#ok before the boring people start boring off in my tags yes this is a joke and no I don’t think it’s really written for a man

[javelinbk]

Why the slash, John? Why the slash?

John Lennon’s handwritten lyrics to ‘Woman’, 1980

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Working Away

Summary: Your boyfriend is away murdering people and calls in the middle of the night to get some help coming down.

Jason Todd x Reader

1.2k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, masturbating, phone sex,dirty talk, pet names, implied choking, praise.

AN: two things, 1 Im bored, so take this. 2. I can't keep up with the tag lists and soz.

"Come on babygirl, pick up," Jason paces through the loft of his new safe house. This is the longest he's been away from you since you started dating. He wanted to call you when he landed days ago, but things thinged and he just didn't have time between all the killing and patching himself up. Today was mania, he finally found the head of the group he was looking for and it ended in a slaughter.

Its been a few hours now and he can't seem to come down from this high. His blood is pumping, his cock throbbing in his jeans, fuck he just needs to hear your voice. If that's all he can have for the moment he will take it until he can get back to you.

"Good mornin," you whisper into your phone, your voice still full of sleep, "you ok?"

"I'm alive if that's what you mean."

"Kay, goin back to sleep."

"No, wait. Sugar, can you," he hears the rustle of your blankets as you adjust yourself in bed, "can we just talk for a while?"

"Okay, just let me put ya on speaker."

"Are you comfy?"

"Yeah I am now."

"Got all your pillows?"

"Ah, hmm."

"Are you cold without me?" He asks as he slips his pants off and lounges back on the bed, "or are you wearing my shirt?"

"Yeah, but it's losing your smell," you roll over resting your head on his pillow, the scent of his shampoo still lingering, "what did you want to talk about?"

"You. How pretty you are, how much I wanna kiss you, how I wanna lick every inch of your perfect body and how fucking badly I wanna be inside you."

"Blood-lust, daddy?"

"Yes, Sugar. I need you."

The sleep rushes from your body as your pussy starts to ache, slipping your panties to the side you slide your fingers through yourself. "I miss you, it's not the same when I do it. I can't-'' you shiver when your fingertips graze over your clit, "-can't reach all the places your big hands do."

"Tell me what you want me to do." He spits into his hand once, twice, before sliding it down the inches of his hard cock, "I promise to do it when I get home."

"First I want you to kiss me," your hands grasp at your akin, "like that night in the alleyway."

"Mm.. I remember that night, the way you melted under my hands," he closes his eyes, recalling how your eyes watered when his hand slipped around your neck and he thrust you against that wall, "how pretty you looked under that light. Then I picked you up and had you against the wall."

"Yes, Jay. I want you to pick me up," your hand slips further down your body, "then throw me on the bed."

"I'll rip that shirt off you, " His hand pumps faster on his cock, “and anything else that gets in the way of my lips on your skin.”

"Your marks are fading," your hand holds your throat, "I need new ones, daddy."

"I can't wait to give you more. To mark up that soft skin of yours while my fingers are deep inside that pussy."

"So deep, my nails stabbing into your back." You moan as the picture starts to form in your head, your fingers thrusting inside of you, trying so hard to reach that spot that he always finds straight away.

"You sound so wet, Sugar. Fuck, I need to taste you.” he growls as he cock starts to drip on his hand, “What you to taste all this pre that's dripping down my hand right now."

"I love the taste of you.” your tongue darts out, the phantom taste of him in your lips,” Love feeling it drip down my chin and my throat.”

“Fuck, it stretches that pretty mouth so wide, doesn’t it.”

“Makes me feel so full.”

“My favourite is feeling your teeth graze over me.”

“You love that tiny bit of pain.”

"I do, Sugar. We're perfect together. Fuck, I love you." He groans, "I need to cum, you think you can-"

"Me too. I want you so bad. Need to feel you stretch me out," you pant, your back arching off the bed as your fingers attempt to get deeper, "I can't do it on my own, daddy."

"Yes, you can. I need you too." His hand tightens on his cock, the way your pretty pussy always does when he fucks up into you, "you know I can’t until you do. Now be a good girl," he smiles to himself when he hears your breathing pick up, "press your palm into your clit for me and let all those pretty noises out."

"Jay, fuck. Keep going." you imagine him, sitting in his room right on the edge, his hand wrapped around his cock, his eyes shut as he imagines you touching yourself. Sweat falling down his hardened brow as he tries to focus while also trying not to cum.

