#maybe it's saved for when Michael returns

[pain-is-too-tired]

percy and annabeth should've moved to Alaska send tweet

Other than the whole out of the gods focus thing, I honestly don't see them having a reason they'd want to?

Its too far from anything familiar. I don't see Percy wanting to be too far from his mom and Estelle(i mean, California is already pretty far. Of course he can use Mrs.O'Leary, but still. Long distances still effect her.)

And, why he definitely wants to stop getting drag into things by the gods, camp half blood still holds importance to him. I'd think he'd want to at least stay somewhat in the loop with other demigods and there if something really bad happens.

We see in Tlo that New York/Manhattan is pretty special to him to. Of course he's going to school on California for New Rome, but I see him moving back to New York after. I mean the guy literally shoved Michael out of the way than got actually angry seeing Manhattan put to sleep. I actually don't think it's talked about how Percy's loyalty also kinda includes Manhattan. Like that's his home. Where he was raised, where Camp is close by. He feels comfortable in Manhattan. I just don't see him really wanting to move. I mean, again yeah New Rome exists. But i think that mainly would be the exception because of the safety of it being for demigods and legacies. Even then I see him feeling wierd there considering what we do know about how they are with elite and old money family that lives there.

Alaska is also more dangerous because of it being out of relm of the gods. Percy wants a peaceful life, I don't think he'd want to risk living where he knows monster can still get to them and be more comfortable doing so. Especially if they plan to start a family at some point.

Its fun thought, but definitely don't think it work out well ^^'

[felassan]

Snippets. 🐺💜

For Game Informer’s July 17th DA:TV article, "BioWare On Returning To The Dragon Age Series, 10 Years After Inquisition", the article is still titled as such on its own page, but it looks like on the GI DA:TV Hub page its listing was updated to "Dragon Age: The Veilguard Is 'Respectful And Referential' To Previous Games Without Making Them Mandatory"

[previous comment for context - Brenon: "we do have "decision saves" before big choice moments, but there are still a bunch that depend on a whole mess of stuff you've done earler...so yeah...RIP"]. Derek on this: "Choice and consequence, baby." [source]

[context: DA official Twitter's news about what's coming in August] Derek: "Buckle up!" [source]

Bryony Corrigan (Rook) on the strike: "I care a lot about this game! @/dragonage. Gutted we are unable to speak more about the game for now but absolutely in solidarity with actors in the US. I hope @/EquityUK are also fighting for better protection against AI clauses in the UK too…!" [source]

Matt Rhodes recently wrote to his mailing list that "The project I’ve been working on for many years is nearing completion. In my rare free moments, I’ve been starting to organize concept art to start posting after the game ships." [source] So it sounds like DA:TV is nearing completion and that he will be posting DA:TV concept art that he created after release. [This] is the link to his website where you can view his art, including some existing DA:TV and previous DA game concept art. If you click the envelope symbol on this page, that's how you can subscribe to the mailing list

from Community Councilmember Ladyinsanity - Lucanis x Rook apparently might be an "angst pairing" and there's maybe another one of these in the game also...? 👀 [source]

A user mentioned that they aren't keen on the word "roadmap". Michael Gamble explained: "all it means is a list of cool things you can expect to see us showing." [source]

Bellara's family name Lutare wasn't recently changed as some users wondered, it was Lutare at least a year ago during development. It seems it was just mis-printed or mis-reported in the GI coverage [source]

This article describes DA:TV as the most beautiful game the writer saw at SGF. It says the prologue is dated 9 years after DA:I. "Varric isn’t a ginger so much as a grizzled gray fox now". On Solas, he "wants to tear down the Veil that separates Thedas from the world of demons, restoring his people’s immortality and glory and sacrificing thousands in the process. But when his ritual goes awry, two of his most ancient and powerful adversaries are released. They seek only to finish what they started millennia ago – the complete and utter domination of our world." The game moves quite seamlessly from action to cutscene, and in the prologue "every cutscene is clearly building toward something larger". Position matters in combat. There is an accessibility option which involves the path-tracing of enemies' ranged attacks. At the beginning of the demo, the devs mentioned that they thought about the way different lighting affects your character. " The animations associated with combat are complex for one reason: responsive character features." CC has "inclusion of thick curly hair and capturing the tightly curled texture of Black hairstyles and natural hair", customizable shoulder-width and "a much-welcomed broad spectrum of skin tones—capturing both cool and warm undertones of both white and brown skin". The article highlighted the fluid movement of cloth. The writer also said, "I’m sure other Summer Game Fest previews will have a lot to say on the evolving relationship between Varric and Solas". [source] ((I don't remember seeing this article til now, it's from June though so I either missed it or have seen it and forgotten. also I don't know how accurate it is but the writer was one of the attendees of the DA:TV demo at SGF))

[character limit text break!]

Malcolm: "When I joined DA:Ve I was really hoping there'd be a romanceable dwarf companion and boy howdy did that come true. Harding is ☀️delightful☀️" [source]

[context: this Tumblr post of some neat art] Malcolm: "This is amazing and I fully went "oh wow that really sounds like Emmrich" before remembering that Nick Boraine is in fact a entire human person." [source]

User: "Speaking of Stalker, as a player the description of Bellara and Veil Jumper i've heard so far, alongside their exploration of Arlathan, somehow reminds me of Clear Sky and Chornobyl in Stalker series..." John Epler: "great eye! roadside picnic, Annihilation and STALKER were all absolutely inspirations" [source]

John Epler: "time to slowly make my way home after an awesome 4 days. thanks for an amazing experience to everyone who was a part of it. back to work." [source]

User: "We know there are returning characters in The Veilguard, so my question is: How would you and the rest of the writers go about writing a returning character who was originally primarily written by a writer who is no longer at the studio? What is the process?" Trick Weekes: "1. Watch videos to get the performance, how the character speaks. 2. Don’t try to replicate the character exactly. Allow them to have grown. Morrigan in DAI wasn’t Morrigan in DAO. She’d grown up. 3. Trust Character Art and Performance/VO. As soon as Morrigan walks in and talks in DAI, it works." [source]

Ali Hillis (Harding) on Twitter: "@dragonage @/bioware @/BioWarePulse @/ea #/DragonAge #/SDCC #/SDCC2024 FOLLOW ON INSTA FOR MORE!" [source]

Alex Jordan (Rook): "To all the D&D loving Dragon Age fans out there, let me tell you about my D&D group, made up of faces from the games industry! Including the voices of Geralt from The Witcher, Clive from Final Fantasy XVI, and Noah from Xenoblade! We are ⁦@/NaturalSix ⁩#/DragonAge" [source]

Erika Ishii (Rook): "Grateful I got to spend SDCC celebrating my roles in 2 games I love. Thank you to the devs (including laid-off workers who deserve full credit!), my friends, and the community. This is the last you’ll hear from me about my games from struck companies until they sign an interim agreement or the strike is won. Keep playing games, but share info from the union and let people know we’re taking a stand for all creatives. See you on the other side! ✊🏼🎮" [source]

Jeff Berg (Rook): "Damn, I love making video games. It’s like the perfect blending of theatre on film, where an actor is encouraged to collaborate and let their imaginations soar. And damn, do I ever love the incredible support from the fans of this incredible medium. Unfortunately, we’re in a time of upheaval in the industry. So let me make it perfectly clear: Video game performers deserve fair wages, safe working conditions and A.I. protections. I call on the employers to #/LevelUpTheContract. Guys, this is no single player game. We need you on our team. #/SagAftraStrong #/VideoGameStrike". Text in the accompanying video reads “Video game performers are stuck in a grind. AI is stealing voices, and companies are hoarding profits. The future of voiceover and performance capture artists is at stake. But out fight isn’t single-player. Whether you’re a gamer, a fan, a performer, a labor ally, or just someone believes in fairness. Keep video games people powered. We need you on our team. Video game companies must offer AI protections to ALL video game performers. Join me and show your support for those who bring our favorite games to life.” [source]

Jessica Clark (Neve): "Aaah a true bucket list moment!! Thrilled to play Neve Gallus a Private Investigator & one of the companions in the upcoming DragonAge The Veilguard Video Game!! We are appearing at the San Diego Comic Con as we speak!! With so much thanks & appreciation for the most fantastic team @/bioware & inspiring fellow cast members including (not limited to) @/missalihillis @/nickboraine @/zach.mendez @/jeffberg1 & more 🙏🏽 Draon Age The Veilguard releases this Fall 2024 & from what I've seen... It's truly epic!! You will love it & yes, it's worth the wait. (SAG-AFTRA issued us a specific window to promote & celebrate at Comic Con & from Sunday night onwards we will all be joining our fellow actors in the picket line for the Video Game Strike)." Text in the accompanying video reads "I’ve wanted to share this for so long! Thrilled to reveal that I play Neve Gallus in the upcoming Dragon Age The Veilguard!! Appearing at Comic Con San Diego as we speak” [source]

[source]

Jessica: "Last night's Comic Con San Diego's Fandom red carpet celebrating Dragon Age The Veilguard! Releasing this Fall 2024!!" [source]

Zach Mendez (Lucanis): "A truly amazing first day of SD Comic Con at the @/dragonagegame poster signing at @/darkhorsecomics booth. Thank you to the fans who made my first con unforgettable #/sdcc /#sdcomiccon #/dragonage #/darkhorsecomics #/lucanisdellamorte #/voiceacting #/bioware #/eagames #/theveilguard #/babysfirstcon" [source]

Zach: "Dragon Age. Dancing. Derulo. Thanks @/fandom for a killer party" [source]

Nick Boraine (Emmrich): "Thank you @/bioware @/ea and @/comic_con - had an incredible time! #/dragonage #/theveilgaurd #/emmrichvolkarin @/zach.mendez @/missalihillis @/thejessicaroseclark - can’t wait for the fall release date." [source]

Ali: "Honored and thrilled to have been a part of another epic @/bioware story w @/ea . Thanks from the bottom of my heart to the whole team! We worked hard, and put our all into this one. Can’t wait to see you all at #/sdcc2024 this week to celebrate @/dragonagegame #/dragonageveilguard" [source]

Ali: "1st day of San Diego Comic Con 2024 !! The lines were long and the signings so much fun! Met some really nice fans, hung out w dragon age performance director @/ashley___barlow , companions @/thejessicaroseclark @/zach.mendez & Nick Boraine . So SO grateful for this #/dragonageveilguard family!" [source]

Ali: "I love every one of these people. There, I said it! What a warm welcome we received! Thanks to ALL! For EVERYTHING!" [source]

Ali on SDCC: "Gooooooood times. ❤️" [source]

Here is a 'behind the scenes at the DA:TV SDCC panel' photo -

[source]

Here is a photo of Erika Ishii with Rook's blue knife -

[source]

Here is an excerpt from Brianne Battye's website:

Text reads: "Dragon Age: The Veilguard Defy the gods. Rise as Rook, Dragon Age’s newest hero. Be who you want to be and play how you want to play as you fight back and lead your team of seven companions, each with their own rich story. Together, you will become the Veilguard. Coming soon From EA/BioWare. I was responsible for a companion story arc, significant side characters, faction content, exploration content, and helping develop and expand worldbuilding lore."

[source]

Also, last year Zach Mendez (Lucanis) made a prior podcast appearance:

Zach: "I was lucky enough over the pandemic to have just hit a really nice commercial, and then I got this beautiful job on a video game where I was doing motion capture. Motion capture? Okay, so you put on this leotard, this black suit, and those little dots on, and you do all the motion for a video game, and you get to do the voice, and they put all these black lines on your face, so they capture your performance and whatnot. And so I was doing that and had some commercial money, so throughout the pandemic, for the past few years, I’ve just been getting to live off acting, which is great." -- Zach: "[Voiceover is] what I'm working on right now." -- Zach: "My father's from Spain." -- Zach: "I'm currently working on a video game, I can't say which video game." "It is a big one, it's not a big deal, it's a big one, I'm one of the main characters, it's not that big a deal." The interviewer asked about how acting in video games works. "Somebody's giving some performance that of course, they layer on imaging afterwards, like in graphics, right? But you're giving facial expressions, that's what gives it the reality, that's what I find so fascinating about motion capture, is that, you get to give big performances, because you're playing these crazy characters in crazy situations, and a lot of your performance is coming through in the final product which is, just gets me excited about the future of things about all the different ways. It's my voice, a lot of my facial features, I voice, I think, one or two characters in this game."

[source (dated ~a year ago. source link isn’t work-appropriate. I don’t recommend the podcast)]

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: He Came Home [Yandere Michael Myers x Reader]

Title: He Came Home [Yandere Michael Myers x Reader]

Synopsis: You're being stalked by the Boogeyman but no one believes you.

For Horrorfest request:

I'm so happy you write for Halloween omg 👀 can I request a stalker ish michael Myers, more yendere than I'm going to murder you brutally right away lol

Word Count: 1647

Notes: Yandere, stalking, death/killing (not reader); some graphic violence descriptions.

It’s someone playing a prank. People always do it around Halloween.

You shouldn’t make up stories using Michael Myers. It’s not funny. He really killed people, you know.

If you don’t have concrete evidence, we can’t do anything for you. It’s probably just some teen messing with you.. Keep your doors locked and call us if anything happens.

You’re being stalked by the Boogeyman and not a single person in your life, your whole damn town, believes you. And maybe there’s a reason for it, God knows that it wasn’t uncommon for people to pull pranks like this--to turn tragedy into mockery and entertainment.

Damn kids, and all that.

But it’s different now because it’s real and it’s happening to you. And you are not crazy or lying and this is not a prank. You’ve seen him more than once, a shadow at first, something you brushed off.

The next time, he was standing down the street, half hidden by a tree. But you saw him. And he saw you. And every muscle in your body had tensed before you whirled around and ran. It was a joke, a teenager with a morbid sense of humor, maybe one of your friends praying on your scaredy-cat tendencies. 

But then you saw him from your bedroom window, standing down below in the grass. 

And your kitchen window, behind the fluttering sheets you’d tacked up earlier in the day.

And you know, you just know, that one day he will be inside your house.

Coming for you.

--

No one believes you. But that doesn’t stop your friends from laughingly agreeing to have a sleepover to ease your worries, something none of you have done since you were teenagers. Only this time instead of sneaking booze from mom’s locked cabinet using the pilfered key and drinking until you saw stars, you were going to be stone-cold sober and sleeping with a knife.

If (when?) he came for you, you’d be ready. 

Glenn disappears first, after announcing that he’s heading out to the garage to grab a beer. Like he’s at some teenage kegger.

Your friends laugh when he doesn’t return--maybe he’s chugging them all and not saving any for the rest of us--but you start to tear up and Tina sighs and says she’ll go out to get them.

But Tina doesn’t come back, either.

The house is silent and it’s just you and Nancy, and Nancy is the sensible one. She won’t make jokes about what you say you’re experiencing, even if she’s keen to downplay it as a prank. She doesn’t dismiss Glenn and Tina not coming back as something silly. Instead, she locks the door to the garage and flicks off all the lights and grabs a baseball bat.

Don’t, you should say, don’t go looking for them. But you’re too afraid to look yourself and Nancy, Nancy is strong isn’t she? Strong and brave. She won’t do anything stupid. So she heads to the front door and tells you to lock it as soon as she leaves, then wait by the phone and call the cops if she isn’t back in a few minutes.

And you do, with fingers that fumble and sweat. The lock clicks hard and you run to the phone, hand trembling on the receiver so hard that you keep lifting it off and hearing little bursts of dial tone. 

You glance down at your watch, squinting in the dimness to see the time. It’s been a minute, maybe two. How long should you wait? Maybe Nancy was chewing them out, scolding them for scaring you. Yeah. She would do that. Then she’d make them come in and apologize, like she’d had to do before when they pushed your buttons too hard. 

This fantasy carries you through to the next minute, and the next, until the garage door bursts open, and you can hear the wood splintering and cracking, swiping away anything but an awful reality that sends your heart rate sky-high.

You should run, really, but it feels like your legs are stuck to the floor. Rooted like a tree, even though your hands are now shaking wildly. You dimly hear the dial tone and remember what you’re supposed to do, and your finger shoves itself into the rotary dial, twisting and twisting the local sheriff’s office--

Until the phone is ripped out of the wall like a piece of paper, and you turn around to see the real-life boogeyman standing in front of you. No longer far away and through glass, but flesh and blood, close enough to see, close enough to smell. 

Close enough that you can see the glint of a knife in his hand.

You can even see his eyes through the mask and meet his gaze, your own eyes wide with pinprick pupils, and his merely staring at you through the holes in this mask. You hear, softly enough, the sound of breathing; his or yours? 

A gasp is caught in your throat when he grabs your shirt and shoves you away from the ruined phone, hard enough to knock you off your feet. You land on the floor, but your legs no longer feel rooted, and you scramble to your feet and do the only thing you can do: run.

The ruined garage door is the path of least resistance, and you run through the doorway and grope for the railing but miss it. 

You trip down the stairs, landing on the concrete hard enough to make your palms sting and even bleed, but--no, that’s not your blood. That’s not your blood at all. The blood on your palm is thick and wet and when you look up, you see Nancy’s corpse sprawled out on the ground, face down, stab wounds oozing from her back. Tina and Glenn are behind her, both bleeding heavily from the chest. Tina’s red chest heaves and maybe her eyes look at you, but you can’t tell if she actually sees you.

“Oh,” you say, voice suddenly unrecognizable to your own ears. “Oh.”

