours of difference would not have kept them apart. Mokuba would have sworn on it.

It had been hard the first few weeks alone in San Francisco. Yes, of course, his best friend was with him the whole time and then he had met Jaeson who had literally changed the entire direction of his life. Yet, he still remembered the tears he cried that late afternoon at the San Francisco International when he waved goodbye to his older brother. Nineteen years they had spent together with their highs and (many) lows up to that point. The separation felt like something had ripped inside him. The first nights alone in the penthouse had been rough. Promise me you’ll call me every day, he had asked him. Niisama complied. Every day since.

It was such a small thing, something Mokuba was not even sure he could rely on and yet, somehow, it had made a huge difference. Seto would visit every month on business trips and they would talk about college, about life, about themselves. Not that his brother was the most outgoing when it came to feelings. Nonetheless, they had their own thing, the gestures, a simple word. One   of the moments Mokuba would treasure for the rest of his life was the day he came out to Seto, two months in as a freshman. Crying, shaking, the confusion, the fear of being rejected, as he was something impure and wrong. A warm hug and the pride in his brother’s eyes settled the dust. Somehow, this is how they managed to communicate. It took them years to found this balance. It took them a trip to the quantum dimension, a brain damage, quarrels, arguments and many efforts. Still, they had been surviving just fine.    

The only fear left in Mokuba, that would resurface from time to time, was the thought of Seto spending too much time alone.

“Have you seen Yuugi?”

“Not much. Everyone seems to be busy lately.” Seto took another sip of wine.

Mokuba softly bit his lower lip. “Why don’t you take a couple of weeks off this summer? I can cover for you and you and Kyoko-san could spend some time somewhere nice.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Not enough.

Seto looked at his watch.

“So, do you want your present? We still have some time.”

Mokuba’s eyes widened.

“You have a present for me?” He looked around and was sure he had not seen his brother with a bag when they got out the car.

“Of course I do.”

Seto pulled an envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket resting on an empty chair and passed it to his little brother. Mokuba received it in his hands and explored the little package. It was small but heavier and thick at the center as if it contained something solid in it.

“Please don’t tell me it’s car keys. I don’t know where to put my cars anymore.”

“It’s not car keys.” Seto rebutted shaking his head. That little gremlin sure loved cars even more than he did.

Full of curiosity, Mokuba slowly opened the envelope on one side with the help of a knife, and then, he peeked inside. He lingered for a few seconds, eyes still looking inside the package. Then he moved his gaze to his brother with a mix of confusion and emotion in his look. Seto gestured him to keep going with a wave of his head.

Mokuba slipped his hand in the wrapper and extracted a familiar locket. It was no different from the one they used to wear: it was a small box, with the Duel Monster cards’ original backing printed on both sides, and a long thin string tied to it. It’s just that it couldn’t have been the same locket because the older one was still hanging in his bedroom. He looked back at his brother, his face revealing surprise. Seto’s eyes met his, and there was a mix of satisfaction and cockiness in his enigmatic smile.

“Go on. Open it.”

The younger Kaiba, fingers trembling, sprang the locket open and gasped. Inside there was a picture. He had seen it before not long time ago. Actually almost two months before, the day of his graduation: both he and his brother facing the camera, hugging, Seto placing his mouth on the top of Mokuba’s head,  Mokuba’s cheerful beam. A happy day. The picture showed only a cut of the original, which Mokuba was sure it was still in Jaeson’s phone.

“You asked Jaeson to send you this picture? I remember he was the one taking it.”

“He sent it to me already that same day.”

“But why though?” Mokuba gazed back at Seto, with big eyes and it was as he had turned back into a child.

“I thought it was about time for an upgrade. Look, you don’t have to wear it. We are not kids anymore and we sure have a different sense of fashion than before. But-”

Seto noticed his brother’s eyes getting wet, emotions flowing through his face. Pulling the most serious expression he could manage now, Mokuba stretched his arm holding the locket in front of his brother who answered him with a puzzled look.

“Last time I put it around your neck. It’s your turn now.” Cheeks slightly reddish.   

With a sigh, Seto took the locket from his brother’s hand and, holding the gaze, he shortened the distance between the two and slid the locket on Mokuba’s head placing it around his neck.

Without moving from their closeness, he whispered.

“You are the last piece of my heart and I will always come back to you.”

At that moment, the little brother grabbed Seto’s hands into his own. Throat hurt like something heavy was stuck in it. He needed to grip onto something or the overflowing of sensations piercing him would have made him drift away. He knew. He had always known. No matter the distance, no matter the different paths taken in life, they will always be there for each other no matter what. They had already been through too much shit. He wanted to say something. He wanted to say it. How much he loved him. He could not. Only tears sliding through his cheeks. However, there was no need for words. It is how they communicated. The little things.

Seto freed his hands from Mokuba’s grasp, cupped his brother’s face with them and kissed his forehead.

“Happy birthday Mokuba.”

