#john eats too much red meat

[shotmrmiller]

I'm sorry for being gross but I wanna jerk tf141 off into cups and compare the taste. Best tasting cum gets to creampie me.

[zvdvdlvr]

corn maze + john price

synopsis - you go to a corn maze and get fucked by john

warnings - unprotected sex, pet names, ooc!john price

notes - trying to get back into the swing of things. who knows if this will last.

i need someone to match my freak. i need JOHN PRICE to match my freak guys.

like, i could definitely go for a quickie with him in a corn maze.

just think. its early in the season of fall- ordinarily too early for the pinterest couples and groups of friends to be swarming the corn maze and pumpkin patch. you sweet talked john into going and getting the first pick of the patch early on in the season because you knew you both may get called back to work.

you were both wearing jeans and boots- the wind had a slight nip to it now- and miraculously convinced your boyfriend to wear the deep red Henley that clung to his muscles so well. in return, he had picked out a blaringly bright orange sweater so you could ‘fit in with the pumpkins’ or some other bullshit that brought a smile to his face. 

john had let you lead him around the peacefully unpopulated grounds- purchasing apple cider and other odds and ends you saw fit. he knew that you just wanted one day to feel like a normal, regular, sane couple that didn’t have their hands soaked in blood every other day- literally or figuratively. and in all honesty, he didn’t mind letting you happily pull him along because the smile on your face was worth diamonds.

eventually, after you picked over all the shops and food stands, you stopped in front of the corn maze. “final stop, john. then you can take me home,” you mused, snuggling into his inhumanly warm side. 

your boyfriend hummed beside you. “finally,” he grumbled jokingly. The quiet chuckle he earned from his comment made his heart swell a little fuller. “alright, love. lead the way.”

Five minutes later, you had no clue where to go. Ironic, right? You cursed yourself- how could you not know how to escape some dumb corn maze?

Just as your feet started to ache, you lead the both of you into a corn with a couple hay bales in the corner. John followed you and chortled as you sat down on the bale. You could barely feel the pointy straw poking your ass. 

“Stupid maze,” you grumbled.

John’s eyes twinkled. “Let me eat you out, love.”

The casualness of his tone made your mouth open and close once. Twice. “John. My love. My heart. We’re in a corn maze right now.”

One step and he crouched doen to your eye level. The devilish smile that crinkled his eyes was softening your resolve and he knew it. “C’mon, love,” he cooed, brushing a lock of your frizzy hair from your eyes. “Just let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

Stupid man and stupid sexy voice, you thought spitefully, as John’s hands clasped around your waist. He slid his hands over the soft fabric covering your waist. As he leaned closer and pressed his lips to yours in an entoxicatingly slow kiss, he slid his large hands down to the meat of your thighs.

He drank in your moans, letting your hands latch onto the back of his neck. John parted your thighs with his hand. After breaking the kiss, he sank to his knees and tugged you forward before busying himself with undoing your belt buckle.

Waves of goosebumps picked at your skin. By the cold and by John’s skillful hands, tugging your pants and underwear sown far enough to feast his eyes (and eventually mouth) on your already soaked cunt.

Are you still with me here? Because I know John would eat you so good that your inner thighs would be bright red from the prickliness of his facial hair. But honestly, you didn’t care too much. Not after John forcing not one but two orgasms out of you.

Then he finally decided to lift you up and sit him on his cock. It was a miracle you were still concious enough to give him sass, saying “at least take me on a date first, John.” He had responded with a sharp thrust into your gushing pussy.

“You come on my tongue twice, and you’re the one giving me ?” John chides you, a roughness in his voice that made your pussy tighten. “Might want to watch your mouth, love.”

You stayed silent, letting him get used to the feel of you. Your body shivered and you wrapped your arms around John’s neck, voice breaking as you pleaded for him to ruin you: right here in a fucking corn maze.

“Please, John,” you moaned. He grabbed a handful of your ass and squeezed. your positioning was awkward but you knew John would take care of you. “I need it.”

Luckily for you, John didn’t feel like wasting any more time. He positioned his hands to be gripping your waist and started moving. Agonizingly slow, he lifted you up and down, John complied. Your breathless mewls were music to John’s ears as he slowly sped up his pace, fucking up into your core.

It didn’t take long for you to feel that white-hot ball of heat tensing up in your gut. This time, though, you were worried you’d cum too fast- too overstimulated from your previous orgasms.

“Fuuuck,” John groaned into your ear. “Squeezin’ me just right, love.”

John’s words sent a chill down your spine. You bit down on your hand until it bled. John’s speed only increased.

“I feel you clenchin’ around my cock, love,” John told you. The rasp in his voice only sent you closer to your high. “Takin’ me just right. Your pussy’s perfect, love. Like you’re made for me,” he rambled, fucking you so roughly you knew you’d have bruises.

You grip at his shirt helplessly as John repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that feels like heaven. “Christ, John,” you whimper out.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Like it when I tell you what a good girl y’are?”

Tears stream down your face and the coil in your gut is so hot, so alive, so ready. “I’m gonna- John- I’m… gonna-“

“Cum for me, darlin’,” John tells you, voice choked. “Cum on my cock.”

And Jesus Christ you do. You barely have time to slap a hand over your mouth before you cum. Salty tears drip down your face while you feel your thighs go lax as the coil snaps.

John’s warm cum spills into you as he pulls you down one final time and muffles his own groaning by shoving his face into your stupidly orange sweater.

It takes a full minute and a half for you to stop twitching in John’s arms. And even so, you can feel your breathing shudder ever so slightly.

“John?”

You feel rather than hear John’s rumble of a reply. Your hand cards through his hair and you attempt to calm your breathing.

“Are you ready?”

Another grumble.

So yeah. Also. I love him. I am a hot sexy loser. Goodnight everyone love you all im losing my sanity!

[talkbycolor]

john doe game headcanons . . . ↷

A/N; i'm actually really sensitive about john doe JHSAJHSAJAS

Pairing; "John Doe" x GN!Reader

CW; Just doe being the weirdo we love / PISSPISSPISS / implied cannibalism? not so much tho / ew stinky gay / sex with a hairball

john doe as a partner.

His love for you is pure, but the lack of understanding in humans makes it complicated, he doesn't know how to express it in a "correct" way.

He has little interest in humans but all his interest in You, do you want to learn to play an instrument? Doe too, he would learn to use a phone to call you although it would be useless since in the end he would follow you to work, he can't stand having you away for even a second!

He tried to eat you (unfortunately not in a sexual way), he wanted to bite, pull your teeth, and tear them out of your cheeks to eat them, you had to use a lot of patience to explain to him that this was painful and you could die

He likes your fluids, your sweat smells so good, it tastes great, your tears, he knows that tears mean something is wrong but he can't help but want to lick them, at least he's like a puppy in that way and that will make you laugh, Doe wants to help! your urine, he will drink it all without a problem, if you are both having a loving session in bed and you want to go to the bathroom, forget it, he will open your legs and help empty your bladder, he loved being your personal toilet, your blood is the sweetest of his paradise, be careful with accidental cuts or his mouth will stick like a leech to your wound

Ideas for romantic activities will probably come from television, be careful what he watches

At this point, Doe lives by and for you, he will adapt to your lifestyle and tastes, although he cannot understand most of them, the idea of "breaking up" does not exist in his head, you can walk away, even stop talking to him and he will continue behind you

But he has feelings, why don't you talk to him anymore? Did he do something wrong? He no longer leaves rats in the kitchen, he no longer tries to make You dinners with raw meat, is that the way he looks? Tell him your standards! Doe will change everything for you, even reality

He can definitely purr, he's more like an old, ugly, stray cat that will rest on your lap, but he's YOUR, old, ugly, stray cat.

He doesn't know how to give compliments, it's more like observations or comments about how you make him feel "You're wearing a big hat!" "A red dress!", "I'm so happy to see you!" but it's adorable that he reminds you that you are his whole life…somehow

It's like having a child at home, in the strangest way possible, he will try to make horrible crafts for you and help with housework without much success.

If you demand sex, Doe would probably do his best to make a nice cock, just for you, or a pussy depending on what you like, he will be submissive but if you ask him to take control he will try

And that will probably be the messiest and hardest sex you've ever had in your life, Doe always adores you like it's your last day on earth so in a sexual sphere it would be ten times worse

If you put on a movie at night, he will fall asleep halfway through, no exceptions, the sound of the television and your smell will be enough

Doe would definitely kill for you, he doesn't understand jokes so please don't say "Ugh I hate that guy, I hope he's dead" because yes, the guy will be dead.

In case You doesn't like the smelly boy, Doe will try to take showers regularly, at least to not smell like something out of the sewer, the pain doesn't matter if it's about you

Loves physical contact and quality time

Surprisingly, Doe has a driver's license, he would be your personal chauffeur, you may think it's an adorable gesture but he just wants to be sure where you are at every hour of the day… and help, of course.

Aside from adoring you, Doe actually has his own tastes and hobbies, he HAS feelings! He has tried knitting since the technology is very confusing, he really is like an old man

He tries to have a good relationship with your friends and family, if you have a big family he will probably feel overwhelmed but that doesn't mean he will stop trying to show that he loves you and wants to be with you.

Your younger nephews love it, they think of Doe as a weird-looking uncle who lets them play with his hair

Doe shirt always has hearts when he looks at You.

♡

[louthesawgirl]

What each Saw character would get as a Tesco meal deal (scientifically accurate)

Hello everyone, I decided as my debut long Saw shitpost, I thought I would decide what meal deals different Saw characters would opt for if they stumbled into a Tesco and were a bit peckish after setting up a few traps.

If you’re not from the U.K. or Ireland and are not familiar with the British & Irish institutions of a meal deal, it’s basically a packaged sandwich, pasta pot, salad, bit of sushi maybe alongside a snack item and a drink for a fixed price (it used to be around £3/ €4 but the shops are taking the piss now). Meal deals are considered a treasured institution here and are an indication of your personality. People judge your character based on what you get between two slices of cheap bread.

Here’s what different Saw characters would get for a Tesco meal deal:

Adam (Faulkner) Stanheight

1. Southern fried chicken chipotle mayo sub

2. Doritos cheese flavour

3. Vimto still drink

Judging on how we know Adam is quite an unorganised adult struggling to adult most days, I would assume he opts for high energy foods to keep his tastebuds happy. Cheese, spiced chicken and fruity drinks seem up his street. Plus, Vimto is a very Mancunian thing and if Saw was set in the U.K., there’s no way Adam would not be from Manchester.

Dr Lawrence (Larry) Gordon

1. Eat Your Greens Feta Salad

2. Apple & Grape snack pot

3. Chilled Iced Latte

I feel like because Larry is a doctor, he prioritises convenience but also eats healthily. I also imagine him to be meat free/ vegetarian so that explains the feta & greens salad (I don’t think he’d be vegan though, he seems like he loves proper cheese too much). Larry seems like he’d always be carrying breath mints or tictacs to minimise the cheese or coffee breath- nobody needs a waft of that when being told they’ve got 6 months left to live.

Amanda Young

1. BLT sandwich

2. Walkers Thai Sweet Chilli Sensations Crisps

3. Monster Energy drink (chosen based on packaging colours to match mood)

Amanda is a busy lady planning traps and building contraptions designed to almost certainly kill people. She seems like she enjoys a bit of spice along with classic comfort combinations.

John Kramer

- Chicken & bacon sandwich

- Egg snack pot

- Green smoothie

John seems like he’s mindful of what he puts into his body considering he’s consistently a salt & vinegar crisp away from death with the cancer and all. He’s also a very smart man so he would know the best value for money combination with a meal deal is getting an overpriced fruit smoothie for a drink.

Mark Hoffman

- All Day Breakfast sandwich (triple)

- Walkers Max Salt & Vinegar crisps

- Red Bull

Mark seems like he can’t get enough of bacon & sausage, even though it’s cold and not exactly very fresh. Maybe he’d even have a bit of HP brown sauce with it. Mark would also probably make immature jibes towards vegans and vegetarians because he’s that kind of man. Considering Mark works overtime setting up traps and evading capture, all he’d be drinking by the events of Saw 7 would be energy drinks.

Jill Tuck

- Egg & Cress sandwich

- Arla strawberry protein yogurt

- Bottle of water

Jill is a bit… bland. I’m sorry but I just have to say it. Egg & cress perfectly summarises Jill’s personality as seen in movies 4-7 between two pieces of bread.

Peter Strahm

- Deli style cheese & pickle sandwich

- Smoked salmon sushi pack

- Pepsi Max

Strahm made some good decisions, some regrettable ones and one very very dumb decision during his time in the Saw universe. Just like his track record with making poor decisions, I’d guess Peter would get some supermarket sushi as a snack with his meal deal- not very fresh nor authentic and will leave you wondering why you couldn’t have got a pack of reliable crisps or a chocolate bar instead.

Lindsey Perez

- Feta & sundried tomato pasta

- Propercorn sweet & salty popcorn

- Fanta orange

Perez is a great character and so she would get a meal deal to reflect that. Why do I also imagine Lindsey being veggie?

Eric Matthews

- Meatball marinara sub

- Walkers Monster Munch Pickled Onion crisps

- Red Bull

I feel like this choice accurately reflects Eric. It’s a combination that’s maybe reflective of an immature palette, maybe even a sort of guilty pleasure combination. I wonder if he’d put the monster munch hands (or feet) on his fingers and eat them like that.