And there’s a shadow above you, the shadow of shadows, and you don’t even have time to turn around as his hand grips the back of your shirt and pulls you backward. 

Words flash through you--I’m going to die--before there’s a dull awful pain at the back of your head (why the knife blunt?) and darkness overtakes everything in the world.

--

You don’t expect to wake up, but you do. 

And when you do, you’re sitting in an unfamiliar space full of dust and dirt. A simple room with nothing in it but a ragged blanket and some stray, dusty furniture--an old wooden chair, a wooden chest. The windows are boarded up, but you can tell it’s night-time.

A house that no one has been in for years, maybe. A house that has fallen into disrepair and ruin. There weren’t any houses like this in town proper, you knew, so you must be in the woods outside of town, where there were occasionally remnants of abandoned places. 

Why were you in the woods? Why were you in a house?

The thoughts are clear and simple, piercing through a swimming ache in the back of your head. You focus on these thoughts to keep you from passing out again. In the woods, in a house. In the woods, in a house. In the woods, in a house.

But why?

And then you remember. Michael Myers. Your friends. The blood. The pain.

As if on cue, there’s another sound in the house. A sound that is distinctly familiar, heavy footsteps and yes, it must have been his before--the sound of breathing. Soft and subtle, like a stray sound muffled through the wall. 

You move to stand on weakened legs, but keep yourself pressed back against the wall as the figure of Michael Myers walks and stands in the doorway.

It’s as if the air itself becomes thick and heavy with his presence, and you almost want to sit down again. But you force yourself to stay standing. At least if you’re standing, you have a chance to run, if you can.

But he doesn’t give you one, not at this moment, anyway. Instead he stays in the doorway and simply stares at you.

Long enough for your tongue to loosen, words coming out dry through your chapped lips. How long were you out, anyway?

“Why… why did you bring me here?”

No answer.

“Where are we?”

No answer.

Finally, you swallow spit, and ask a question that you don’t really want to be answered. 

“Are you going to kill me?”

You swear you hear him inhale through his nose, a short, thin sort of breath. 

He takes a step into the room. There’s nowhere for you to go, and you feel helpless sobs start to bubble up in your throat. You look down and there’s no knife--that you can see--but that doesn’t stop the visuals of your murdered friends and vague impressions of everyone you know who has been killed by him from flashing through your head.

He stops right in front of you. You half expect him to grab your neck and twist. Or grab your throat and squeeze.

But all he does is tilt his head slightly, looking at you through the holes in his mask. You wish you could erase the visual memory of his eyes, wish that you’d never seen them at all; the faraway impression that he had two big black holes was more merciful than this. 

And then his hand reaches out and touches your face, callused fingertips brushing against your cheek. 

His fingers leave behind traces of grime and your friends' dried blood. 

[insanityclause]

Over the past 13 years, Tom Hiddleston has died more times than he can recall. “Let me think about this,” the actor tells us, pausing to count in his head. “I think, officially, there were two big ones.” 

He’s referring to his many exits from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the blockbuster franchise in which he’s played shape-shifting Norse god Loki Laufeyson since Kenneth Branagh’s 2011 film “Thor”—the son of Asgardians Odin (Anthony Hopkins) and Frigga (Rene Russo), and the half-sibling of Thor (Chris Hemsworth), the god of thunder. 

The character has since bounced between villain and reluctant antihero across five films, a handful of post-credits scenes, and Michael Waldron’s Disney+ spinoff series “Loki,” which Hiddleston also executive produces. The show wrapped its second—and supposedly final—season last November. The finale presents an end for the character, but not one of the aforementioned “big ones.” 

Hiddleston’s first “official” farewell came in Alan Taylor’s 2013 sequel “Thor: The Dark World,” which saw the god of mischief take a sword to the chest to save his beefy brother. “As written in the first script, it was a true sacrifice,” Hiddleston says. Unfortunately for Marvel’s long-term plans, the actor had done too good a job playing the trickster.

“When Marvel [executives] were testing the movie, they’d given [viewers] questionnaires that said, ‘Is there anything you didn’t understand?’ ” he remembers. “Literally every single audience member said, ‘Well, obviously, Loki’s not really dead.’ ” 

In classic comic-book fashion, the character did return, gallivanting alongside his brother in Taika Waititi’s 2017 follow-up “Thor: Ragnarok.” He died again one year later (“big one” number two) in the Russo brothers’  “Avengers: Infinity War.” There were no smokescreens or questionnaires this time; audiences watched as Loki’s neck was crushed by the purple fist of intergalactic warlord Thanos (Josh Brolin). 

Hiddleston remembers arriving in Atlanta to shoot his final scene and immediately bumping into Brolin. “He came up to me, gave me this huge hug, and said, ‘I’m so sorry, man.’ ” 

He meant it, too; everyone meant it. The sun, it seemed, had actually set on Hiddleston’s MCU journey. “At the end of that scene, I got a big round of applause, and everybody was so sweet and kind and gracious,” he says. “I got notes and emails saying, ‘Tom, you’ve done so much for us—what a journey. Come and see us anytime.’ I really thought that was the end.” 

And it was, for real, right up until it wasn’t—when the time-traveling shenanigans of 2019’s “Avengers: Endgame” blasted a younger version of Loki out of the established canon and into his own series. Over two seasons, the multiversal storyline envisions the title character as a figure who exists outside time and space. Across all there is, was, and may come to pass, there will always be a Loki, in some form, wreaking havoc. 

Hiddleston has long since accepted what this means for him as an actor. Maybe “Loki” Season 2 really was his last time in the role; or maybe he’ll play him until the sun burns out. “I’ve realized that, in human consciousness, that’s who Loki is,” he says. “Loki is this ancient, mythic character, who, in our collective mythology, represents the trickster, the transgressor, the boundary-crosser, the shape-shifter—somebody who’s mercurial and spontaneous and unpredictable who will always confound your expectations and wriggle out from underneath your certainties and convictions. Someone who we need and [who] is necessary.”

Hiddleston pauses, getting emotional. “Maybe Loki escaping death a couple of times is sort of an emblem of who he is in our culture,” he says, grinning at his own gusto. The actor has a habit of being self-deprecating about the depth of the character’s lore. “I spend a lot of time thinking about Loki. You can probably tell.”

You can tell, and it’s incredibly endearing. Talking to Hiddleston about Loki feels like discussing Shakespeare’s Richard III with Laurence Olivier or Tennessee Williams’ Blanche DuBois with Jessica Lange. They were actors who put their definitive stamps on those roles by returning to the well and constantly digging deeper. 

In conversation, Hiddleston is equally as likely to reference comic-book arcs as he is the ancient, anonymous Old Norse scribes of the “Poetic Edda” or Richard Wagner’s epic four-cycle opera “Der Ring des Nibelungen.” He speaks reverently of actors who embodied the trickster god before him, like Jim Carrey in Chuck Russell’s 1994 comedy “The Mask” and Alan Cumming in Lawrence Guterman’s 2005 sequel, “Son of the Mask.” He also heaps praise on those who played the part after him, such as his “Loki” costars Sophia Di Martino, Richard E. Grant, Deobia Oparei, and—in one very surreal Season 1 moment—“some alligator they found somewhere.” He cites legendary Marvel creators Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, and Walter Simonson alongside the likes of English essayist Walter Pater and Irish playwright George Bernard Shaw, who once wrote of life as a “splendid torch” to keep burning for those who follow.

“Loki is ‘a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment,’ ” Hiddleston quotes, “and I want to make it burn as brightly as I can before passing it on to future generations.” 

This level of study started before he even landed the role. He recalls the 24 hours leading up to his “Thor” audition, when he was 28 years old. After graduating from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in 2005, he quickly earned small-screen and stage acclaim—but he hadn’t yet achieved a major breakthrough. When he received the script for “Thor,” it felt familiar. “I remember thinking, This is almost Shakespearean, this language,” Hiddleston says. “What’s the best example I can [look to] of an actor who managed to humanize and make real this elevated world of myth?” 

He found the answer in Christopher Reeve, who played the title role in Richard Donner’s 1978 blockbuster “Superman.” “He’s masterful in that film,” Hiddleston says. “In a way, it’s a similar premise: He’s a god or he’s a being from a different realm, and it’s not naturalistic in the way that we might expect. He does it so truthfully, and it’s so clear and clean and open and honest. I thought, If I can even approximate or get close to the kind of clarity that Christopher Reeve had in those films, I’ll be lucky.” 

And then, the morning of his “Thor” audition, Hiddleston went for a run, “which is my habit before doing anything unusual,” he explains. 

Running has remained a constant throughout the actor’s MCU tenure. At any given moment over the last decade, the god of mischief was likely doing laps around Marvel’s go-to shooting location, Pinewood Studios (now Trilith Studios) in Atlanta. “Life is movement; I really believe that,” Hiddleston says. 

“I find when I’m running or walking, the repetitive nature of it relaxes the mind and allows ideas and inspiration to come from a deeper place. I see my work as an actor—especially in preparation for a project or a scene—as almost preparing myself to be open and ready to receive ideas, to receive energy from other actors, to receive energy from my imagination.”

Hiddleston found the technique particularly helpful when he was filming a scene for the “Loki” series premiere that he calls “one of the most thrilling challenges I’ve ever had as an actor.” In it, Loki has been poached from the flow of time itself by the temporality-policing Time Variance Authority and forced to watch what is, essentially, a highlight reel of his entire MCU arc. It’s one of the most deeply existential moments you’ll ever find streaming alongside the likes of “Bluey” and the “Cars” movies. Here is a man watching the sum total of his life—his hopes, his dreams, his failures, his own death—play out in a 30-second clip that ends with the cold, clinical words: “End of file.”

“I just kept imagining: If you were afforded the opportunity or forced to watch your own death as a bystander, it would bring about an existential shock and crisis unlike any other,” Hiddleston explains. “It was a scene where I thought, I don’t have a reference for how to play this. I just have to allow shock, disgust, disgrace, shame, disbelief, acceptance, incredulity, and sorrow to exist in the center of me.” 

As an executive producer on the series, Hiddleston had a say as to which of Loki’s many misdeeds would play in the sequence. He chose clips like Frigga’s death in “Thor: The Dark World” and his father’s final words in “Thor: Ragnarok”—moments Hiddleston knew would most fill the character with regret. As production was preparing to shoot the scene, he asked first assistant director Richard Graves for a 20-minute warning.

 “I decided to jog around the stage and internalize as many of those memories of those people, those characters, those actors [as possible]—to try and find the center of my own vulnerability,” Hiddleston says. “Part of the joy of it was just going back to basics, trying to simplify this very complex thing…. Go for a jog, get into your body, allow yourself to be open, and just be there; just feel it.”

One “Loki”-like time jump later, Hiddleston found himself in a similar situation as he was preparing to shoot his final moment of Season 2—a scene that effectively caps Loki’s 13-year arc. Across 12 episodes, the show guided its title character toward a truly heroic end: With all of existence on the verge of collapse, he steps out of time to tie the strands of every reality together. As the credits roll, Loki sits at the center of time, holding in place all that is—alone. 

It’s a lot for any actor to internalize, especially one who’s performing solo in front of a blue screen. With 45 minutes to cameras rolling, episode co-director Aaron Moorhead made a suggestion. “He said to me, ‘Why don’t you go back, if you can bear it, and watch some of your work [over] the last 15 years?’ ” Hiddleston remembers. “ ‘Take it in, see what it means to you, and then carry it when you step out onto the stage.’ ” 

The actor took Moorhead’s advice to heart. And suddenly, without meaning to, he was mirroring the moment that started the series: absorbing the sum total of Loki’s MCU run. But this time, his regret had been replaced with gratitude. Hiddleston watched clips from “Thor,” remembering a time when he and Hemsworth had yet to ascend to the A-list. He recalled working with powerhouses like Hopkins and Russo, and the bonds he forged with the “original six Avengers” in 2011. He thought about how fun it was to film “Thor: Ragnarok” with Tessa Thompson and Jeff Goldblum, and of the more recent friendships he found with his “Loki” castmates Di Martino and Owen Wilson. 

“I thought, What Loki is doing, he is doing for his friends. And so, Tom, why don’t you do it for your friends?” Hiddleston says. “That’s where the two of us met in that moment. And then I was so grateful I had this most amazing crew, and we did it together.”

The actor is, of course, noncommittal as to whether this is actually the end of his MCU run. The franchise is scheduled out until at least 2027, and Hemsworth has mentioned his desire to make another “Thor” film. And if Loki’s past has proven anything, even the most official endings can be undone. 

Either way, it seems to Hiddleston that something significant has ended, even if it’s just Loki’s full-circle arc. “I hope it feels redemptive because his broken soul is partially healed; and you see that this character, who is capable of love, has made a decision from and for love,” he says. The actor cites the “beautiful prologue” of the first “Thor” film, in which Hopkins’ Odin tells his two sons: “Only one of you can ascend to the throne, but both of you were born to be kings.”

“At the end of Season 2, Loki is sitting on a kind of throne; but it’s not arrived in the shape he expected, and there’s no glory in it,” Hiddleston explains. “There’s a kind of burden, and he’s alone. He’s doing it for his friends, but he has to stay there without them. There’s a poetic melancholy there which I found very moving.”

For now, Hiddleston “can’t even conceive” of his life without Loki. He only hopes that he’s lived up to his guiding ethos as an actor, which he sums up with a plea from E.M. Forster’s 1910 novel “Howards End”: “Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height.”

“The feedback loop for actors is that we get to inhabit a fiction,” Hiddleston says. “But hopefully, that fiction bears the shape of a truth that we recognize about life—that what we do reflects the ups and downs, the peaks and troughs, and the breadth and profundity of all of our lives.”

Hiddleston exists in that space between fiction and reality, the work and the resulting art, the prose and the passion. Long after we’ve moved on from our interview and started casually discussing the cherry blossoms blooming in New York, his eyes light up. He’s made another connection, remembered one more thing—just one last thing he’d like to impart about Loki. 

He spends a lot of time thinking about Loki. You can probably tell.

“I’m so aware that the reason I’ve been able to play him for so long is because of the audience’s curiosity and passion,” Hiddleston says. “I’ve been delighted to find that for a character of such stature, he’s remarkably human. Many of the characteristics that people connect to in Loki are deeply human feelings. That’s been the pleasure, is infusing this elevated character with humanity.”

Even then, honestly, it feels as if Hiddleston, like Loki, could go on forever. Unfortunately, outside of the MCU, time moves in only one direction. Once again, he has to run.

This story originally appeared in the June 6 issue of Backstage Magazine. Subscribe to In the Envelope: The Actor's Podcast to hear our full conversation with Hiddleston (out 6/6). 

[vidavalor]

Hello lovely! I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about Maggie in Final1 5? Isn't it weird that she wants to go back to talk to Az and Crowley while Nina's working? Something about it feels off to me.

Hello right back. 💕 There's chamomile mint tea and shortbread since we're on a Maggie theme, if you'd like some. Maggie's behavior from that scene on is super fucking weird, I agree.

Before the milk run-- when Maggie becomes the only involved character whom we lose track of a bit during The Final 15-- versus how she behaves when she returns is so strange as to be something that I consider maybe additional proof that things are not at all what they seem to be in The Final 15.

On Maggie and Crowley's weird Final 15 behavior, a possible meaning to all the allusions to robbery in S2, and what Maggie and Nina might be able to tell us about what happened at the end of S2.

TW: brief mentions of show's non-consensual possession/rape analogy.

Think for a moment about how truly weird Maggie's request for her and Nina to go back to the bookshop in that moment actually is...

It's only been a matter of minutes since Maggie and Nina were basically hostages in the bookshop who were almost killed by Michael and Saraqael. Crowley saved their lives in getting them out of the shop maybe, what? It's been a minute since I rewatched that bit of it but it couldn't have been more than 15 minutes prior?

The beings in the shop but for Maggie and Nina are supernatural and so left magically without using the door but while we the audience know that these people are no longer in the shop because we were watching it, Maggie and Nina do not know that. When Maggie suggests to Nina that they go talk to Crowley and Aziraphale, they have no way of knowing if the beings that just tried to kill them are still in the shop. They didn't even see Aziraphale leave with Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing yet because Nina was all "where's the other one?" to Crowley when they arrived back in the shop.

Maggie is literally like: Nina, I know you opened the business you own late and are the only one working right now and have a line of 20 people waiting for their morning, pre-work coffee but what if-- just hear me out-- we just made them wait an indefinite amount of time to voluntarily go back into the place where we nearly died a matter of minutes ago that could still be full of the people who wanted us dead and we did this for no other purpose than just to tell off my beloved adopted godfather and his partner, who just risked harm to save both our lives? And to maybe then also stick our noses into their love lives in return or something?

I mean... WHAT?!?! lol

Consider, even, how even more weird that is when Maggie, just *prior* to having gone to the mini-mart, had never been more on the same page with Nina and never more understanding?

She sacrificed her own want to go sleep behind the counter of her shop to offer to help Nina. It's a big moment of change in their relationship and shows a lot of growth for Maggie. She's gone from someone who is caring but has a tendency to only think about how things make her feel to seeing things from Nina's perspective. She's matured through the season into being someone more ready to be a partner to Nina. Maggie offering to help Nina with her morning rush-- and Nina accepting the help-- is the sweet, romantic moment showing that these two are heading in a positive direction, both individually and together.

When Maggie gets back with the milk, though? After she's been out of our sight for a few minutes? She's behaving very differently.

