#because of the way he scuttles across the floor LMAO

[lyssitalennon]

NEW BABY ALERT HIS NAME IS SCUTTLES

[prettylittlehargrove]

Party Crashers

Request - Here

Summary - Billy and Mayor Clines daughter are in a super secret relationship, but things become a little restless and the truth gets revealed by accident... but not in the best way...

Warnings - Tommy being a bit of a creep lmao, Alcohol consumption, Mentions of underaged drinking, a small mention of drugs

Word Count - 2048 , I finally counted them yay!! x 

Authors Notes - This was a hefty one and i’m so sorry it was so late, ive been super preoccupied and I also wanted to make this to the best of my abilities and I hope you enjoy it! x 

Everyone in Hawkins knew you. Everyone.

A lot of people would think of this as some popularity dream come true, but in all honesty it was a nightmare. Any hope at a relationship was diminished due to a lack of privacy, even going to the store at the weekend people made a fuss.

“The mayors daughter bought meat? Does she hate animals?” Or “Y/N L/N caught smoking!” And your personal favourite “The Mayors Soon To Be A Grandad”. That was after a certain Harrington got caught making out with you behind his car.

That was another problem with relationships, you were constantly being set up with rich kids who owned islands and beaches. Steve was the most casual relationship you’d had after his parents started to cozy up to your father. Unfortunately that didn’t end on the best of terms, both of you growing apart romantically and only really wanting to keep in sexual contact till you officially broke it off.

But then he came. Sun kissed skin and golden curls, he was the definition of a bad boy. Someone your parents would hate the thought of you dating. Billy Hargrove.

He was the everything you’d been told to walk away from. But instead you walked towards him, and soon enough you’d formed yourself a secret relationship.

Making out in his camaro at midnight, down by an old wreck on the outskirts of town. Fucking in your bed at the dead of night whilst he held your hands. Cuddling up on his sofa whilst you got out of your mind high.

He was a rush of adrenaline in your boring and plain life.

Every event you went to, your mind would wonder to the way his hands felt on your body, or how soft his lips were.

Everything was simply divine.

Tommy pulled a flyer from his bag and waved it around in Billy’s face. “There’s a fancy ass party up at the lakeside mansion, and I’d say we crash it tonight, theres gonna be beer and shit, they probably do drugs too man, all rich people do drugs right?” He blabbed, a sure fantasy made up in his mind about some crazy party going on.

“Sure whatever, but you’re in the shit if there’s no beer k?” He chuckled, flicking his cigarette on the floor. His eyes gazed around the parking lot, trying to scope you out. Usually, he didn’t have that hard a time, your elegant stature and bounce in your step drew obvious attention towards you. Finally he caught sight of the familiar heels that clicked against the concrete.

“Y/L Cline man... fuck if I wasn’t with Carol I’d fucking-“ Billy elbowed him harshly and dragged his eyes to look at the rest of you.

“I gotta go” he mumbled, heading to your usual make out spot, the back of the school, behind the bike shed.

You did the same, waving goodbye to your friends to go ‘do some errand’.

Quietly, you looked around to make sure the coast was clear before heading behind the shed to meet with Billy.

“Heya Princess” he winked, his arms were open as he engulfed you into a strong hug. Squeezing you a little before pulling away. You leaned up on your tip toes and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

“Can we pretty please hang out tonight? It’s my birthday tmr and I wanna make sure I get to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to go to some shoddy event...” Billy sighed, remembering back to Tommy.

“I wanna so bad princess, but Tommy asked me to do something with him... and I’ve kinda stood him up like 5-6 times already, I’m an asshole but not a jerk” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek one last time.

“Well be safe and don’t get too drunk or high, because I’m not prepared to try and heave a 5,10 brute through my window again... mr muscles..” giving his bicep a quick squeeze. “Oh and before I forget, here’s your lunch... Maxine told me to make something with jam in it” Billy’s face lit up, food being something that always got him in a good mood.

“Thank you angel, and you can call her Max if you want... I only call her Maxine because it pisses her off etc..” His voice lowered a little in embarrassment and slight shame.

“Don’t worry, I tease my younger cousins all the time” you giggled, handing him his sandwich and giving him a tight hug. “See you when I see you, and I’m expecting a birthday kiss tomorrow!” You giggled and headed away from the spot.

9pm headed around the corner as Billy waited outside Tommy’s house.

“Thought your parents were rich as shit, why aren’t you going?” He muttered, lighting a cigarette.

“Not as rich as these fuckers... probably related to royalty or something.. gonna get so wasted tonight” Tommy chuckled. “So we sneak in through the back and head across the hall towards the wine cellar, and then figure it out from there” The plan was stupid enough, let alone Tommy’s fantasy that he was gonna get beyond wasted.

Your mother fussed around the house, dressed in a gown with her hair tied up and prepped. “Y/N! Why aren’t you ready? The party is in an hour and you’re in your dinner wear?” She scolded, heading down the hall, muttering something or other about how irresponsible you were.

In all fairness you’d completely forgot about this party, it was a small celebration by your fathers lake house. A few kids from your old middle school would be there, probably dressed in diamonds and crystals. Private school wasn’t your favourite place in the world...

Quickly, you shoved on a gown from your wardrobe and did it up. Your mother rushed into the room, pulling your arm to take you to her bedroom where she curled your hair and applied some makeup to your face. “Can’t believe you’re wearing this old thing darling... there’s a pink dress in there that I bought especially for this event” she huffed. So you scuttled off down the hall and carefully stripped yourself of the green gown, being aware that you had a full face of makeup and hair was sprayed perfectly into place. The pink dress was pretty and hung perfectly on your frame... a bit flouncy but still beautiful.

Finally you were ready, getting into your fathers car and heading straight for your birthday party thingy.

Billy heaved Tommy up the wall and over into the garden.

Tux on and everything. If he was to say so himself, Billy thought he looked quite handsome, might keep it on and surprise you later.

They both landed on some bush and wiped themselves down, climbing from the foliage.

“There it is, the lake house. These really are some rich fuckers” Tommy smirked, admiring the huge mansion, lit up with classical music coming from it.

“Right, but I don’t see any bear?” A low growl causing Tommy to twiddle his thumbs.

“Eh well maybe there might not be beer, but! There might be... ok truth is these guys have a daughter and I’ve heard that she’s hella hot so I kinda wanna see for myself ya know” Billy rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“You have a girlfriend”

“You don’t”

“Yeah I - I don’t” Billy stiffened up, remembering the pinkie promise you’d forced him to make.

“Right so let’s go get you laid, and then you can tell me everything” He smirked, eyebrows wiggling as he pushed Billy towards the house.

“Look man I’m tired”

“Bullshit” he chuckled, pushing him through the doors. The house was indeed grand, marble check floors with beautiful fluffy rugs and a glamorous chandelier hanging in the middle.

“Who the hell owns this place?” Tommy shrugged and dusted off his tux.

“No way... I think there is beer” The mischievous grin played on Tommy’s face as he spied a rather large old man swigging back some liquid.

You sat glumly with Sabrina, she chatted on about how ravish her private school life was and how perfect everything was going, something like that. Your mind wondering to Billy, how he’s probably high as hell right now without you. Everything was boring and dull without him.

“Dude! Let’s check out upstairs” Tommy grabbed Billy’s arm and hauled him up the stairs a long corridor of various doors facing them. A voice started to make its way up the stairs to, quickly Tommy shoved himself and Billy into the first door. They both stumbled and fell into the huge room.

“Holy shit dude... this is the chicks room” Tommy slurred, that clearly wasn’t beer that he was chugging back.

Slowly Billy took in the surroundings. His eyes focusing on a picture on the dresser. Was that him? Then it dawned on him.

Who was rich, had a lake house and was a chick? His girlfriend.

Fuck.

Tommy started to shift through the closet, grabbing a pair of panties and holding them up.

“Woah... she’s foxy” he was hammered.

“Give me those” Billy snatched the panties out of Tommy’s hand.

The voice that had been following them got louder. Quickly Billy grabbed Tommy and pulled him into the other side of the bed, forcing him to duck.

“So this is my daughters room... goodness, it’s quite a mess, I apologise she doesn’t-“ A loud thud cut off your mother’s words. She let out a screech as two teenage boys stumbled from behind the bed. One drunk and laughing, the other looking like a deer in the headlights.

And that very moment led to Billy sat in front of the very Mayor himself, you sat right next to him and Tommy sitting against the wall.

“He’s my boyfriend and I tried to sneak him in” you mumbled, fuddling with your fingers, trying your best to not get Billy into trouble.

“So you snuck him through the window? Look I don’t want to hear it anymore, you can’t see him again, and you boy, if you come near my daughter again I’ll have you out of this town fast” Your father was beyond mad. He looked about ready to kill.

“But dad-“

“She didn’t sneak me in, it’s not her fault, I just wanted to surprise her and I chose the wrong night” billy piped up, looking at the floor.

“Surprise her? Why?”

“Because it’s her birthday tomorrow and we probably wouldn’t have seen eachother on the day because you usually plan stuff out for her... so I came early”

“Without a gift?”

“Dad-“

“I don’t have much money sir but I do have a gift for her”

“What is it?”

“DAD?!” You squeaked, “look I’m tired of this, it doesn’t matter anyway, I love Billy but clearly you only ever care if he’s got money or if he’s some private school kid but I don’t care because he’s amazing and none of that matters” You sternly presented your point. Grabbing Billy’s hand and squeezing it.

“Fine, be with him but don’t expect to come running to me for comfort when he leaves you high and dry, and also if you break my daughters heart-“

“Dad... he gets it” you muttered, looking in Billy’s eyes. A small smile on both of your faces. Quietly your mother stood smiling to herself, rembering when her own father had yelled at her for dating some bad boy, turns out that bad boy became the mayor so jokes on him she chuckled to herself. History sure does repeat itself.

Tommy’s snores came from the back of the room.

“Dipshit wake up” Billy shoved his leg.

“Fuck off” Tommy grumbled, eyes still closed, Carol was gonna kill him.

“Langauge” you scolded both of them, taking Billy into the party again.

“I think we should head to your room” Billy whispered. You gave him a playful smack on the arm.