Hope you enjoyed my incredibly British saw shitpost x

[akai-akai]

Quiet of the Mind

a tiny 141 poly drabble— slightly price/gaz centric but not really.

***unedited***

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It's rare that they're granted this kind of peace.

The sun's just beginning brush against the treeline, the gentle lapping of water against a rocky lakeshore mixing with the hum of cicadas and birdsong.

John's old blue truck— the same once he's had since his beard was no more than some scratchy stubble on his chin— was backed up near a dock, a bright red cooler filled with beer and other drinks and lunch meat sitting on the bed of it and the tailgate flipped down.

Up a wooden plank staircase, a fair-sized cedar cabin sat on structural stilts, not far from the water's edge. The boys had rented the thing for the entire 2 weeks, per John's suggestion.

"We're out in the bush all the time as soldiers," John said when he spoke of the trip. "Never get to really enjoy nature, too busy watching our arses out there."

So here they were. A quiet, private lake spanned out in front of them, surrounded by lush green forest and the only other civilization being the cabins on the far side, far enough that the early morning fog that settles over the crystalline waters completely hides the cabins from view.

Simon and Johnny stand on the cabin's deck above, Simon manning the grill while Johnny spears darts into a dartboard fixed on the side of the cabin. Below, Kyle rests, sitting on the open tailgate with a cold can of coke next to him and a maplewood guitar sitting in his lap, his fingers deftly plucking away at the strings. It's a lulling sound, soft dulcet chords vaguely reminiscent of western folk music. John leans against the tailgate beside him, eyes fixed on the far shoreline as he watches a small herd of deer travel through the grass towards the trees. He's quiet, his mind is quiet. For once.

"What song?" He mutters to Kyle as he glances over to him, only to find Kyle's warm eyes already locked onto him through his pretty eyelashes, head tilted with the way he holds his guitar.

Kyle shrugs slightly, continuing to strum. "Just wingin' it."

John smiles at him fondly, but says nothing more. Just turns back to the lake and listens. Even the sound of Johnny cursing at the dartboard and Simon griping at him for putting a dart-sized hole in the wood siding of the cabin can't interrupt his peace. If anything, it's a comforting sound.

There's several plates lined out on a foldable table next to the still-smoking grill— bratwursts, burger patties, hotdogs, grilled cob corn, potato wedges, macaroni courtesy of Johnny, who nursed the pot over the cabin's stove for 15 minutes and fished the ripped up box from the trash 3 different times because he kept forgetting how much milk, butter, and water to add. (Simon told him multiple times to just leave the bloody thing on the countertop until the mac was done.)

The sun's shining bright gold and orange through the gaps in the trees when Simon lets out a whistle signaling the barbecue's done, and Kyle slides his fingers down the strings, stopping the vibrations as he carefully sets his guitar back in his case behind the cooler. He dutifully fishes more beers from said cooler for the other 3 men, favoring another coke for himself. John's hand brushes over his affectionately as he takes the glass bottle with a soft murmur of "thank you, love."

They each carry their full plates back down the stairs and take their seats at the old picnic table at the bottom as the sky paints itself purple and pink, and John's unusually quiet. Content.

His eyes rest on each of his boys in turn as he eats, Johnny and Kyle bickering good-naturedly about the best time of day to go fishing while Simon glances between the two, subtly eggs them on with a quiet "the best time's midnight" and suddenly they've both turned on him, allies against a common enemy. Simon must feel John's gaze on him— he has a knack for that— because he glances up at just the right moment as Johnny and Kyle move on to their favorite fishing lures.

Simon's lips quirk into the smallest crooked grin, an equally fond look in his eyes as the two speak without words.

Price just takes a swig of his beer and pushes all other thoughts from his mind. Averts his eyes to the sky.

A pretty sunset, he thinks.

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*bites hand and screams* I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

honorable mentions: I think simon would secretly have a nice, velvety singing voice, johnny is wicked on a drum set, and john is scarily good at whistling.

[soldat-buck]

holy shit you guys, look, there's more.

bg3 culinary headcanons: Absolute Edition

- Minthara: would accidentally fit in as the Addams Family home chef (and be angry about it). Gomez would praise her assassination attempts which flusters her (internally) because she's cooking with the normal amount of poisonous mushroom and not an attempted murder amount (and also she would hate loud, in-your-face-chaotic Gomez SO MUCH. if she wanted him dead, he would be dead, do not insult her assassinating abilities). makes the coolest Halloween party food until you realize it's not fun, spooky-mimicry decoration, those are real black widows on those cupcakes (what? they're venom and merlot flavored) (she used cricket flour, too). you don't know where she gets the "red" for her red velvet cakes, but you *do* know that ignorance is bliss and this is a pretty bitchin' birthday cake, so don't think too hard and just eat it

- Dark Urge (pre-game/embrace): slaughterhouse nightmare aesthetic - chef's apron is leather and something more appropriate for blacksmithing, there are way too many cleavers around (why in the blue fuck is there a meat hook over a drain in the floor?). some people watch tv when they cook. some listen to music, podcasts, or nothing. Durge listens to the Toy Box killer kidnapping tape (not to be mixed up with the (not safe for LIFE) Tool Box killers torture tape. that one is for relaxing baths). watches Dahmer documentaries for culinary inspiration. Hannibal Lecter would find most Durge dishes tasteless and over the top.

- Ketheric: listen, he didn't want me to tell you this [so you did NOT hear it from me], but he actually doesn't eat. he has a symbiotic relationship with the bacteria and fungus that keep his body animated and undying (they're why his blood is black). he consumes rotten things to keep his corpse puppet fungus happy and the corpse puppet fungus allows him to keep his consciousness/sentience and keep serving Myrkul. Myrkul's cool with it, as long as his bidding continues to get done

- Orin: Martha Stewart would have a nervous breakdown upon entering Orin's kitchen. the average person would consider Orin's cooking to be a hate crime. if someone doesn't vomit uncontrollably upon first sight, she considers it an insult (she grew up with a gross misunderstanding of what a Roman vomitorium is). her spaghetti and meatballs is wrapping a handful of uncooked noodles in unseasoned ground meat (she neither knows nor cares whether it's fish or chicken or cow. meat is meat), then baking it in a casserole dish sprinkled with still-condensed tomato soup from a can. Midwestern casserole cooking brought to you by Hell. doesn't use salt because she finds it too spicy. she has an entire pantry section for savory jello

- Gortash: culinary techbro. kitchen is spilling over with unitasker gadgets ("and THIS contraption evenly distributes heat for the perfect boiled egg! what do you mean 'what else does it do'. it boils eggs perfectly i already told you, why the fuck weren't you listening"), and the most stupid, overengineered 'smart' devices ("no no no, you don't understand, this is so helpful. the fork connects to the plate to measure the temperature of the food, and then the plate changes color to warn me if it's too hot, and then i don't burn my tongue, because i really hate that"). despite all of the pricey kitchen shit that he keeps buying, he's skilled at making exactly one dish: microwaved Totino's pizza rolls

(i'm sorry if Gortash is out of character; my brain replaced his voice with John Oliver's and won't put the original back)

if you want more bg3 culinary headcanons, there's also: the Companion Edition

[cosmicjoke]

Hurt

The kid’s got lice.

Well, Kenny guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. Comin’ from that fuckin’ shit-ass, rat infested hellhole Kuchel’d given herself over to, ‘course the kid had lice. Probably had a whole buncha’ other shit wrong with him too. No doubt.

For one, the little bastard hadn’t said more than two words to Kenny in the whole time they’d been together. Quietest, unfriendliest kid Kenny’d ever met, and that was sayin’ somethin’, round here in the Underground.

He looks practically dead, sittin’ over there in the corner, gnawing on a piece of stale bread.

He ain’t wearin’ more than a ragged, threadbare gown that Kenny’s guessin’ was the boy’s only real piece of clothing. He’d ransacked the room in the brothel before takin’ the kid and leaving, lookin’ for somethin’ else he might be able to wear, but there wasn’t nothin’. Only some larger gowns, similarly worn thin, which he reckoned had belonged to his sister. And since she was dead, wasn’t no point in takin’ those.

The kid’s got nothin’ on underneath his gown. No kinda’ undergarments or nothin’. He’d made the kid go out ahead of him when they’d left that room, and the hem of the gown had ridden up, exposing the boy’s backside. Kenny’d seen what looked like bedsores, angry red welts, inflamed and painful lookin’ over wrinkled and filth ridden butt cheeks, and he’d wondered just how long the kid’s been sittin’ there, starin’ at his mother’s corpse. Had to have been a fuckin’ week, at least, for that kinda’ shit to happen. It was a damned pitiful sight, is what it was.

Just like it was now, lookin’ over at the boy, sittin’ there in the corner, chewin’ his bread and barely alive.

The collar of his gown sits stretched and too big on him, slippin’ off one shoulder entirely, dippin’ past his collarbone and revealing a milk white chest, bruised and mottled in spots. The kids ribs poke grotesquely through the skin, pronounced enough that Kenny feels a little sick just lookin’ at it, same as he feels lookin’ at the kids sunken face, eyes too big and set back deep and horrible, like a damned skull with nothin’ but skin stretched too tight over it, lips cracked dry and bleeding fresh each time the boy takes a bite of his food.

He’d fuckin’ told Kuchel, he’d told her, down here wasn’t no kinda’ place to try and raise a child. Tried to tell her there wasn’t no way she’d be able to provide for the two of ‘em. And now look. She was dead, and the kid wasn’t doin’ much better. He didn’t have no shoes or socks either. His feet and hands are filthy, black with grim and soot and dirt and who the fuck knows what else, toes and fingers all cut up. He keeps reachin’ up, scratchin’ at his tangled mop of jet black hair.

Just like Kuchel’s, Kenny thinks.

Thinks, if the kid got some meat on him, he’d look awfully like his mother.

He tries not to think too hard on that, somethin’ ugly and violent shiftin’ in his chest when he does.

Kuchel wouldn’t appreciate it, Kenny don’t think, if he let the rage get him around her son. That’d be low, he guesses, even for him, beatin’ on a boy who looked one stiff breeze away from collapsin’ dead.

“Oi, brat!” Kenny snaps, and he don’t miss the way the kid flinches hard back before he freezes, his eyes goin’ impossibly wider for a moment as he looks up, starin’ scared shitless at him. Kenny sneers. Wasn’t like he’d hit the kid yet or nothin’, but here he was, actin’ like he was expectin’ it. Wouldn’t surprise him, if he were to find out some of Kuchel’s John’s took to beatin’ him. That’s how those types were. Lookin’ to hurt someone who couldn’t fight back. Made ‘em feel big and strong, hurtin’ someone who couldn’t do nothin’ about it. “Slow down there, would ya? You’re gonna’ make yourself sick if you eat too fast. I’m guessin’ you already feel stuffed, huh?”

The kid… Levi… he’d told Kenny his name was Levi, just stares at him, not movin’. Kenny can see his skeletal fingers round the bread, trembling and weak.

“Can’t you say nothin’? I know you can talk. You talked before.”

Still nothin’, and Kenny sighs.

“Well, shit, I hope you ain’t simple. I’m gonna’ have to take ya’ out back and drown ya’ if you are.”

That gets a reaction. Somehow the petrified look on the kid’s face only grows more so, and then those cracked lips of his start wobblin’, and the bread slips, sad and pathetic, from his grasp, fallin’ against the ground.

“… S-sorry. I’m sorry.” He rasps, and jeez, Kenny almost wishes he hadn’t said nothin’, his voice so dry and weak and broken, it sounds like it should belong to an old man, not a seven year old boy, or whatever. It’s fuckin’ unnerving, is what it is.

Though, if Kenny didn’t know when it was his sister got herself pregnant, he woulda’ thought Levi was 3, maybe four years old at the most. He was so fuckin’ small.

He shakes his head, nudging the brim of his hat up higher.

“Welp, seems like you’ve had enough for now. Let’s go.”

Kenny pushes himself to his feet, and the kid shrinks back from him as he comes round the table and toward him.

Kenny rolls his eyes, grabbin’ hold ‘a the boy’s wrist and yankin’ him up to his feet.

“Quit actin’ so jumpy, brat. I ain’t gonna hit ya ‘till you give me a good enough reason to.”

He can feel the boy stumblin’ after him as he pulls him along. It’s his problem, though, if he can’t keep up. Kenny ain’t gonna’ slow down for him, with those short ass legs ‘a his.

Kenny can feel the eyes of ‘a the tavern’s other customers on ‘em as they leave, but none of ‘em say shit, too concerned with their own skin. That suits Kenny just fine. Stinkin’ cowards though, the lot of ‘em. For all they knew, Kenny was gonna’ do somethin’ awful to the kid, but none of ‘em cared enough to even try and find out.

Well, Kenny wasn’t gonna’ do nothin’ awful, though he couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t hurt the kid in some way. He knew himself too well for that.

“Are you gonna’ drown me now?” He hears that low, cracking rasp somewhere below him.

Kenny stops, glancin’ down.

Levi’s standin’ there, lookin’ up at him with those too big eyes in that wasted, skeletal face. Kid barely comes up to his fuckin’ knee. He looks at Kenny, stricken and resigned, and Kenny lets go of his wrist.