During S2, Maggie is shown to be a pretty guileless character. She might have the occasional judgemental moment but she's not deceptive or tricky and she really wouldn't hurt a fly. When Maggie comes back from the milk run, though, her insistence on Nina dropping everything and going with her in that moment is not just weird behavior but manipulative in a way that could not be more out of character for Maggie.

Nina has been in an abusive relationship where she was afraid of displeasing Lindsay. Maggie is aware of this, as it's been the subject of multiple conversations between them throughout the season. So, when Maggie gets so bizarrely insistent on Nina dropping her work-- her livelihood, her purpose, her job-- to meet Maggie's demands in that moment? When this isn't an emergency of any kind and isn't at all time-sensitive and there is no objective reason why Nina should be halting her job to do what Maggie wants in this moment? Maggie is being controlling in a Lindsay-like way. She keeps at it, knowing that Nina will give in and agree to go with her because Nina is used to doing that with her partner.

Nina hesitates and isn't sure whether or not to go with Maggie for a moment and I don't really blame her? This is the complete opposite behavior to Maggie before she left for the mini-mart. Maggie is suddenly acting quite a lot like her polar opposite-- the Lucifer-and-Heaven-paralleling Lindsay.

Maggie is also literally on Nina's shoulder like a devil the whole time in the scene in which she's convincing her to step away from the shop and go across the street with her to the other shop for a chat and...

...listen to what we just said there...

...it's a parallel to the thing that Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing is doing with Aziraphale, is it not?

So, what happened on the milk run?

Who did Maggie run into at the mini-mart that we couldn't see in the ending of S2 without it giving the game away? I wouldn't be surprised if, on this mirror-happy show, on the other side of learning in S3 that it was The Devil with the coffee in the bookshop in The Final 15, we also had a scene that showed that, while on her milk run, Maggie had a run-in with Sister Teresa's killer.

Did Hastur possess Maggie as part of Satan's plan? Was the idea to use Maggie and Nina to further trip Crowley and Aziraphale towards disaster to get Aziraphale? If so, it kind of half-worked. I'm not convinced that anything Maggie and Nina said to Crowley really mattered-- I think they weren't telling him anything he didn't already know or feel and that it's largely misdirection for the audience. What was effective, though, was the impression Aziraphale got upon seeing them leave as he was coming in.

Maggie and Nina being back in there at this weird time and then rushing out with smiles and comments like that they were "just leaving" and they were sure Crowley and Aziraphale had "a lot to discuss" seem to have led Aziraphale to assume that Crowley had asked them to come back and to the conclusion that he must have done so to tell them of his intent to ask Aziraphale to marry him. It's Maggie and Nina leaving the shop that reinforce to Aziraphale the idea that, when Crowley stands up afterwards, takes off his glasses, and says he supposes he has "something to say", that Crowley is only trying to communicate a proposal and not a plan.

It's what helps-- big time-- to lead Aziraphale to not listen for a shred of coded language for the entire scene. Neither he nor Crowley are listening for that with one another, which is why neither of them can truly understand what the other is saying, but Aziraphale's part of that is really fucked to Hell by the presence of Maggie and Nina in the shop when he came back. That's all pretty suspicious since Maggie was out of our sight for a few moments and came back fixated on the idea that she and Nina needed to go to the bookshop right that very moment and that it couldn't wait.

The Final 15 is a dark parallel to The Baby Swap plot and Maggie and Nina are full of shadows of Sisters Mary and Teresa to a point that the final shots of both of them in the series are mirror images of the final shots of their S1 characters. Nina looking through glass at Crowley departing is the last shot of Sister Mary both in 2008 and 2019, while Maggie's last shot?

To me, it's one of the most eerie moments in the entire series because of how much it visually resembles Sister Teresa's death.

Basically two minutes after we hear about The Second Coming... in the same season where Maggie and Nina's partial-vavoom gives way to a (possessed?) Gabriel saying: the dead will leave their graves and walk the Earth once more... we are shown Crowley and Aziraphale's apparent adopted goddaughter unresponsive on the counter of her shop.

Is Maggie dead?

Is Maggie asleep, like we were led to believe she wanted to do earlier in the episode? Maybe. Is she comatose/unconscious? Maybe. It's just that, best I can tell, she does not take a breath during the shot which I feel had to be intentional on the part of Maggie Service, and she's in the same position as we last saw Sister Teresa in S1...

Then, there's the robbery theme and how Maggie and Nina foreshadow so much of the end of S2 back in this scene here:

In Good Omens, the shop is the character. Maggie is, symbolically, the records she sells. The show also explains that Maggie's shop used to be a part of the bookshop. Now, there are three characters, not two, who are A.Z. Fell & Co.: Aziraphale, Crowley and Maggie. At the same time, Aziraphale is also The Small Back Room. The shops are intertwined as the characters are, essentially, family in the story. The fate of one is the fate of the other, which makes what Maggie and Nina foreshadow when talking about Maggie's shop while trapped together in Nina's not just the fate of Maggie's shop in S2 but also of the bookshop.

Maggie says that if she can't close the door to her shop, someone could walk in and take records. Maggie is the records she sells so, symbolically, this means someone could take Maggie. We got a bit of a preview of that when Shax appeared to get into her mind during the attack on the bookshop and Maggie also became the one who unintentionally "let the robbers in."

These robbers, Maggie frets... they could empty her till-- take all her money on a literal level... take her mind, or maybe even her life, on another. (Not to mention the now chill-inducing use of money-related words and coins with regards to the paralleling Crowley...) These robbers could take forcible ownership of Maggie's shop-- so, of Maggie. Maggie's shop was born of the bookshop... so, they could take forcible ownership of the bookshop, too.

Not just the physical bookshop, though that, too. The symbolic bookshop. Which is not only Aziraphale but Crowley and Aziraphale.

But, if The Small Back Room was originally part of the bookshop, then the bookshop really isn't just Crowley and Aziraphale-- it's Crowley, Aziraphale and Maggie.

If the robbers come for the bookshop, they've also come for The Small Back Room because it is all born of the same, symbolic shop.

Is that what they did?

Is that why Maggie is last shown to us non-responsive in her shop?

Now, Nina's even more foreshadowing reply:

Nina said that, if she owned a record shop, she'd be more concerned about "someone breaking in and leaving more records behind."

What are records? They're the literal records in the musical and old film sense that Maggie sells, yes, and also Maggie herself. They're also books, like what Aziraphale sells, and Aziraphale himself. But they're also a third thing that's very much of note in S2.

They're also the life's work of a scrivener, like what Muriel does.

Nina foreshadows someone breaking in and leaving "more records behind"... which is exactly what happens in The Final 15.

Elspeth's graverobbing. Bildad stealing Job and Sitis' wine and food. The 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. Aziraphale having the missing Shakespeare Robin Hood play in the box in 2.06. The robbery-based fantasy Aziraphale was telling Crowley in Lockdown: ...the other night, when a couple of young lads broke into the back and tried to steal the cash(cache)box!

The Final 15 is a robbery.

The last two episodes see the shop attacked during The Meeting Ball and into the next morning. Aziraphale is robbed blind of his entire life. Characters are taken hostage. Signals for help are tried and fail. The cop, it turns out, was a stooge for the robbers. Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing broke in through the open door and robbed the place blind, as Maggie foreshadowed. As Nina foreshadowed he would, what did the robber leave behind?

More records. Muriel.

To rob, as we know, is to steal. It's to plunder or strip a place from someone through force and/or violence. That is why it was once, in addition to being descriptive of physical goods stolen from a person, also a word that was used for rape, for which non-consensual possession has been analogous since the show's first episode. That is why some of us think that the music goes insane on the look to Crowley in the scene below. Satan is robbing Crowley-- forcing him to identify him as The Metatron to Aziraphale and the angels and to let Aziraphale go alone with him.

Satan attacked Crowley in front of Aziraphale and, while Aziraphale pretended he didn't see it, he did, which is why he led "The Metatron" straight out the door in an effort to get him away from Crowley. Because, speaking of characters behaving very weirdly... anyone have a better explanation for why guard dog Crowley sat in that chair like he couldn't get out of it and encouraged Aziraphale to go alone with a guy who once tried to kill them? It just doesn't make any sense unless his words are not really his own and there's only one character we've seen do that to him.

And if Crowley's not the only one behaving out of character, then what else happened to Maggie at the mini-mart but something similar?

What happened in The Final 15? Satan robbed the bookshop.

He and The Metatron don't give a toss about the shop itself and plan to destroy it alongside everything else once Armageddon gets rocking. They're there to get Crowley and Aziraphale out of the way for Armageddon by dividing and conquering. Just because we've yet to see blood doesn't mean this wasn't robbery by force.

Satan took hostages at the start-- letting the ones go he didn't care about go and keeping the ones most likely to influence the shop's owner: Crowley and Muriel.

Satan and The Metatron sacrificed Muriel to their plan, not caring if Muriel explodes along with the shop when they kick off Armageddon a matter of *checks watch* basically any minute now after S2. We think Muriel is better off in the shop at the end of S2 but I'm not totally sure they are. I think it actually might be one of the most dangerous places to be in right now. The bookshop didn't burn down this time-- it was burned as safe space in every possible way. It's a crime scene.

The Metatron and Satan are here for revenge. The Metatron is letting Satan have Aziraphale to get Crowley and Aziraphale out of the way for Armageddon. There is no real job offer-- it's all Satan tempting Aziraphale into falling. Satan's revenge on Crowley and Aziraphale is to force Crowley to help him take Aziraphale right out from under his nose. That's the start of it, anyway.

Besides Armageddon and daring to have a relationship and a sense of self outside of the demonic collective of Hell what is Satan really pissed at Crowley and Aziraphale about?

His kid. Adam. Crowley and Aziraphale helping Adam against him.

If Satan has been lying in wait, still very, very angry at Crowley and Aziraphale for turning his son against him and if he's now here for revenge, then who else besides Aziraphale is then most in peril here?

Yes, my Job-and-Sitis-paralleling poppet... your big, cross duck and your kids are most imperiled here and S2 showed us that your kids are not just humanity writ large but, specifically, Maggie. The Small Back Room is of the bookshop that is you and Crowley. Maggie is your Adam. Will Satan come after your daughter? It's a concept posed in your paralleling/foreshadowing story earlier in the season... actually, it was also the entire plot of that paralleling story earlier in the season as well...

I feel like not going with Ennon and Keziah's theories on Satan's behavior is probably the best way to form a Good Omens theory 😂 so I'll stick with the idea that Satan very much would dare leave a revenge body count of Crowley and Aziraphale's adopted kids, as the Job minisode proved he'd do even with the spawn of "God's favorite human", let alone anybody else.

As, speaking of foreshadowing lines, this is really even more S2 than it was about S1:

Satan will even have a whole pseudo-philosophical chat about it with you first, amused that he's standing in a place called Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death and ordering a coffee while the plan is likely for this place, the women making him the coffee, and everyone on this street and on most of the planet to be dead by tomorrow.

Maggie is the only character who actually asked for coffee using that exact word in S2.

[sounknownvoid]

Dean saved the world? - show me receipts!

Im sorry but seeing that other post about Charlie thanking dean for saving the world just lit my head on fire!... so instead of hijacking someone else's post, decided to dash off my own...n It also got me thinking - we keep being TOLD that dean is a saviour n saved the world (while being SHOWN his horrible,terrible,abusive behaviours onscreen) repeatedly by other characters incl sam.... but - where'sthe evidence?... here's my quick little rundown - tell me if you can spot dean "saving the world"?... coz I really couldn't...I tried, I promise!

let's look at the world-ending events in the show shall we:

Apocalypse v1.0? - it was sam(swansong) doing the saving - n caused by DEAN breaking 1st seal by selling his soul n the winged rat actively being a co-conspirator n manipulator

Godstiel (apocalypse2.0?) - sam again (remember him stabbing him to stop him while sam could barely stand?) - oh yeh n that was caused by asstiel too

Leviathans (apocalypse 3?) - its borax & black goo spatter into purgatory - & also caused by asstiel n sam n dean had to stand him up

Metatron & Angel fall at end of s8? - oh yeah, ALSO caused by asstiel and dean's emotional abuse pushing sam to "atone" - apocalypse 4?

Gadreel&metatron n angels war - caused by DEAN, casstiel n oh yeah deano going off n getting moc rather than face consequences of his facilitating a rape on his little brother.... n only ended by those entities' own self destructive tendencies (gadreel) & Naomi ..apocalypse 5?

Demon dean n moc-dean - dean's dumbassery caused it n sam ended 1xapocalyose (apocalypse 5) by agreeing to die at dean's hand n having dean banished as there was no cure -

BUT last minute there WAS a cure ( thanks to SAM working away n recruiting people to work on one despite all being against him) n dean was freed from the moc,saving the world - yet again...

Apocalypse 6 aka the darkness - n yes here sam indeed started another apocalypse when he released the darkness to save dean - copyright winchester-brother stupidity and also because through s7-9 dean has been berating sam relentlessly n needs sam to prove how much he truly "wurves dean" lbr... sam obliged unknowingly n released the darkness

n in alpha/omega n soul bomb holder dean DID TRY to save the world - but ACTUALLY wasn't necessary (& remember how throughout the season, he "couldn't kill the darkness") n basically returned as is...but uh with his mom...so pretty useless in terms of world-saving tbh imo...

Bmol - sam saved...the USA - not necessarily the world - as they still exist in the UK still at end of that season...

S13 - "oh look, we're running out of ideas,let's recycle: lucifer is out again" - casstiels fault n yes, dean makes another dumb deal and its SAM that hands him the blade to kill lucifer in that laughable cringey "battle royale" n then he promptly becomes the cause of yet another apocalypse as Michael!dean

S13-S14 - jack n chuck villain-arc - jack being born is not a world-ender in n of itself but it's sam that advocates for raising the all-powerful nephilim, Jack, with some decent values - batterred-wife though he is, by this stage.... but can we just agree that jack wasn't posing any threats to the world until he became soul-less n even then he's overcome with guilt n runs away n then is remorsefulonce hes got soul back? ... so no world-ending here..... until dean's stupidity (lets put jack in a box!) once again meant a powerful force aka jack here, was angry n unleashed upon the world - & then who went n got chuck to create a god-killer gun although, still no crushing the world agenda from jack still? - yeah u-know-who .... n who's so outta control that he wants to use jack as a soul-bomb to destroy God aka chuck - which IS a world-emding event potentially? - yep that'd be dumbass-dean...n who talks him off that ledge n saves the world potentially from THAT maybe-apocalypse? - that's right it's SAM!.... & who shot God/chuck? - SAM!...

S15 - chuck as final villain - who noticed n came up with the plan to have jack absorb chucks powers n effectively install a new god?? - SAM! ....

...so, WHEN & WHERE EXACTLY did DEAN 'save the world'?.... I want receipts!...

(no seriously tho, I'm happy to hear examples of dean saving the world for real)

[pippytmi]

kacy + a break-up AU based on this prompt list: "you’re my emergency contact and i’ve been in an accident so you drop everything to come to the hospital"

———————————————————————

The thing no one says about breakups is that they're an utter inconvenience.

Kate tries to rationalize it; she was dating Lucy Tara for twelve months and thirteen days, it's only natural to have established a routine that will take some time to unlearn. So when she wakes up and reaches for a warm body that isn't there, it still takes a while to remember why. And when she makes her morning coffee, maybe sometimes she will pour the creamer that Lucy likes by accident. (By the end of the week, she will have to pour the whole container down the drain). That’s normal too. Mostly.

Lucy’s absence hits the most in the morning, but Kate goes through the motions anyway. Before Lucy she would always take her coffee outside and sit on the balcony to watch the sunrise, so she still does it. Of course now there’s no Lucy wrapped up in a blanket and insistently making her way onto Kate’s lap to sleep while she does it, but. Kate sips from her mug and watches the clouds roll in over the gloomy horizon and pretends nothing has changed.

The drive to work is quiet save for the gentle patter of rain against her windows. Her radio is still set to the station Lucy likes, and Kate hasn’t managed to change it. Baby steps—that’s all it takes. Maybe tomorrow Kate might have the courage to switch it back to her own.

And when everything at home is too loud and simultaneously too empty, there’s work. Kate gets to her desk and finds a mountain of files with new assignments, and she welcomes them with open arms; her work has always been separate from Lucy, and it's the one constant she doesn't need to readjust to.

For a blissful hour and a half, Kate is in her own world. She argues with a client about what confidentiality means (and what it doesn't). She reschedules the deposition of a plaintiff on a particularly high-profile case because opposing counsel has accidentally double-booked. She creates an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of her new cases but organizes the clients by market value. 

By all accounts, her morning is shaping up considerably. That is, until her cell phone starts buzzing.

She ignores the first call from the unknown number flashing on the screen. Instead, she gets coffee from the awful machine in the break room. The second call comes thirty minutes later, and Kate ignores it again, spends her time politely explaining how to use the fax machine to her confused new paralegal.

When her phone rings a third time—just as Kate has gotten out of a grueling meeting with the senior attorneys which should've been an email—she answers it solely for peace of mind: “This is Kate.”

There's a brief shuffle on the other end. “Hi, I'm calling from St. Joseph Hospital for a Katherine Whistler?”

“Speaking,” Kate says curtly, prepared to give a spiel about how she won't donate at this time when the caller continues,

“Oh—good morning.” More shuffling. “Is this a good time? I have a sensitive matter to discuss.”