“We just got told off we can’t do that now-“ Billy held his hand out, a certain pair of lace panties in his palm.

“Why do you have those?!”

“Tommy’s a fucking perv” he grunted, as you both shuffled back into your room.

It was gonna be nice not to have to hide Billy anymore.

[icyharrington]

Heaven In Hell (Michael Langdon X Madison Montgomery X Reader)

this is....very nasty. enjoy :) i didn’t proofread this too hard lol so i apologize for that but hopefully y’all like it anyway lmao

plot: michael langdon has come to save you from your own personal hell, and he has madison montgomery in tow. you both decide to thank him for his efforts.

warnings: fem!Reader, f/f/m threesome, hawthorne!michael, blowjobs, lesbian sex, cunnilingus, sexual intercourse, face riding, spanking, murder(lmao), and the works lol

word count: 5.1k

tags: @chloerrose @pastatophhistory @lttlcoven @prettykitten123 @langdonsrapture @thefakestthot @obsessivenostalgicbaby @cerrychenly @babyhoney-coco @helloitsmestar @80seddie @lambofcairo @jcshadowkiss-blog @kinkylangdon @belusima @errmynee @casualtears @madhatterweasley @meeeeeeeeeps @sassylangdon @langdonsdemon @princessd1e @laurahollislovescarmilla @speakingofmemess @sodanova

Knock knock knock.

You were lying on your back, staring up at the discolored, cracked ceiling above you when you heard it. You hardly reacted, just barely turning your head to one side, cheek brushing the foul-smelling pillowcase propped under your neck. Somehow, each time you attempted to change the pillowcase, it ended up smelling even worse than the last. It was frustrating, considering the only other place you could possibly sleep was the floor, and you’d seen roaches scuttling across the carpet one too many times to feel comfortable doing that. It made sense to you, though.

This was hell, after all.

You’d been trapped there ever since you’d attempted descensum during the seven wonders test with the rest of your coven; you had no idea how long ago it had even happened. In hell, there was no division of day or night- only endless hours ticking on for all eternity. For all you knew, the world could be burnt to a crisp. It didn’t matter; you were going to be stuck here forever. At this point you’d gotten used to it.

Knock knock knock.

The knocks came louder now, and you scowled, imagining your seedy landlord standing outside, holding your eviction notice in one hand. It happened so frequently that you’d stopped being affected by it: he’d tell you that you hadn’t paid your rent in months, and you’d cringe at his lower row of crooked yellow teeth and the foul smell of his breath. Maybe you can convince me not to evict you, though, he’d say, coming closer to you, making you gag as his filthy hands reached out to brush your skin. And then you’d scream at him to leave, and then it would happen all over again.

You grunted, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, scanning the floor for any sort of crawling creature before you set your feet down. Pulling your moth-eaten sweater tighter against your body, you shivered, because of fucking course it was perpetually winter in your personal hell, and of course the heat was always turned off.

Knock knock knock.

“I’m coming,” you shouted, turning the doorknob and yanking it open.

There was your landlord, scraggly porn-stache and all, his beady eyes wandering over you with the discretion of a twelve year old boy.

“Let me guess,” you said in a monotone, crossing your arms in front of you. “I haven’t paid the rent in three months.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to evict you,” he said. You mouthed the words to yourself as he spoke, having memorized them from hearing them so many times before. He said the exact same thing every time- you would’ve thought that there would be a bit more variety in hell, but apparently not. “Unless…” he ran his tongue over his thin upper lip, wrinkles in his face deepening as he gave you a coy smirk.

“I wouldn’t touch your shriveled dick with a foot-long pole,” you said flatly. He hardly reacted, only taking a step forward into your room, liver-spot covered hands reaching down to grab at his crotch. He licked his lips again, and you expected him to continue on with his attempt at seduction, but instead his head was jerked back by his hair, the assailant obscured in the shadows. You watched in shock as a blade was then yanked harshly across the man’s throat, ushering forward a fountain of blood as he let out a pathetic gurgling noise. He dropped to the ground limply, revealing in the doorway a man that you didn’t recognize.

He was handsome, with well-styled blond hair and angular features. He was dressed in all black, save for a white collar, which was accentuated with a neatly tied ribbon. He took one look at your slack-jawed expression and smirked, folding his hands behind him.

“Hello, (y/n),” he said calmly. “My name is Michael.”

“You’re- you aren’t…from here,” you mumbled, eyes wide as saucers, unsure of what to make of all this.

“So you know where you are?” Michael asked, tilting his head to one side. You couldn’t help but admire the beauty of this man, mouth nearly watering as you regarded each perfect feature of his face. It’d been so long since you’d actually seen someone other than your landlord, who you were sure had been designed specifically by Satan to repulse you.

“Hell,” you said.

“Mhm.” He looked down at the landlord’s body with a disinterested expression, carefully stepping over him to join you inside the tiny apartment. His pale eyes scanned over the contents of the room, which wasn’t much; his lips turned down slightly in disgust, taking in the stained walls and dirty carpet, and you almost felt embarrassed, as if you had any sort of control over this place. “You won’t be for long, though. I’m the man that’s gonna get you out of here.”

You narrowed your eyes, searching for any hint of jest beyond the man’s stoic face, but there was none. “That’s impossible,” you said softly, but you were hopeful, perhaps against your best interest. This was probably just a sick joke, meant to throw you off and make you think you had a chance of escape before tearing it all away.

His lips curved up slightly, and you drew in a breath. “I have someone here with me who might convince you otherwise.”

He held his hand out towards the door, and from the shadowy hallway, sprang a petite blonde. And not just any petite blonde, you quickly realized.

It was Madison fucking Montgomery.

Jumping over the limp body of your former landlord, she pounced on you before you had time to say anything, squeezing you so tight you could hardly breathe. Immediately you reciprocated, burying your head in the crook of her neck. She smelled exactly as you’d remembered, like hairspray and expensive perfume, and you sobbed into her shoulder as she pulled you against her.

“(Y/n), I can’t believe I’m actually seeing you again,” she sighed, pulling away to look at you. God, she was beautiful, and you couldn’t believe you’d almost forgotten. Her large brown eyes were rimmed with tears as she stared at you, plump bottom lip wobbling despite the huge smile on her face.

“Madison,” was all you could muster, all at once overcome with happiness, laughter spilling past your lips uncontrollably. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I was in hell, too,” she said. “But this guy came and saved me. And now he’s gonna save you.”

“You died?” The last thing you remembered, Madison had gone to perform descensum with the rest of the coven. Had she gotten trapped, too?

“Long story,” she said with a dismissive eye roll, reaching up to wipe away her tears. “What’s important is that we’re both getting the fuck out of here.”

She took a second to look around the room, scrunching up her face as a roach made its way past her foot and towards the bathroom. “I honestly didn’t think anything could be worse than my personal retail hell,” she remarked. “But this is pretty fucking close.”

“I know, right?” you said, unable to stop yourself from running your hands up and down Madison’s slim hips. It was hard not to indulge yourself in human contact after spending an eternity in hell, especially when you were being visited by the girl you used to fuck regularly back on earth.

You and Madison hadn’t ever established your relationship when you were alive; she was always your best friend, who you just so happened to have a lot of sex with. Sometimes you’d cuddle afterwards, and you’d definitely harbored feelings for the bitchy blonde, but you were never willing to admit it to yourself.

“I missed you so much,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around your neck. You looked at each other for a moment before she pressed her lips against yours, wasting no time before parting her lips and easing her warm tongue into your mouth. You gasped at the feeling, digging your fingers into her hips, almost entirely forgetting that the two of you weren’t alone.

“Fuck, baby,” she said, moving her lips to your jaw and sending vibrations through your body. “I missed that, too.” She brought her hands from around your neck and onto your breasts, squeezing them hungrily through your sweater.

You shifted your gaze towards Michael, who was standing off to the side. “Madison, can we… can we wait til we’re alone?”  

“Why?” she breathed, trailing kisses down onto your neck. “I wanna fuck you now. Right here in hell, baby.”

You couldn’t deny the aching sensation that had begun to make itself known between your thighs, but the thought of this all happening in front of someone was a little too much, even for you.

“What about…” you said, voice trailing off when you turned to look in Michael’s direction. His face was devoid of any expression as he looked off to the side awkwardly, but you could tell he was somewhat uncomfortable.

“What about what, baby?” she said, biting your earlobe and pulling at it. “I’m sure Michael wouldn’t mind seeing two hot girls fucking. I’ll bet he’d even wanna join in.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you saw Michael jerk his head towards the both of you, a light flush crossing his cheeks.

“And I think he deserves a thank-you for rescuing us, don’t you think?”

You chewed your bottom lip, considering this. You hardly knew this man, and you’d never been involved in a threesome before, but the idea was no doubt turning you on. You shifted, becoming painfully aware of the moisture soaking through your underwear, and you felt Madison’s hands move onto your ass.

“O-okay,” you said finally. Fuck it, you thought. What did you have to lose?

Madison beamed, before turning around and making her way over to Michael, blinking innocently as she reached for his hand.

“What do you say, daddy?” she cooed, bringing his fingers to her lips and taking two of them into her mouth. Michael seemed stunned, but from the growing bulge in the front of his trousers, it was obvious that the idea had excited him. Making a show of sucking Michael’s long fingers, Madison allowed her eyes to flutter shut as a soft moan left her mouth.

He hummed, leaving behind his momentary shyness in favor of a more confident attitude. “I suppose it’d be nice to be thanked for my efforts,” he said, voice rich and smooth and low. Madison smirked, pulling his fingers from her mouth with a pop, and without missing a beat dropped onto her knees in front of him.

She turned to you, lips twitching as she worked open the front of Michael’s pants. “Come on, (y/n),” she said, working the material partly down his thighs and hooking her fingers into the waistband of his boxers. “We have some thanking to do.”

Timidly, you joined Madison on your knees, blushing when your eyes met Michael’s hooded ones. He had a cocky half-smile across his full lips, and you certainly couldn’t blame him; he had two girls in front of him on their knees, practically begging to suck him off. What other response was there besides being cocky?