“No, I ain’t gonna’ drown ya! Don’t ya know when you’re bein’ fucked with?”

Levi just keeps starin’ up at him, and Kenny sneers, disgusted.

“Maybe you really are simple.” He mutters low, turnin’ away. “Well, come on. Ya can’t keep up, it ain’t my problem.”

He starts walkin’, and a moment later, he hears the kid’s bare feet slappin’ against the pavement as he tries to catch up.

Maybe this’d been a bad idea, Kenny thinks as he makes his way to the latest shithole he’d found to occupy. Keepin’ some kid around, even if it was his sister’s, was gonna’ be nothin’ but a pain in his ass. ‘Specially one as ratty and fucked up at this boy was.

Maybe he really should just drown the brat.

Ah… but he couldn’t do that. Just thinkin’ about it had Kenny feelin’ sick inside. Guts all twisted up when he imagined the poor bastard’s little face, scared outta’ his mind, cryin’ and pleadin’ not to die.

Fuck…

Kenny couldn’t do it to some poor kid.

He glances back, and sees the boy still struggling after him, his face bent toward the ground. He keeps stumbling, like his legs just can’t keep pace with what he want’s ‘em to do.

Kenny’s not surprised when the kid finally trips and goes crashin’ to his hands and knees.

He half expects the brat to start wailin’, the way he’s seen the little shits up on the surface start up when they hit the ground, screamin’ bloody murder for their mommy’s.

But Levi don’t make any kinda’ sound.

He sits there for a second, not movin’, before struggling back to his feet, and startin’ forward again.

Kenny can see his knees scrapped raw and bloody. Knows the boy’s palms are no doubt the same. It must hurt.

He frowns, shakin’ his head. ‘Least he wasn’t a whiner.

“You ever hold a knife, boy?” He asks as the kid nearly reaches him.

Levi stops, blinking up at him. As usual, he doesn’t answer.

“Tch. Here.”

Kenny pulls the blade he keeps in his hip holster, flippin’ it round and catchin’ it by its tip.

Levi’s eyes watch the motion, almost mesmerized, and Kenny smirks as he holds it out to him, handle-first.

The boy only stands there, starin’, like he don’t know what he’s supposed to do.

Kenny rolls his eyes.

“Take it, you dumb shit. I wanna’ see how you handle it.”

The kid’s hand shakes as he finally reaches out, bony fingers wrappin’ round the knife’s handle.

It looks absurdly oversized in the boy’s grasp, palm failing to come all the way round the circumference, the blade nearly big as his whole head. He stares at it like he don’t know what it is, holdin’ it up, his arm trembling with the weight.

“Well?” Kenny presses, a lick of annoyance uncurling in his chest.

Levi keeps lookin’ at the knife, liftin’ it higher, an almost fascinated look in his flat eyes.

But it’s plain as day the kid’s got no fuckin’ idea what to do with it, and finally Kenny snatches it back, Levi’s eyes goin’ wide at the suddenness of it, stumbling back, his backside hittin’ the dirt.

Kenny watches his face screw up in pain, those sores on his ass no doubt.

He huffs, turnin’ away and beginning back down the street.

He don’t know why he thought the kid would know how to handle a blade. He was too young, and Kuchel never did show the strength of the Ackerman bloodline. Skipped right over her like a stone over water. It only made sense, it would skip over her son too. Lookin’ at him, Kenny don’t know if the kid’ll even make it. If he’ll even survive past another year, another two. He’s weak and frail and pathetic. Smaller than he should be. By far smaller. He doubts he’ll ever get that strength.

It’s too bad, Kenny guesses.

Well… he could still try to learn the kid. If he ever found the strength, well then, maybe he’d survive. No skin off Kenny’s back, either way, he gathers.

The boy follows dutifully behind, somehow keepin’ sight of Kenny despite his refusal to slow, and pretty soon they’ve made it to the worn down shake Kenny’d found empty a few weeks back, deciding to take as his own.

“Alright, in ya go.” Kenny ushers the brat through the door.

He dumps his hat and coat on a worn out table he’d scrounged up someplace, before he goes about lighting the lanterns he’s got set up, washing the room in a low light.

The kid stands there in the middle of it, lookin’ lost and wide eyed as he gazes about. His tiny hands fidget nervously in the hem of his gown, unaware or unconcerned how he’s pulled it up past his hips. Kenny gets an eyeful of the boy’s penis and bloated out stomach. Malnurioushed. ‘Course he is.

Kenny shakes his head.

“Wait here. Don’t move from that spot.” He tells him, before headin’ back out. He’s got a big, wooden bucket hangin’ on a hook outside the front door, and he grabs it up before trudging off to a well about a quarter mile down the street. He fills the bucket with water and takes it back.

The kid ain’t moved, only sat down on his bottom in the same place Kenny’d left him, knees pulled up against his chest and arms round his legs. Just like how Kenny’d found him back in that brothel.

Kenny don’t say nothin’, just carries the bucket over and sets it on the ground.

The boy’s so small, he’ll fit in it, easy.

“Alright, get that fuckin’ rag off. Yer takin’ a bath.”

Levi looks up at him, bemused expression across his ugly little face, like he don’t understand what the hell Kenny’s just said.

“You’re god damned filthy.” Kenny snaps. “Go on, take that rag you got on off and get in the water.”

Kenny don’t know what the fuck it is he’s said, but suddenly the kid’s face breaks all apart, his lip trembling, eyes goin’ all wet and shit… shit… he’s cryin’all of a sudden.

“What? What the hell is it?!”

“I tried t-to keep clean. M-Mama… Mama told me it was… it was good. I tried, I cleaned every day. Every day. I tried, I… I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

The kid’s blubberin’ all over the place, a spew of words from his mouth that Kenny can’t make no damned sense of. All he knows is the kid’s freakin’ the fuck out, for some reason, and he’s got to get him to stop.

“Alright, alright, calm the hell down. Come on.” He tries, but the kid just keeps cryin’ and moanin’, somethin’ about Kuchel and keepin’ their room clean and Kenny’s about had it.

“HEY!” He screams, and the kid gasps, harsh and ragged, collapsing onto the floor and coverin’ his head with his arms like he’s sure Kenny’s gonna’ hit him. Well, he’d been about to, if he’s bein’ honest with himself. If the kid’d kept up that mewling, he was gonna’. But he’s gone quiet as a mouse now, sittin’ there with his face pressed to the dusty floorboards, shakin’ all over.

Kenny stares at him for a long moment, tryin’ to figure out what to do.

Damn, he ain’t used to this kinda’ shit. Normally anyone blubberin’ and carrying on like that in front of him just got a bullet to the brain, and that was that. But he couldn’t very well just off the kid. Not after he’d gone to all this trouble.

He flicks at his nose, tryin’ to think.

“Now you listen here, boy. None ‘a that sissy shit around here. You start cryin’ and hollerin’ like that again, all you’ll get for your trouble is a slap in the mouth. Ya hear?”

Levi nods frantically from where he’s still splayed on the floor.

Yeah, the kid’s taken plenty ‘a beatings, Kenny thinks.

He sighs, reachin’ down and haulin’ the boy to his feet. He don’t weigh shit.

“Come on already, get undressed and get in the bucket.”

The kid listens this time, and Kenny watches, a kind of gnawing pit formin’ in his gut as Levi strips, pullin’ the gown up over his head and revealin’ the most pitiful little body in the world.

He’s bruised all over, varying shades ranging from deep blacks and blues to mottled yellows and greens, washing over skin pale as milk. He’s sickeningly, painfully thin, arms and legs like sticks, shoulders pathetically narrow and bony. Every one of his ribs presses visible and awful against his skin, his chest a sunken, tragic nothing, little nipples hardly darker than the rest of him. His stomach stick out, round with bloating.

Kenny knows what starvation looks like.

The kid’s starvin’ to death. Another week alone in that room, and Kenny’s got no doubt he’d have been dead.

The kid looks up at him then, holdin’ the scrap ‘a cloth he’d been usin’ to cover himself in trembling fingers, wide, scared eyes uncertain.

Kenny rolls his eyes again.

“In the water, kid.”

He watches as the boy hesitates, head swiveling back and forth a moment, like he’s lookin’ for somethin’. And then he takes the rag in his hand and starts foldin’ it up, all neat like, before shufflin’ over to the table where Kenny’d dropped his coat and hat. The kid has to stand up on the tips of his toes to reach the surface, where he places his gown, before turnin’ and hobblin’ back over to the bucket.

His back’s just as bruised and hideous as the rest of him, shoulder blades juttin’ out like the peaks of mountains, every ridge of his spine a large, visible bump. He really ain’t more than skin and bones. And those bed sores Kenny’d spotted before, he’s gonna’ need to do somethin’ about those. Red, angry welts. A few of ‘em were seepin’ out puss too. Fuckin’ disgusting.

Kenny stares at him, watchin’ as he climbs in. Water sloshes over the edges as he lowers himself down.

The water comes up just beneath his chest, and he stares down at it like some kinda’ sad, kicked dog.

Kenny huffs, steppin’ forward. No use standin’ around, he guesses.

He reaches down, pullin’ a smaller blade from his boot, and sees the kid’s face lift.

For a moment, the dull, listless expression wipes away, and his eyes go wide with fear.

He recoils as Kenny takes another step closer, sloshin’ more water onto the floor, and Kenny pauses.

“What’s all that about?” He snaps, rollin’ his eyes. “I ain’t gonna’ do nothin’. That rats nest ya got on your head needs cuttin’, is all. You got lice, kid.”

That seems to get the boy to relax some, though he still watches Kenny with wary, mistrustful eyes as he closes the rest of the distance and kneels down.

“Now just hold still while I cut yer hair. Alright? You squirm around too much, and I might slip and slit yer throat.”

There’s those wide, frightened eyes again, and Kenny laughs to himself at how still the kid goes as he takes a big clump of gnarled and matted hair in a fist. Black as midnight, he thinks, just like Kuchel’s.

He shouldn’t think ‘a her now, though, Kenny reckons. Not ‘less he wants to get real mad. And Kenny knows himself. Knows when he gets mad like that, he’ll take it out on whoever’s most convenient. Right now, that’d be the kid, and Kenny ain’t too particularly wantin’ to lay his hands on the boy. Not when he’s already more skittish than a scared rabbit. Kenny hits him now, he figures, the kid’ll roll right up and never come out.

It’s hard, though, when he looks at Levi’s face, and sees Kuchel’s lookin’ right back. Even starved and wasted as the boy is, he looks just like her. Even his eyes. Those same, thin eyes, a blue so soft, they look more gray.

Shit…

A soft whimper pulls him outta’ his thoughts, and when he comes back to the present, he sees the kid tremblin’ in his grip, a sad, pitiful keen slippin’ past his dry, chapped lips.

“Whats’a matter?” Kenny grumbles. “Didn’t I tell ya to hold still?”

Levi don’t answer, his whole body shakin’ like a leaf, and Kenny realizes suddenly how hard he’s grippin’ the boy’s hair.

Well, fuck…

He loosens his hold.

“Hey, sorry ‘bout that. I got lost in my thoughts a minute. Ya know how it is, huh? I didn’t mean to hold ya so hard. Now quit that whimperin’. What are ya, a dog?”

Levi shakes his head, his face turnin’ away.

Jeez, but he’s a timid little bastard, Kenny thinks, frownin’. That kinda’ shit wouldn’t do. Not down here. Kid’d get eaten alive, if he kept on bein’ so wiltin’ like that.

“Now just hold still.” Kenny tells him again, and begins slicin’ through clumps of thick hair.

It takes a while, but Kenny eventually manages to get it trimmed down ‘till there’s nothin’ but a short fuzz coverin’ the kid’s noggin’. He even manages to stop tremblin’ so bad about halfway through, and Kenny thinks he almost feels proud ‘a the little sucker.

He rinses him off with just straight water after that, (ain’t got no soap), before pullin’ him from the makeshift tub.

“Feels better, huh?” He asks as he dries the kid off, rubbin’ him down with some old rags he had lyin’ around.

Levi nods, not sayin’ nothin’ otherwise.

Once Kenny’s through rubbin’ his head dry, the boy keeps liftin’ his hands and runnin’ his fingers through what’s left of his hair, seemin’ fascinated by the way it feels.

He looks even uglier with like this, Kenny thinks. Somehow even more skeletal.

“I ain’t got no clothes that’ll fit you ‘round here, so you’re just gonna’ have to keep yerself wrapped in this here blanket for now. Alright?”

Kenny hands him some worn out old thing he’d found stuffed in a drawer, ridden through with moth holes. He thinks it might’ve been a possession from his childhood with Kuchel. From before they were run off their land, their house engulfed in flames at their backs, gun shots peltin’ down into the earth around ‘em, loud, whizzing cracks in their ears.

He shakes his head of the memories, shakin’ the blanket when he realizes the boy still ain’t taken it.

Tiny hands finally reach back, fingers foldin’ into the offered material, and Kenny watches the kid struggle with its weight as he wraps it clumsily round his pitiful little body.

He regards the kid a moment longer.

“Alright, well, I gotta’ go out and get us some supplies. So you just stay here and I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t go runnin’ off nowhere while I’m gone. Not ‘less you wanna’ get yourself killed or picked off by some freaked out pervert. Ya hear?”