Kate frowns even if the person on the other line can't see it. “Yes, it's fine,” she says, and watches as her work phone lights up with another call that she will just have to return later. 

“I'm calling on behalf of a patient: Lucy Tara. She has you listed as her emergency contact. She is unresponsive and we were wondering if you could come in to discuss the particulars of her care…”

The rest of the call is static. Kate almost drops her phone entirely, only grasping onto select words like they're a lifeline. Lucy is alive. Lucy is hurt. Lucy was found unconscious. Lucy has yet to wake up. Lucy is alive.

Kate doesn't even tell anyone she's leaving; she just goes. Later, senior attorney Michael Curtis will tell Kate that she looked extremely pale and sickly when rushing out of the office, but Kate will only remember a vague blur from that phone call to actually arriving at the hospital. It might be the most reckless thing she’s ever done, come to think of it.

Dr. Carla Chase is the physician assigned to Lucy’s care, and she takes one look at Kate and blinks as if surprised to see her. “Forget an umbrella?”

“I'm sorry?” Kate says, heart caught dangerously high in her throat. She's literally choking on worry—Dr. Chase’s words don't sink in until she takes a step forward and realizes she is currently dripping all over the linoleum floor.

Dr. Chase gives her a small, sympathetic smile. “Let me ease your mind,” she says. “Ms. Tara woke up. Our timeline is good, she was not unconscious for long. Has a concussion and a nasty bump, but she's going to be just fine.”

Kate breathes. “Oh,” she says shakily, and embarrassingly, hot tears spring to her eyes at the confirmation. “That's…great. Thank you.”

“You can come inside, see her. I'll go find you a towel.” Even though Kate is a sopping mess, Dr. Chase still pauses to place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze reassuringly.

Even with the worst over, the hardest part is still walking into the room—harder still is watching as Lucy looks up with those wide, curious eyes that become expressionless the instant she sees Kate.

“Kate? What are you doing here?” Lucy asks, voice not quite harsh but definitely not welcoming.

Kate opens her mouth, but is unable to form words. She's too stuck just staring at Lucy: at the bruise that colors the entirety of the swell of her cheek, at the large bandage over her jaw, at the purpling of her black eye. Any relief at knowing that Lucy is awake sinks into horror at the state of Lucy’s injuries.

“Kate,” Lucy repeats, frowning. “Why do you look like someone died?” A beat. “And why are you wet?”

“The—the hospital called me,” Kate manages. “Are you okay? How are you…how are you feeling?”

“I'm fine. I just fell down a stupid mountain.” Lucy smooths down her blanket, twisting the corner between her fingertips the way she does when she's uncomfortable.

“A mountain?”

“It's not as dramatic as it sounds,” Lucy says. “Kai and I were searching for a missing kid and we got separated, and with the rain it was muddy and foggy and…well, you get it.”

“And he left you there? Unconscious?” Kate has met Kai Holman once or twice, and knows very little about him except that just like Lucy, he volunteers for search and rescue missions to escape his normal job. Beyond that, Kate’s opinion of him is quickly going downhill.

“He wasn't there when it happened,” Lucy argues. “I already texted him and explained, but, I told him he didn't have to come see me or anything.” She stops. “So why did you come?”

“Because the hospital called,” Kate says again, which is pretty self-explanatory.

Apparently, Lucy does not feel the same way. “But you didn't have to answer the phone,” she points out. “We’re not together. You could've just said ‘sorry, she’s my ex’ and called it a day.”

Kate stiffens. “You're the one who has me as your emergency contact. It was the…decent thing to do,” she says.

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Okay, congratulations,” she says, “you have done your civic duty of not being an asshole. But I’m alright, so you can go back to deep-sea diving in your pantsuit or whatever you were up to before this.”

“Hold on,” Kate says, a flare of panic overtaking any objection she might have to Lucy’s disdain (which is completely unwarranted, by the way). “How are you getting home?”

“They’ve invented a modern miracle called an Uber, not sure if you heard.” Lucy waves her phone exaggeratedly. “I’ll survive.”

It's an out, and Kate should take it. She should walk out that door and never look back, let all the unsaid issues between them continue to morph and mutate into something ugly and irreversible. But she can’t. 

“I’ll drive you home,” Kate says at last.

Lucy immediately shakes her head. “That’s not necessary,” she says. “Seriously. If you’re that against Ubers, I can call Kai and get him here in two seconds. He’d be more than happy to take me home.”

“That would be unnecessary. I’m already here.”

“And you don’t have to be,” Lucy reiterates, staring Kate down like she expects her to cave.

If it were any other situation, Kate would. She's soaked head to toe from the rain, she has no obligation to be here, and by all accounts either reason would be a rational excuse to extradite herself from this hospital. Especially the former—the chill of her wet clothes is finally beginning to catch up to her, and she blindly brushes back her damp hair while resisting the urge to shiver. It would be the rational decision to go home and change into warm clothes (and explain to her boss why she left without as much as a text explaining why).

But for once in her life, Kate isn't being rational. “I'm not leaving,” she says, crossing her arms in an attempt to look firm. 

Lucy sighs, sagging backwards against her pillow. “Come on, Kate,” she says. “This is awkward enough. I don't need a babysitter after one tiny little fall.”

“Down a mountain,” Kate says, unable to let that fact go. “What do your parents think about this?”

“I…might've not told them. Exactly.” Lucy bites her lip in an obvious effort not to wince. “I asked for the day off when I woke up, so.”

Kate blinks. “You woke up after a traumatic fall,” she says slowly, “and…asked your parents for PTO.”

“I wouldn't call it traumatic. That's such an ugly word. Limiting, even,” Lucy says. “It would've been a total badass move if it hadn't been, you know, raining.”

A knock against the wall announces Dr. Chase’s arrival, who has thankfully brought Kate that towel. “How are we doing?” she asks.

“Ready to get out of here,” Lucy says, sitting up eagerly. “Whenever you say so, doc.”

“Well, I really would recommend a CT scan to be on the safe side,” Dr. Chase says. “But given that you've passed all our cognitive tests and your vision is good, I can consider a discharge…as long as you have someone at home to monitor you today and make sure no further symptoms arise. And no sleeping until your normal bedtime.”

“I’ll be with her,” Kate interjects as she towels off her hair. Lucy looks like she might argue, but her desire to leave must win out, because she doesn't speak up.

“Fantastic. Let me get your discharge paperwork and a prescription for some painkillers—all over the counter. Then we're going to have a serious discussion about what you should and should not do, okay?”

“Got it. Thanks, Dr. Chase,” Lucy says cheerfully, but the instant the doctor leaves, so does her smile. “What was that? You obviously can't stay with me.”

“I know,” Kate says defensively, even if—for a second—she had been completely prepared to. “I'm sure Ernie or Jane can monitor your symptoms just fine.”

“...yeah,” Lucy agrees slowly, as if she had been expecting Kate to argue. Then, “Oh, shit. I actually forgot to tell Jane I'm here.” She frantically opens her phone and starts texting up a flurry, her brow crinkling as she concentrates on her screen, and Kate is brought back to movie nights spent scouring Wikipedia articles and faux-arguing over date night picks and it's…too much.

This is the opposite of unlearning; this is an all too painful reminder that Lucy Tara is no longer in her life. Kate wrings the damp towel between her hands and takes a deep breath to save face. At the very least, Lucy doesn't seem to have caught on to Kate’s internal turmoil, because when she looks up again all the cheerfulness from before is back.

Kate knows in that instant she never wants Lucy to lose that cheer again. “Everything okay?” she asks, aiming for just-polite-enough interest, and Lucy is gracious enough to allow it.

“They found the missing girl,” Lucy says, sagging backwards in obvious relief. “Thank God.” When she smiles, even if it’s down at her phone, Kate nearly tears up all over again.

“That’s great.” Kate clears her throat, places her hands in her (wet) pockets, and tries very hard to act casual. “So is Jane going to stay with you, then?”

“No—she’s the one who found the kid, she has to stay and give the police a statement,” Lucy mutters, biting her lip distractedly as she types out another message. “I’ll see what Ernie’s up to.”

By the time Dr. Chase comes back with discharge paperwork and a spiel about avoiding screens (during which Lucy noticeably peeks at Kate, like she might rat her out), Kate has already resolved herself to zero interference. Obviously it’s not what she wants, but she listens to Dr. Chase and nods along at all the right times while in her head she is already drafting a very long message to Ernie with all the relevant information. Then she drives Lucy home to that bleak apartment that Lucy lives in mostly as a general “fuck you” to her parents, which Kate swears is either haunted or infested by very spirited roaches.

The entire ride there, Lucy doesn’t say anything about the car’s radio being set to her favorite station (and which  Kate would always complain about), which is just as well. Kate isn’t sure how she would’ve explained it.

“This not sleeping thing sucks, I’m honestly dead tired with our without a concussion,” Lucy groans as she exits the vehicle, stretching her arms overhead.

Kate follows her outside, and when Lucy gives her a questioning look, she says, “Ernie’s not here yet, is he? I can at least wait with you until he does.”

“I’m sure I can survive thirty minutes alone, Kate,” Lucy says. “I won’t pass out the instant you walk away or anything.”

“I’d really rather wait,” Kate says, and Lucy sighs.

“Fine. God, I would’ve changed my emergency contact ASAP if I’d known you would be such a stickler for lame hospital rules.” Lucy wraps herself up in a  large black hoodie which Kate recognizes as her own, still muddy from the fall but otherwise intact.

“Why did you?” Kate finds herself asking, mouth three steps ahead of her head, and Lucy pauses outside her apartment door.

“You mean why didn’t I change it? Because I forgot, I wasn’t exactly expecting to land in the hospital.”

“No, why…why did you make me your emergency contact in the first place?” Kate clarifies, her voice strangely quiet even to her own ears.

Lucy methodically unlocks her door, but her hands falter. “Just because,” she says at last. “You know how it is. Anything was better than my parents. Sorry I didn’t…ask you first.”

“Well, I mean,” Kate shrugs, “I didn’t ask you either.”

At that, Lucy whirls around, mouth agape. “You made me your emergency contact?”

Kate hesitates. “Yes? After like six months. It was a practical decision, we spent pretty much all our time together and I assumed…”

Somehow, she’s said the wrong thing, because Lucy’s eyes darken. “Right.” She moves away, digging through her fridge in search of something to drink, and Kate awkwardly leans against the kitchen counter and tries to make sense of what’s going on.

“Did you eat anything today?” Kate attempts to change the subject. “I can make you something before Ernie gets here.”

Lucy takes a gulp of a water bottle and doesn’t respond, just eyes Kate from across the kitchen with a sharp, unyielding glare. Finally, the words seem to burst out: “I wish you weren’t so—fucking—” She shakes her head. “Do you even know how you sound, sometimes? No girl wants to hear that they’re the practical choice. Just once, I wish you’ve would picked me because you wanted me.”

Kate feels her entire body prickle, partly in shock and partly in indignation. “What are you talking about? I did pick you.”

“Did you?” Lucy tilts her head. “”Cause it kind of feels like you picked the idea of me. At least, that’s how Cara tells it.”

“Seriously? Cara? She—” Kate pauses to exhale, swallows back a frustrated sob. “She’s wrong. I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you. Fuck, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” This time, her voice quivers like the sob might escape, and some of the steel in Lucy’s gaze softens.

“Then why did you leave?”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Kate says. “You were pushing me away, Lucy. What was I supposed to think?”

“You should’ve fought harder for me,” Lucy says. “You could have talked to me. Jesus, Kate, I don’t—I can’t have this conversation right now. I’m basically a prisoner in my house, this is the last thing I need.”

Kate’s shoulders fall. “I know,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that either,” Lucy snaps, and she chugs the remainder of her water before she stalks out of the room. “No apologies. Okay?”

“Okay.” Kate waits to see if Lucy will come back to the kitchen, but she doesn’t. Instead, she hears the tell-tale sound of Lucy banging around through her board game drawer, because the chess set Ernie gave her rattles and gives it away. Kate tentatively enters the living room, finds Lucy sorting through a Monopoly box, but doesn’t try to say anything else.

Lucy breaks the silence all on her own, eventually. “I have nothing to cook,” she says. “But I asked Ernie to bring food with him.”

“Alright.” Kate doesn’t sit down because her clothes are still damp, but she does wait by the couch. “Can I help with anything?”

“No.” Lucy is sitting cross-legged on the floor and carefully stacking Monopoly money into piles by color, her muddy hoodie occasionally smearing against the carpet. “I’m fine.” She obviously isn’t; her jaw is clenched, her back stiff, her entire demeanor still a perfect mirror of her anger.

Kate wisely doesn’t push. And when Ernie arrives carrying Thai food and a thick stack of books which Lucy is outwardly horrified at, Kate doesn’t try to stay.

“I’m going to send you the doctor’s discharge instructions,” she tells Ernie instead, as Lucy gingerly pokes through one of the books Ernie has handed off. “Make sure Lucy eats something before she takes her meds.”

“On it, Dr. Whistler,” Ernie says seriously, his voice going low so Lucy can’t hear afterward. “And thanks, for being there. Even if you two aren’t…”

Kate casts one final look at Lucy Tara, bundled up in her clothes and adorably pouting at the prospect of reading all night instead of playing board games, and feels her heart beat so hard it hurts. “Take care of her,” she says, but it’s not a request.

Ernie gives her a small, sad smile. “I will.” 

Lucy doesn’t say goodbye, but she does spare Kate one brief, sorrowful once-over like she wants to. Kate memorizes that look—lets it linger in the back of her mind—and doesn’t cry until the first cheery pop song from Lucy’s favorite station starts playing on the drive home.

She hits the button to turn off the radio altogether, but her finger slips and she accidentally switches stations instead. Kate eases the car to a stop at a red light, watches as rain begins to drizzle once more, and then she makes the executive decision to switch it back.

Baby steps.

[fellthemarvelous]

This is just an idea that keeps rattling around in my head. If anyone else has a unique perspective to add to this, feel free to do so.

Is season three setting us up for Grand Duke of Hell Crowley?

Aziraphale has taken up the position of Supreme Archangel vacated by Gabriel.

And in the first episode we see Beelzebub throwing offers at Crowley just to get their hands on Gabriel (although at that point we don't understand why). Beelzebub even tells him that he can be a Duke of Hell.

It's not a position that Crowley wants, but is that what makes him the right choice for said position?

Heaven and Hell are both equally terrible, but Hell has never been anything other than what it was set up to be. Crowley wants nothing to do with it. He's never played by Hell's rules. It's a place of evil. Crowley doesn't have the capacity for the kind of evil Hell is looking for. He loves humanity just as much as Aziraphale does.

And Aziraphale, for all his misgivings about what Heaven is, is not actually blind to how corrupt it is. He chooses to go back because he is adamant that he can make a difference. He thought he would be able to make that difference with Crowley by his side, but Crowley can never and will never return to Heaven (unless it's to break in and cause problems).

But Hell needs to change as well. Hell is just as desperate as Heaven is to go to war and destroy the Earth and all of humanity.

And if Crowley takes up the mantle of Grand Duke of Hell, that would put him at odds with Aziraphale (and Heaven but we know he doesn't care about that part), but he and Aziraphale have spent the past 6,000 years together and can find a way for Heaven and Hell to meet in the middle and discover their own shades of gray. They have the power to bring about change at the top and the bottom.

Which is probably why the Metatron wanted to separate them in the first place. Together they are incredibly powerful. But the Metatron's greatest achievement at the end of season two might end up being the mistake that causes his downfall during season three.

Because no matter how explosive their break-up was, they still love each other, and they will always find their way back to each other.

And perhaps the systems will remain the same even when all is said and done, but they can shake things up for both sides and make them see that they too have the option of free will. They can have everything the humans have, but they have to see that it's possible.

And the only ones who can show them this path are Aziraphale and Crowley.

But in order for things to change, Crowley and Aziraphale will have to stand on opposite sides before joining together to help save humanity. And maybe they will have a small army of angels and demons who choose to follow them because what Crowley and Aziraphale have is so much more enticing than an eternity of working in miserable conditions and planning another war that involves the destruction of humanity.

And maybe that's how the Ineffable Plan is fulfilled. Maybe Aziraphale and Crowley are the keys to pulling it off. Maybe God and Satan paired them up for their own amusement, but also to see if it was possible for demons and angels to ultimately accept humanity and realize that they actually have the ability to make their own choices as well.

I don't know. I have so many ideas about where season three might take us. I'm not sure how I feel about this one because season two gave us so many possibilities for how this will ultimately end.

That particular moment in 2x1 has me wondering if Crowley will reluctantly agree to become Grand Duke of Hell.

It also doesn't help that Michael Sheen referred to Crowley as the thin dark Duke. I'm way too obsessed with this show.

I just really love my Ineffable Idiot Husbands.

[theres-a-body-here]

Would love a male reader being face fucked by the oni from dbd and then after he cums he pisses down the readers throat. You said nasty lol

The Oni x Male!reader

In the beginning, your relationship with The Oni was strained – to put it mildly.

To be blunt, you two were worse than Laurie and Michael.

Kazan would tunnel you during trials, making sure you were certainly dead before he could even fathom focusing on anything else.

And in return, you did everything in your power to deny him hooks. Flashlight saves, pallets, and plenty of For The People with Buckle Up.

However, as time went on, the dynamic shifted. What had once been hatred began to morph into something resembling rivalry, albeit still laced with animosity. Maybe it was because the both of you are stubborn, prideful, and anger-filled men who refused to give up easily.