Madison pulled down his boxers, letting the fabric bunch up with his pants around his muscular thighs. His cock sprung free, fully hard, and you and Madison exchanged an eager glance at the sight. He was big, that was for sure, with beads of precum leaking down from the flush head. Madison leaned forward and darted her tongue out, lapping at the precum and wrapping her fist loosely around his base.

Desperate for a taste of him, you craned your neck and took one of his balls into your mouth, reveling in the salty flavor of his warm skin. He hissed at the sensation of two mouths on him, Madison’s eyes rolling back into her head as she slid her head further down on his thick cock. She dropped her hand down, placing it instead on your thigh, and you took the opportunity to administer slow licks onto his veiny shaft.

“So desperate to taste me,” Michael groaned, and you returned your attention to his balls, working at one with your mouth while you cupped the other in one hand. You kept your eyes open, watching Madison in awe as she took his entire length into her mouth, nose brushing the soft blonde tuft of curls at his pelvis. “Good girl.”

He thrust his hips forward slightly, wrapping his fingers around the base of her blond ponytail and tugging her towards him. A muffled choking sound escaped her throat, but she continued on like a pro, bobbing her head up and down and letting him brush the back of her throat every time.

Suddenly she pulled back, taking him out of her mouth but lingering at the flushed tip, licking across his slit one final time.

“C’mere, baby,” she said to you hoarsely, moving to the side so you could take her place. You scooted over, wasting no time before taking hold of Michael’s length; Madison stroked your hair, gathering it behind you and holding it out of your face as you took several inches of him into your mouth. His cock was already wet with Madison’s saliva, but you didn’t care- you circled your tongue lazily over the head, eyelids drooping as the taste of his skin filled your mouth.

You heard Michael exhale loudly, and then he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you all the way down his cock until you reached your hand. There was a shuffling noise as Madison let go of your hair and moved around beside you, and you peered over to find her undressing herself. She’d removed her shirt already, leaving her in a simple nude colored bra, and was already working off her unfashionable work pants that somehow still managed to look good on her.

You took your hand off of Michael’s length so you could take more of him into your mouth, instead placing it on his hip, tears prickling your eyes when you felt him reach your throat. Madison had done it so effortlessly, even looking pretty while taking cock deep into her throat, and you couldn’t understand how she could be so perfect at everything she did. You were struggling, reminding yourself to take shallow breaths in through your nose, jaw aching as you kept it unhinged. Still, though, you were enjoying yourself, and the way you were making Michael moan.

You felt saliva begin to dribble down your chin as Michael bucked forward into you a few times, yanking your hair at the root painfully so you couldn’t move away. He was grunting noisily, pushing himself deep, your fingernails digging into his skin hard enough to leave marks. Then, unexpectedly, he pulled out of you, his massive cock gleaming with spit in front of your face. You averted your gaze up to him, blinking a few times to rid your eyes of the tears, and he flashed a smile so subtle you almost thought you’d imagined it.

“You two. Get up,” he said, his tone authoritative and even. You jumped to your feet, maybe with a bit too much enthusiasm, because he chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously as Madison followed suit. She was only in her underwear now, nothing remarkably sexy, but in all honesty, everything looked sexy on Madison Montgomery.

Madison took your arms and adjusted you to face her, proceeding to tug your sweater off over your head, leaving you in a simple cotton bra. Next came your leggings, which she shimmied down your lower body, and you kicked them haphazardly to the side.

“What do you want us to do, daddy?” she purred, twirling her hair around one finger and batting her eyes. You sank your teeth into your lower lip, pressing your legs together in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing between them.

Michael’s lips twitched, reaching down to pull his pants back up and tuck himself inside. “I want you to show each other how happy you are to be reunited.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice; Madison embraced you, planting a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips. She moved with the kiss, easing you back towards the bed, hands groping hungrily at your thighs and ass. She paused to bite your lower lip, rolling it between her teeth while turning the both of you around so that she was sitting on the edge of your bed. You straddled her, her hands instantly finding their way onto the soft curves of your ass, lips attaching to the delicate skin above your collarbone. Snaking her hands around to your back, she expertly unclasped your bra in a matter of seconds; you drew away, giving her room to slip the garment off entirely, exposing your hardened nipples to the cool air.

“Fuck, I missed you,” she mumbled before licking your nipple, your body erupting in goosebumps at the warm sensation. She nipped slightly at the peak of your skin, making you squirm, and then moved on to suck gently on your areola.

“God, Madison,” you whispered, rolling your hips instinctively so you could feel the friction of her thighs against your crotch. She inched upwards to the skin above your nipple, giving you an open-mouthed kiss before applying suction, obviously intending to leave a hickey. Madison had always loved marking you, and you loved being marked; the more bruises you were left with, the better.

She nibbled on you, jolting you with both pleasure and slight pain, darting her tongue over where she’d bitten afterwards. Then she brought her head up from your chest to meet your eyes, and you brushed your lips against hers once again, teeth clashing as the kiss became rough and needy.

She held onto your waist, falling backwards onto the bed, pulling you on top of her in the process. Moaning into her mouth, you reached between her legs and palmed her through her dampened underwear, so worked up that Michael was only an afterthought.

You broke the kiss and turned over your shoulder, shooting Michael a coy look, excited to see his reaction. He was standing a few feet away, digging the heel of his palm into his bulge, light eyes fixated closely on you and Madison.

“Go on,” he croaked, wetting his lips. He nodded his head, urging you to continue on, and you slipped yourself off of Madison and stood up at the edge of the bed.

“I can’t wait to finally taste you again,” you said, gesturing for Madison to move further up on the bed. She did, eyes glazed and heavy-lidded as she surveyed you, gripping the sheets until her knuckles turned white. You joined her back on the bed, kneeling on the edge as you admired her petite body, cream colored skin smooth and soft. You crawled your way up between her legs, giving gentle kisses to her jaw and neck until you reached the front of her throat, administering a slightly harsher nip, allowing yourself a few moments of distraction to leave a blooming bruise there.

She was always so responsive to your touch, writhing beneath the weight of your body and throwing her head back into the pillows. You pulled her bra straps down her slender shoulders, hoisting her up slightly to undo the clasp. She finished taking it off, flinging the bra onto the floor, and for a fleeting moment you remembered that technically, you were about to have sex in a dingy, dirty apartment infested with roaches.

Whatever, you thought, traveling down Madison’s body, slipping down her underwear and leaving her bare. None of this place is real, anyway. It’s just hell.

You kissed her stomach tenderly, creeping downwards to reach her pelvis and then her inner thighs, intentionally avoiding her dripping center for the time being. Reaching underneath her thighs and wrapping your hands around to get a good hold, you opened her legs, blowing cool air onto her slit. She whimpered, entwining her fingers with your hair and pulling you towards her.

“Please,” she whined, spreading her legs further, and you slid your tongue along the innermost part of one thigh teasingly. She whimpered loudly, tightening her grip on your hair, and without warning you plunged yourself forward.

You licked up between her folds, taking one hand from her thigh and instead using it to spread her outer lips as you swirled your tongue over her opening. She was so wet, her juices were starting to leak down her inner thighs and onto the sheets below, and you dipped your tongue past her entrance, reveling in her taste.

A string of expletives left her mouth, chest rising and falling as she fought to catch her breath, and you pushed your tongue further inside her while using your hand to rub small circles on her aching clit.

You felt the bed dip behind you, and then a pair of large hands grasped your hips firmly; you were pulled upwards, your hips high in the air while your face remained buried in Madison’s heat, shivering when Michael poked at your ass with his freed erection.

You heard Michael inhale sharply, his hands tracing down your spine and onto the small of your back before he slid his cock down through your folds and pushed the head against your opening. You groaned lowly against Madison, repositioning your head so you could focus on her clit, forming shapes on it rapidly with your tongue.

Michael sighed, entering you with one hand on your ass cheek. Your mouth fell open, forgetting about Madison as you felt your tight walls stretch for the first time in an eternity. “Fuck,” you muttered, pressing your bitten red lips against Madison’s clit, eliciting a rapturous moan from the brown-eyed blonde.

Testing the waters, Michael rutted his hips delicately, getting you used to the feeling of his cock inside you. He was massive, to the point where it almost hurt the deeper he went, but your natural moisture made it far easier for him to start sliding in and out. You tried your best to remain composed as you worked at Madison’s clit, bringing one shaky hand to her opening so you could slide two fingers inside of her, but it was hard not to let out a moan at the snug feeling of Michael’s cock. He clutched at the padded skin between your hips and thighs hard enough to bruise, snapping his hips forward forcefully, and you cried out.

It wasn’t long before Michael was fucking you hard and deep, pushing into you with thrust after ruthless thrust, eyes rolling back into your head as your fingers continued to pump sloppily in and out of Madison. With each sound that passed your lips, you’d send vibrations up throughout her, your tongue swirling over her bud as her entire body tensed and shook.

This was crazy, so fucking crazy, but you were in hell and nothing made sense and right now, nothing mattered but chasing your pleasure. You bucked your hips back towards this enigmatic man, your supposed savior, and it occurred to you that you didn’t care if this was all just a figment of your imagination, if he really had no real intentions of saving your soul. This, alone, was enough for you.

“You take— my cock—so well,” Michael panted, his words breaking up with each decadent thrust of his hips. Your pace quickened inside Madison, no longer in full control of your actions as Michael worked you open, hot cheek pressing against Madison’s slim inner thigh.

He landed a harsh slap onto your ass cheek and you whimpered, the stinging sensation shooting straight down between your legs and only intensifying the wetness there. Upon seeing your reaction, he took a fist full of your ass in his hand and spread you, digging his fingernails into your skin with enough force to draw blood.

“God,” you rasped, your entire body shifting up the bed, scissoring your fingers apart inside Madison before adding a third. Madison’s moans were rampant now, high-pitched and shameless, her fingers tweaking her perfectly upturned nipples as you worked at her.

Abruptly, Madison took you by your hair and brought you away from her wetness, taking a few seconds to catch her breath before speaking. Chest rising and falling, she looked at you through lust-filled eyes, gesturing towards Michael who had stilled his cock inside you. “Do you mind if I steal him from you? I’ve been craving dick for the longest time.”