Levi nods, clutchin’ the blanket around him like his life depends on it, squattin’ there on the floor.

“If ya gotta’ take a piss or shit, there’s a bucket out through the back door there where ya can do your business. Don’t you go messin’ on the floor in here, or I’ll beat you upside your head. Got it?”

Another nod.

“Y-yes Sir.” He actually talks, voice nothin’ but a cracked whisper.

Kenny frowns.

“Don’t go callin’ me that. Kenny’s just fine.”

Again, the boy nods, and Kenny huffs.

“Alright, well… I’ll be seein’ ya.”

He turns to go.

“… Th… thank you.” He hears behind him, that weak, rasping voice.

He stops, lookin’ back over his shoulder, and sees Levi lookin’ up at him. His eyes too big for his face, overbright.

“Don’t go thankin’ me yet, boy. I ain’t gonna’ be soft on ya, if that’s what yer thinkin’.”

The kid’s head shakes no, and he falls back onto his bottom, curlin’ away.

Kenny sniffs, flickin’ at his nose.

“Good. Stay put and I’ll be back.”

He strides from the hovel he’s been shakin’ out in, slammin’ the door shut behind him, back out onto the streets.

Somethin’ ugly twists in his guts, then. An awful, sinking mire in his brain. The boy’s face in his eyes, wasted and tragic.

He thinks he wants to put his hands round the pathetic animal’s neck. Squeeze and squeeze and squeeze ‘till those sad eyes ‘a his pop right outta’ his skull.

Thinks what a rotten bastard he is, and somethin’ pained lances in his heart, a hideous weight.

The boy’s hurt seared into his mind.

[short-and-ugly]

If you're reading this I've finished my TWO WHOLE playlists!

Here's the infinitely superior DROPBOX link to the two:

The caveat to these being that you would need to download the playlists yourself to get the fullest experiences. But like. It's totally worth it. Prommy. Super duper prommy. Please.

Here are the timestamps for the longer versions:

SKOODGE:

00:00 - Losers by The Cardigans 3:18 - Happy/Ugly by Car Seat Headrest 6:16 - Sweet Talk by Saint Motel 9:28 - Step On Me by The Cardigans 13:17 - You name it, I’ll eat it (Bring The Hate Like An 808) by Talkshow Boy 15:02 - Jenny by The Orion Experience 18:19 - I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski 21:09 - Will You Wanna Live If You Can't Torture Me Every Day? by Star Kid 23:15 - Ruin My Life by Lusha 25:28 - Best Person You Know by Lowertown 30:18 - Tainted by MOP 32:32 - Strange by Celeste 36:47 - Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now by The Smiths 40:23 - I Feel A Little Bit Ugly Today by Su Lee 42:05 - 9 to 5 by Mustard Service 44:29 - Soldier In A Box by Hot Hot Heat 47:40 - Put Me To Work by Big Data 51:59 - Misery Meat by Sodikken 53:04 - Salivating by Sir Chloe 55:31 - Wars of Expansion by Space Cadets 59:52 - Normalize by Mother Mother 1:04:12 - I Don't Wanna Die by The Unicorns 1:06:15 - What Do They Know? by Mindless Self Indulgence 1:09:24 - Don't Bury Me I'm Not Dead Yet by The Riverboat Gambles 1:12:11 - Karma by AJR 1:16:18 - All I Need by Radiohead 1:20:04 - Everyone Adores You (At Least I Do) by Matt Maltese 1:23:26 - Death, Thrice Drawn by The Scary Jokes 1:26:26 - Side Character by Cloudfodder 1:29:42 - Honeysuckle by Pom Pom Squad 1:33:01 - Love's Caress by Moon Visions 1:37:52 - Never Ever Getting Rid Of Me from Waitress The Musical

PUNCHBUGGY/ZASR:

00:00 - Outside With The Cuties by Frankie Cosmos 02:33 - No Tomorrow by Le Matos (feat. PAWWS) 07:03 - 16 Mirrors by Alex G 08:30 - Ugly by Huxlee 11:05 - Glue by PHF 14:21 - Errasuriz by Kiltro 19:30 - Thermodynamic Lawyer, Esq, G.F.D. by Will Wood 23:06 - Drink To Me by Pleasantries 26:02 - Bubblegum by Matt Correa 29:37 - Second Best by Laufey 33:01 - I Hate Everyone But You by Elita 35:53 - Animal by Neon Trees 39:25 - Scroll Patrol by Rinse & Repeat 42:37 - From The Gallows by I Don't Know How But They Found Me 45:20 - Love Me Too Much by Carseat Headrest 48:41 - Ofelia by Kiltro 52:59 - Caroline Please Kill Me by Coma Cinema 54:50 - Love Me Dead by Ludo 59:11 - Cinnamon Bone by Eliza Rickman 1:02:18 - the perfect pair by beabadoobee 1:05:15 - Twilight by Boa 1:09:03 - Cellophane by Pom Pom Squad 1:12:36 - Oh My God by Bats 1:16:30 - You'd Like Me More by Axel & Lolo 1:20:13 - I Don't Know by You The Marias 1:23:43 - Break My Stride by Mattew Wilder 1:26:45 - Adorable by Artist Vs Poet 1:30:17 - My Ugly Mouth by Meg & Dia 1:33:52 - passing papers by egg 1:36:43 - I Was An Island by John-Allison Weiss 1:39:31 - Best Friend by Laufey 1:42:17 - Turn by The Wombats 1:45:42 - Best Friend by The Moving Stills 1:48:36 - Two Time by Jack Stauber 1:51:00 - Healing by Oh Honey 1:54:25 - Grew On Me by Chonny Jash 1:58:56 - milksugar by crushed 2:04:35 - Talk Like That by Wallows 2:06:36 - That Thing That You Do by Cody Fry 2:10:12 - I Think I Love You by The Patridge Family 2:13:04 - If I'm Being Honest by Dodie 2:17:45 - The Whole World And You by Tally Hall 2:19:31 - Valentine by Laufey 2:22:17 - Little Person by Matt Maltese 2:25:39 - Pink In The Night by Mitski 2:27:59 - Red With Love by Pom Pom Squad 2:30:28 - Poisoning Pigeons In The Park by Tom Leher 2:32:33 - Pretty Ugly by Bumblefoot 2:34:42 - End Of The by Earth Marina 2:38:24 - Deep Green by Marika Hackman

... but if you don't wanna go through the commitment of listening to these, here's the youtube versions:

... and HERE'S THE FULL YOUTUBE PLAYLISTS!!! HAHAHAHAHAA GOTCHA!!! YOU DUMB IDIOT!!!!!! YOU'RE IN IT DEEP NOW!!!! GO LISTEN TO IT. GO LISTEN!!!!!!!!! PLEASE. ALL TWO HUNDRED OF THE SONGS ON EACH OF THEM. NOW.

[alecmagnuslwb]

Trick r' Treat, You're Dead Meat

Read on AO3 

‘Trick or treat, you’re dead meat, give me something good to eat! If you don’t you’ll be dead. I’ll cut off your boyfriend’s head!’

“No offense Love, but I’m glad we’re not going out tonight I look ridiculous,” John says pulling at his too tight ascot and perfectly coiffed blonde hair. 

“Oh, hush,” Zatanna says, adjusting her thigh high pink go-go boots. The movement catches John’s eyes unabashedly and Zatanna steps to him tugging on the ascot trailing her fingers up his neck lightly her eyes on his. “You look cute.”

“I look dorky as hell,” he replies

“You look hot,” she says fixing his hair he’d messed up before pausing for grand effect trailing her hand down his chest with a wink.

John sighs shuffling his way back over to the couch, kicking his feet up watching the final few tragic frames of American Mary playing on the screen. 

“If I didn’t know that that was going to be a very good payoff, I’d be changing into nothing but sweatpants right now,” he says, digging his hand into the candy bowl snatching up a few treats. 

They’re dressed as Fred and Daphne from Scooby Doo. The costume plan had been brewed and sewed up before Ollie and Dinah’s family had gotten trapped on some sort of alternate dimension island and opted to cancel their festivities. Every other holiday plan they cooked up had seemed a little too close to their previous years that have always resulted in some sort of real life horror so they’d settled on staying at home giving out candy and watching movies. 

John had tried all through the month to get her to go with some of her early costume ideas like Chucky and Tiffany or Sidney and Billy, at least then he got to be covered in blood. But she’d insisted on something a little more family friendly since kids would be at the door. 

“We’ll be all dressed up with nowhere to go,” she’d said with glee, no room for argument. 

Zatanna snatches up the bowl playfully smacking John’s hand away, throwing her temporarily red hair over her shoulder with a smile. He scoffs popping a Reese’s cup in his mouth, as if she can’t just conjure up more candy. She glides over to the door anticipating the ringing bell before the trick or treaters can get to it. 

“You can’t do that, then you’ll be the creepy guy handing out candy in sweatpants,” she grins pulling open the door just as the bell finally rings. 

“Trick ‘r Treat!” the children shout. 

“You guys look fantastic!” Zatanna beams giving out heaping handfuls of candy to each member of the tiny Doom Patrol. 

They all shout thank you’s as they run off the porch passing through Woodcrest’s heavy metal gates, tonight adorned in iridescent purple bat lights. A stream of kids make it to the door before she can shut it again, a little parade of varying Bats, vampires, and references to children shows that go over both their heads. 

“Well, hey gorgeous,” a cheeky teenager dressed up as Fred says, winking at Zatanna as she gives a heaping handful of candy to his little sister dressed as Scooby Doo. 

John walks up behind her grabbing one small piece of candy tossing it into the kids bag. “Get your own redhead, kid,” he says. The kid rolls his eyes sauntering off with his skipping little sister in tow. 

The kids don’t stop coming for over an hour after that, the height of the trick ‘r treating coming on in full force. The pair sit on the steps outside giving out sizable and quality handfuls of candy that guarantee the word of mouth about how much candy Zee gives out will mean at least double the amount of kids next year. 

Eventually the stream of sugar hyped little ones dies down and the two head back inside cuddling up on the couch watching the remainder of Def by Temptation. They’re cozy on the couch John’s head resting in her lap, him grumbling just a bit everytime the bell rings and a trick ‘r treat straggler shows up at the door. 

The movie switches over to Frankenhooker, a favorite of Zatanna’s, just as they fully settle on the couch Zatanna sprawled out on top of John. A half hour passes and they assume the night belongs to just them when the bell rings again. Zatanna sighs, pulling herself off of John eyeing the clock, it’s nearing 10:30 trick ‘r treating’s official hours fully past. 

She pulls open the door with a smile revealing a pack of five. “Trick ‘r Treat!” they all shout in almost too perfect unison their voices somehow simultaneously high and gravely. Zatanna scans their costumes, surprised by the old school smocks and plastic masks of Bugs Bunny, a vampire, Casper the Ghost, a devil and Mickey Mouse.

“Vintage, nice” Zatanna says with a smile. She holds out the bowl to the kids, “Take what you want you’ll probably be some of our last kids for the night.” They all reach out swiftly with tiny hands moving fast grabbing nearly everything from the bowl between one beat and the next. Zatanna blinks and they’re rushing off the steps giggling as they go. She watches as they turn the corner seemingly disappearing into the night.

Zatanna huffs stepping inside with the near empty bowl. 

“Something up?” John says from his lounging spot on the couch. 

Zatanna shakes her head, “Just some odd kids, seemed like they’re having a fun night though.” She drops the bowl on the coffee table, nudging John’s legs with her knee. He gets the message pulling his legs in for a moment stretching them back out across her lap as soon as she’s sat down. She leans forward grabbing a Twix. Just as she’s taken her first bite the bell rings again and again. 

“All right, all right,” she says popping the whole Twix in her mouth licking her chocolate covered fingers as she goes. She pulls open the door to reveal an empty doorstep. She takes one step out looking from side to side not so much as a rustle of wind anywhere to be found. 

“Very funny,” she scoffs lifting her hand with a twirl. “Nrut ffo lla eht roodtuo sthgil.” she says and they all power down in a wave. She hopes that will keep away any further stragglers or pranksters, she loves seeing all the kids in their costumes but she’s down for the night. 

She closes the door locking it firmly behind her. She drops the candy bowl down before slowly undoing the green scarf at her neck blocking the tv slightly just as Dr. Jeffrey Franken gives himself another quick lobotomy. She slides the feathery purple jacket she’s been wearing over her sleeveless dress all night to keep away the chill off her shoulders letting it fall to the floor. 

The corner of John’s lips upturn, “Does this mean I get to take off this getup?” he says sitting upright on the couch his attention fully locked on her. She hikes up her short dress making it just a little shorter walking over to the couch straddling his lap and settling down. 

She tilts her head, “Eventually,” she says with a smirk leaning in brushing her lips tantalizingly against his. 

“Eventually, huh?” he says chasing after her lips, getting a quick playful bite into the bottom one before she’s pulling back her hands sliding down his white sweater. “There was a cartoon crush kink here wasn’t there?”

She moves her hands low, moving them underneath his sweater pushing it up and up and shrugs, “What can i say, my major red flag is being into blonde men.” 

“I’d call that a green flag,” he smirks delighting as she urges his arms up pulling the sweater over his head, tossing it over the couch. 

She giggles pressing up close against him as she works at the buttons of the short sleeved blue button up layered beneath the sweater.  