Eventually, though neither of you could pinpoint exactly when or why, that simmering antagonism blossomed into an alluring attraction that neither party could ignore nor resist.

It wasn't uncommon for you to be seen sneaking off from the campfire to visit Kazan in his realm. At first it was just to tease him, but that evolved to sitting close to one another in silence.

Again, maybe it was because you two were so alike in temperament that the next jump was so large, because it rapidly switched from taking in each other's presence to full on casual sex. This is pretty impressive considering you can't speak Japanese and he can't speak English.

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

Kazan stood above you, his towering figure casting a shadow upon you as you knelt on the old futon in his home. His erect blue member was right in your face as it twitched in anticipation.

Gently cupping your face in his hand, Kazan pressed the tip of his hardened member against your lips and traced them with it. You took a sniff smelling how hot and musky with sweat his cock was.

"さあ、小さな獲物よ...大きく開いてください。," he said, his voice thick with desire.

You felt your pants tighten at the sound of his voice, even though you didn't understand what he said. "I don't know what you said, but it's making me horny," you confessed, unable to resist pressing a tender kiss onto the slimy crown of his erection.

A low growl escaped from beneath Kazan's mask as he pushed the head of his penis between your eager lips, seeking entrance. You parted your lips to allow him to slip inside, taking the first few inches into your warm mouth.

"いい子..." he cooed softly as he reached down to pat your head affectionately.

Slowly yet surely, Kazan began to slide deeper into your welcoming mouth, the girth of his shaft stretching your throat until you found yourself gagging and choking on its sheer size.

Still, you continued to take him in, determined to not look like an inexperienced virgin

"そうか、お気に入りのものですね。," he murmured approvingly, seemingly pleased by your efforts. He continued to stroke your head lovingly, encouraging you to take even more of his length.

Eventually, Kazan extracted his pulsing cock from your bruised throat, leaving you breathless and craving more.

As he gazed down at you with an intensity that bordered on ferocity, he spoke once again in a low, tender voice, "あなたの顔をファックしてもいいですか？"

Despite not knowing Japanese, there was no mistaking the questioning inflection in his voice.

You decide to take a leap of faith and nod your head. "Yeah....sure," you coughed out as you tried to guess what you agreed to.

Your bold response brought a hint of amusement to Kazan's eyes, hidden behind his Oni mask. Ruffling your hair fondly, he readied himself once more, aligning his rigid cock with your swollen lips.

In one smooth motion, Kazan plunged his monstrous cock deep into your open mouth, feeling it glide effortlessly down your now looser throat.

Before you had time to think about the nature of Kazan's request, he seized hold of either side of your head, effectively pinning you in place. Then, with an animalistic growl, he commenced to roughly thrust his hips forward, driving his cock deep into your helpless throat.

Each brutal thrust left you gasping for air, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggled to keep pace with his unforgiving rhythm.

You wrapped your trembling fingers around Kazan's thick thighs, digging your nails into his skin.

The impact of his heavy balls against your chin grew increasingly violent. With each passing second, he sped up, turning your mouth into nothing more than a fleshlight.

Abruptly ceasing his relentless assault, Kazan held still, burying his cock deep inside your gasping throat. Silver pubes tickled your nostrils as you fought desperately for air. Through strained breaths, he whispered in a low tone ,"とても可愛い男の子 ."

Once more, Kazan resumed his violent pounding, forcing your head back so he could look directly into your glassy eyes. You felt his cock throb against your sore throat walls as it slid in and out of your mouth.

Rivulets of drool and precum trickled down your chin. Amused by your vacant expression, he let out a low chuckle.

Kazan tightened his grip on your skull, his fingers practically sinking into your flesh. Growling deep in his throat, he exclaimed, "すごく激しく射精するよ."

With a few final, powerful thrusts, Kazan drove himself deep inside your eager mouth, holding himself there as he began to release his load. Wave after wave of hot cum flooded your throat as his cock throbbed and twitched with every spurt

Determined to take every last drop, you swallowed as much cum as possible, but it proved too much for your struggling throat. Unable to contain it all, some of the excess semen leaked out of your nose, causing you to splutter and gag.

You manage to swallow most of it as Kazan pulls his cock out, becoming softer. You open your mouth, showing him. Kazan lets out an approving rumble from his chest as he holds your tongue between his pointer finger and thumb to inspect your mouth.

"良い子だよ。これはあなたのご褒美です," he says in a soft low voice.

Cupping your chin gently, he guided the tip of his now flaccid penis back into your mouth, then began to urinate.

Clamping your lips tightly around his member, you drank greedily as he continued to empty his bladder into your mouth. Every swallow sent warmth coursing down your esophagus.

As you drank, Kazan reached down to pat your head affectionately, taking pleasure in watching you consume every last drop of his urine.

Finally, he pulled out of your mouth before tucking his cock away. Sitting down behind you on the futon, he released a contented groan, his body relaxing from the recent exertion.

Pulling you closer, Kazan pressed his masked face against your exposed neck, inhaling deeply as he took in your scent. His calloused hands roamed across your distended stomach, feeling the contents of his seed and urine slosh beneath the surface.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary, Chapter Eight:

pairing: pre-outbreak joel miller x sarah’s teacher!reader

rating: E (18+ only, mild mentions of nerves/anxiety, mostly just cutesy summery fluff, alcohol consumption, shower sex, unprotected piv, these two just don’t stop, do they??)

wc: 4.6k

series masterlist | joel masterlist | playlist

— May 27, 2000 —

The auditorium quickly grew stuffy once everyone began filing in, eager to find good seats for the upcoming 5th grade promotion ceremony. The sweltering and humid air from this summer’s first heat wave snuck in, even with the loud, industrial fans attempting to keep the gymnasium cool by blowing it out.

You stood in the even hotter back room of the auditorium with the school’s entire fifth grade class—about 150 tweens running around, excited for the summer to officially begin. Fanning your face with the ceremony program, you relished in the air hitting the bead of sweat that trickled from your scalp down your neck and throat, your eyes nervously scanning the incoming crowd for your favorite fifth grader and her father, the two cutting it short on time.

Tommy had already arrived, taking his seat in the front row beside both of Joel’s parents. You made sure to go over and quickly greet them as soon as you saw them, Mary giving you a tight squeeze while both of the Miller boys simply offered you a smile.

“Where’s Joel and Sarah?” You turned to Tommy, receiving a chuckle and a shrug in response.

“Runnin’ late like always,” he replied in his signature Texas drawl. “Think Joel got a stain on his shirt when we were at Whataburger and had to go home to change.”

“Well, that’s what he gets for not inviting me out with you guys,” you feigned sass with a smirk, knowing that your obligations here at the school prevented you from attending the gathering even if they’d offered.

“Hey, I think they want us to corral the kids in the back,” John, your overly friendly co-worker and fellow fifth-grade teacher, tapped your elbow and stole you from the conversation.

“Alright.” You nodded at him before turning back to Joel’s family. “Well, I’ll see you guys after the ceremony?

“Yep. Oh, and good luck on your speech, sweetie,” Mary called out and you waved at her in response.

Now, the clock was ticking, the ceremony beginning in less than three minutes. You knew you could postpone it a bit if you wanted, maybe get another five or ten minutes of room for Sarah to show, but you remained hopeful that the Millers would show up before you had to stall. Thankfully, just as the clock hit five, Joel and Sarah came jogging in through the back door.

“There you are,” you whispered as they found you, hugging Sarah quickly before ordering her to find her place in the alphabetically ordered line of students. “Yeah, between Michael and Nessa.”

“Sorry,” Joel whispered as you returned to the front of the line again, leaning in to quickly kiss you on the cheek, his hand resting on the small of your back. You hushed his apology and gave his chin a loving pinch. “M’gonna go find a seat, alright?”

“Tommy saved you a chair up front,” you whispered, pointing towards the front row.

Joel flashed you a smile before rushing off into the now-hushed auditorium, Pomp and Circumstance beginning to play through the shitty speakers. After watching him go, you turned around to greet the line leaders with a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

After a confident nod from the kids, you gave the thumbs-up to John who was waiting further into the room. Soon, the kids started their march up the aisles of metal folding chairs to the beat, smiling and waving at their parents hurrying to try to capture a good picture from the audience.

You hurried to the front of the auditorium to guide the kids into their seats, assuring that they didn’t throw off the entire seating plan, and therefore throw off the entire order of the program. While supervising, your eyes found Joel’s in the audience, his smile content as he watched Sarah walk down the aisle in her polyester cap and gown. You’d never get tired of watching Joel love his daughter the way every little girl deserves to be loved by their father—the way you and so many others wished you were.

With all the kids now seated, you stepped up the stairs at the side stage to join the rest of the fifth grade teachers, principle, and superintendent. When you took a seat to allow the student-body president to come up, make the introductory remarks and recite the Pledge of Allegiance, your eyes found Joel’s again, this time finding him already staring at you. Your friendly smile quickly turned into a grin, forcing you to hide behind your program. The Pledge acted as a distraction from his shit-eating grin that you know was still pointed at you.

“Now, we’d like to invite our fifth-grade teachers up to make some remarks directly to their students.” The principle called you up one by one, leaving you for last. Smiling and shaking her hand, you accepted your place at the podium, the bright stage lights blinding you from most of the audience, but Sarah and Joel’s sweet smiles were bright and clear as you looked into the crowd, finding them looking up at you.

Your once smoothly practiced speech was now stuttered, Joel’s eyes fixed on you making you more nervous than the entire audience combined. You stumbled your way through it before blushing back to your seat and shaking your head at him in the audience, clapping for you.

After a round of speeches from the higher ups at the school, the principle began handing out certificates, the rest of you waiting on the side to shake the child’s hand and allow their parent to take a picture. When Sarah’s name was called, you took a deep breath, trying to keep your tears at bay as you watched this little girl that you’d grown to love like a daughter walk up to you with her certificate in hand. Turning towards the audience, Joel stood near the stage with a disposable camera pressed to his eye.

“Say cheese!” he called and you and Sarah obliged, grinning through your tears as you hugged her to your side. “Beautiful!” he complimented, moving to the side stage to help his daughter down the stairs and walk her back to her chair while you went back to work.

After the ceremony had ended and your obligations ended, you hurried out to the courtyard to find the Miller’s gift table. Joel had Sarah tucked into his side in the shade of a willow tree, a balloon tied to her wrist as she talked to Jessie while Joel talked to Jessie’s mother. You walked up to the table fifteen or so feet away to greet his mother and he flashed you a smile, clearly trying to wrap his conversation up so he could talk to you instead. Just as the conversation seemed to die with Jessie’s mother, Jessie’s father came over and started it back up.

“You look so beautiful in this light, sweetheart!” Mary nearly squealed as she turned to look at you, your face illuminated in the golden summer light paired with the shade of the willow tree. “Let me take your picture.”

“Oh, please,” you chuckled, waving off her compliment as a joke, but then she was reaching for the camera, winding it up before clicking a few different shots of you. The clicking of the camera seemed to catch Joel’s attention, his eyes now unabashedly fixed on you rather than the couple yapping his ear off.

“Excuse me,” Joel excused himself from the conversation and let Sarah go run off with Jessie, much to her delight, his eyes and smile fixed on you as you talked to his mother like you were old friends.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a smile, keeping your feelings tamed around his parents. Joel, however, didn’t seem to care. Slipping his arm around your waist, he placed a soft but sweet kiss on your lips.

“Hey,” he greeted back finally.

“We’re at an elementary school, Joel, must you feel up your girlfriend in front of everybody?” Joel’s father, Paul, spoke, effectively scaring you off of any more PDA. Joel gave you a frown and attempted to pull you back into his side, but you shook your head. Joel nodded and allowed you to go off to deliver cards to the rest of your student’s tables while he dealt with his father.

“She’s intimidated by you already, pop, you know that.” Joel scolded his father with a hand perched on his hip, the older man shrugging in indifference.

“That ain’t my fault,” he argued, earning a scoff from his eldest son.

“He’s just extra grumpy ‘cause it’s hot out today,” Mary interjected into the conversation, apologizing on her husband’s behalf.

“Dad, when can we go home for the party?” Sarah came running up to her father, the remnants of a popsicle turning her lips red.

“Whenever you want,” he replied, his eyes scanning the courtyard for you, finding you talking with John, a look of pure discomfort on your face. “Hey, remember how we worked on aim last week?” Joel grabbed the soccer ball beneath his daughter’s feet and held it up, pointing at you and the man clearly bugging you. “Think you got it? Don’t wanna hit the wrong person now.”

“Oh, I got it,” Sarah grinned and lined herself up for the kick, using all the confidence and skill Joel had instilled in her over the years, and went for it.

The ball cut through the courtyard like a bullet, hitting John square in the ass. Joel had to hide his glee over not only his daughter’s amazing shot, but John’s whining. You locked eyes with him from across the yard and gave him a playful head shake before excusing yourself and coming back over.

“You two—“ You pointed at Joel and Sarah, the duo snickering like children when you approached them. “Could have hit me, or somebody else—“

“But I didn’t…because I’m amazing,” Sarah countered, and you couldn’t find it in you to disagree.

“You think that got the message across?” Joel asked, nudging his chin to gesture behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see John pouting and staring back at the two of you.

“I don’t know, he’s persistent.” You turned back to Joel and gave him a smile while Sarah snuck back off to find her best friend. “Why? You jealous, Miller?”

“Very,” he admitted freely, reaching for your hand and using it to pull you against his chest. “Don’t wanna lose you to Matthew McConaughey.”

“You’re not going to lose me to anyone. I’m perfectly happy right here with Joel Miller.” Joel’s smile spread so wide that his dimples made a rare appearance, his eyes crinkling as he leaned in to kiss you. Allowing him a subtle peck, you held him back to prevent him from getting too handsy with you. “How about we leave? Start the real party at your place where I can kiss you freely without my bosses staring at me.”

“Yeah,” he nodded and pulled away from you in a show of strength, walking over to the gift table. Joel ordered Tommy to help carry the gift bags and cards from Sarah’s friends before collecting his daughter. “Alright, ma, we’ll see you at the house?”

“Yep, but we gotta go swing by ours first and pick up the pies I baked,” she drawled back as her and Paul got up to follow you all out to the parking lot.

You bid the Millers goodbye in the parking lot before heading to your car, having driven to the ceremony on your own. You needed to swing by your place anyways, your dress now much too formal for the laid-back pool party ahead of you tonight.

Quickly hurrying inside, you changed into your favorite and most conservative black one-piece swimsuit and a pair of denim shorts. Next, you threw on a new layer of lotion and sunscreen, touched up your makeup, before finally packing your overnight bag in case you decided to stay over at Joel’s place tonight, which you were already sure you were going to do.

By the time you made it over to his place, Joel was greeting his cousins as they arrived before you with their families. You watched him watch you from the sidewalk, a smirk tugging at your lips as he rushed his cousins into the house so that he could greet you quicker.

“Finally,” he playfully scolded as you met him at the door, his arms wrapping around your waist and giving you a squeeze. “You look beautiful.”

“You’re just sweet on me,” you retorted with a grin.

“Damn right.” His lips pressed against yours deeper than earlier tonight, no one around anymore to scold the two of you for being eager. You hummed against his lips as he held you there, swaying you on his front step for all his neighbors to see as they wandered over for the big party.

“Nice to see you in love,” Mrs. Green, a retired teacher and recent widow that lived across the street, came over and beamed at the two of you as she arrived for the party. Joel let you head inside while he greeted the new guests with friendly smiles, mumbling something about the ladies “embarrassin’” him.

Outside, you found his backyard to be full of people both new and familiar, but mostly new. You awkwardly tucked yourself in the corner as you debated going up to some of his cousins to introduce yourself, but worried that perhaps Joel would want to do that himself, or maybe not at all. It had only been two and a half months since you started seeing each other, after all.

“What the hell are you doin’ hidin’ over here?” Tommy found you and laughed, shaking his head at you before pointing across the pool at the coolers. “Go get yourself something to drink and have fun. Us Millers are simple people, it ain’t gonna be hard to win us over.”

You chuckled and followed his advice, weaving your way through the packed backyard to the coolers to grab yourself a beer, the crispness of a good, icy Corona making your mouth water.

“Knew I’d find you by the booze,” Joel wrapped his arms around your waist as you lifted a beer out of the ice. You turned in his arms and held the beer out for him.

“You got a bottle opener?” Joel nodded and reached into his pocket for his keys, quickly popping the cap off before handing your drink back to you. “Tommy sent me over because he saw how nervous I was.”

“Nervous?” he asked, reaching into the cooler for himself. “What are you nervous about?”

“Meeting your family, I guess,” you shrugged, giving him a shy smile. “Want them to like me.”

“Baby,” he chuckled and tilted his head at you, pulling you into his arms. “You’re the most educated person here, you’re the kindest person here, the funniest, the best lookin’…you don’t have to impress anybody. They gotta impress you.”

You placed a hand on his cheek and looked at him with an adoring smile, too in love with him for your own good.

“Come on, you wanna help me with the grill? Keep me company, put some cheese on some patties, hand out some hot dogs?” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and proudly walked you through the party, introducing you along the way to some of his cousins as they whistled at the two of you. “See?” He leaned in to whisper to you as you stood at the grill together. “You’ve got nothin’ to worry about.”

The party went on well into the evening, Sarah still doing cannonballs into the pool with Jessie while you looked on, acting as a lifeguard. Joel was walking the last of his family out, calling cabs and arranging carpools for the drunk ones. You sat curled up on a patio chair, a dopey, content smile on your face as you watched the girls play mermaids together, reminding you of fond childhood memories of summertime.