You laughed, nodding as Michael slipped out of you, your juices dripping down your legs. You wanted to whine at the lack of penetration, but you knew that Madison would make it up to you soon enough, and it would be worth the wait. Madison slipped herself off the bed, looking deliciously debauched with hair in disarray and lips glossy with spit, and you followed, finally able to get a good look at Michael.

His lightly gelled hair had softened from its hold, falling in loose waves around his face, framing his chiseled jaw. He’d apparently undressed himself fully while you and Madison had been on the bed together, his naked chest glowing with perspiration. He looked godlike, on his knees with his legs parted, cock hard enough to brush against his flat stomach and glistening with your juices.

“I’ll take over from here,” said Madison as she cocked her head to one side, oozing confidence and power. That’s my girl, you thought to yourself, feeling a fresh wave of arousal wash over you as she climbed back onto the bed, pushing Michael onto his back and kneeling on either side of his torso. If Michael was a god, then Madison had to be a goddess; she reached up behind her to take her hair down from its modest ponytail, shaking it out so it fell over her shoulders in silky waves, smirking down at an entranced Michael beneath her. “(Y/n), come here, and let Michael taste you.”

You obliged, getting back on the bed and adjusting yourself over Michael’s head; he ran his hands up along the plush outside of your thighs, and you winced when you felt him stroke at the spots he’d grabbed earlier, surely having left deep purple splotches in the process. You lowered yourself down onto his face while Madison did the same on his cock, holding onto his thick shaft as she eased herself onto him.

The noise was vulgar and wet; she glided down onto him without any resistance, Michael’s moans reverberating throughout you when his mouth reached your folds. He took a long lick up between your outer lips, growing impatient soon after and bringing you to fully take him over, his mouth completely devouring you like he was starving.

Madison took to bouncing on Michael’s cock, clearly experienced in this; her small, rounded breasts bounced obscenely, and it took everything inside you not to close your eyes as Michael lapped wildly at your center. She was so fucking beautiful it was surreal, looking like an angel from a Renaissance painting as her curvaceous hips rolled with Michael’s pelvis.

Michael left one hand on your hip, using the other to grope Madison’s tits without much finesse, thumb roughly caressing her nipple. His mouth was almost as good as his cock, and it was difficult not to lose control and completely suffocate him, his tongue maneuvering between your clit and folds skillfully.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Madison praised, impaling herself deeper on Michael and circling her hips to feel every inch of him. This caused Michael to groan loudly against you, your breath hitching and head tilting back towards the ceiling- you knew you were close.

Madison took both of your clammy hands in hers, guiding them up to her breasts as Michael moved his hand back to your hip, and gratefully you palmed them, her fingers loosely settled around your wrists. You leaned your upper body forward upon seeing Madison do so, and she kissed you, running her tongue along your puffy lower lip and jamming it between your teeth impatiently as both of you used Michael’s body.

You swallowed Madison’s moan, her breaths quickening, and you could tell that she, too, was close; you bit her lower lip and pulled it back towards you, massaging her breasts in your hands, sweat trickling down your forehead.

A pair of large hands forced you down so you were entirely on top of Michael’s face, his tongue reaching parts of you that you didn’t know existed, and then a cacophony of colors erupted before your eyes; a white-hot sensation enveloped you, and for the first time in an eternity, you orgasmed, incoherent words leaving your lips and falling into Madison’s opened mouth.

It took you a long time to recover, and by the time your vision had un-blurred, Madison and Michael had both had their own respective orgasms. You wished you could’ve seen Madison as she was pushed over the edge, but you knew when you returned from hell, you’d have all the time in the world to watch her cum over and over and over again. And for that, you were beyond grateful.

You got up off of Michael, his plump mouth gleaming from having been buried between your thighs, hooded eyes vacant and drooping as his pale chest rose and fell. Madison removed herself from him, bending down to place a chaste kiss on his lips and running her tongue across her top lip.

“You taste just as good as I remembered, baby,” she said, raising one eyebrow at you suggestively, and you just shook your head and laughed. Michael twirled his wrist limply, still wiped out from his climax; on cue, the three of you were dressed again, this time in far nicer clothing than before. You considered questioning this ability, but then remembered he had literally been able to descend into hell to save you- you doubted there was anything he couldn’t do.

Michael got off the bed and stood up, examining his arms for any creases in his jacket. Then he smiled, appearing unaffected by what had just happened, cool and composed in his exterior. He extended his arms towards the both of you, indicating for you and Madison to latch onto them, and you did. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” said Madison with a scoff. “I can’t wait to get out of this shithole.”

What a perfect last day in hell, you thought, as Michael shut his eyes and began to recite something under his breath. You took in a breath, and all at once the world dropped dead.

When the light seeped back in, you felt a soft breeze against your face, pure and soft. You didn’t need to adjust your vision to know you were back on earth. Back home.

The eternity had finally ended.

[lesbian-raichu]

HAPPY ENTIRE MONTH OF HALLOWEEN

Here’s a short scary story - this is “Case 45: Medical Institute of Arkansas” (Continued under the cut)             Heya Sunshine, Found this out in the woods near the clubhouse. Looks like a letter or something spooky like that so I figured it might be something you’re into. I started reading on the way back it but tripped like a dumbass - I can’t fucking walk and read, I’m like a kindergartner. Skinned my hands and everything so the paper got kinda crumpled and gross. My bad. But uh, having blood on this sort of shit makes it more legit maybe? I dunno. You’ve got a better stomach for mysteries than I do. I keep thinking I hear shit behind trees and it’s not even night yet lmao. I’m gonna drop it on the table for you. I’ll call you after my classes are done.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  Love,                                                                                                           C

Medical Institute of Arkansas

Log date: 10.24.2004

Name: Sarita Makwana, Chief Physician

Forgive the frankness with which I am to depict what has transpired. After today, I believe it allowable. I am writing this both to make sense of this and to convey to others what occurred here. Patient zero, James Allison Fitzgerald was committed to my care this morning, by his wife. Initial symptoms were arrhythmia, excessive hypertension, risk of stroke. It was Nurse Ellen Suzuru who performed the MRI, and who deduced based on strain of the heart that there were arterial clogs.

You know what? I am forgoing the lingo. I have no idea when this will get out. I have no idea if anyone will get to read this.

Suzuru did the scan, and as a result, the decision was made to operate. With respect to whomever reads this, I frankly don’t give a damn if we made the right choice or not. We could not have known. The thing about the scans, from what we could see, was that his ribcage looked abnormal. Several of us dismissed it as an injury, a poorly regrown bone, maybe a deformity of the third and fourth ribs. It was inconsequential, if a dying man is brought to a doctor, that doctor has few options. His wife disclosed that James had been experiencing trouble breathing for approximately three days prior to his entry, and that the pains in his chest had started merely an hour before he entered our care. I remember she rambled about a trip to France they had gone on, worrying about salmonella poisoning from snails, and I attempted to calm her down. Her husband was 6’4 and 360 lbs, heart conditions were not improbable. God, I am so tired.

We sedated him and proceeded to open him up, with the plan to insert a few heart stents to improve blood flow. The initial appearance of everything however, was fine. Confoundingly so. James was healthy.

If anything, there was some strain on the heart, but no blockages, blood flow was fine. For all intents and purposes, James had simply overexerted himself, yet when he came in he was half-conscious. At this point, I was confused but intrigued. A healthy dying man, only 40, no pre-existing health conditions. The most I could figure was that if his ribcage was poorly formed, it could  place stress on the organs, but his wife insisted to one of our nurses - Kinnings - that he was as healthy as an ox before last week. And at this point, perhaps I can only laugh, because it feels almost like a joke.

We were paying attention to the wrong thing.There were two other doctors with me - Uzumaka Williams and Desmond Corrigan. Williams said she had cut her hand, and was sent out immediately. I didn’t know how she managed it at the time, she wasn’t holding anything, just examining the patients heart, when she jerked back. She insisted she was fine, but left to avoid contaminating anything. Corrigan left after her to call my assistant. It was after about fifteen minutes of examination, right as the thought crossed my mind that I should simply stitch him up and send him to neurology, that I saw his breastbone, and the ribs curving out of it. I had not cut it out of the way, but somehow it was pushed aside, as though malleable. His ribs had been moved. Corrigan came back with Suzuru, and I asked if he had done anything, or if he’d seen Williams, but he denied both. There was no reason to lie. I wasn’t paying attention. If I had been, I would have noticed that his ribs had moved.  I perhaps would have noticed that the beeping of the heart monitor was not coming from the heart monitor at all. I would have noticed that despite the fact that I felt the patient’s heartbeat, he was dead by the time he came in. Perhaps I would have noticed that James Fitzgerald’s ribs were not ribs at all.

How many doctors does it take to realize that the patient is already dead?

That was my initial assessment, anyway.

I feel ashamed in saying I froze, but we all did. There was a long, loud creaking noise, like a door opening. The sound of beeping was being perfectly mimicked, but no one’s mouth moved. There are different types of fear. The subtle: a general feeling of unease, a pit in the stomach. The frenzied: screaming and crying and begging. Then there is the overpowering: the silencing, no scream can leave you. You’re afraid to utter a sound, afraid to breath, afraid to twitch or run.I could not turn around. God bless Desmond, who tried to attack. God bless Ellen, who tried to get its attention. My good friends, may God bless them, God save them. God help me.

I never turned around. Whatever was inside James’ body was now protruding out of him, able to control his mouth just enough to mimic the beeping, before falling silent. The opening I had made in his chest was stretched, long angled white rib bones - used as legs - lurched him forward, towards Ellen. James’ head lolled around, his mouth agape, tongue out, discoloured and bloated. The legs were segmented and thin, like that of an arachnid, and the host body was dragged along like a puppet, James’ toes dragging and swinging against the ground. I watched, frozen, as two of the sharp, eight protruding bones, stuck into her body and twisted her around, as though she were a mop on the floor. It thrashed her around in the air, and then threw her against the wall. It did the same to Desmond, poking him through the eyes, jabbing his neck erratically, piercing it several times, and shaking him madly in the air with a leg stabbed through his abdomen. An image in my head was of a child shaking a dead goldfish in a plastic baggie. Trying to make it live. Aggressive and spasmodic, able to move with extreme speed in one second, and be eerily stock-still the next.