John melts under her touch, his hands grabbing tight at her waist pulling her impossibly closer. He delights in the little gasp she lets out when he leans in and grazes his lips over her collarbone. Her hands move to his shoulder digging in tight leaving half his buttons still secured. His lips travel down the cleavage of her dress while his hands travel up slowly moving the straps of her dress down her bare arms. 

He peels down the front of her dress, his lips pressing at each reveal of alluring skin when suddenly the doorbell rings again. He groans frustrated when Zatanna pulls back and presses her soft purple dress back up to her chest tight. 

The bell rings again three times in quick succession. “We’re all out of candy!” John shouts keeping Zatanna steady on his lap. 

The ringing subsides stomping feet fleeing down the steps and away. 

“Now where were we,” John says trailing his fingers against Zatanna’s exposed back. 

“John,” Zatanna says looking over her shoulder back at the door. 

“It’s fine, love, they’re gone,” he says moving his fingers down her arms curling his fingers around one of her hands pulling it gently from where it holds up her dress. 

“Incorrigible,” she murmurs, not sounding nearly as bothered by the fact as she’s trying to be. 

John gets to work peeling the dress back down all the way to her waist. He grabs her bare hips flipping them so they’re flat on the couch John over top of her positioned between her legs. He leans down kissing her glad to feel her brief tension melt away as he nips at the sensitive skin of her neck traveling back down to the collarbone where he started. 

He lifts up a hand to his neck to take off the bright orange ascot. 

Zatanna reaches up stopping him pulling his hand down to the side. “Uh, uh,” she says. “The ascot stays on.”

He chuckles leaning back down to press his lips to her skin with a chuckle, “Of course it does.” 

He licks at the top curve of her breast one hand trailing across her bare ribs and up to the other breast, fingers trailing teasingly around her nipple. She moans, then moves one hand reaching up her fingers carding into his hair, messing up the perfect coif gently encouraging him downward towards the currently neglected nipple. He happily concedes freezing just as he’s about to put his lips around it when a cacophony of loud knocks sound at the door. 

They both stop what they’re doing heads turning towards the door. Silence for a beat just the sound of Frankenhooker asking ‘Wanna date?!” before another round of loud knocking. 

“Alright that’s it,” Zatanna says pushing John up. She untangles herself from him slipping her dress back in place as she heads towards the door. 

“It’s just dumb kids, if we ignore it they’ll go away,” John argues as she gets further away. She just throws him a look over her shoulder, no room for argument. He sighs long and loud falling face first into the cushions. 

She slings open the door stepping out onto the steps. “Alright!” she yells. “Very funny. We get it you can knock and you can ring doorbells, but that’s enough! Do it again and you’re gonna find out not such a good witch lives here!”

She’s met with silence, just a light cool breeze rustling leaves across the lawn, the raggedy clothes on her gravedigging skeletons flapping quietly. 

She crosses her arms with a huff awaiting to see if these hooligans are brave enough to show themselves. 

She takes one step back about to re enter her home when knocks sound again this time coming from the large bay windows in the living room. 

John shoots up from the couch heading for the windows and pulling open the curtains to find nothing. Zatanna steps outside a little further leaning over the iron railing, she flicks her hand turning all the Halloween lights back on revealing nothing but large fake spiders in the bushes below the windows. 

More knocks sound this time from the back door in the kitchen. John runs towards the sound rebuttoning some of his shirt as he goes. Zatanna rushes back inside the house locking the door firmly once again. 

John steps outside the small garden in the back twinkling with little skull and pumpkin lights, the space as still as can be. 

“Anything?” Zatanna asks him as she walks into the room. John shakes his head shutting the door ensuring it’s locked. 

The doorbell rings again, followed by knocks at both doors. The knocking gets louder windows on the first floor shaking with the force of the knocks. 

John and Zatanna rush back into the living room just as a low singing begins. Zatanna mutes the tv knowing it’s not her beloved movie. The words aren’t discernible at first, but as they go they get louder and more clear. 

“Trick ‘r treat, you’re dead meat, give me something good to eat! If you don’t you’ll be dead. I’ll cut off your boyfriend’s head!”

“Well that’s fucking ominous,” John says looking to the front bay windows as giggling begins little faces popping up out of the bushes. Five of them in vintage masks that Zatanna saw not but an hour ago. 

“These are the odd kids from earlier,” Zatanna says, eyes staying locked on the creepy kids. 

They sing their little song again moving their heads in time back and forth their vacant mask eyes on the couple. 

“I gave you some goddamn candy!” she shouts at them and they freeze mid-song. 

The lights flicker in and out, the TV suddenly loud and stuck like a broken record as Frankenhooker says over and over again ‘Wanna party? Got any money?!”

Until it all cuts out, the whole house going dark for a moment. Zatanna grabs John’s arm keeping him close when after a few silent beats the lights come back on, the tv all static now. Small simple knocks hit the front windows the little faces gone now but words written across the window in what they hope is just dark red paint. 

WE DON’T CARE it says in response to her insistence she gave them candy. 

“Shit,” she says keeping hold of John. Glass breaks in the kitchen and they head towards it to find the small windows over the sink busted open a few of the brick gravestones she’d placed in the garden lying broken on the floor. 

Zatanna drops John’s arm leaning down to pick up a shard of one of the small gravestones it’s covered in a tacky green and red substance she hadn’t put there. She dares to sniff at it a sickly sweet mixture of watermelon and coppery blood. 

She drops the gravestone bit and turns to John clapping her hands together loud, “Laes siht esuoh.” 

“Is that such a good idea, love?” John says pointing at the trail of goo that follows out of the kitchen and leads down the hall towards the first floor library. The least dangerous of the libraries in the house at least. “I’d say the call is already coming from inside the house.” 

“Better to trap them then,” she says twisting one hand at her side. “Sriatspu dna tnemesab ffo stimil.” A warm wave of magic settles over the interior of the house. “And that will keep them away from any dangerous artifacts.” 

John nods. “Then let's find the little buggers,” he says just as the sound of tumbling books sounds from down the hall. They rush for the library and enter to find piles of books in every corner giggles sounding from behind the couch. 

Zatanna and John walk slowly towards it, hands at the ready. Bugs Bunny mask pops up from behind the couch tossing a handful of candy in Zatanna’s face before running off arm outstretched knocking a row of books off the shelf. 

Zatanna guffaws as the rain of bite sized chocolate bars do nothing more sinister as she expected. John takes off running at the menace, “Come here you little shit!” he shouts tackling Bugs Bunny mask to the ground. The impact lands hard Bugs landing all sorts of wrong on one arm. 

They struggle with John batting hard at his chest despite the clearly damaged wrist gaining the upper hand overtop John. Bugs reaches into their smock brandishing some sort of bastardized shiv made from a lollipop holding it close to John’s left eye. 

Zatanna swings a hand out her magic sending the shiv carrying rabbit into a bookshelf knocking even more books to the ground. John scrambles upright as Bugs gets up from the ground like nothing even happened. 

“Zee, wanna hit Bugsy here with another blast,” John says backing up towards her. 

“Another hit might kill this kid, which i don’t love the idea of killing a kid,” Zatanna says arms at her side hesitant. 

“I don’t think these things are kids,” he replies watching as Bugs twists his broken wrist back into place leaving a puddle of that sickly sweet goo dripping down his arm. Bugs giggles walking eerily slowly towards them lollipop shiv in hand. 

“Nope,” Zatanna says flinging a hand at the monstrous bunny. “Dnib gsub ot eht sniatruc!”

The black ropes of the velvety red curtains spool out grabbing at Bugs and pulling them back they growl struggling against the magically tight bonds losing grip on their shiv. The lollipop falling to the ground and shattering into pieces. Zatanna and John cautiously walk towards the bunny once they’re tightly secured, tossing back and forth but the bonds not loosening. 

Zatanna reaches up grabbing the plastic mask and slipping it upward revealing the face below. It’s not a kid, that’s for sure. The face beneath is a twisted demonic version of the mask they wear, rabbit-like features twisted and dingy gray. Deep indents run along the face where the mask had been. 

“Jesus christ,” John says over her shoulder. 

Bugs hisses at him, his two big buck teeth covered in red and green goop rattling. 

“Gonna guess you’re not human,” Zatanna says. Bugs starts giggling at that their big black empty eyes staring her down. They whisper their little sinister song the buck teeth getting in the way of certain letters, their head rocking back and forth. “Yeah, we’re gonna put this back on.” Zatanna says with a disturbed look. 

“One down, sort of,” John says looking away from Bugs as he emphasizes the ‘we’ll cut off your boyfriend’s head’ line of the song. “If we catch them all we can send them…somewhere.” 

“Somewhere,” Zatanna agrees catching on shadows in the hallway. She taps John on the side pointing towards the hall where flickering flames start to appear. They step towards the wide doorway slowly, Bugs still growling behind them when a rumbling sound begins. Two large jack o’lanterns brightly lit start rolling their way jagged evil faces glowing. 

They separate dodging to each side of the room to avoid the orange menaces as they rush at them at high speed. Giggles sound from the hallway, the devil and Mickey Mouse making themselves present. They peek into the room waving at them once before pulling more pumpkins into their arms. 

They roll them at John and Zee snickering as the flaming  pumpkins make their way to them. They keep pulling pumpkins out sending rounds and rounds of them that the pair dodge. 

“Where the hell are these pumpkins coming from?!” Zatanna shouts stamping out a small pumpkin that nearly catches a pile of fallen books on the floor ablaze. 

John opens his mouth with no answer slipping slightly as a huge pumpkin knocks into his legs before slamming into the wall catching the curtain that Bugs is attached to on fire. Zatanna puts it out quickly her focus on keeping the library from burning down. 

The devil and Mickey take this as an opportunity rushing into the room. The devil oh so ironically makes its way to John while Mickey heads to Zatanna. 

She’s quick turning from her firefighting duties magic swiping out at Mickey throwing them hard into a pile of smashed up pumpkin. The devil tries to slide through John’s legs, but he doesn’t quite make it. John kicks out at them knocking them hard in the chest. The devil lands ass first on a still lit candle not so much as flinching. 

The devil just laughs and starts singing that damn little song. John grabs them by the smock lifting them up from the ground. Mickey sees this, slipping and sliding on the pumpkin mess to get up and assist their friend. Zatanna knocks him back down every time he works back up, enough times that something human would be unconscious by now. 

She lifts him in the air slamming him down hard into an ornate chair in the corner conjuring up chains to secure the creature tight. Mickey struggles against it just like Bugs had but seems content giggling and growling all the time. 

John fumbles with the devil who’s thrashing back and forth in his grip long jagged red nails scratching at his arms. John holds tight though slamming the devil down onto the hard back of Zatanna’s red velvet couch. Bone cracks but the devil doesn’t even flinch. Zatanna reaches out a hand conjuring up more locks and chains to surround the devil who stays back broken damn near in two over the back of the couch. 

The devil's mask slips in the awkward position revealing a distorted face dark red and horned. 

“How many more?” John asks stamping at a still lit jack o’lantern on the floor covering his blue flare pants in goop. 

“Two,” Zatanna says her magic doing a double check on the bound three. “Casper and a vampire.” 

“It’s like a bad joke: the devil, a vampire, Bugs, Mickey and Casper all walk into a witches house,” John grumbles heading for the hall. 

They walk slowly making their way through the halls, the lights flicker a few inexplicable pumpkins in the hall still lit. Shadows play tricks around them shapes of the five creatures fucking with them playing on the walls. 

They reach the end of the hall again at the living room where this all began, a single pumpkin blocking their way. A disfigured image of the two of them is carved into the glowing gourd the candle blazing unnaturally. From the living room a filter of random scenes from their horror movie lineup filter in and out the lights flickering like a classic haunted house. 

“Well they’re talented I’ll give them that,” Zatanna says before bringing her tough go go boot down on the pumpkin. A whisper sounds over John’s shoulder, he flinches back seeing nothing but an empty hall. 

Zatanna kicks the destroyed pumpkin aside stepping back into the living room. John follows her trying to ignore the jumbled whispers behind him. 

The living room goes pitch black as soon as her boot steps beyond the fake cobweb adorned hallway. The whispers grow louder no longer behind them but coming from every little corner of the room. Zatanna gestures towards the other side of the room knowing that just like before it’s best to focus on one little creature each. John takes her direction stepping away from her as the front door bursts open wind gusting impossibly loud inside. 

Casper makes himself known first coming out of seemingly nowhere dropping down onto John’s back. 

“Little fuck!” John shouts wrestling with the ghost on his back. He knocks back into the large bay windows hard attempting to jostle the creature. Zatanna holds back not going to John’s aid like she knows the vampire who’s somewhere in this room is hoping she will to catch her off guard. 

She steps slowly in the dark before looking up and snapping her fingers her magic slipping the lights back on. 

“Gotcha,” she says looking up at the vampire gripping tight to the chandelier. He cackles a haughty movie Dracula laugh swinging the chandelier back and forth with glee. 

John keeps knocking into walls to get rid of the ghost on his back who’s grip holds tight around his neck, not tight enough to cut off his air supply but tight enough for real discomfort while the vampire continues to taunt Zatanna. 

John drops to the ground hard finally loosening the grip the ghost has on his neck. He lifts up every bone in his back cracking as he goes to reach for a weapon. He gets to the ridiculous knight in armor that lives in the room year round grabbing the heavy dull sword from its grip. 