“All gone,” Joel husked from behind you as he draped his arms over your shoulders, bending down to press a kiss to your cheek and whisper in you ear. “Think it’s time to get the girls in bed so you and I can go for a swim.”

“Yeah?” you turned, looking up at him with a bright smile. “I think that sounds nice.”

“I’ll break the news.” Joel left you to go squat down by the edge of the pool, both of the girls groaning in unison as he told them that it was well past bedtime. “It’s midnight, baby girl. Y’all can swim more tomorrow.”

Sarah finally gave in, though it wasn’t as though she had much of a choice in the matter. As soon as they wrapped themselves in their towels, both girls yawned and grew sluggish, the workout of their all-night swimming finally hitting them.

Joel walked both girls upstairs and stayed inside the house for a while, no doubt waiting for their snores to sound before coming back out to join you as you waded in the warm water. You didn’t mind the wait, choosing to spend your time floating around, your eyes closing to allow you to relish in the peace of the moment, the warm, nighttime summer breeze prickling your skin as it blew against your wet skin.

“Water bug.” Joel’s voice interrupted your floating, your head springing up to watch him as he stepped into the pool, one hand holding two bottles of beer, the other carrying two shot glosses. “Thought we’d take a celebratory shot seein’ as you made it through the last day of school.”

“That is a cause for celebration,” you agreed, accepting the beer and shot glass from his hands. You followed him over to the edge of the pool, both of you setting your beers down before holding up your glasses of silver tequila. “To Sarah being a middle-schooler.”

Joel winced and held his hand over his heart.

“Too soon, I’m not ready to accept it,” he joked. “How ‘bout…to our first summer together. First of many, that is.”

“Oh yeah? I don’t see a ring in my finger,” you teased, wiggling your ring finger at him playfully.

“Oh, I plan on fixin’ that in due time, baby. Don’t you worry.” He grinned, delighting in the fluster his words caused. “Alright, alright. To us.”

“To us.” You clinked your shot glass against his and tipped the liquor back, only gagging a little as you used your beer to wash the medicinal taste down with a shiver. “Ugh, still hate it.”

“Yeah, that used to be a hell of a lot easier.” He shuddered and took another swig of his beer before reaching for you, pulling you close in the warm water. You wrapped your legs around his waist and held his face in both hands, grinning at him like you were the happiest woman alive. “You’re so beautiful, baby. Right now—“ He shook his head and lifted his hand, his fingers tracing the side of your face. “Can’t stop lookin’ at you like this. So beautiful.”

“Are the girls asleep?” you asked, leaning in to hover your lips over his. Joel nodded, squeezing your hips to pull you closer. Planting a soft, teasing kiss to his lips, you spoke again, whispering against him. “You up for a game of Marco/Polo?”

“I…was thinkin’ we were gonna do somethin’ else, but I guess—“

“Trust me,” you purred, kissing him once more before pulling away, making him chase you. “I think you’ll like the way I play.”

“Oh, will I?” he smirked and watched you as you slowly swam away.

“You’re Marco, I’m Polo. Close your eyes.” Joel obeyed your command with his smile still wide, so playful he almost looked like a kid again. Resting his hands over his eyes for extra measure, Joel gave you a nod to signal he was ready.

“Marco!” he called as you slipped carefully towards the steps.

“Polo!” you called back, and he turned to you, his ears well-trained, it seems.

“Marco!” His smile widened, his feet walking him slowly in your direction as you stepped out of the pool as silent as the breeze warming your skin.

“Polo!” you called back, meeker than before as he neared the steps himself. Hurrying with the plan, you peeled off your bathing suit, keeping it in hand for when he called again.

“Marco…” His voice was now low, his feet padding across the patio to find you under the built-in gazebo where his singular lounge bed sat. You let the wet one piece hit the stone below your feet with a wet slap, Joel’s hands falling from his eyes as he opened them, finding you bare to only him and the moon above, the trees in his backyard shielding you from the Adler’s sight.

“Polo,” you finally replied in a purr. “Guess I lost.”

“Guess so,” he rasped, stepping to you until he was pressing his body into yours, his hands gripping at your hips and waist. “Baby, I want to fuck you out here so bad, but I can’t risk the girl’s sneakin’ out for a swim only to find us here…goin’ at it.” You nodded in understanding, resting your hand on his face as you started to feel embarrassed by your too-bold idea. “But that don’t mean I don’t want to collect my prize, darlin’. Get your towel on and get your beautiful ass upstairs.”

“Oh,” you gasped at the hunger in his eyes, not having seen him so worked up over you since the first time you slept together. The sight thrilled you with excitement.

“Go on,” he grinned, charming as ever. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

Your feet propelled you into obedience, hurrying you into the house with your towel wrapped tightly around your frame, Joel’s eyes on you the entire time. You jogged upstairs and got freshened up a bit, showering off the pool water until you felt and smelled a bit more like you. While giving your legs a quick run-over with your razor, you watched the bathroom door click open, Joel’s form in the foggy glass coming into focus more and more as he walked through the steam. He was stripped down to just his smile when he opened the shower door and stepped in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Here to collect your prize?” you asked teasingly. Joel shook his head and placed a lingering kiss onto your shoulder.

“Just here to be with you,” he replied, soft as ever. “And then afterwards—“

“Knew it,” you chuckled, finishing your half-assed shave job before turning him into the stream of the water. Joel hissed at the temperature and turned it down a bit before soothing into it. You squeezed his body wash into your palm before rubbing it onto his chest, the white suds contrasting with his golden skin. “What were you doing downstairs?”

“Put a frozen pizza in the oven ‘cause I didn’t get any food earlier,” he replied softly, his eyes closed shut as you washed his body, your hands eventually wandering to his half-erect cock to stroke him. “Mm, your hands seem to be payin’ an awful lot of attention to that one specific area.”

“Drawn to it like a moth to a flame,” you replied, half-kidding.

“Baby,” he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. “What do you think about…maybe spending the summer over here?”

“You mean like…move in?” Your eyes studied his thoroughly as you froze. With a nervous nod and equally timid smile, Joel nodded.

“Not…permanently, or anythin’. I know it’s soon, but…I just…I don’t wanna be without you this summer,” he confessed, cupping your cheek. “Wanna be able to wake up with you in my bed every mornin’. And, if you get tired of me, you can go back to your place. Just…I just want to soak up all the time I can before school starts back up and work gets crazy for me again.”

“Okay,” you nodded, your smile growing as you threw caution to the wind. Besides, it wasn’t permanent, and you were already staying over most nights anyways. “I’ll pack a bag tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled, half-convinced he hasn’t heard you right.

“Yeah.” You bit your lip and wrapped your fist around his now fully hardened length, giving it a squeeze at the base. “I need you, Joel.”

“Here or in bed?” he asked, leaning in to kiss your neck.

“Here,” you sighed out a moan as his tongue swiped over your pulse. Joel let out a groan against your skin and nodded, wrapping his arms around your waist and turning you to press your back against the wall. “We can do the extra stuff later,” you panted, gripping his cock and lining it up with your entrance. “I just need to feel you right now.”

Joel groaned again and kept his face buried in your neck as his cock sank deep into your heat, your breath hitching as he stretched you open.

“So good,” you whispered into his ear as you kissed his sideburn, Joel’s head nodding against you earnestly as he withdrew himself and sank back inside. “Love you.”

“Love you,” he husked, lifting his head so that he could rest his forehead against yours. Sounding more desperate than before, he whined against your lips and continued fucking into you fast enough to make his heart pound in his chest, “I love you so much, baby.”

Licking his fingertips, he lowered them to your clit, rubbing over the liquor-heightened nerve endings there like he was on a mission. You bit his shoulder to muffle the sob threatening to erupt from your chest, his body working against yours like it was made just to please you. Perhaps it was.

“I’m so fucking close,” you warned, guiding his lips to yours. Joel moaned, his lips vibrating against yours as he kept at it, just adding the slightest bit more pressure. “Joel, fuck…I’m—fuck.”

“G-od,” he choked on his praise as he felt you cum for him, your walls like a vice grip around his already throbbing cock. “Baby…you want me to cum? Cum inside you? Can I?”

“Yes,” you panted, tightening your leg’s grip around his hip as it rested there, pulling him in deeper. Joel’s moans were wanton, giving your own a run for their money as he fucked into you like some sort of primative creature. You held on tightly to his shoulders as he fucked you into the wall, your feet slipping on the floor from the force of his thrusts, but he was quick to scoop you up and pin you against the tile, your knees folded over his forearms. “Holy fucking shit, Joel!”

He had you spread open, his cock drilling deeper than it ever had before in this new, punishing angle.

“That’s so fuckin’ good,” he praised, his words drawling out. “Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna—god damn—gonna make you mine.”

When he came, his groan was so loud, so primal, that you had to place your hand over his mouth to muffle it, though it nearly hurt you to quiet such a pretty sound. His chest heaved, his golden skin turned red from the exertion and heat of the water.

“Fuck,” he panted as he set you down onto your feet and crowded you against the cool wall of the shower once more, kissing your lips soft and sweet. “I know you’re gonna think I’m just sayin’ shit, but…sex has never felt this good, baby. With anyone.”

“No, I know what you mean. Sex before you was always so…iffy. But with you—“ You held his face in your hands and gave him a dopey grin. “It’s always perfect.”

“God,” he exhaled and shook his head at you, matching your smile. “You sure got me wrapped around your finger, don’t ya?”

“That’s okay, you usually have me wrapped around you in a couple different ways.” Joel gasped at your cheekiness befor laughing.

“I think I’m startin’ to wear off on ya.” You giggled and nodded, leaning into his kiss. “Good.”

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[bloogers-boogers]

Forbidden Power AU. This AU focuses on Michael, it's the end of all Creation, all thanks to Lucifer's Spawn. Michael's final attempt to fix everything is to Disturb their father Only To Discover that his father is dead and has been dead for what looks like years there is still hope his father may be dead but his Authority can still be used... All angels authorities are held in Halos and God is no exception... Michael has a halo So he can go back and fix everything... The issue is the darkness in his heart, his Desire for the First man... Originally he was going to leave Almost everything unchanged...but this is an Opportunity he never did get or never should have had...can he stay on the noble path...ya No Michael has bin the good boy all his Existence and he will continue to be the good boy But he will be so when it comes to Adam and make Adam Exactly how he wants him to be

Hopefully this ask is for me and not mistaken for another blog shsiwbdjiwe do not get me wrong I love the guitarhero ship but I haven't posted anything about them aside from the drawing I made for @/ironbatpaperturtle (and my adamsapple fic) so I have a feeling that maybe this ask wasn't for me 😭

I should tho... like write more of them cause ngl I really like them together but my whole view on those two is far different than @/ironbatpaperturtle's Michael and Adam ahdjendiw

BUT if this anon is for me then I appreciate you for sharing me your au whdjwkdjdwoek 💖 now, with all that said let me proceed on actually answering you.

Omygod. Okay first, I think the God being dead for the longest period is such an interesting concept I read something similar like this before in a fic (adamsapple) called 'the devil you know /by anglotron' so I like it, kinda explains why angels would be put in so much work (do drastic choices) if God isn't there to guide them and solve things for them or just get involved but I also love the concept of him not giving a f*ck shjsiahdwiwbs after Lucifer's fall/betrayal he was just left hopeless for anything; his most "perfect creation" (Adam) corrupted by evil and then his most "perfect angel" turned out to have been the one to bring said corruption. (he may still care for Michael and Jesus tho but like it's hard for him to care about the rest) and letting all his children figure it out themselves (poor Sera), like, I can picture him just as depressed like Lucifer in the show issisofksos but unlike him who copes with making ducks, God just lays in the couch mopping about how disappointed in humanity he is and how "perfect" everything was before he planted the damn apple on earth, while he bosses Michael and maybe Metatron too (tho with him he's a lot more harsher bc he was previously human and he's kinda just bitter about them in general, but he's proven his worth enough) around to bring him shit like ice cream or junk food (tho he could easily just summoned all those things he subconsciously just wants company and Michael is there to bring it to him the only angel that has not yet disappointed/maintain loyal to him). So yeah.

Anyways — I still like the concept of God actually being dead. Like when you say Michael has a halo do you meant like he holds on to God's halo? Cause that's kinda cool af, imagine him just holding on to the halo of God (maybe even pitifully hopeful their father would return 'saving it for him') so he just has the halo on him and everyone just "oh shit this motherfucker really could just end it all if he wanted to" but Michael just doesn't cause 'with great power holds big responsibility' type of mentality and I think it'd be funny if Lucifer confronts heaven and is in a determined search for Michael to provoke him and remind him he's still the most perfect of all God's creation (mosty just salty as hell bc Michael cast him to hell lmao) and then when he finds Michael he like comes up with a taunting comment about how bad heaven turned out to be Yada Yada that neither realm is perfect or better than the other, and BAM suddenly his eyes drifted to Michael's head and recognizes the halo.

"Is that—...!"

"Yeah," Michael simply states defeated in his chair, unfazed by his brother arrival, from all the chaos going on, his people being murder, just, done, "father's gone, Lucifer."

So they just stare at eochother in silence, Lucifer with a stunned almost hurt expression and Michael with a nonchalant one. After the realization hitting him like a truck Lucifer realizes there was no end to the chaos released to all realms after Charlie unintentionally brought it to them if God wasn't there to fix it all...

Fear overwhelming him now cause he was kinda chilled out about the whole thing knowingly God would have to intervene soon because heaven was also being attacked by evil- but now realizing he's dead, it like hits him hard, mostly worried for his daughter's fate more than anything else.

Then, another thing hits him, "wait! What aren't you doing anything?! You can fix this, Michael! You have father's power, we can-"

Michael lifts his hand to signal him to stop, "I'm not planning to do anything."

"WHAT?!! Do you realize your people are also being attacked!"

"Your daughter brought this among ourselves, now, she must find her way to solve it."

"But she won't be-"

"Silence. If she was able to bring it to us then she's more than capable of putting it back. If not, that's no longer my problem"

"YOU-!"

"No, Lucifer," he stands up, the power of God emitting through his aura, the millions of eyes on him, big six graceful wings extended to show their full on glory, eyes bright like the intensity of a star. His voice was much more deeper and cold, distant, detached, "I lost everything because of your silly dream of free will, and now redemption. Look at where it lead us, prove me wrong this time, if it doesn't succeed then it was meant to be that way. Accept your fate.

I would create something new, something different. Something that won't betray its kind. No longer you existing. It will be perfect."

Lucifer felt so tiny now. That was no longer the brother he once knew. Not the caring, gentle, protective fiercely warrior that he once was.

Only filled with rage, grief and pain.

Michael... is dead too.

But anyways with all that, somehow lets say both Charlie and Lucifer mange to remind Michael of his love for the countless souls left at his hands to care and protect. And I dunno maybe a song too ahdhdiqgsjahsia and what gets the cake is Michael seeing Adam alive, behind the two, who somewhat stumble across their intervention in a 'bad timing'.

"Hey bitch you forgot your tampon— oh shit! Wrong room," Adam (now sinner) appears at the door oblivious of the whole deal.

"Adam!" Charlie shouted annoyed as they were already, almost, having a heartfelt moment between her father and Michael.

Michael eyes watered, "ADAM!" He pushes past Charlie and Lucifer who are now just confused as fuck seeing how Michael (filled with new growing hope) crushes Adam in a big hug with all the intensity of his power and somehow it was till so gentle and careful that it didn't kill Adam.

And the first man just there struggling to get loose while also suffocating.

Idk I just like Michael still having to be the hero even in circumstances where he doesn't want to. So the universe just grants him a purpose for he to keep following up God's title for him. If he wasn't gonna do shit because he lost Adam? Then BAM! Sinner Adam is now a thing so keep your ass moving Michael!

Michael now wants to fix things up to keep Adam safe; his new purpose (reason) on protecting heaven, his people and the countless souls God left him in charge with.

[rozugold]

Ok ramble time

Ok imagine you’re Tubbo. You just got your distant brother figure and your bestie off that damn mountain, though not in the most ideal way (I will make those comics eventuallyyy)

But that’s beside the point. You saved your best friend! You did something right for once! Except sike! your best friend hates you now, and you kind of hate him too (you let him know as much) then you guys stop talking. Which is fine, i mean, it’s not like he was your entire world.

You return to Snowchester! It’s a ghost town, obviously. There’s a memorial of you, decorated with fresh flowers and dusty knick knacks. The flowers are from Ranboo, he’s pretty sweet. He’s also been the one to upkeep your town while you were gone. You hang out with them a lot, they’re the only one who sticks around these days. They’re pretty sweet.

You try to go back to doing the things you did before you died. There’s those nukes you never finished making, so you work on them. And you work on them. And you work on them. And you get nothing done. Your brain feels scattered and far away, it’s impossible to focus. So you give it a break, you can afford to. It’s pretty safe these days with Dream gone, you know because you keep tabs on everyone on the server. There’s some strange things going on here and there but nothing too concerning. You hang out with Ranboo more.

Ah fuck, you two find a baby. It’s a piglin, infected but not fully zombified as it has enough thought to run up to you two for help. So you take it back to snowchester and give it potions to stop the infection. Ranboo is worried it won’t work, you tell him it probably won’t. But you reassure him that if it doesn’t, you’ll take it back to the nether to let it “live” out the rest of it’s days. (Do zombies live?) Ranboo spends the night in your attic with the piglin. He’s pretty sweet. Regardless you tell him to not keep his hopes up too high.