It swiveled in my direction, twitching like a spider, or a crab, and suddenly James was making sounds. Sobbing, gargling screaming. It felt like there were words in there, distorted. The stresses on syllables felt wrong, like a movie being rewound. He ended the sentence with a long and loud gurgling howl that shook the equipment in the room. At the time, I thought I was spared. I was stabbed once, in my side, thankfully missing my lungs. With monstrous speed, the creature jerkily scuttled away. I stayed with their bodies. I was certain that someone had to have called for help, but it only took me a few hours to realize that even if it came, I wasn’t sure any of us could be saved.

I consider myself a decent doctor. I may be in nowheresville, Arkansas, but I graduated magna cum laude from my university, and chose to stay where I was close to my family. With this in mind, I have to insist - this is not an illness to be cured. This is a parasite, some bone-like tapeworm. I realized this in that time alone, and that with the screaming I heard in the building, both human and parasite, that they were looking for living hosts. Poor Desmond and Ellen were of no use to them.

God I am so tired. I’m going to take a moment. Funny. This isn’t really a report anymore. I’m back. I recorded them, the parasites. I was right about one thing, and wrong about another.

They are speaking, for some reason, backwards. Begging. Calling for loved ones. Asking to be killed.

Which of course means I was wrong. They were never dead. “Consumed” is maybe a better word. The parasite begins its control through the spine, then connects to the brain stem, keeping their human hostage like a flesh puppet. I caught a glimpse of Uzumaka, the spindly legs extending from her torn chest hoisting her around, dangling with her mouth torn at the corners, the sounds she made were the worst of them all.

The Medical Institute has been quarantined. I managed to talk to a few other doctors in Cardiology and Gastroenterology that called the room I was next to. They told me how the parasite was being transmitted. They told me the authorities are planning on burning the building. Several cops that tried to enter to save survivors were killed. The others I heard. The frenzied snapping of bones against tile, the sobbing screams, and the trails of congealing blood that followed the sounds gave me all the information I needed to know. The phone call was cut short, the other doctor had hung up on me while I spoke to them. I went back to my colleagues, my friends, their bodies cold. I have no idea what will happen now. If the quarantine is breached, then God help us.

My hand is seizing up at this point from writing. It’s the only loophole, though. I realized it before Uzumaka did. It’s transmitted through blood, whatever these things are. The smallest cut is too much. Luckily I was stabbed through my right side. I’m left-handed. I lost my motor skills sometime during the phone call, when my colleagues hung up on me, unfortunately, and I suppose my ribs are currently being dissolved by the creature taking their place. I’m writing this in the infinitesimal chance that amidst the destruction, maybe carried by an errant breeze through the window, this letter will get out, and people will know what happened to us. Though that might be selfish, as even this page might be contaminated. If I am being honest, I am too tired. I can’t do more. One of the officers is in the room, across from me, still apart from the body hanging from those towering bones, eyes plucked out, half of his face torn away. And funnily enough, I can understand him. I hear his words, no longer backwards, still wracked with agony.

My name is Sarita Makwana. I am a doctor at the MIA. I love my family. God bless them. God protect them.

And God save me.

[sincognito]

Scales and Bones | Supernatural AU ficlet

Yo! So I’ve finally managed to get out this little ficlet I’ve been planning that is based on @itsladykit  ‘s Atypical fic. Basically just how I think my Papyrus would fit into the AU if he was there - I also added Cash because he seems really interesting so far *-*

I’ve been a little behind on writing but seeing @bonesaws-and-dust  ‘s lovely Naga art I’ve finally been given enough inspiration to finish up this one.

Unedited because I’m lazy lmao. 

“Saw Scaled Vipers include some of the species responsible for causing the most snakebite cases and deaths in the world.”

The warm summer waters were swaying back and forth with the waves, gently rocking the body of the dozing skeleton. He gave the occasional lazy swish of his tail, ensuring he didn’t drift too far towards the shore. Being spotted by some irritating monster or human would only be an inconvenience – it was better to stay closer to the rocky cliffs to avoid notice – he didn’t quite feel like having to throw anyone into the water when he could simply enjoy basking in the sunshine.

He lazily cracked his sockets open, squinting as his eye lights attempted to register his surrounds under such harsh light. Scanning the rocky beach along the water’s edge, he was surprised to spot a small cave opening, and entrance seemingly eroded into the side of the cavern and allowing a small measure of water to enter.

Cash rolled over onto his stomach, using his powerful tail to keep himself upright as he scrutinised it further. He couldn’t exactly say he was familiar with that particular part of the coastline, and the promise of possible exploration and adventure sang out to him, pulling him in closer. Or perhaps it was the tide dragging him closer, he couldn’t tell.

He hummed softly to himself, happily enjoying the sound of his own perfect tone for a few moments in thought before ducking under the water and beginning his approach. He stayed low, shadowing the outline of the coral and jagged stone as he proceeded to stealthily worm his way closer to the cave, pausing every little while to ensure there was no danger. A siren was no creature to be trifled with, but it never hurt to err on the side of caution when traversing unknown waters.

Once he had reached the point where the water flowed into the cave he surfaced again, taking another look. The entrance was far larger than it had appeared, and from his underwater viewing, it was also a lot deeper than he had first expected. Nevertheless, it still appeared to be deserted, despite his inability to see too far into the darkness beyond. However, being a monster used to the dark of the ocean he knew he would have no trouble navigating the tunnels, no matter how far they led.

He calmly sunk once more into the water, beginning to slowly creep through the large underwater passageways. He was forced more than once to use his arms to pull himself through gaps where the water narrowed, but he was otherwise able to simply give a few flicks of his tail to propel himself at a leisurely gait.

From the cave ceiling above hung small worms that were illuminated a bright blue, looking almost like the stars on a clear evening, and whenever Cash happened to breach the surface he would watch as small alien-like insects and lizards scuttled from the light of his magic that seemed unnaturally bright in such a dark place. It was like an entirely different planet, and despite the almost eerie atmosphere, he found himself deeply enchanted by its beauty.

Eventually, the water came to an end with a shallow pool, and the aquatic skeleton was forced to poke his head out of the water and balance on his front arms. The cave seemed to continue onwards, but unlike the area, he had just passed through there was light shining through a small opening at the highest point on the ceiling. It lit up the particles of dust that drifted through the air and cast deep shadows upon all of the stalactites and stalagmites.

The natural cave structure, however, was not what had caught the monster’s interest. Several metres from the water’s edge sat a large chest upon a raised stone platform. While the platform appeared crudely made at best, the chest was obviously something of high craftsmanship, its deep red wooden body, while old, still stood strong against the elements. It was edged with a slightly clouded silver metal that, while coated in a thick layer of dirt and possibly mould, could easily be polished and restored to its former glory. Strangely enough, the box’s wood was intricately carved with ancient etchings of large serpents. It triggered something deep within his memory, but he couldn’t quite recall what.

While normally he would have jumped at the chance to investigate the chest and its contents further, something put his body on edge, sending uneasy shivers all the way from the top of his neck to the tip of his tail. The possibility of finding himself some more riches was exciting, but still, his body screamed of danger and so he moved as slowly and silently as possible through the water and towards the rocky pool’s edge.

He sniffed the air but was uncertain what could be a dangerous creature’s scent and what was simply rot and damp. With each movement timid and carefully placed, the siren gently pulled himself from the water, beginning to drag his lengthy tail across the smooth stone with as little sound as possible.

He took another look around at the cave from his new vantage point, but still saw nothing of danger. However, his with mind reminding him constantly of the exciting chest he had yet to investigate, he was unsure if curiosity did not cloud his senses. Deciding to continue creeping forward, he was pleased when he managed to reach the object of his interest without problem.

Although he tried to pry the box open as slowly and quietly as possible, the rusted hinges creaked awfully and filled the cave with the unavoidably loud echoes. He tensed momentarily, pausing to listen for a moment before rearing up to consider the contents of the chest. He was stunned to find it filled with all manners of riches; and yet they were no common coins or jewellery, but rather elaborate golden tributes to ancient deities and alien objects that he sensed had been somehow enchanted.

In his excitement, Cash reached out to snatch a golden plate to inspect the illustration sketched onto its surface. It was the image of a many-armed human woman, riding astride a fierce tiger, holding weapons in some of her hands. He had never seen this particular goddess before – not that the siren spent much of his time studying ancient cultures – but due to his great love of expensive fabrics and gems, he could tell from the style of the clothing and jewellery adorning the woman that she hailed from some Indian philosophy.

He hummed in interest, his phalanges trailing over the picture and taking in all of the ridges and indents that covered its surface. It would take him many trips if he wanted to add the chest and its insides to his own treasure trove. He began to rummage about, pushing the gold at the top aside so he could search deeper when a sound caught his attention.

Cash’s head shot up from the confines of the wooden chest, his eyes darting around the cavern, but unable to spot what exactly was causing the sound. It was an odd noise to say the least – almost like water sizzling on a heated frypan – it was less than pleasant to listen to and more than a little unnerving. It had begun as only a soft sound, but it rapidly rose in crescendo until the horrible sound practically bounced off the walls.

From the gloom, the siren could only sit and watch as a slim, lengthy body of scales began to slither out from behind a few pillars. It was a serpent and a massive one at that. Its body was lined from head to toe in thick maroon scales and as it swept forward across the floor he could see that it was deliberately scraping the lines of scales against one another, creating the sizzling sound he had been alerted by.

While most of the body resembled a snake, the creature had the torso of a skeleton monster, one of its eyes alight with magic. It hissed softly, tasting the air with its tongue before its eyes settled on the smaller monster before it.

“Easy there, friend, ‘m just passing through,” Cash said quietly in as calm a tone as he could muster. He could feel a cold sweat beginning to form on his skull as he began to try and anxiously inch back towards the water. He knew better than to move too quickly, concerned that he would agitate the monster further, however, every time he attempted to move away the serpent would slither closer, looking him up and down with blazing intensity.