Casper rushes at John trying to take his feet out from underneath him. The ghost is unsuccessful, John swiping the sword at them knocking at the chin of the creature's mask. Casper growls rushing him again and again each time John makes a move with the sword knocking hard at different parts of the body. Each blow makes the Casper howl with anger relentlessly coming at John harder each time. 

John slams the sword hard down on the creature's head cracking the skull with a splatter. Brain matter and the sickly sweet goo splash across John and the wall. Caspers mask falls to their neck the ghostly distorted face cracked open with green and red goo. Casper stumbles a bit the brain matter loss actually being the first thing to affect any of these creatures. 

Meanwhile the vampire finally descends down from the chandelier landing on all fours on the ground in front of Zatanna. She steps to him ready for a fight. The vampire scuttles towards her, she stomps at one of the creatures hands hard with the heel of her boot and it hisses. The vampire scrambles upright and leaps onto Zatanna.

They fall to the ground Zatanna knocking the vampire hard in the gut with a fist knocking it off her instantly. She scrambles up a hand to the creature's throat. The vampire flails a bit suddenly dispensing hands full of little plastic vampire fangs. 

“Really?” she says with a scoff regretting that not even a beat later when the vampire tosses them at her the fangs chomping violently and biting into her skin. 

She flinches in pain, pulling back from the vampire. She clambers back using her magic to dispel the fangs from her skin wincing in pain a bit when each one unclamps. The vampire just watches giggling and hissing as she bumps back into the coffee table finally free of the multicolor plastic fangs. 

She moves to knock the vampire back with her magic but changes her mind when her back presses against the cool wood of the coffee table. She flicks a hand cracking the table into two sending the bowl of candy flying the legs splintering off one by one. 

She picks up the nearest one holding it tight. The vampire stops giggling and rushes for her the two of them landing in the pile of splintered wood. Between her pure skill and magic she gets the upper hand overtop the vampire slamming the stake hard down into where a heart would be if these things have any at all. 

The vampire freezes slowly lifting a hand. She readies herself for more evil plastic fangs but all the creature does is drop the hand down on its chest. For a brief moment she thinks she’s finally killed one of these things but the moment doesn’t last long. The vampire reaches up lightning fast scratching at her with sharp little nails. 

“These things definitely won’t die!” Zatanna says pulling the stake from the giggling vampire's chest batting its sharp hands away with magic.  

“I’m gathering that!” John shouts back, knocking Casper over the head for the umpteenth time. The ghost still won’t go down even if they stumble a bit from time to time. 

The vampire hits Zatanna in the stomach gaining the upper hand, but she holds tight to the stake. She hits the vampire square in the chest again, nothing but a delighted hiss being given in response. The vampire pulls the stake from their own chest twirling it in hand toying with her now that they have the advantage when it happens. 

The room nearly freezes.

The vampire drops the stake raising a hand to wave over Casper. Casper stops their next rush at John mid wind-up and goes just a little wobbly over the back of the couch grabbing the vampire’s hand. John follows them stopping at Zatanna’s side helping her up off the ground. 

“Trick ‘r treat, you’re dead meat,” they start singing their voices joined by more when thumping feet run into the room. 

John and Zatanna turn to find the devil, Mickey Mouse and Bugs Bunny all giggling away bits of rope and chain hanging over their shoulders. 

“Fuck,” she says hands ready to blast them with magic. John turns back facing the other two who still sing their little song. 

The trio join the other two in song and rush at Zatanna swiping her feet out from underneath her before she can get out a single backwards word. 

She lands on the floor with an oof turning just in time to see them swipe John’s feet out from under him as well. He lands on his tailbone and winces. Zatanna does the same knowing that land just tweaked at least three old injuries. Zatanna turns still seated on the floor watching as the evil quintet all join hands starting their song over again. 

“Trick ‘r treat, you’re dead meat,” they sing their heads moving side to side. “Give me something good to eat!” they continue. Casper’s head reforms a bit of gooey brain sloughing off their shoulders. The hole in the vampire’s chest reforms their smock stained with that same goo that covers the whole first floor now. “If you don’t you’ll be dead. I’ll cut off your boyfriend’s head!” they finish giggling as they all rush out the door one by one still hand in hand, Zatanna’s magical barrier shimmering and dissipating around them.  

“They just broke through my protection spell like it was nothing,” Zatanna says with a huff mouth hanging slightly agape as they wind through the front yard, zig zagging just for the hell of it. 

“Uh, huh,” John says with a nod watching as the wispy smocks flitter in the wind before the little creatures disappear shimmering away just as the distant church bells ring for midnight signaling Halloween’s end. The sickly sweet watermelon and blood smell lessens with their departure but still lingers as the culprit of the scent covers nearly every surface nearby. 

“Why wait till now? They could have been all over the house this whole time,” she wonders reaching down to unzip her heeled boots one at a time. 

“Beats me,” John says untying the orange ascot from around his neck. “Thrill of the game i guess.”

Zatanna lets out a tired sigh flicking her hand to shut the door locking it tightly once again. 

“What the actual fuck was all that?” she says finally taking her eyes off the door, wiping at the watermelon blood goo on her face. 

John just shrugs flicking what he thinks might be brain matter off of his shoulder. “A standard Halloween for the Constantine-Zatara’s at this point.” 

Zatanna just groans falling fully back onto the floor legs akimbo wishing for just one normal Halloween. 

“I just wanted to hand out candy and have fun, somewhat cartoon crush inspired sex,” she sighs closing her eyes. 

“Well we did the first two things and there’s still time for that last bit,” he says brushing his fingers lightly against her arm. 

She sighs, “But all this mess.” 

“This?” John scoffs. “A handwave and a couple words and this is gone.”

She smiles her eyes still closed. She raises a hand with a quiet backwards spell for cleaning leaving her lips. She feels the wave of magic clean up her, John and the house in a gentle wave. The watermelon blood smell finally gone though she knows she won’t be forgetting it any time soon. 

“See,” he says and Zatanna can hear his smirk. 

“Shouldn’t we figure out what those things were?” she says peeking one eye open.

John shrugs, “Only if they come back.”

Zatanna closes her open eye again contemplating for a moment. He has a point. “Well, you took off your ascot,” she says with a smile, opting to forget the seasonal creatures for now. She’ll bug Rory about it in a few days. 

She hears a shuffle of fabric and then feels as John moves over her nudging her legs open to make room for him. She does, smiling when she feels the end of the ascot retied at his neck brush her skin. She opens her eyes looking up at him no longer bloodied but hair still disheveled. The Halloween lights are all back on again. The tv flickering in the corner Lisa Frankenstein now playing on it.

“The ascot stays on,” she emphasizes eyes locking with his. 

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles leaning down for their lips to meet just as Strange by Galaxy500 plays loudly from the TV. 

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Spectacle of Ritual | Carnal XIII

Simon was born with what his father called 'The Curse'. A wanton craving for taboo meat. Since meeting the similarly cursed Johnny, the two had formed a bond. They didn't just fight together, they ate together, slept together, and shared everything.

When a favor to Price reveals another cursed person, Simon worries she could destroy everything.

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Spectacle of Ritual - Kali Malone

Johnny ate and he slept. His wound was infected despite the efforts of Simon and Nina. Words gurgled out in frayed sentences that might only make sense to him. He was awake long enough to have Nina feed him broth until exhaustion pulled him back down. 

He woke up to the smell of Nina bleeding, far away. He cried for Simon to find her. He sweated through the sheets thinking of Simon hurting her. It would be his fault. He failed to get food, he failed to protect himself, he failed to protect her.

The sky got dark. Neither of them had come back. He heard them walking about, he thinks. He hadn’t said anything but he believed he’d started hallucinating. Too many sounds, faces became wavy and distorted, conversations repeating over and over and over. He heard Price’s voice. 

His shirt was being lifted up. He flinched at the cold air. A hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down on the bed. Nina was cooing at him to relax.

“Simon do the stitching?”

“Yes.”

“It’s good for him at least.” Price said. A large first aid kit sat on the foot of the bed. “See how red it is? It’s infected. Have him take these twice a day every day.”

Nina nodded along to Price’s instructions. Had they called him? What was the story going to be? A pill was pressed against his lips. He let Nina set it on his tongue as she held a glass of water up next. 

His wound was disinfected and price showed Nina how to change the bandages. 

“Try to get some rest. Simon is out getting food.” She ran a hand over his head. He grabbed her wrist. He lost all his words when he touched her, he could open his mouth but no words could leave it. “I’ll be back soon.”

He wasn’t sure how true her statement was. He fell asleep again. Sleep felt deeper than normal, it was comforting until he remembered the pain in his side. He heard arguing downstairs at one point. Nina and Price. 

“You should have told me!”

“Would you have believed me or would you have had me committed?” 

There was a pause.

“Exactly… they understand. If you didn’t trust them, why did you bring them here?”

“It was a mistake!”

“They’re like me! I’ve never had that. No one is like me.” She was crying. Johnny wanted to get up, he hated hearing her cry. “I want them to stay. Please. John please.”

Their voices were carried away as sleep pushed him back under. 

He woke up to the smell of cedar and breakfast. Nina had a plate of eggs, toast and three slices of thick cut meat pan fried. Simon was sitting in the corner. He looked tired, bags weighing his eyes down more than usual.

“Eat and then you can take your pills.” Nina busied herself with feeding him. He reached out and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. She looked tired too. Her arms were bandaged up. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine. Everything’s fine.” She assured. “Now eat. Simon got fresh.”

He let her feed him, one bite at a time. Simon’s gaze bored him. Not predatory or loving, just analytical. 

An antibiotic, pain med, something for his fever. He took them like a good patient. She rewarded him with a kiss to his temple before scurrying off back downstairs.

“Price was here.” 

“It’s handled,” Simon said. “He knows now. Promised to keep quiet, mostly for Nina’s sake.”

“She’s a good person.” 

“He gave us leave till New Years. Let you heal up.” Simon ignored his comment. “Once you’re okay we’ll leave.”

“I’m not leaving Si.” The old nickname tasted like brown sugar melting in his mouth. 

“Because she can’t hunt for herself.” Simon frowned. 

“Because I need her.” The conversation that they’d avoided all Summer and Autumn was here now, tripping in before Winter. “I don’t like being alone. I’m happy here when I’m not bleeding out. I hunt, she cooks. It’s worked till now.”

Simon’s gaze had left him to stare out the window. 

“You hurt me, Simon. I loved - still love ya. I still don’t know what I did wrong or why you’re living up to your name and haunting me.” He was always an idealist. He could see Simon staying too. Nina might need convincing but with how loneliness dripped off her like water it wouldn’t take much. Safety in numbers. Some vague memory of psychology class and a hierarchy of needs: food, rest, water then safety followed by companionship. All of that was in this house. 

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” An apology, bare bones, was the best he was going to get. No explanation of how or why. Simon was never a man with many words, his mouth had better things to do. He wanted to feel his mouth again. 

He felt guilty for that. Nina was lovely and he cared about her deeply, loved her possibly. They had their routines when he was around. Eating, lounging, fucking, talking. She wanted to have a picnic when it got warm again. He liked the dresses she always wore. Felt drool pool in his mouth when he saw the backs of her thighs. 

“I miss you.” Simon said, so quiet like he’d meant to say it in his head only. 

“I can ask if you can stay.” Something moved across Simon’s face at his words, hope maybe. “It won’t be the same but I can ask.”

Simon nodded, the corner of his mouth turned up. 

They finally let him get up and walk around that afternoon. Simon was assigned to bathroom duty, making sure he didn’t fall over or tear a stitch. No real shower, just a wet cloth. He was almost glad for it. Felt too intimate to get fully naked in front of him. 

Nina agreed that he could stay for the time being but with strict guidelines. Nina’s hunting rifle and an old shotgun, along with the rifle Simon left in the woods, were moved into a locked cabinet in her father’s office. Nina kept the key on a chain around her neck. 

They moved one of the arm chairs from the living room to the kitchen so Johnny could watch as they butchered up Simon’s kill. 

Nina looked squeamish, green faced whenever the tea towel she’d placed over the face fell. She refused to touch the arms or legs and placed another towel covering the man’s sex. Simon looked annoyed.

“You hunt with Price. He never had you butcher a deer before?”

“Deer don’t look like me.”

“He doesn’t look like you.” Simon lifted the towel of the face. “Ugly bugger.”

“Stop,” She snapped.  He dropped the towel.

“It’s food, love. No different from a pig or chicken or deer.”

“That’s not true.”

Simon came around and stood in front of her. His shoulders were relaxed but it didn’t do much to make him less intimidating. 

“I only kill men who’d want to hurt others. When I grabbed him, he was following a girl down the street. He had a knife on him. You think a deer rapes? Would a deer slit your throat if you screamed? He’s more of a predator than you or me. You kill a deer to feed yourself. He’d kill a girl just to get his cock hard. He’s nothing but food now.”

Simon sliced a sliver off the arm. Johnny was always mesmerized by how well he could make cuts. He mentioned working for a butcher as a teen but this was years of practice. In another life they could have run a butcher shop, one with fancy cheese and other imported foods. He could learn to bake bread. Maybe they’d save up and buy a farm, raise their own animals. Treat them well with open pastures and good grain. 