Next morning, it worked! You “dub thee Michael!” Ranboo is relieved. There’s a kid living in your house now.

There’s a kid living in his house now. The timeline becomes unclear at this point since I’m still figuring it out. But now that Michael is in the picture Tubbo starts getting worried. He realizes he has no way of protecting him. Maybe the syndicate come visit Snowchester and that shocks him into thinking about the nukes again. And so Tubbo starts throwing himself into projects again. And it starts getting ✨bad ✨

Honestly, It’s been really fun figuring out how Tubbo deteriorates because everything is so internal with him compared to Tommy. It’s obvious with Tommy, you could see him visibly fall apart (think his exile skins, he stops feeding himself, he doesn’t care when he takes damage) But with Tubbo it isn’t so obvious, atleast not right away. Sure his eye bags get darker and he stares off into space for a little too long. But he still looks put together. (Habitable maybe. Or a learned skill.)

Maybe he eventually gets the nukes working but they’re not as successful as he wanted them to be and that guts him. He takes it as another failure. What if he’s just cursed? Is everything he cares about forever doomed to feel like holding water in his hands? What is wrong with him?

I’m gonna share a song and explain this next part using its lyrics because I’m so ILL over it, it’s the most di!tubbo song ever. Throw on …Well, better than the alternative by Will Wood 👍

Tubbo’s feelings towards Michael is complicated… He absolutely loves him to death but he’s really apprehensive about being a dad. He has this fear that he’s going to somehow corrupt Michael and or fail to keep him safe. So he ends up becoming emotionally distant from him and at his worst he gives him up completely to Ranboo.

I think Ranboo and Tubbo get married as a joke at first. But Ranboo continues to love him so unconditionally and honestly and Tubbo catches a crush, which is absolute HELL for him at first sjdhdj. I imagine him being arospec so this crush is a completely new and surprising feeling and he doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t, and keeps playing it as a joke even as their relationship develops.

Also the repeat of “everybody’s up on everybody’s business” is very fitting for describing the server. There’s things to be developed here I just haven’t yet… I’m just thinking about the possibilities like the egg, the syndicate, las nevadas… hmmm

This song is begging to be made into an animatic because I can imagine Tubbo screaming at Tommy during this part. He was just trying to help the best way he could… yet things still end badly, and everyone ends up hurt… di!clingy oh di!clingy, they’re such a mess. A bitter, angry, grieving mess. Wait ok i wasn’t planning on writing grieving there but then my next thought was “who are they grieving?” EACH OTHER. THEY’RE GRIEVING EACH OTHER. o(-(

Ok that’s it. Phew that was a lot of writing. Here’s some drawings for your time

[incorrectly-quoting-murderdrones]

Sky’s Episode 7 Review (now that she’s stopped screaming) ((kinda))

Spoilers under the cut

Never trust interns with anything

Also holy shit the animation has gone from amazing to absolutely jaw-dropping

N desperately clawing at the rocks to get back to V is heartbreaking

The fact that the Disassembly Drones were built to murder humans and not the workers is one hell of a reveal and not something I expected at all.

That’s probably why Nori kept making plans about the murder drones before they even arrived, she kept thinking they were after the drones, not remembering they were there for the humans.

Now that we know Tessa is was nothing but a skin puppet, are there any humans left? Are all of them dead?

ALSO WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THE TESSA SKIN PUPPET?!

I thought maybe it was Cyn just puppeteering the spacesuit and making it seem bloody, but Jesus fucking Christ the skin suit was absolutely disturbing

Thad and Lizzy return!

Khan actually taking initiative? I do love the consistency of him being able to repair Uzi’s rail gun easily.

Also we’re not gonna talk about how Khan KEPT her rail gun?

Please for the love of god give Uzi a break. She really goes through it this episode.

Nori: “Bite me!”

Now we see where Uzi gets it from

N immediately screaming at the V hallucination and Uzi noping the fuck away from the wall of flesh was a great reverse on the usual horror tropes

So we’re just gonna gloss over how Nori is not only alive, but one of the weird little squid drones? If that affects drones with Absolute Solver, maybe Doll isn’t as dead as we think.

Just how much does J know? Is she even aware of Tessa being a puppet?

I love how in the fight between Uzi-Cyn and N, we get a callback to the Knife Dance!

“Nori! The truth is Uzi and I-“ and then he just writes “hang out”. They are really keeping the Nuzi fans in suspense, aren’t they.

“Your backups will forgive me” So there are clones of N? Did Cyn turn only N, J, and V into murder drones and then clone them a bunch?

Uzi drop kicked her own mother. This show is incredible.

N killed Tessa to save Uzi!

Elsie and Michael did an incredible job with the voice acting

Between the knife dance, hand holding, the “Hang out. Just hang out idk lol”, and the “We did NOT discuss being gross and stuff!”, I am getting so many mixed messages about N and Uzi’s relationship

I love that even though Nori’s head was scrambled when she married Khan and had Uzi, she actually thinks that Khan is a hunk in her normal mind.

Bit of a personal theory here, but with the way the show sets up both N and V having a crush on each other, and N and Uzi having a crush on each other, I think the show might actually have eNVUzi be canon rather than just Nuzi, Envy, or Vuzi, which I’d be totally down for

The way Uzi bites at the tentacle just so she can go down with a cool pose made me laugh

N just watched both of the girls he loves sacrifice themselves for him, learned that Tessa was fucking skinned and worn by Cyn like a puppet, learned that he himself has killed not just hundreds of worker drones but thousands of humans too, and is now alone in his quest to stop Cyn from destroying the universe.

He is going to need so much therapy if he survives this

Also AJ Dispirito coming through with another incredible soundtrack!

Nuzi’s theme playing during the “All I know is, I need you.” scene. (I think it’s the same leitmotif that plays during “Falling….for you?”)

Uzi’s theme (Solver Uzi) playing during her sacrifice

The music for the fight between Cyn and N?!?!?! Incredible!?!?!

[nothomegal]

“The little owl family” (Part 4)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond. Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: faint mentions of animal abuse, Mikey being a bit creepy towards (Y/N).

Word Count: 3.4k

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 5) (Part 6)

The aftermath after such intense night went as smooth as it could be. (Y/N) luckily suffered no life threatening injuries and only got some bruises and a broken wrist on their dominant hand, not the most pleasant result but they're grateful to be alive and that (S/N) was alright and safe.

And speaking about the little girl, when she ran out the house her neighbors had already called the police since the begining of the commotion, the poor thing was terryfied when the house went silent and no sounds of struggle came from it. At least now the nightmare ended, right?

Wrong, it was not over. The police was still trying to track down the intruder, aka Michael Myers. But due to the hard rain, the demolition of his old house and overall lack of clues made his discovery nearly impossible. It's honestly impressive how such giant could so easily disappear in the shadows whenever he pleased, and this terrified the siblings to the core.

And about them two, the last three days they've spent somewhere in the big city, staying in a hotel room and basically having this mini vacation, probably the only good thing that came from this mess.

Unfortunatelly, (Y/N) couldn't really keep up with such expenses so they were forced to return home...

. . .

October 31, Halloween night, past midnight.

🎶Cause this is thriller, Thriller night~🎶

🎶And no one's gonna save you from the beast about to strike~🎶

(Y/N) breathlessly cursed at the lyrics and the songs that been playing on the car radio, sure it's spooky night but come on! All of them are talking about something horrible, as some sort of foreshadow. At least (S/N) seemed oblivious and was enjoying her time and the music while wearing her improvised costume. She may haven't trick or treated, but spending this holiday in the big city and visiting the yearly carnival was a great alternative too!

It was already past midnight but the streets still had people, sure most of them were roudy teens just going to or out some party, but it still brought some comfort to (Y/N), in the worst case scenario there will be more witnesses to catch Myers if he dares to come back...

The closer they got to their home, the more anxious they became. Their fear and worry of encountering Myers again was eating them alive, specially when they’re weaker and one of their hands is practically useless due the bandages. Sure, there is some calm in knowing that the police are still methodically scouting the area, but they though exactly the same when visiting his old house, and look at them now…

Speaking of the police, when they were at the end of the street, they noticed some police cars and officers stationed not too far away from their home. The sight caused (Y/N) to go stiff and pale, but at the same time, it ignited the hope that maybe the monster was finally caught and will no longer disturb them…

They park, and (S/N) is already throwing confused and concerned looks at her sibling, who simply shrugs.

—“I’m as confused as you are.”— you admit as you unbuckle the belt. —“Stay near me, okay?”—

—“Okay…”—

As soon as both sibling exit the car, a known officer, who kept a watch on (S/N) while (Y/N) was in the hospital, comes over to them. The mentioned man had a rather calm expression, which only fueled their curiosity of what the cops are doing here.

—“Good night officer, what happened?”— you ask directly.

—“Hiii.”— you sister waves her hand at the man, her other hand being held in yours.

—“Well hello. Not much, apparently some roudy teenagers are causing troubles by throwing firecrackers into people's back yard, specially if there is a dog in it... We had to take actions since one of the animals got hurt."—

—"What!? Wow, what a bunch of uglies!"— the little girl exclaims in anger and disbelief.

—"Oh..."— you nod a bit, the anxiety slowly rising again.

(Y/N) then looks at (S/N), who gazes back at them, her expression now a bit confused at their sudden worried state.

—"Is there something bothering you (L/N)?"— the officer finally asks.

—"Well..."— you lean closer to him ans whisper. —"{Are there any news about Myers?}"—

The man gives them an understanding look and then shakes his head.

—"{No news unfortunatelly... However, the locals haven't reported seeing him and there were no crimes in this area or anywhere near, we suspect that he moved to another location, probably seeking for another victim.}"— he replies, whispering back.

(Y/N) nods, still anxious but also mildly releved by the fact Myers is nowhere around. Maybe the officer is right and he lost interest and moved on, thinking that his job was done and they're no longer alive... But whenever they remember that night, appart from the fear and the rage they felt durning the commotion, their mind also flashes the odd embrace... Why would he, Michael Myers, the embodyment of evil show such gesture to them? Was that mercy? Did he actually spared them?...

Some light nudges and tugs on their sleeve pulled them out of their thoughts. (Y/N) looks down at their sister who's been trying to get their attention for a little while.

—"Can we go home? I need to pee, and I'm sleepy..."—

They blink a couple of times and suddenly remember why they're home and what time it is.

—"Oh sure, I'm so sorry songbird. Let's go and get you ready for bed."— you say softly and give one last glance to the officer. —"And thank you for your service, sir."—

—"No problem. We'll make some extra laps around the neighborhood just in case, so if anything, we'll be around."— he gives a polite nod and goes towards his car.

The two siblings enter their home, it was already clean and had no traces of blood from the night when Michael attacked, even the bullet holes where barely visible! Though non of the siblings bothered to stop and appreciate how well the crime scene was cleaned, both too tired. (S/N) particulaty was so tired after the lond day that as soon as she changed into her pijamas and layed on bed she dozed away, entirely skipping the story reading part.

And when the little one was comfortably tucked in her bed, (Y/N) went to their own room to change, but abruptly stopped in their tracks when they saw their bed. It was unmade and the blanket was wrinkled, as if someone just layed there or rolled around. But it's not the bed's appearance that scared them, it was the smell, a faint musky smell.

But they had no time to play detective because they suddenly heard laughs coming from their backyard. They come closer to the window to see a group of four teens climbing over the fence, one of them holding something in his hands and the other one pointing at the tree hollow, causing the group to laugh even more.

Putting two and two together, (Y/N) quickly realized what these dickheads were about to do. As fast as they could they go downstairs and grab a frying pan on their way to the backyard.

—"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"— you yell the moment you step through the door.

The teens flinches, clearly not expecting a hostile reaction like that. In panic, they throw the already lighted firecrackers wherever and begin to run away, meanwhile (Y/N) makes their way to the little explosives and quickly covers them with the pan. Luckly, these were some cheap firecrackers, which made a bunch of noise but the explosions where weak, so they effortlessly kept the pan in place until the noise seaced.

They let out a sigh of relief when some owl heads carefully peeked out the tree hollow, gazing at them. The birds are fine, the noise haven't stressed them too much, good.

Ones made sure no more teens were around, (Y/N) enters into their home and closes the door. But when they were about to go upstairs, they were faced with the absolute worst scenario possible...

There, at the bottom of the stairscase, was standing the man they were so afraid to meet again, the one everyone reassured they wouldn't see, and he wasn't standing there alone...

—"(Y-(Y/N)..."—

(S/N) peeps in a tiny shaky voice, her eyes filled with tears and her body violenly shaking as the man calmply holds her frame against him, a single large arm wrapped around her as the other one holds the knife, which was dangerously close to her neck.

Everything suddenly stopped... The noises around them, the movements, their own blood and breathing, everything. Now it's just them and this monster, holding the one and only prescious thing they have in this wretched world.

The empty eyes of the mask stare at them intensely, waiting for them to make a movement, which could or could not result in (S/N)'s getting hurt.

They swallow thickly, clutching the fist in their healty hand tightly as they force their body to move. Slowly they lift their hands up, their movements cautious as if they're standing in front of a wild animal... And they're probably are.

—"I-... I don't know what you want... I d-don't know why you returned, but... But p-please, whatever it is, keep my sister away from it."— you start talking, your voice involuntarily coming out shaky and your eyes slowly fill with tears. —"I- I'm not going to try anything funny... I'm not going to run away, if you came back to kill me, fine. But keep (S/N) out of this."—

But their words recieved no other answer but stare, as if waiting for them to say something else. They focus on his body, it was stiff but also oddly relaxed, more than cause harm it seemed like he only wanted to keep (S/N) in place, yet it still didn't make the situation any better, but it did give (Y/N) an idea of what Michael could possibly want.

They felt even more disgust towards the man in front of them, not only he stalked and attacked them, but now has the audacity to invade their house like he owns the place. And the worst part is that they can do absolutely nothing about it, not when their sister is in the grasp of this monster, such a dirty yet efficient move...

—"Are you looking for shelter? If- If so, then go ahed, you can stay as long as you need... I'm not going to contact the authorities, in fact, I am going to leave my phone right here and unplug the house phone to prove it... But only if you promise to let go of (S/N)."—

No response, nothing, only a mild head tilt. (Y/N) grit their teeth, realizing that Michael is not planing to make a move unless they go first, that bastard...

—"Just- Just promise me you'll let go (S/N), make a sound, movement, anything, so I know you listened to my only request."—

The man remains still for a good ammount of seconds, staring at their form, which got progressively more upset and angrier. He'd definitely stay like this to taunt them a little longer, to see their eyes ignite with this rage that awakens an unholy thrill inside of him, but the little sob that came from (S/N) quickly pulled him back to his mildly clear senses. Right, he should't get the little one involved...

So he makes a movement, a single little jerk with his head that resembled a nod.

(Y/N) let's out a breath but their body remain tense. Just like they promised, they cautiously move towards the house phone and unplug it, throwing the cable far to prove that they're serious, then they take out their phone and place it in the counter, next to the house phone. Ones everything was done, they take a couple of steps away, still holding their hands in the air.

—"I did my part... Now do yours, let (S/N) go."—

His head strightens. He looks at (Y/N) for a while and then slowly drags his gaze at their sister. The little girl is looking at him now, her eyes terrified and so desperate to be free, to run into the safety of her sibling's arm, away from the monster, away from him.

He eventually releases her, and without wasting a second she runs into (Y/N)'s arms, hugging them tightly and hiding her face in their clothes.

—"You're okay songbird, I'm here..."— you start to coo to her, doing you best to soothe her stressed state as you hug her tightly and protectively.

Michael just stayed there and contemplated the scene, the way the siblings remained together, doing their best to stay strong for one another was impressive, a bond he never saw in person but he always wanted...

His breath shook when his and (Y/N)'s eyes met again, the cold rage burning inside of them like the flames in hell, a silent promise to kill him if he dares to even think about doing something to their little 'boo'. This was the gaze he's been looking for so long, the one that could almost bring him to his knees and willingly get stabbed by them. He has absolutely no idea what's wrong with him and his meesed up mind, he honestly stopped trying to understand it a long time ago, now all he wanted is to look at (Y/N), and them to look at him.

They look away for a second and slowly raise to their feet, carrying (S/N) in their arms.

—"We'll just go into my room to rest, do whatever you want, take whatever you need, just..."— you hug your sister tighter. —"Keep your distance away from her..."—

As expected, they recieve no answer. The man remains still and only follows them with his gaze as they go up the stairs. While going up, (S/N) peeks over her sibling's shoulder and with enough courage and an angry expression she sticks out her tongue at him. To such gesture, Michael responded with another head tilt but unfortunatelly he didin't see the girl's response his action.

Ones in their room, (Y/N) puts their sister down and closes the door. Just now they realized how shaky their hands and body is, but they still try their best to keep their composture, they must to, for (S/N).

—"Is he... Is he going to just live with us from now?"— the girl anxiously asks as she keeps her hands close to her chest.

(Y/N) exhales with their nose, thinking.

—"I..."— you shake your head and kneel in front of her. —"I'll figure this out. It appears that he only wants to use us as a hiding spot, so as long as we remain quiet and don't try anything funny, he wont hurt us... (Or I hope so...)"— you thought the last part.

The girl only nods, stepping closer to them so she can hug and cuddle up to them.