He didn’t even manage to get halfway back to the pool before the snake lunged forward with almost impossible speed. He grunted loudly as he was knocked onto his back, the air knocked from his non-existent lungs as the creature snatched his wrists. His momentary stupefaction gave the reptile just enough time to wind a few of its coils tightly around his waist and tail, ensuring it had a firm hold on him before lifting him up to its eye level.

With every slight relaxation of his tail’s muscles, the snake tightened its hold, quickly beginning to grow uncomfortably constricted. It was then that he was glad he didn’t need to breathe, otherwise, the monster could have easily begun to draw out the oxygen from his lungs and suffocate him a little more with every exhale. “I mean you no harm, Lamia” he choked out, continuing to try and free his arms.

It tilted its head, a soft rumble emanating from its chest, “I’m no Lamia,” it hissed, tongue slipping past its teeth to slide along one of its venomous fangs, “I am obvioussssly a Naga.” The snake, evidently a male from the sound if his voice and the general shape of his body, gave a soft chuckle, the tip of his tail reaching up to bind Cash’s wrists together behind his back.

“Wa’s the difference?” He growled, wincing as the scales jutting from the Naga’s body began to stab into his far less armoured tail. He couldn’t so much as twitch it anymore, only his chest and skull remained free.

The serpent’s jaw pulled upward in an almost playful smirk as his hands lighted upon Cash’s hips, “Nagasss are far sssuperiour to Lamiasss,” he began, humming to himself happily, “We are the guardiansss of ancient templesss and great treasuressss. We are sssemi-divine creaturesss, but you could probably tell that from my ssstriking good looks.”

Cash saw his opportunity for escape, offering a smirk of his own in return, “’course I could, handsome,” seduction was his forte – he wouldn’t make a very good siren if he couldn’t tell people exactly what they wanted to hear in order to lure them in – he slipped into the same mindset he used to trick unwary humans and monsters to their demise as easily as flicking a switch, “You’re feelin’ a little cold there, how’s about I help keep you warm?”

The Naga’s grip on him loosened as it moved closer, pressing its exposed ribs against Cash’s with what almost sounded like a purr, melting into the monster’s warmth. “Tha’s better now, isn’t it?” The snake was growing unweary, just like any monster beginning to fall under the siren’s charm, his body growing slacker with every passing moment and every silken word from the aquatic monster’s mouth.

“Mmm,” the serpent hummed back, tail uncoiling from Cash’s arms as he begun to slip into a relaxed haze. “I sssuppossse you’re not that bad, little fish,” He started to hum louder when the siren reached out and began to massage his ribs, his grip on the monster’s hips and tail almost non-existent.

Cash saw his opportunity, twisting from the creature’s grasp and practically throwing himself at the nearby water. He ignored the outraged snarl from the monster behind him, sliding across the ground faster than he’s ever moved in his life before plunging into the cool water. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite make it, a hand snatching his tail before he had the chance to flee and beginning to drag him back and out of the water.

He began thrashing in panic, scrabbling at anything he could take a hold of before the serpent could get a proper hold on him. There was a sudden pain that shot through his fins as something sharp clamped down on them, easily piercing the soft ectoflesh. He wrenched his tail away from whatever had impaled his tail, feeling another sudden burst of pain as he managed to reclaim his lower half.

Without sparing another moment the siren was racing back through the caverns, ignoring the scrapes he gained from moving so irrationally through the narrow tunnels. Even under the water, he could hear the distant sound of the snake’s scales rubbing up against one another, spurring him on like a whip to a racehorse.

He dove out from the cave’s entrance, not caring if he was seen anymore, refusing to slow his rapid pace until he was back in familiar water far, far away.

Cash allowed himself to sink into the water, closing his eyes as he relived his rather narrow escape, breathing heavily. He certainly wouldn’t be going back for that treasure. With a grimace of pain, he looked down at his tail, frowning at the way the large fin had been torn apart, a small trail of his magic drifting from the open wound.

He reached out and touched the injury, his eyes narrowing at the slightly discoloured magic leaking out from alongside his ‘blood’. He began to rub at his temples, sighing softly as he felt a headache beginning to grow. However, his mind had begun to cloud over, making focusing quite a troublesome task.

Sensing something was wrong, he slowly swam towards a large gathering of rocks poking just above the water’s surface. With no little amount of effort thanks to the numerous golden chains hanging from his neck, he hauled himself onto the stones, laying himself down and glancing down to inspect his tail closer. From where the fin had been pierced, lines of maroon magic had started to wind up through his veins, infecting the limb with what he could only assume was some kind of venom.

He cursed, gritting his teeth as a foul mixture of bile and magic began to rise up into his throat, his head spinning and rendering him limp. He was no expert in healing magic, nor with venoms and potions, but even if he had been he wasn’t sure he could hold focus long enough to do anything substantial.

Cash closed his eyes, grumbling quietly to himself, a mixture of curses and complaints. He lay still, resigning himself to simply waiting until the venom’s potency had dropped and its effects wore off… or the possibility that they wouldn’t.

“The creator deity Brahma commanded Nagas to bite only the truly evil or those destined to die prematurely.”

[the-mf-bread-babies]

1/8/20

VOLUME FOUR, PART TWO~!

WHO ELSE IS WRITING IT?! ROCCO NORTH, BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CHAPTER ONE

I CHANGED MY MIND HE DOESN'T GET KIDNAPPED lmao

After their work in protecting the house, the family went to bed. Well, except for Aaron, who watched Damon sleep just in case he died or anything.

The next morning, they woke up peacefully, to the sound of–

EXPLOOOSIIOOONNSSS!!!

Well, SHIT !!! Aaron, passed out from tiredness was still sleeping on the floor, though. “Aaron!! Wake the hell up, there's bombs!!” Damon shouted, repeatedly slapping Aaron's face. “Huh…?” Damon gave up and dragged his dad across the bedroom floor. “Hey, hey, I can walk, dude,” Aaron assured, slowly standing up.

A loud boom echoed throughout the house, alerting them even more. Although, it didn't seem like it came from an explosive, but rather, an impact. Their first thoughts were that NULL was using a battering ram on their front door.

The family assembled in the basement, equipped with weapons and protection. “So, what the hell's goin’ on now?” Gabriel asked. “Man, I thought you were gonna explain it or something.” Damon sighed as he looked at the others. “Dennis?” “I literally was friggin’ shaving when I heard the sounds?” he uselessly explained. “I was performing satanic rituals for the plants.” Lan confessed. “Okay, dad, but seriously, where are these guys?” Aaron grumbled, rubbing his forehead.

CRASH!

A hole formed in the stone basement ceiling as it came crashing down, sunlight shining into the area. A small woman whose grey hair covered her whole body to her knees swiftly emerged from the rubble, dusting herself off and hopping back outside.

“Who. Who was that.” Gabriel asked. “Do we have banshees here?” Lan added. “To my knowledge, the only ghosts related to Irish folklore in this house are the deer leg ladies and the lady who keeps using the washing machine to wash medieval armor.” Aaron explained. “Other than that, nada,”

The family halted their conversation as they heard the sound of multiple people screaming for their lives. “Okay, well, what's that?” Gabriel asked. “I– Dad, I don't even know where the rubble lady came from!” Aaron whined, the screaming still in the background.

ace: “die, bitches!”

“Yeah, pretty sure that's not NULL,” Lan pointed out. “Their agents get shot on sight after using foul language.” He revealed. “Really?” Damon asked, thinking about how bad of an agent he would be if he was recruited. “No, I just made that up.” Lan confessed, smirking. “Why…” Gabriel questioned, looking at him with a disappointed face. “Why not?”

nova: “OOH, A STUN GUN, OH NO!”

“HOWEVER WILL WE MAKE IT OUT ALIVE?!”

“HELP~!”

The four paused, noticing a third person in the fight. “Rude.” Damon commented at the girl's behavior.

sarah: “guys i accidentally fricked up the floor”

“do we have to pay insurance or whatever”

“also whats insurance”

ace: “it's a scam designed for you to die.”

Andre: “What Ace said. Also, pretty sure we don't have to do anything, since this place is a ghost town, anyways.”

jake: “mhm also theres probably horses or w/ever so watch out for that lol”

orc: “I SAW A PILE OF FROGS EARLIER”

j: “or that sometimes yknow”

The family peeked their heads out from inside, eavesdropping on the conversation.

o: “YEA BUT THE THING IS”

“I DONT KNOW HOW TO HOLD FROGS”

sar: “you have to like. gently carry those gentlemen around. palm at the side, fingers supporting their body and your thumb keeps them in place, orc, my friend,”

a: “ALSO SPRAY THE BITCHES!”

s: “yea spray them they like it it's fun n stuff”

andre: “Where. Where's the little froggies.”

j: “idk im scared”

a: “coward”

o: “ALSO SCARED OF FROGS”

“THEY ARE METAPHORICALLY CHILDREN”

s: “explain”

o: “SMALL AND CAN DIE EASILY ALSO WEIRDLY SLIMY AND SOFT”

andre: “Babies aren't slimy tho…”

o: “FLORIDA”

an: “oh ok”

“NULL doesn't usually talk about frogs.” Dennis pointed out. “They don't.” Damon agreed. “Also, they don't have members that tall. Or short.” Aaron commented. “Rebel gang?” Lan suggested. Gabriel squinted his eyes, staring at the group. “Last time I checked, undercover NULL agents, even if they exist, don't hide that kind of hair under their helmets. That kid next to the banshee there definitely does not have helmet hair, I mean, the volume and all…”

“hmm? i think those are peeeoopleeee” “guyss” The stylish hair kid pointed out. “cuz i dont think horses look like that!!!!!!!” they exclaimed, strutting towards the basement. “im scared” “help” “yall” “yall means all” they continued, facing their group. “Well, damn, Ace, if it's a horse, give it a carrot or something.” another voice said nonchalantly.

“meanie” “ill kill u” Ace threatened threateningly. “I CAN GO WITH YOU IF YOU WANT!!” A voice offered politely. “thanks nova!!!!!!! andre u can choke” Ace thanked, proceeding with Nova to the basement, the family anxiously awaiting them.