“Don’t look away.” Simon’s scent was strong, muskier than usual. It was a familiar scent. One that had filled his head every time Simon crawled on top of him. Johnny watched Nina, a defiant look on her face. 

“Simon.” Johnny warned. He always thought he was the hotheaded one yet Simon was the one already testing the limits of Nina’s patience. 

“Don’t act like you’re above this. Like it disgusts you. You’re drooling.” He wiped a bloody finger over her chin, catching the spit slipping from between her lips. He pushed the meat into her mouth. “Eat it.”

He thought she might bite his finger off, when it slid between her lips. Her face changed between anger and desire as she chewed. 

“You don’t have to feel bad about it. We’re all just animals.” Simon turned back to the body and with a decisive move of the clever severed the arm off entirely. The green in her cheeks was replaced with red. 

They had enough to last a week or so. Then Simon would go hunting again. He said they’d bring Nina once Johnny was better. 

“Safer that way,” He said. They’d teach her. She’d need to build strength as well. Regular meals had done her well but she was still half Simon’s size. 

Simon would sleep on the couch downstairs till Nina prepped a room for him. Johnny knew the other bedroom was the master. He’d never seen her go in there. He never asked why. He realised he never really asked Nina anything about her family. They were dead but beyond that, he knew nothing.

She came into his room that night after Simon went to sleep. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, the back of her hand against his forehead. 

“I’m okay.” Her expression was hard to make out in the dark. “I’m sorry about Simon. I can talk to him about giving you space. He’s always been a bit…intense. He’s not evil just a bellend some-”

She kissed him, her teeth tugging at his bottom lip. She tasted like salt and vanilla. He leaned up, wanting to taste more. He winced and she stopped.

“I’m sorry. You should sleep.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before leaving. 

He leaned back in bed with a sigh. His cock was stiff now. 

It made him a pervert but he thought about her and Simon when he touched himself. Not even with him, with each other. Simon’s fingers in her mouth as she rode him. They were both gorgeous. He wasn’t wrong for wanting both. Something hard and something soft. He could fit nicely in the middle. 

He came over his hand. He didn’t want to wipe it on the sheets. He was careful getting up and walking to the bathroom, quickly washing it off. 

“You okay, Johnny?” Simon asked as he walked out of the bathroom. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Just needed a piss.” 

“I can smell it on you.” Simon clapped him on the shoulder as he walked into the bathroom. 

Simon’s hand still smelled like Nina’s mouth. 

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @cathnoneofyourbusiness

[leviathanverse]

Chapter 36: Finale battle (Part 1)

" Food?"

" No, Zoha. Friends."

" Food?"

" Let's just move onto the next lesson..."

You sighed as you struggled to get Zoha to speak english a bit more fluently. You were so glad that your french didn't activate just yet. Surprisingly.

" Repeat after me. Friends."

" Friends?"

" Yes! Good jo- OH FUCK!"

Zoha dodged the spear that had intended to impale you. It was black, red and had a familiar symbol you had searched for your entire life.

Zoha stopped mid air as you tried to see what was happening. You saw Zika being cradled by Aizetsu while he hissed at the hunters.

You watched as Kai fought against the attackers, protecting Reina. You saw the entire crew fight against the enemies.

" Que Dieu nous sauve tous..."

Zoha was confused when your French came out, but quickly dodged another arrow and circled above the HQ.

" Sakura- TOUT LE MONDE EST EN DANGER ! Tout est de ma faute..."

Speaking of Sakura, you saw her fight against Yami. Chiyeko was right by Sakura's side, fighting like the righthand man he was.

You turned around and commanded the Poison Firefrost Dragons to attack the hunters.

The larger of the entire pack gave a look at the others and they all dive bombed, right towards the enemies.

They attacked, using their abilities against the hunters. You saw Yami press a button, and the dragons that burned down your home came out of nowhere.

Goretrappers.

You saw the Poison Firefrost Dragons attack the enemy dragons, dodging the venomous tail, saliva and teeth.

" Land Zoha. Land!"

Zoha obeyed and landed right behind his brothers. You jumped off and ran to the building.

" GO WILD, ZOHA! EAT THE HUNTERS! THE GORETRAPPERS!"

As much as you had hated to tell him to kill dragons under the control of Yami, you knew that he was a predator.

You knew he could stay off of dragon meat for so long until his instincts kicked in. You heard him bite the Goretrappers, snapping their bones as he began his feast.

You ran through the doors of the HQ, almost tripping as you did so. You kept your balance, and ran up the stairs that led to the roof.

Right where your boss and friend fought against Yami. You ran up the stars, adrenaline the only thing that kept you running.

You reached the second floor, running up the third flight of stars. You knew that Yami was capable of killing Sakura and Chiyeko.

You saw her skills up close. Even she beat you before you found out that she was a traitor during training.

Tears filled your eyes, brows furrowed as you tried to run as quickly as you could. You HAD to reach the rooftop. You had to save Sakura and Chiyeko.

You finally made it to the rooftop, and saw Sakura wrestling Yami. As if she was John Cena herself.

Chiyeko, however, was unconscious. He was only within arms reach, not moving but breathing.

" I'm going to fucking make sure you die, you fucking traitor!"

" Same could be said to you!"

You ran up to Chiyeko, dragging his bulk of a form inside where it was safer. Good thing too, because Sakura and Yami decided to fight like angry rhinos fighting over territory.

You fell on your behind when you let go of Chiyeko after getting surprised. Your eyes were wide, and you could only watch the fight.

You saw Sakura go for Yami's throat with her dagger and bare hands. Yami tried to make Sakura mince by throwing her mace at her.

Thank goodness Sakura dodged all the attacks from Yami. If she didn't, then she would have been mince by now.

You got up, grabbed Chiyeko's weapons and ran into the battle. You blocked Yami's attack from hitting Sakura.

" Y/N?! I thought those dragons digested you and that fucking crybaby!"

" You need to think of something better than that, fat fuck! And don't you DARE call Zika a crybaby!

You pushed her away, your weapons clashing as she tried to land a blow on you. Sakura shook her head and joined you.

" Thought I'd never see you again."

" Lucky for you, Zoha plays favourites! Now let's get rid of this motherfucking bitch!"

" I am with you there!"

You both pushed Yami away from you two, doing some cool tricks with your weapons as you ran at Yami at full speed.

" You fuckers always ruin my fucking plans!"

She whistled, and a Goretrapper with a muzzle over its face landed next to her. You saw how it shrunk back in fear when she yelled at it.

" GET US OUT OF HERE, YOU FUCKING USELESS REPTILE!"

She got on and flew in the air with the dragon. She took off the muzzle and pointed at you two.

" Fire."

At Yami's command, the dragon shot acid at you two. You and Sakura dodged, landing aways from each other.

" You have got to be kidding me."

" You were the leader all this time?!"

Yami grinned, eyes gleaming with satisfaction and amusement. Her grin gave it away a bit too much for your liking.

" It took you this long to figure it out. I must say, I am surprised you hadn't figured it out already."

You and Sakura dodged another acidic fire, doing backflips in order to do so. You were doing it to rile Yami up.

Probably wasn't a good idea as she ordered the dragon to fire its acid at you. You were thankful for dodge class. Otherwise you'd be dead from flesh eating acid.

" Tu es un putain de connard, Yami. Je peux croire que je te considérais comme mon meilleur ami, pour ensuite avoir été trahi."

Yami did not understand a single word you said. Good. That was the one thing you hadn't told or taught her.

" Fuck you, Y/n!"

" Fuck you too, Yami!"

" Fuck you, you disgusting motherfucking traitor!"

You knew that this was only the beginning of the fight. The beginning of the final battle between good and evil, light and dark.

You were furious. You attacked, deflected and jumped away from any chance you got on landing a hit on Yami and her dragon.

This was only the beginning of the end. The beginning of the battle between two humans with different goals and intentions.

Previous <-•-> Next

[blowflyfag]

WORLD WRESTLING ENTERTAINMENT/FEDERATION MAGAZINE: OCTOBER 2011

SMACKDOWN Q+A

The LOCKSMITH

Daniel Bryan submits to our most probing questions, and reveals the secrets to surviving a detached retina, escaping deportation and starting a catchy crowd chant.

BY JOHN MIHALY PHOTOGRAPHY BY MARIUS BUGGE

Your submission maneuver rarely fails to make foes tap out. Think it might be time to re-name your version of the LeBell Lock to something a little more Daniel Bryan-centric?

No. I like referring to people who’ve built this industry. There’s not enough of the history out there anymore. It’s like all of that’s been pulled back. So I hope to continue calling it the LeBell Lock. That said, I am a submissions expert, and I certainly have more than one submission maneuver in my arsenal. You’ll be seeing more of them very soon.

Compared to the ups and downs of 2010, this year has been a huge success for you, culminating with your Money In The Bank win. Did your first year in WWE teach you anything that the Indies never could?

Just that you have to adapt to every environment you’re in..but I’ve been doing that my whole career. I never expected to be fired and then rehired two months later. I certainly didn't expect to become the U.S. Champion so quickly after I was rehired. Wrestling here is no different from wrestling in Japan for the first time: You have to get your bearings, and you have to wrestle that style. Here, you have to adapt to things like live televised matches.

What’s the one biggest sacrifice you made during your journey to WWE?

That’s hard to say. But one thing I definitely hope will never happen again is losing hearing in one of my ears. I ruptured my eardrum, but I never got it fixed. That’s something that can be easily fixed, but as an independent wrestler, you can’t take time off, so I just kept going. Plus I can barely see out of one eye because I detached my retina back in 2007.

Sounds painful! But no worse than spending time with The Miz. Did you know that you actually have something in common with your former WWE NXT “mentor”? You’ve both been hosed out of a match at WrestleMania.

How did you react when you were bumped off the card at The Show of Shows?

I go with the flow with a lot of things. Obviously, it was upsetting. Nobody told us beforehand or pulled us aside and said, “Listen guys, we’re sorry.” That was the most disappointing thing. And of course, I wanted that ‘Mania moment. You’re not going get it in a pre-show match. But, once I slept in the trunk of my car, so it wasn’t the end of the world. 

You collect vinyl records, you don’t own a TV, and you spend a lot of time reading. Is it safe to call you “The Lo-Fi Superstar”?

Well, there’s just so much mental pollution out there. I was rooming with a fellow Superstar, who will remain anonymous. He was watching TV and said, “Aw, there’s nothing on.” So he tossed me the remote. So what did I do? I turned off the TV. He complained, “Why are you turning it off? What are we going to do? Just sit here in this silence?” I said, “Yes, yes we are.”

No TV, no alcohol, no meat…what vices do you have, other than making opponents tap out?

That’s a loaded question. Maybe I think too much. It makes it hard for me to sleep. William Regal always likes to say, “Once you don’t start sleeping, then the carnival starts.” I don't have a lot of vices, per se. I have a very clear mind, and I fall asleep very easily at night. It’s staying asleep that’s the problem. Once I'm awake that first time, I'm done. 

What’s a tasty vegan dish that every nose-in-the-air omnivore should try?

There are so many. My favorite place to eat is the Red Velvet Cafe in Las Vegas. It’s got regular food, it’s got vegetarian food, and it’s got vegan food. Anything that’s on the menu they can make vegan or vegetarian. Their namesake, the red velvet cake, is a cupcake that’s vegan. I’ve given it to nonvegans and they say it’s the best red velvet cake they’ve ever had. It’s unreal. They tell me it's only 180 calories. I don't buy it for a second, because you pick it up and it’s so dense, but then you think, “Well, the stuff in here isn’t made with cow fat,” so maybe it’s true. 

You might be the most positive Superstar in WWE, as far as dealing with the daily grind goes. How do you keep your head up while on the road 200-plus days per year?

In WWE, it’s very easy for people to say, “Oh, this sucks” or, “Oh, I'm beat up.” In the Indies, you’re also beat up. You’re just making a lot less money. If you’ve been wrestling in the Indies for 10 years and you get here, nothing seems bad. I’ve had to literally sleep outside of a door because I was locked out of the place where I was staying in England. I've been deported. I was going from Japan to England and I didn't have a work permit, so when I got to England, they said, “We have to deport you back to Japan because that’s where you came from.” I said, “Going back to Japan does me no good, because then I don't have a work permit to get in there, either.” So I had to pay for a flight back to Los Angeles. But in the meantime, they stuck me in this room with all these other people being deported. They asked me, “Where are you from?” I said, “I’m an American.” And then they said, “Oh, you should have lied, man.” It was kind of scary. I was stuck in Heathrow Airport for 24 hours.

Lastly, your followers were infamous for delivering a rather un-PG chant whenever you entered the ring. Any less crude chants you might suggest they shout out these days?

“You’re going to get your freakin’ head kicked in!” It’s based on a British soccer chant. They have the best chants. It’s just one of those things I heard and I thought, “I’m going to try and get this started at a wrestling show” And I did. People were having a hard time with the beat, but eventually they got it. Once it came out on DVD it just spread. It’s funny how things spread so quickly. Have you read that book, The Tipping Point, by Malcolm Gladwell? It gives a really good explanation about how things just like that chant gain popularity. Give it a read. 