—"Also what happened? How did he even got to you?"—

—"I heard you yell and cuss outside, and I thought that I could be the meanies that bully animals so I wanted to go help, I even got my scary T-Rex dino-grabber to bite them in the buttcheeks if they dare to hurt the birdies! But... But when I was walking towars the stairs he... He just got me. It's like he appeared out of nowhere!"—

(Y/N) carefuly listens to their sister and gives a quick glance to their room, instinctively seeking for a possible hint of how Myers got into their house and caught (S/N). Their attention fell on their closet, which was wide open. Putting two and two together they realized that he was most likely hiding there... HE WAS HIDING THERE WHEN THEY WERE ABOUT TO CHANGE-!!

Such realization caused their face to morph into a disgusted scowl, they nearly gagged when they understood why their bed smelled different... Ew!

(S/N) noticed the odd faces her sibling was making but has no time to ask when they suddenly stand up and frantically begin to take the covers off their bed, throwing them into the furthest corner with disgust and replacing them with new ones.

Durning this little frenzy of theirs, the girl didn't dare to say a word, either too tired or thinking it's another 'old people' thing. Ones everything was changed, both siblings climbed into bed, (Y/N) hugging their sister closely and keeping her between them and the wall in a protective embrace.

—"...Good night, (Y/N)."— she says, trying to soothe you a bit.

—"Good night, songbird."— you pet her head softly. —"We'll get through this, I promise..."—

—"I know, I believe you."— she smiles and then nuzzles into the covers.

Despite the overall stress, the girl dozed away instantly as soon as she got comfortable. In (Y/N)'s case, it took them a bit longer to close an eye, but the fatigue made itself known and soon they fell into a restless sleep.

. . .

The sleep didn't last too long though, they're not sure how much time passed exactly, but they couldn't sleep anymore... Not with his shadow on them.

They can see it, the dark shape is clearly projected on the wall by the faint moonlight coming from the window, so close that they can almost feel the heat coming from his body on their back, yet he's dead silent like he's not even there. Said inconsistency messed with their mind so much, is he there? Is he not? Is this a dream? A nightmare? Maybe they really died and this is their own personal hell, stuck in a room with a beast and their body being the only protection for their loved one.

Their skin burn due his intense stare, they want to turn around and yell in hopes he goes away, but at the same time they don't want to move, they want to squeeze their eyes shut so hard that they forcefully fall asleep and never wake up to experience another nightmare.

A violent spine chill jolted through them when something brushed through their hair, touching it, feeling it's texture and then slowly moving down along their spine. Does it feel warm? Does it feel cold? They can't even tell, their body too tense, their mind going full survival mode. They must turn around, turn around and face whatever the fuck is going on there, just turn around, turn around goddamnit!

When the touch was past their lower back and was roaming through their hips and thighs, their body finally snapped out from it's stillness, allowing to look back. To their surprise... No one was near the bed, no one who could touch them or cast a shadow, shadow that was now completely gone. They sigh with mild relief, it was nothing, probably some messed up sleep paralisis.

They were about to go to sleep but a flash of white made them freeze. Right next to the doorway, was standing a tall broad figure of a man, still like a statue, his shoulders being the only thing that rised and fell with each deep breath he took. Another spine chill runned through (Y/N)'s body, he's been standing there, watching them and their sister sleep.

That sick fuck.

What does he even want? What is the point? Is he so paranoid about them calling the police? Is this for the sake of his own entertainment? To watch them slowly break and savour the way their sanity slips away? His whole existence feels like a huge taunt to them...

They let out a low frustrated groan, not having any extra energy to deal with this nonsense they slowly turn back and lay down properly, hugging their sister close and replaying their own words in their mind, keeping themselves sane and hopeful...

"I'll figure this out."

"We'll get through this."

"I promise..."

. . .

It's honestly impressive that (Y/N) managed to fall asleep again... Well, the kind of 'waking up numerous times through the night' type of asleep. They instantly search the room with their gaze, and to their relief, no almost 7ft tall murderous man was spotted, not anymore at least.

A soft yawn caught their attention, (S/N) lazily stretches and then hugs her dinosaur plushie back- Wait, plushie...?

—"Uh... (S/N)?"—

—"Mmh?"— she sleepily looks at you.

—"Where did you get that toy?..."— you say, slowly pointing at the purple fluffy Ankylosaurus.

—"Uh? Oh! Waldazar. You gave me it at night silly."— she innocently giggles. —"I was having nightmares, then you nudged me a bit and gave it to me, remember?"—

(S/N) innocent smile fades at the sight of (Y/N)'s confused and pale face. They... They couldn't be the one to give her the toy, they haven't let go of her or left the bed in the whole night, and the toy was in her room goddamnit!...Unless...

They glance at the door.

Unless he did it...

[fromduck]

Mrs. Afton’s Daily Life: THREE

Warnings: Mentions of Child Abuse, William being a bit fucked up ngl, Unedited :')

A/N: Enjoy!

BEEP!! 

HONK!!!

“Watch where you’re going!!” A furious William yells to an elderly driver who almost crashed into him.

The older lady in question only flips him off to which he returns the gesture.

“Crazy old hag, you’re lucky I don’t want to do jail time.” He grumbles to himself, taking out a cigarette to place between his lips. 

It was his lunch break and usually around this time, he would pick up Michael from school. 

But today would be different for he would be picking up both Evan and Michael. 

A smile paints his lips, his baby boy Evan was growing up so fast. It felt like yesterday when he was just barely learning how to walk and now the little boy was going to school. 

He didn’t know whether to feel proud or anxious. Evan was small for his age. Knowing how little brats his age act, they’d probably pick on him. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. 

Unlike Y/N who wouldn’t dare hurt a child no matter how furious she was with the kids who would beat up Michael, William had no issue with harming the nearest brat who threatened his children. 

Sure William had some violent tendencies growing up, but did he grow out of them? Pfft no.

Similar to his son who was starting to get involved in fights, William had been a violent child growing up.

From witnessing both his parents get into violent fights and being on the receptive end of that abuse, William grew up with pent up anger that was quick to flare up. As a small child he would let out that anger onto innocent rodents he would find crawling in his walls at night. His soulless black eyes would observe as his small thin hands strangled the life out of the innocent mice he got his hands on. If his mother caught him again in the act, she would beat him, her own black eyes tearing up.

“Why can’t you be normal?” 

He found that he hated his own eyes when they reminded him of his parents. 

Both held the same blank look that was quick to convert into rage at the drop of a hat. 

His home was a suffocating place that was filled with the threats of violence and anger. His mother was constantly angry with his father for “not providing the lifestyle she deserved.” While his father would argue back that it was her fault for “failing as a woman by being a useless wife.” Then their anger would shift onto him and they’d berate him for ruining their lives. 

Both his parents were high school sweethearts from the countryside of England. 

They’d both come from abusive families that made them both bond over their own personal struggles. 

His mother wanted stability and to be lavished in riches that his father couldn’t provide. 

While his father wanted her love and for her to give him the happy family he’d always wanted. She never wanted children but she’d kept quiet hoping that he’d eventually forget about wanting a child. 

Both teenagers thought that they’d be happy together so they decided to elope to the United States. 

They’d spent all their life savings on the move, their imagination of a perfect life in the States blinding them of the realistic problems. 

Problems quickly arose when they both realized how completely inadequate they were for each other. 

His mother’s resentment to his father grew with each passing day she worked minimum wage jobs, her wish to be taken care of slipping from her fingers.

And her father started to grow irritated with how often she refused to bear him a child. 

There would be times William wished she kept refusing him. For both his parents to be aware of how morally wrong it would be to bring an innocent baby to whatever fucked  arrangement his parents had going on.

But alas, fed up with his persistence for a baby, she caved in begrudgingly. She hoped that if she birthed a child, things would go as they planned. Maybe the baby would look cute?

Something she would remind William constantly that she regretted caving into her father’s wish for a child. 

She hated being pregnant and hated the changes it brought to her body. The birthing process had left her traumatized after many hours of pain and blood loss.

The first time she’d laid eyes on an infant William, she’d only sneered at him.

He wasn’t the blonde baby with the chubby cherub cheeks she wanted. Nine months of torture, sacrificing her body, and hours of agony. 

For this weak looking baby? He was underweight for his age and he remained silent when he took his first breath of air. No piercing wails or exciting emotion evoked from his mother. 

This baby looked dead. She didn’t want such an ugly looking baby.

Poor William had been barely born and his mother had already rejected him. 

His father tried to love him at first. He’d want to have the perfect family all his life. But when his mother was caught in an affair, was when the fights started. 

The earliest memory he recalled was being four years old and watching as his father beat the shit out of his mother. Her screaming cries  

as she begged him to stop were overshadowed by the furious yells of his father. The man had come home from work to see his wife in a lovers embrace with another man. 

William was only watching from the box television when he saw a half naked man run out of the room followed by his father carrying a shotgun. His father had dropped the shotgun in the living room before storming back to his bedroom. There he’d drag his wife by her long black hair as she kicked and screamed. 

When he’d beat her till she was black and blue, he’d gotten up and stood over her body.

He sobbed about why she brought the worst out of him and that she hoped she learned her lesson for being an ungrateful wife.

When he’d turn around to go clean himself of his wife’s blood on his fist, he failed to realize that his shotgun was near his wife’s hands.

Big black eyes that belonged to an innocent William watched as his mother started to shoot at his father. Said man taking cover behind the kitchen counters, screaming about how crazy she was.

The man cried out as he felt a spare bullet nick his leg. Once his mother realized what she did, she started to cry hysterically claiming that she didn’t mean to harm him, only to scare him as a lesson.

They both then screamed at each other until the police had shown up after a neighbor made a complaint. 

His mother plastered on a fake smile and assured them everything was fine. That the bruises on her face were a result of the pet cat playing rowdy again. While she convinced the concerned officers that everything was ok, William’s father cleaned out his wound and any blood that stained the creaky wooden floors.

And William watched it all happen. 

That was his home life. A never ending dance that his parents refused to end no matter how miserable they made each other. 

Not even in school could he be safe because he was bullied for being smaller than the other children. His British accent was also picked on, kids mocking the way he talked because he spoke differently. Everyone and their mothers also knew about his abusive parents, so it was easy to label him as the “weird British kid with issues at home.”

He’d only feel happiness when he’d visit the traveling circus. 

The famous attraction he’d love to see was the dancing bear that was the main attraction. 

There was where his love for entertainment began. He’d remember how the dancing bear would distract him from his miserable home life and he became allured at the idea of bringing that entertainment to those who were like him. Miserable with their day to day lives and in need of a distraction. 

As he grew with those dreams in his head, so did he grow too. The small little boy that he once was grew bigger until he towered over his parents. They’d stopped beating him once they realized he could retaliate against them. 

The bullies at his school that would pick on him cowered at the sight of him. He had cracked the skull of one of them, threatening to go after all of them if they let word get out he did the crime. The kids he grew up with that would bully him now did anything to avoid him. 

If someone said, acted, or even looked at him the wrong way William would beat them mercilessly. Threatening much worse if they were to tell anyone. 

People avoided him at all cost once he revealed his violent tendencies. 

Word got around that the once meek boy became a danger to those who he didn’t like. It was advised for anyone who met him to treat him with caution. 

Something that his parents started to do as they realized how much of a threat he could be to them. 

When he turned eighteen, his parents had kicked him out of the house. Fearing that he would seek revenge against them for abusing him as a child.  

That was when William sought out to build his own replication of the bear he saw many years ago. 

He got into engineering through a mentorship at a car deal. The sleepiness nights learning about mechanics at the school library paid off greatly. 

He absolutely hated working there but knowing it kept him fed and housed in a dingy studio, made him bite his tongue whenever the owner would belittle him. 

Double Majoring in business and engineering, he met his future work partner Henry Emily in a class.

The two were very close at the start of their friendship, they’re work together made them an unstoppable force that would soon create the Freddy Fazbear Franchise. It was a shame they grew apart as the success of Freddy’s skyrocketed. 

While attending college, both young men started to pour all their ideas into making the place of their dreams.

Through gathering enough funds, they were able to create the first two animatronics, Fredbear and Spring Bonnie. FredBear was inspired by the dancing bear at the circus. And Springbonnie was William’s own personal creation. He affectionately dubs Spring Bonnie as his first child much to your annoyance. 

Impressed at the mechanics and advanced technical abilities of the two robots, they were able to convince investors that “FredBear’s Diner” would be a massive hit with all the children of the United States.

And it was.

The first two days, their small diner was filled with many customers. Children crowded around the stage as they watched the two robots sing and interact with the guests. 

Sure the food served wasn’t the best, but he really came for the food anyway? Not when both young men had created something so…revolutionary.

Then the Diner and expanding the Freddy Franchise became a priority in both men’s lives. It was a golden opportunity that they’d be fools to ignore. With that they both dropped out of college and William finally quit his dreadful job at the car dealership. Flipping off his former mentor as he walked out the door. 

There was when both men started to make the Freddy Franchise grow.

Kid restaurants like McDonalds, Burger King, and Chuck E Cheese (he hated all of three of them, especially the last one. Cheap knockoff) were sweating as most of their child customers were swayed by the restaurants made by both William and Henry. Then merchandise and many other products made from them live in the arcades, hell! Freddy’s even had its own cartoon! Money was flowing in and both William and Henry would be recognized as the youngest entrepreneurs to succeed in the country. 

Then William had started his own company, “Afton Robotics.” That quickly became a success as well. 

The life that both his mother and father wanted in America had been achieved by the son they had thought was insignificant. 

He showed them he proved them wrong. 

They both would pester him for money, still in the low economic class. Despite both being divorced, they still were miserable and insufferable people. His mother married the man she cheated with on his father. It wasn’t surprising to learn that she also had issues with him. Like in her previous marriage, she cheated on the poor lad as well. 

His father had turned to drinking to cope with the divorce and spent anything he earned on alcohol. 

Thankfully, none of them had any more children with each other or with other people. 

Thank God.

If they did, William had no qualms of fighting for full custody of any sibling born of those vile people. No little kid deserved to experience what he went through as a child. 

The violence he’d seen growing up 

So when he recalls his family life as a child. 

Never would he lay a hand on any of his precious family, he’d rather die than hurt any of the people he loved most in the world. Even Michael would never experience his violent wrath for he made an oath to himself to never harm his children as his parents did him. 

But anyone besides them? They held no sympathy from the large man.

In his head, everyone and anyone was a threat to his family. 

He’d raised a business from the ground as a college dropout, he’d seen how cruel the world could be.

He’d be damned if anyone hurt them on his watch. 

[stardancerluv]

Petal and the Beast

Summary: You wake up in Michael’s bed after a night of drinking and flirtatious behavior.

Notes/Warnings: 18+ only, adult consensual flirting, drinking (be safe) F goes home with stranger (never do this!) adult language.

Had to write something with Michael from Hoard. There will be a few chapters for him and his F!Reader. How Joe looked in the clip I needed to write something! ❤️s are appreciated…so are reblogs! Feedback is also welcome! Wanna be tagged, just let me know.

*Oh, you’re awake.”

You blinked in the low light of the room. Glancing in the direction of the deep raspy voice, you gasped. You covered your mouth with your hand.

The night came crashing down on you.

You had been stood up. You had been nursing your fourth cocktail when he walked up. His dark curls, the hint of a chain laying against his chest under the black button down.

“What’s a pretty girl like you, leaning against my spot all alone?”

“Who said I was alone?”

He only chuckled, making his cynical mouth curl into a smirk. With a quick motion of his hand and a cold one was placed right in front of him.

He took a swig and brushed his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

“So are ya going to tell me or will I have to start inventing stories?” His tone was brisk, almost bored it made you wonder why he even cares to ask.

You finally relented. You knew you couldn’t win against him. “Set up through friends. He never showed.”

“Fucking loser.”

“Hey, maybe his car broke down.”

He rose an eyebrow. “You’re defending him now, almost five drinks in?”

You pressed your lips together. “Alright, fucking loser.”

The curls on his head bounced as he threw his head back with a hearty laugh. “Knew it.”

The night had crawled on. More drinks had been had, it wasn’t long before you longed to feel him, touch him. You knew he noticed and you welcomed, anything that came from him. You could practically feel yourself grow hungry for it.

At one point, he had grabbed you to stop from being a little wobbly. His large hands certainly knew how hold you in place. They did even a better job when he held you to him to kiss if it could even be considered that. More like devouring between two very hungry people.

“We only kissed. I like when my girls actually respond to me and my touch.”

His voice interrupted, your imagination. You were keen in wanting more to have happened the night before.

He finished towel drying his hair and drew close. You could smell the crisp scent of his soap, it made you tremble and the hunger you felt from last night returned.

“I have to head into work soon sweetheart. You are gonna have to run along.”

“But..but.”

A smirk curled his lips once again.

“Look darling, maybe some other time.”

You reached out and managed to tug on the white tank top he was already wearing. “Please?”

He looked you up down and grabbed your chin, tilting your face so your eyes met his.

“Now if we do, sweetheart. Don’t be catching feelings since I saved you from weaving and wobbling home by your lonesome last night, alright?”

“Yes.” You agreed in a soft voice, defeat in your heart.

“Yes, what?”

Your stomach immediately knotted furiously. You could taste your desire for him.

“Yes, sir.”

He smiled, for the first time since you met him. “That’s my sweet petal. I like the sound of that.” And he let go of your chin. “Now be a good girl and take off my white t-shirt.”