Ace had a normal, skinny, 5'7"-ish body, and they had a sharp jaw and small eyes. Their hair was brightly colored, with brown roots turning into an orange and then into a red, with yellow tips. They were wearing a gray vest above a loose black sleeveless shirt. Also jeans and shoes. Ace is not naked or something.

Nova, on the other hand, towered over Ace. She wore a trucker hat that pushed down her thick hair enough to cover her eyes, and it was tied into two big puffs. Her hair was dyed different shades of green in small spots, making it look like a small, bright shrub sitting on her head. She wore a denim jacket with lots of enamel pins stuck to it. Beneath that was a grey t-shirt, and below that were ripped jeans and UGG boots… somehow, in the amalgamated world.

“Hi! We're the Russell family!” Aaron welcomed, nearly giving them heart attacks by LOON∆ i should listem to that again. “What the fuck?!” Andre remarked, leading the rest into the basement. He was wearing a silky-looking black button-up shirt with a red tie with dress shoes, and his dreadlocks were neatly tied back. He certainly wore a fancy look for raiding NULL bases.

“Yeah, I'm Aaron, this is my dad Gabriel, my dad Lan, my husband Dennis, and my son, (no matter what,) Damon. We have 36 cats and countless ghosts here. Please proceed with caution, most of these babies are strictly indoors-only!”

The group stared at them in shock, unable to believe anything Aaron just said. “How… do you get… 36 cats…” Andre asked. “We used to have a pet shop. It fell down, though, so that's that.” Dennis answered casually. “like. how. like fell down into space” A blue-haired man asked, earning him Damon's full attention.

“Yeah, into space.” Gabriel said. “Just straight down.” Lan elaborated, “No stops or anything, just ZOOP!” “Yeah, that's why we moved into a haunted mansion.” Aaron added. “So, what group are you guys in?” he asked, making a head shoot up in surprise from one of them.

He had gelled blue hair parted in the middle, and his right eye seemed like it had something inserted in it. He wore a dark blue denim jacket with ripped off sleeves and very short, tight jorts. He also had black wristbands, indicating a past emo phase. Or one that's still ongoing, as made obvious by his combat boots.

“oh its kinda indie u guys. u guys probably dont know it :,(” The blue-haired man said sadly, pouting. “We're called the…” Andre began. “C'mon, Jakey, say it.” “no its dumb” he grumbled. “skullsmashers. it's because we smash people's skulls. metaphorically.” Ace explained, asking Jake for confirmation. “right, 8-ball?”

“we really dont......” Jakey/8-Ball said sadly. “Oh, you named us this, Jakey, honey,” Andre contested. “So why can't we smash people's skulls? Like, clearly, I can take the emotional trauma or whatever, as long as it's NULL, or hell, maybe even some dipshit, I can do that.” he added softly.

“Ah, pretty sure they're not NULL,” Lan said, smiling. “So, did you kill them all of them or what?” he asked as he raised his weapon, a mace he was somehow managing to hold with ease. Like. A mace with spikes. Ace nervously played with their hair, sporting a terrified face. “what!?” they exclaimed in a high-pitched voice. “We can definitely take care of them. How do you think this place is officially a ghost town?” Gabriel asked. “Setting up traps and making friends with the local ghosts go a long way, y'know,”

“There's fucking ghosts?!” Andre exclaimed, pulling out daggers from under his arms. “Yeah, but they're nice, so it's okay.” Damon explained with not a trace of fear in his eyes, making Andre slowly put the daggers back in. “Oh, by the way, if you guys see an arm there, could you get it for me?” he requested politely, “And honestly, I'd like to make a pun with lending hands, but I can't seem to put my finger on which one I'd make.” He added, raising his bandaged stump.

“Oh, Jake, don't–” Andre warned before Jake fainted instantly from seeing the bloody bandages on Damon's wound. “I'm sorry,” he apologized. The fainting had sent Aaron quickly went to the operating room, just now realising that he hasn't changed the bandages yet. “uh lemme go check if theres any” the small woman said, scuttling away. “Thanks,” Damon said before following Aaron.

Dennis, Lan, and Gabriel stood awkwardly in front of The Skullsmashers, not knowing what to do. “So, uh, whaddya do?” Dennis asked, folding his hands together. “gamign” Ace quickly responded. “Well, we each tend to go our own ways, but occasionally we team up to raid NULL bases and stuff.” Andre explained, ignoring Ace's statement. “What about you guys?”

“Ah, so I like gardening, and also do some baking from time to time, and Gabriel here used to be a traveling psychic, but now he tends to help me with errands and chores and sometimes we communicate with the ghosts here. Dennis and Aaron used to run a pet shop near here, but now Dennis does some farming, and Aaron spends his spare time caring for our pets.” Lan explained.

“And I do the groceries! And all the other stuff that involves going outside,” Damon intervened, coming back with an anxious, squeaky-clean Aaron. “Which is why my arm got cut off.” he revealed, sitting down on the wooden floor. “ok im back did i miss anything :'//” Jake asked, waking up from his faint earlier. “… we'll catch up later.” Andre replied.

“arm!!!” The banshee yelled out excitedly, waving a cooler back and forth. “Great! Just toss it down,” Aaron said happily, reaching his arms out. Seeing this, Damon ran to the operating room. “Last one's a rotten egg!” he shouted, snickering. “Well, while they work on that, do you guys maybe wanna come in and grab a snack?” Gabriel suggested politely, eager to learn more about the group. “yea sure!! thanks!!” said Jake, who was joyfully running to the front door.

A large figure stood patiently outside the door, belonging with the Skullsmashers. It seemed like a gentle giant, tapping its index fingers together. It was definitely from another world. It had greenish grey skin, and its head was blocky and looked like it was separate from his large jaw that had two moles on it. Its eyes were big and white, and above them were thick eyebrows. And it was wearing what seemed to be a large, furry, ruff reaching his knees that were covered by jorts. Its shoulders were completely covered with a large spiky red boulder on each one. The creature was ten feet tall, and was very strong.

At last, the large doors opened with a creak, the sunlight from outside shining brightly into the house. It was the first time in years that the front doors were opened, and it was for good; they had stayed in there for too long.

CHAPTER TWO

A PROPER INTRODUCTION

The family and the group were sitting in the dining hall, awaiting the arrival of Aaron and Damon. A shit ton of homemade potato chips were strewn across a long plate in the middle as the main course. Lan had prepared a variety of dipping sauces and some napkins. They sat in silence.

“I don't mean to be rude or anything, but how… are you guys still alive?” Andre asked cautiously, starting a conversation. Gabriel dipped a chip in cheese sauce, then thought of a simple answer: “We really just hide and plant stuff. Also, we were really lucky.”

Nova played around with a fork, debating whether these people were real or not. Yes, NULL couldn't possibly use their precious budget to make intricately designed haunted houses with personal touches and residents whose personalities were very unique, as well as their relationship with each other, but, hell, maybe they can.

NULL always had a way to worm themselves everywhere, down to the place she stayed in, the people she knows, and, well, really, everywhere. Even if this family was what they presented themselves as, NULL could do lots of things to not only dishevel Nova and the group she was in, as well as this family, they can manipulate both of them to destroy each other. After all, that's the kind of thing they do– get someone else to do their dirty work.

Nova made up her mind, opting to ask them directly. “I also really don't mean to be rude, but given the large amount of undercover NULL agents and all the different ways they come as, I just have to ask… and this is a very dumb, and useless question, but are you guys in any way… involved with NULL?”

Dennis smiled lightly, understanding that this group was in the same deliberation as they were. “To be honest, we were gonna ask you that too at some point, but I personally don't think NULL agents would look this…” “well, they wouldn't, like… have wrists this limp.”

The room was silent for a while, before erupting with laughter. “You– you fuckin’ thought we weren't NULL because–” Andre struggled, wheezing. “No NULL agent would dress like that, Andre,” Gabriel pointed out, snickering. “Yeah, you think those idiots can achieve this level of interior design?!” Lan added, gesturing wildly towards every piece of furniture in the hall.

“… But really, to answer your question there, yeah, we are technically involved with NULL,” Dennis said, completely changing the atmosphere of the room. “We're classified as Class-4 criminals for, um, giving some of their agents here some mild inconveniences.” he added in a serious tone. “And by mild inconveniences, I mean a few cases of attempted murders, robberies, hauntings, and other stuff like that.” The group sighed a breath of relief, knowing they were both on the same page.

“I have to say, 45 cases of attempted murder and two cases of successful murder does sort of count as a bit more than a mild inconvenience, though, Dennis,” Lan said jokingly. “Oh, and remember when someone planted poison ivy that somehow mysteriously completely wrapped around the whole base they had here, down to the basement?” he added, grinning. “Okay, well let's not compare our crimes here, dad,” Dennis teased. “Everybody knows mine was the best attack yet when I trapped them inside the base by encasing it with raw eggs! somehow” he added, cackling.

The two families had a great time together, laughing and talking about their experiences in the new lives they lived caused by the amalgamation. Meanwhile, Aaron was carefully reattaching an arm to an unconscious Damon. After some hard work, he succeeded, and did his best to celebrate in the operating room.

However, at this point, he became too tired to do so, considering the fact that he alone performed an entire surgery. Still, it was a miracle for both of them. He waited for Damon to wake up and see the finished product, but he ended up passing out while making a celebratory coffee.

The two slept well and endlessly. The rest of the family, however, were faced with a tough decision to make. Dennis, Gabriel, and Lan had the same question echo in their minds:

“Would you like to consider joining us, The Skullsmashers?”

It was a question Andre always asked to those who he saw potential in, no matter who– or whom, no idea. They could be two friends living in a dilapidated house with rats and mice, or three odd creatures in a grocery store, or even some nervous teenager who suddenly asked him to kill someone in the middle of his New Year's Eve party.

It's not that he simply sees something out of the ordinary happen and immediately hands out flyers, but it's that Andre has been gifted with an eye for this type of thing– take, for example, the situation at hand.

Andre raids a NULL base with his friends. The fight continues into the abandoned city the base was in. His friend lands into a basement of a house. Sarah, the friend, points out that there are people living in said house. Said people are clearly weird.

Resident asks for his arm back. Very weird. Still little to no potential, except maybe for interior design. Residents invite them for dinner. Residents have knives and shit.