[sleepy-achilles]

Some more FOD headcanons

Yes they've probably been posted before. No I do not check my past ones before posting. So yes I've probably posted the same list a bunch. Soz I guess

Leon spoke with his hands for like 16 years straight. So yes, even now that he speaks with his mouth he still uses his hands, its like muscle memory to him. Yes it's caused him to drop his mic a few times, good thing he's quick enough to catch it. He eventually gets used to holding a mic but still finds himself trying to sign with one hand. (Drew, shawn and alexa find it adorable)

Shawn 100% pouts to get his own way with anyone. That much the kids when they are young adopt the habit too.

Cassie streams herself playing the 2k games but only so she can make a male version of herself and beat the hell out of Leon and John.

John is 100% a mother hen to cassie and Leon. Everyone always jokes about how they are his first children.

From previous point. John always finds himself paying for Leon and cassie and anytime they send him money he ends up sending it back. Or if they forget to pay him, he just doesn't mention it.

Shawn and Leon have fast metabolism whilst taker, John and cassie do not. Yes they hate them. Yes they hate that Shawn and Leon can eat a meal for 10 and not gain a single digit of weight. Whilst Shawn and Leon hate that they struggle to put weight on. Especially when they want to look bigger and more muscular instead of twinks. (Yeah, I went there)

Anytime cassie gets an oc idea. Because yes, shes a fandom girl, or if she wants fan art of her minecraft skin, she hits Leon up. And he does it with no questions asked, because he does not want to know why he's drawing a gay pegaus and earth pony. (Rainbow dash, apple jack. My little pony. I have sisters okay.)

Leon has monochromatic vision. (He sees in black and white) and people often forget this, including himself sometimes. This leads to some very awkward moments between them all. (Cue the, L: Thats the red ball C: Red ball? Bitch that's blue what are you colourblind? J:*glances at them both* both of them: ooohhh C: shit sorry, my bad)

They are a hunting family. Leon does not eat meat. (And I oop-)

Shawn hates Leon's piercings because he uses them as a excuse to not wear a motorbike helmet. He hates takers fuckin brain because it tells him he doesn't need a helmet. (Wear a helmet kids. Fuck it, wear all your gear. Idc if your bike ain't fast, you come off, it's gonna hurt)

Each family member is represented by an animal (thanks to cassie and her fans). (Note, some of them have multiple animals that fit them.) Takers a lion, Shawn's a fox, John's a bear (Leon's fuming about that one), Leon's a Jaguar and Cassies a wolf. (John fits both bear and lion. Shawn fits both fox and cheetah, Leon also fits both cheetah, jaguar and panther. Taker has the qualities of a lion but they say if he had to have the looks of a animal it'd be a raven)

Charlie is still alive and kicking. Despite being born the same year and Leon. Yes he still looks young.

[grizzlyofthesea]

Original Incorrect Quotes Shenanigans: ~Games Edition~

[Disney Villainous]

Mikey, as Prince John: And just what do you think you're doing with all that Power, Donald?

Donnie, as Captain Hook: No, you see, I need money so I can hire people to beat the crap out of this child.

Raph, as Pete: I'm sorry, WHAT--

April, as Jafar: *wHEEZE*

Leo, as Yzma: *typing on his phone* How...much...does it cost...to kill...a child?

Raph: LEO!!!! DO YOU WANT TO WIND UP ON SOME KIND OF WATCH LIST?!

~

[Mario Kart Wii]

Warren, passing the first-place CPU at the beginning of the third lap: MWAHAHAHAHA! Eat my dust, loser!

[Cue lightning, followed by a blue shell, followed by a red shell, and being run over by someone using a Mega Mushroom just to add insult to injury]

Warren: Are. You. KIDDING ME?! YOU HAVE JUST MADE YOURSELF A POWERFUL ENEMY, BABY PEACH!!

~

[Sorry!]

Splinter, bumping one of Draxum's pieces back to its starting point: Oops! Sorry~!

Draxum: You don't seem too sorry about it...

~

[Monopoly]

Meat Sweats: And just how do you already own half the board?

Repo, very smugly: I got good business sense, is all.

Meat Sweats: No one's even traded anything yet!!! I think the stupid game's rigged...

Repo: Ah, you're only sayin' that 'cause you've been sent to jail five times, and I haven't. Maybe you'd have more property if yous wasn't a wanted criminal~

Meat Sweats: Well, maybe you'd be serving a bit more time if you didn't always conveniently have a "get out of jail free" card with you...

~

[Mario Party Superstars]

Cassandra, on the 3-player side of Tug of War: *violently rotating the joystick on her controller* MY PALM MAY BE BURNING WITH THE FURY OF THE SUN, BUT I! WILL! NOT! LOSE!!!

Sunita, as the single player: *also violently rotating her joystick* Well, I sure as heck don't intend to lose, either!! ...Even if I am also in a world of pain...!

~

[Pandemic]

Todd: Okay, so, how many outbreaks do we have until we lose?

Bullhop, flipping over the top card of the infection deck: Gah, it's Istanbul...but it's not over yet! We've still got another outbreak until we're done. We just need to--wait, it's connected to Karachi, isn't it? ... *deep sigh* It's over. We just lost...

Todd: ...Oh. Oh... *sniffles* We failed the entire planet...!

Bullhop: *hugs Todd* It's okay. Everyone else may be dead, but we still have each other.

~

[Ticket to Ride]

Hypno: What do you mean I can't build a railway from Paris to Zurich?! I have three cards of the same color! That's how it works for everything else!!

Muninn, flipping through the rulebook: Let's see... With tunnels, you need to draw three cards from the deck to see if they match what you're going to play. If they do, you need to play that many additional cards.

Hypno: ...

Huginn: Yeah, it's just as stupid as it sounds.

Hypno: I'll say...

[inafieldofdaisies]

💭

either Cal or Sabrina work :) I wanna know their thoughts on Kit >:3

I hope I did Kit justice, I felt like she wouldn't be too into Calahan's usual modus operandi when he meets new people. 🤣 Sabrina has a little cameo after his snippet, too.

Calahan watched as another guard did his rounds around the cages, when the Peggie was out of earshot, he turned to his right, focusing on the woman that was thrown into the makeshift cells a few hours prior. The braided red hair was the first thing he noticed about her and how perfectly it matched the blood that covered her clothes. He got closer to the bars, lowering his voice as he addressed the newcomer with a smirk he didn't quite feel, but pretending was what kept him going since the start of the Reaping. Hell, even before it. "What are you in for?"

The stranger gave him a quick glance, her stare hardening, and said nothing in response to his joke. "Name's Calahan, yours?" More silence that made him retreat to his usual spot, then her voice came unexpectedly, "You gonna eat that?", she pointed a bloody hand at his bowl of mystery meat, yet another serving he had refused to eat in the recent days of capture. "Nah. I'm watching my calories.", he retorted and pushed the "meal" over to the bars, her arms quickly reached for the disgusting pinkish-red mass and shoved it in her mouth. "Is everything a joke to you, Calahan?", she asked as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. "Hey, you just ate the most questionable meat in human history. We all survive somehow." "You talk too much." "And you talk too little.", he stuck out his tongue at her as dark laughter emerged from outside of his cage, then combat boots appeared in his sight. He didn't bother raising his baby blues the rest of the way instead continued to stare at the ground, knowing full well who had graced them with his presence. "Careful now, Rookie, this one bites.", Jacob stopping at her door piqued Hartley's interest. He caught the older Seed sending the woman a strange look as he stood in front of her cage. Pride and something deeply carnal was hidden in his cold eyes. Calahan chuckled humorlessly, "I didn't ask about your sex life, Jakey. Or lack of." His words didn't get a raise out of him like they did with John, instead the bastard just shook his head and walked away. "He's preparing another trial." "What's your name?", he tried again. "Doesn't matter." "Why?" "Because soon you will be dead. You won't need my name then.", the woman stated matter-of-factly, "It's my third time." "I have no plans on dying today, sweetheart.", he muttered, counting down the seconds in his head, when no guard appeared for patrol as they usually did, he knew for certain something finally was happening. And sure enough, footsteps hurried in his direction, a familiar voice calling out his name as she worked on the lock of the cell. "Kid.", Sabrina slung the door open, reaching out a hand and pulling him to his feet, "Sorry I'm late." Calahan grabbed the gun that was passed to him as she exited in a hurry and unlocked his newest neighbor's cell next, her eyes softening as she regarded the woman sitting on the ground. "You can come with us." "I'm staying. I'm right where I need to be." "Are you for fucking real?", Calahan asked incredulously. "12 minutes. It takes that long for him to return. You just wasted two in useless chatter.", she retorted. "We have to go, kid." "We can't just leave her." "I'm leaving her cell unlocked. Remember what we talked about.", Sabrina lowered her voice, "It takes a lot to break away. We can't force her. It's how you get caught." She nodded at the woman, "Good luck." and hurried off, rifle readied as she called out, "Move, Calahan." He followed, the final words of the stranger haunting him with their hopelessness and cold conviction as he fought his way out of the vet center side by side with Sabrina. "It's inevitable. He's going to call you right back here when he needs you. And you're going to run to him. You can't escape." I sure as hell won't go down gently, lady. There was always hope, a way out of the darkness. Sabrina had taught him that.

Prompt: Send 💭 to hear my OCs most recent thought about your OC.

Bonus, a teeny tiny snippet from Sabrina too. No clue where this went. 🤣🤣 Who sent her, why she's at the ranch, idk. 🤷‍♀️

Quiet footsteps were the first thing Sabrina heard as she sat on the couch in wait of John to arrive back home. She was immediately on high alert, spotting a difference in how they sounded compared to his, then a dark figure that was definitely not John sneaking up to the stairs came into view and confirmed her suspicion. She reached out, turning on the lamp next to the couch, simultaneously her other hand grasped John's knife from her boot. The light coming on alerted the intruder to her presence. It was a slender redhead, and she was clutching a blade of her own. "I was going to ask if you're here for revenge or for some other reason. I guess that knife answers my question.", Sabrina muttered as the stranger examined her from a distance, unmoving from her spot. "Does it, really?", finally came as a retort. "He's not here either way." "I got the answer I came for already." "Then you can leave.", Sabrina got up, walking over to the same door the intruder snuck in through and opened it, "Whatever issues you have with him, find a different location to raise them at. Especially not around my sister." The woman walked over to her slowly with an unreadable expression and breezed past her on her way outside when she muttered, "You're her." Sabrina didn't bother to ask what she meant by that, instead she shut the door and rubbed her temples, wondering if John was even going to make an appearance that night. Or the talk would have to wait for whenever he would decide to come home. She couldn't help but admit whoever the woman was, she was ballsy and her demeanor screamed danger, it made her worry why she had shown up and left so easily.

[envihellbender]

Michael and Gerry petsitting puppy Tim

Characters: Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker

Verse: the Magnus Archives, human pet au (Tim is a half human half canine pet owned by John and Martin.)

—

“Instructions for taking care of Tim,” Gerry began, flicking through the booklet John and Martin had given them when they dropped him off to be looked after for a few days. He was lounging on the sofa whilst Michael was sat on the floor next to Tim who was laid on his large dog bed, stretched out smiling with Michael rubbing his belly. Tim’s eyes were half lidded, a smile on his face as if he’d reached peak contentment. “I think John is taking this a little far, you know.”

“Well, they’ve not left him before. And he’s not very good at being alone,” Michael pointed out. “And he’s such a good handsome boy,” he added to Tim, who gave a little content bark in response.

“Wow, this guy eats better than we do,” Gerry said before clearing his throat. “For breakfast, he likes bacon, sausages, and/or eggs - his favourite is scrambled. For lunch, usually we give him bread, cheese, and some sliced meat, and sometimes he has sausage rolls or a steak slice from Greggs. For dinner, he’ll basically have what we’re having. He gets a sweet treat once after dinner. Do not give him: anything too spicy - it makes him sick, or too many snacks in between - I have given you the maximum amount of jerky and lardons to give him over three days. Portions are the same as you would give yourself.”

“Wow, who’s a gourmet puppy,” Michael said, giving Tim scratches behind the ear.

“Oh, he’s given us money to cover it,”

“Do you want some treats?” At this Tim’s two ears perked up, at one point they were hidden from how overgrown and dishevelled his hair was. Now his waves are much neater and his two reddish ears pointed up and flopped a little at the top.

“I dunno, we’ve only got a limited-” Before Gerard could finish, Michael had grabbed the jerky from Tim’s bag. Tim spun onto his knees his eyes lit up as Michael threw the treat a few feet away causing Tim to run after it, grabbing it in his mouth and wagging his thick reddish tail.

“Okay but-” Gerard began as Michael threw Tim another. Gerard sighed and kept flicking through the booklet. “Apparently he humps things and if he does we’re supposed to tell him to go fuck his toy or one of his teddies depending on if he is just scratching or wants to fuck something.”

“I dunno, he’s pretty. I’d be okay with him humping my leg,” Michael said as he looked at Tim’s green eyes and defined cheekbones. When he came back to him after fetching the jerky he stroked his back where the red fur met his pale skin.

“We are not sending him back to John and Martin twenty pounds heavier and humping everything in sight,” Gerard frowned. Tim looked at him with a tilted head before bounding over to him and jumping on the sofa. He patted at his arm with his hands that were folded over like paws, Gerard put an arm around him and scratched his back. “Wait, are you allowed on the furniture?” He asked flicking through the booklet.

“He is now,” Michael grinned.