[eemcintyre]

"The Return of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre" review

Aka "well that was a movie"

(Most of this will just be me thirsting over increasingly concerning Matthew McConaughey-related things)

I literally know it's because this is supposed to be somewhat of a satire of slasher movies, but all of the teen characters except my precious baby Renee are so annoying 😖😤

Not to mention Heather's actress has to be one of the worst I've *ever* seen- her situationally inappropriate nonchalance reminded me a lot of the girlfriend from "Seawolf: The Pirate's Curse"

Renee, of course, still manages to impress with the criminally little she is given to work with, as does Matthew, which is why this film wasn't the ~death knell~ for their careers and they have gone on to become award-winning A-listers ✨

I also think she looks very pretty in her glasses 😤🥺

Lowkey I like the weird, mellow vibe this new purple lady (Darla lol) has, but she seems like she's on drugs

AHHHHH Matthew has arrived and he baby!!- oh shit he just snapped a guy's neck. Man they didn't even lead us to believe he might be normal for a minute

"That's Ulysses S. Grant. You probably didn't know that, did ya?" Lowkey W.E. is me when I'm an annoying know-it-all about movie/music/art facts 🙃

Of course, again, it's for the satire, but not these kids wandering calmly around this fucking crack house

I burst out laughing when they finally cut back to Renee and poor girl's still been standing out in the woods this whole time... 💀

It's literally Woman 101 do not get in the damn stranger's truck like even Matthew the serial killer's telling her that lmao

"You don't know shit about being scared, little girl" :OOOOO here we go

The way she escapes the truck and just. .. stops running? .. 🤨🤨

The Leatherface jump scare and the chase through the water was really the only remotely scary part

My poor cat had the unfortunate timing of deciding to snuggle with me while I watched this movie and all the screaming was stressing him tf out me too honestly 🥲

Ok the black comedy is at times actually pretty good ("You're embarrassing me in front of company!!")

Oh, to be tied to a chair and straddled by Matthew McConaughey while he grabs my face I mean what? 😳

"-But then I am in the mood for love..." *bites woman* knees buckling

Darla is so weirdly supportive lol and has her own... unique moral compass; by far the best character. 👑 can I get a yes queen.

Matthew is throwing 'em at me faster than I can process 'em- locking the door behind him, threatening Renee, giving her a little kiss on the cheek and hitting us w that "Smart girl. We've got us a smart girl." MATTHEW DAVID MCCONAUGHEY 🫠

Oops! My need for therapy is showing 🫢🙃

Scale of 1-10 how concerning is it that I thought it was hot when he slit his pec with a knife?

Man all these shots of old remotes are really taking me back to my childhood TVs 🥺😩 and when the TVs and DVD players were so blissfully simple to operate for a Luddite such as myself

Darla's light purple minidress was kind of a serve 💜

They did my boy so dirty not only did he get such an anticlimactic death but they literally SPELLED HIS NAME WRONG IN THE CREDITS "MCCONNAUGHEY" geez fuckin Louise

I am exhausted, confused, and a tiny bit turned on

[roadtogracelandx45]

Unexpected 2 | Webgott x Olivia Stewart

masterlist

part one

This pairing and Olivia are slowly becoming my favorite. Right up there with Liv and Winnix. I can't help myself. Though Webster and Olivia's relationship with Webster is more platonic than her relationship with Dick. But that will be more in Courage Under Fire and Under False Pretenses.

Also posted on ao3: here

Blurry blue eyes watched as Joe helped his wife stand up and lead her back to the stairs, his ears perking when he heard his name and spare room. That was the Captain, no, Major, Stewart, he knew. 

He had forgotten that after her attack and they were settled in the South of France again, Colonel Sink on General Forbes's orders promoted her to Major. She would never let one of the Toccoa boys be out in the cold without a roof over his head and they all knew that. 

He flicked his eyes back over to the couple who were still standing by the stairs, Olivia on the second step cupping her husband's cheek and whispering to him with a small tender smile on her face. Joe turned his head and pressed several kisses to her wrist and palm before pressing a kiss to her mouth and watched as she walked up the stairs to their bedroom. He waited until the door shut behind her before he turned back to Webster who straightened.

"How is she?" He figured that Olivia was going to be a safe subject to start with. Joe didn't answer at first, instead, he went over to the drink cart and started sifting through it. "Joe?" "I am lucky to still have her. And the baby. She almost lost the baby again when we got to Charleston." 

The guilt that he had been trying to push down came back up as did the remaining whiskey, he fought off the feeling of wanting to throw it all up.

"She was on death's door again. General Stewart was able to get a doctor friend of General Forbes to come down from Manhattan. There was a lot of blood." 

Seeing how tense he was, David pulled himself up from his chair and stumbled towards the skinny man.

"They were able to find a heartbeat."

 Tentatively, he reached his hand out and clasped his friend's bare shoulder. He had seen Joe furious before, borderline murderous and devastated yes but scared never.