Potential spotted. nah jk lemme do this again lol

[TAKE TWO]

Okay, okay. Andre doesn't just see people doing weird shit and immediately hires them, contract and all, but instead he observes them further.

If he sees someone hurling flaming batons into the sky, that person does have potential, yes, definitely, but what kind? This style of combat could definitely be a possibility in their attacks, given the practicality and the ostentatiousness of it.

However, it's an art one could hardly practice. The perils one could face are far too much for such a display. But, even though it's inconvenient, it's still very useful. If there was a good amount of accelerant on the baton, an enemy could not only receive a strong blow, but the added accelerant will most likely set them on fire too, rendering them not only useless in further combat (unless they're a very determined individual) but also a potential threat to anyone near them.

And the fact that a person is employed as the weapon is more convenient than, say, a large flaming baton-throwing machine, which would be difficult to program and to bring to an attack.

However, Andre also has to consider the person (itself? themselves? idk man) in an approach. Maybe they're NULL, or maybe even just someone who wants to throw flaming stuff into the air with no deeper meaning or intent. Maybe this person is unsuitable for combat; maybe this person is an enemy or a rival.

The approach is like a job interview– ask them about their experience in the field, if they have any other [good points?? is good points the word], if they're okay with joining the group– but sadly, he lives in a world where anything wildly good or wildly bad can happen, and it makes the whole process a whole lot more harder.

So, maybe these people inviting them over for a meal might give them a new addition or two. Or, sadly, remove some members.

Will the Russell family join The Skullsmashers? The decision has to be made any second now.

• end •

[brentbennett]

Umm I'm also a huge fan of your writing and ghost!Shane is everything to me, so if you feel like writing another prompt, I was discussing this idea with a fellow Shyan fan and would love to see it brought to life! Basically Ryan is a paranormal detective investigating a very famous paranormal hot spot, and Shane is a ghost who just wants some attention. Hijinks ensue. Bonus points if Shane argues about ghosts while he's a ghost ("it's just the wind," his disembodied voice says 😂)

tysm i’m a huge fan of YOUR writing as well!!! thanks for this prompt!!! i LOVED it lmao. also this is like, a pre getting together fic?? i didn’t want to make it too long lol. also, shout out to @faequill for coming up with the idea of shane being a park ranger, a headcanon i 100% support :)

“It’s okay, Ryan, you’re gonna be okay, ghosts can’t hurt you,” Ryan says to himself. He’s shaking, and it’s not from the wind; even though Philadelphia is cold, Ryan’s trembling stems from being scared shitless in this jail cell. Ryan’s gonna have a word with whoever sent him to Eastern State Penitentiary if he ever gets out of here.

“I mean, ghosts can’t hurt you physically… but emotionally? I can insult you all I want,” a voice says. Ryan turns around, shining his flashlight every which way in an attempt to find the source of the noise.

“Don’t worry, it’s just the wind! Ghosts aren’t real,” the voice continues.

“Who’s there?” Ryan calls, mustering up all of his bravery. He shines his flashlight near the bars of the cell, but he doesn’t have very much room to move because of the lack of space.

“Oh you know, Al Capone,” the voice says with a strange lilt. It’s almost like the voice is mocking Ryan.  

“Where are you?” Ryan asks. The panic is settling it at this point. He figures it’s best if he knows his proximity to (Al?) whatever this thing may be. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to ask, especially since this ghost seems so chatty.

“Right in front of you.” Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a translucent manifestation of a person is standing right in front of him.

“No offense, but you look nothing like how I imagined Al Capone to look,” Ryan says, lowering his flashlight. The ghost laughs, and Ryan’s fear slowly ebbs away. A ghost wouldn’t laugh at his joke if it had malicious intent, right?

“Thanks,” the ghost says dryly.

Ryan shines his flashlight right up to the ghostly figure’s face. It’s a very nice face. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m living out the rest of my existence in this shitty cell. Or at least, I was, until you came along. Who are you, anyway?” the ghost asks him.

“My name’s Ryan. I’m a paranormal detective,” Ryan answers. The ghost perks up at that.

“Wait, can you bring me back?” the ghost asks. It sounds….desperate?

“What do you mean, bring you back? Like, bring you back to life?” Ryan replies. He’s shocked; does he have that ability? Is that even possible?

“No, like bring me back a soda. Yes, bring me back to life,” the ghost says, exasperated. Ryan just raises an eyebrow.

The ghost steps closer to him, hands on Ryan’s shoulders. They get colder the longer the ghost has his hands on Ryan, but Ryan is too stunned to move. He’s no longer afraid of this ghost; why would a ghost be pleading with him? A part of Ryan really wants to hear this ghost out.

“I wasn’t supposed to die,” the ghost continues. “When I was alive, they locked me up in here, but I was innocent! I was framed!” The ghost sounds slightly hysterical.

“Dude, that sucks,” Ryan says, backing away from ghost to get away from the cold. He doesn’t know what to do or how to help.

“Nah, I’m just joshing you. I’ve gotta work on my acting skills if I’m ever gonna make it in Hollywood, you know?” the ghost replies.

Okay, what? First this ghost scares Ryan out of his mind, and then he lies about being framed? What is going on here? Nothing in his research is making sense with what the ghost is telling him, except for Al Capone, but even then, Hollywood has nothing to do with anything.

“Uh, I don’t know what’s going on here but I’m gonna leave,” Ryan says, backing away slowly.

“But Ryan!! Pay attention to meeee,” the ghost says, whining.

Ryan just sighs. “Ghost, look -”

“Call me Shane.”

Ryan sighs again. “Shane, look, I’ve got a job to do. I know you’re dead and that really freakin’ sucks but man, I’ve gotta investigate!”

“Let me help you, then. I haven’t been out of this cell in centuries,” Shane says.

“Uh, alright, I guess,” Ryan says. “Lead the way.”

The ghost goes through the cell bars, which makes Ryan smile. That is, until the cell bars get stuck, which results in a mini freak out until he manages to get the bars open.

They walk down a long hallway, Ryan jumping every so often at whatever peculiar sounds reach his ears. He hears a rat scuttling across the floor, he hears footsteps above him, and he freaks out. Shane, however, is largely unresponsive. He just waits patiently until Ryan is done freaking out, and then they venture forth into the heart of the jail.

“So, uh -” Whatever Ryan was going to say next is interrupted by a force slamming into him. He falls to the ground, the flashlight falling out of his hand and rolling away. “What the fuck, what was that?” he asks, but Shane’s on it immediately.

“It’s a demon, but relax,” Shane says, gearing up to fight the creature.

“What do you mean relax?” Ryan shouts. He watches, terrified, as Shane somehow fends the demon away. Ryan looks at him incredulously.

“What? I’m a supernatural being, Ryan, don’t look so surprised!” Shane says.

“But you can fight off demons? I’ve never ever heard of a ghost doing that,” Ryan says. He picks himself back up and dusts himself off.

“Maybe I’m just magical. I’m the first magical ghost in existence, tell that to your team! I’m sure you and other paranormal investigators will love to hear it,” Shane replies.

Ryan narrows his eyes. Magical ghost or not, there’s something decidedly….different about Shane. Maybe it’s the fact that his ghost is only semi-transparent, like he doesn’t fully belong in this world…

“Tell me the truth this time. Who are you?” Ryan asks.

“Wow, not even a thank you? I saved your life and you’re still interrogating me? How rude! I guess I’ll just leave you for dead next time,” Shane says with a smile.

Ryan just rolls his eyes. “If you’re not going to be serious then I’m leaving.”

“No, wait, I’m sorry, I’ll tell you,” Shane says. “I used to work here before I died, and I’m a park ranger on the side. There was some kind of accident at work, I don’t really remember. One minute, I was doing my park ranger duties, and the next, I’m here in this musty old prison. Guess I died on the way to hospital, or something.”

Ryan shakes his head. “There’s been no recent deaths reported here or in the surrounding area,” he replies, going through the facts in his head. He would’ve known if someone would’ve died here, his team would have told him. Unless there was a lapse in judgement or someone forgot to cross reference sources, that is, but usually the research department is pretty thorough.

“But, I’m sure I died! I’m almost positive that’s how I got here,” Shane says. Ryan just nods, thinking. Maybe Shane isn’t dead after all! Maybe he has just enough supernatural energy to fend off demons, but not enough to completely pass onto the other side…

“Do you know what hospital you were taken to?” Ryan asks. Shane shakes his head. “Well, looks like I’m going to be visiting every hospital in town until I find you.”

“Oh, so you’re just going to leave me here? Alone, in this dank ass cell? With no one to talk to or give me attention? I’m honestly offended,” Shane’s ghost hollers, getting louder as Ryan leaves.

Ryan goes to the general hospital first. He figures that there will be less people, but then again, he doesn’t know how badly Shane’s injuries are. If he gets there in time, though, maybe he can reconnect Shane’s body and his spirit! Not that he knows how to do that, of course, but there’s a first time for everything and there’s probably plenty of articles online for him to look at.

Thankfully, Ryan’s right the first time. There is in fact a Shane at the hospital he visits, and he’s let into Shane’s hospital room almost immediately. He pulls up a chair and starts talking, a little bit awkward.

“Hey, so my name’s Ryan. I met your ghost at the Penitentiary and, well, you weren’t the happiest of ghosts out there. Sarcastic, sure, but there was something off about you. Thanks for saving my life, by the way. That was nice of you…” Ryan trails off, unsure. “Uh, I know you can’t hear me, because your nurse told me you’re in a coma, but I just came by to tell you to stay strong and, uh, I hope your ghost gets out of jail.” He’s silent, then, listening to the steady beep, beep, beep, of the heart monitor.

“I, uh, wanted to try to connect your spirit back to your body but I’m not exactly sure how that’s going to pan out, so bear with me?” Ryan fumbles for his phone and starts looking up how to reconnect a spirit to it’s body and then he performs the necessary rituals, which are a lot simpler than he thought they were.

When Shane doesn’t immediately respond, Ryan is pretty dejected, but at least he could say he tried. With a sigh, he exits Shane’s hospital room.

Shane’s eyes open the same instance the door closes.