This was a new side to him. 

"I heard it, it was faint but it was there. I have never heard anything like that before. And Liv, she was freaked out, like how she was that night, begging me to still," Joe trailed off and turned his head so their eyes could meet and Webster wasn't surprised to see the unshed tears in them.

"To still what?"

 "Still love her and not leave her if she lost our baby." He paused before shaking his head, not wanting to talk about the fear that had settled in the pit of his stomach and how it wasn't going away. It probably wouldn't until the baby came and they were both safe. Or how her screams and cries begging the doctor to let him stay with her woke him up in the middle of the night and he pulled her closer to him while she slept.

 "She was in the hospital for over a week to rest and replenish her blood. I had to leave her there."

He tightened his hand on his shoulder as his free hand started pouring some of the Vat 69 whiskey into the glass for him. He felt like a total tool for coming here and bringing up memories that were still fresh, he didn't know that things had been that bad for them. He thought that honestly some of it was for show. That Olivia had been over dramatic but seeing Joe now and how almost tender he was with Olivia changed his mind. 

 "It was one of the two hardest things I have ever had to do. I wasn't allowed in to see her. Marla," 

Webster vaguely remembered the brunette younger sister of the Stewart twins from the 10-day pass they had right after the start of the new year after jump school, she hadn't been afraid to start cursing at him when she heard some of the comments that he made about her sister to Joe, Floyd, and Grant, "stayed with her. Liv, she begged to not be left alone."

 "What about Alice?" The two girls had been inseparable throughout their time together. "Her father was sick." He supplied, "Olivia insisted that she stayed with her parents. She put  her life on hold for long enough to follow Liv everywhere." 

Webster pressed the glass into his trembling hand, urging him to drink.

 "I was ready to stay in Charleston until the baby came. But Katherine was getting released from prison." 

Whiskey splashed over the side of the second glass, "What?! She tried to kill  them in front of an officer." They, along with most of the men in Easy Company, met Katherine McHale on the same trip. Olivia went from this bright shining girl to a shell who retreated to the safety of Lewis Nixon's protection and Katherine flipped her lid and pulled Olivia from the safety of Lewis and Dick Winters.

"My reaction exactly.' Joe found his lighter on the cart and lit a cigarette, " Her getting out changed that, we wanted her out of there quickly. There was no way she was getting on another plane."

Webster's mouth twitched, and he remembered Olivia's aversion to flying especially after their jump into Normandy. According to Buck who landed near her in Holland, he could hear her cursing the entire way down. "So her stepmom and grandma flew out and started finding us a place and we took the train." Joe had been relieved that she had been cleared to take the train out of Charleston, if Katherine had known that she was still in the hospital she would have shown up and caused more issues for Olivia. But thankfully she was released and they were on

 the train before Katherine found out anything from Marla. California would be the last place that Katherine would look for her, especially since she was still under the impression that Olivia was still with Lewis and not with a poor barber from San Francisco.

The man pulled away from him and sat on the loveseat again.

Taking a breath, Webster followed him and sat down next to him, deciding to lead him away from his wife, especially with how bad things were with her health was a horrendous choice and he was regretting it. 

 "Was this your choice?" He motioned around the living room.

 "Liv's, she saw it and fell in love with it." He returned, "You should have seen her face light up when she saw it. Her grandparents insisted said it was Christmas, birthdays, and wedding presents from the last few years

Webster nodded his head and looked at the coffee table that had papers scattered across it. A thick cream invitation caught his attention and he picked up.

The words were still blurry but he could make out Olivia's and Joe's names and the date of July 12th, 1946. 

Two years after their original wedding date.

"Are you getting remarried?"

"On our second anniversary, yes. If you are still here you should come with us." The invitation seemed innocent but there was something lingering behind Joe's words, something that David had desperately wanted to hear. He had needed to know that there was still something with Joe, that

 he wasn't just constantly reliving the past. 

"If I am still here? Do you want me around?" He repeated after swallowing a mouthful of Vat .69. Joe nodded his head as he exhaled a billow of smoke, he knew that he wasn't going to let him go again and he was sure once Olivia got over her anger and hurt towards him, she would agree that the wedding wouldn't be the same without David there.

Just like it wouldn't be the same without Nixon or Dick there. Now that anger faded, all of those feelings that he had previously towards him came rushing back to him. And he was at a loss for it.

Yes, he cared for David and always would but his life was upstairs in bed hopefully sleeping. When he married Olivia after they got back from France, that was it for him, he wanted her and a life with her since the moment he laid eyes on her way back in Toccoa but David offered a rougher side of things.

The side that he tried to keep hidden from Olivia. Yes, he got rough with her but not how he would with him.

David couldn't help the hope that soared up. He knew that he couldn't compete with everything that Olivia was but him wanting him there was a sign. But he had to ask, he had to know before he made any decision to stay. "What was the second hardest thing you had to do?

"Leaving you behind in New York."