"You're such a good girl, wishing for me. Yes, let them out, fucking h'll. Like music to my ears, sugar."

"I'm getting close, fuck. I ah- I- Jason."

"You wanna cum for me? You wanna come for daddy?"

"Yes, please, pelase, pelase."

"Then do it, I wanna hear all of it."

Your orgasm cascades over you, days of pent up pleasure exploding all over you at once. Your limbs shake and your mind spins and you can hear Jason's pleas all around you.

“Sugar, I need you. Fuck, can you beg-” he moans, his words choppy as he tries to form a coherent sentence, “beg for it.”

“I need it, please,” your voice still hoarse, “I want it.”

“Do you? Not- Ah, fuck me. -more”

“Please cum for me, daddy. I can’t- please please.”

“Yes, Sugar. You want it, you want it in your mouth?”

“Yes, please, cover me in it.”

“I- Fuck, I’m gunna- I am- fuck, yes, Sug-ahhh.” he screams and you wish you were really there to drink it all down for him. You lick your lips, listening to Jason's incoherent praise as he comes down.

When he lets out a little sigh and you hear the thud of his back hitting the mattress you ask,. "Jay, when are you coming home?"

"I still got a few more days, Sugar."

"Okay," you roll over, snuggling into his pillow. The smell should be comfortable but at the moment it just makes you feel even more alone.

"You still there?"

"Yeah, I just. I need a bundle."

"I will give you all the cuddles when I get home. I promise."

"You better and that's not all I want."

"Tell me and it's yours."

"Everything you promised. Plus 3 days of uninterrupted Sugar time."

"You know I'd do anything for you."

"I know." You pause, shifting the blankets up and shoving a pillow behind your back, "Jay."

"Yes, baby."

"Can you stay on the line until I fall asleep?"

"Want a lullaby?"

"Yes please."

You start to drift off to the soft hums of a slow song, Jason's low baritone seeping into your dreams and keeping you safe until he returns.

[mattyriddlegf]

The Stupid Closet (16)

Happy release day Sunday everyone! I hope you like this one, it is SO cute :)

please comment to be added to the tag list, enjoy!

-----------

Almost two weeks later, it was Friday night and the slytherin house was getting ready for another quidditch match, this time against Ravenclaw.

Halloween is next week and everyone has been buzzing about the party, you had even convinced Mattheo it was worth going to.

You walk to his dorm and open the door only to find it empty. You go down to the common room and see Pansy flirting with Draco on the couch…it never ends.

“Hey have you guys seen Mattheo?” You ask, looking between them.

“I think he was walking outside earlier?” Draco mentions trying to scoot away from Pansy a bit.

While he loved the attention and adoration, Pansy overdid it and always had which put him off.

“Ok” you smile, “Pansy, I heard a first year mention some gossip upstairs if you’re interested”

“Oh really? I’ll go find out.” She instantly takes off.

Draco mouths ‘thank you’ before you blow a kiss and walk out towards the garden, looking for Mattheo.

To no surprise, you find him sitting on that very same bench the two of you had grown to spending a lot of time on. He was drawing in his notebook, listening to music.

You walk up behind him and grab his headphones off his head, putting them over your ears. An older song plays, “what’s this?” 

“The smiths” he mentions casually.

You squint your eyes at him, “you never fail to surprise me.” 

He grabs the headphones back and sets them on the ground next to him, “Hi my love”

“Hi.” You reply as you lean your head on his shoulder and he takes your hand in his.

“How was your day?” Mattheo asks, stroking his thumb along your hand.

“Sooo boring. You?” You lift your head off his shoulder to look at him.

“I thought about you the whole time.” He smirks.

“Quit it.” You giggle, “you’re just trying to get in my pants.”

The two of you had slept together….a lot so far. There was a lot of sexual tension to get out from all of these years at Hogwarts.

“So…there’s a quidditch match tomorrow.” You bring up.

“Yes, and?” He looks you in the eyes.

“Will you go with me?” You ask.

Mattheo clenches his jaw, “no. I can’t.”

You furrow your eyebrows and turn towards him, “what? Why not?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He shuts you down and lets go of your hand, looking out to the garden.

“Mattheo, you can’t just shut me out.” Your frustration grows. You hadn’t pushed him to talk about why he doesn’t play anymore but you wanted to know.

He looks at you, “you wouldn’t get it.”

“Right, like I don’t have things that are hard to talk about.” You start. You and Mattheo still butted heads occasionally, but it was different now.

“That’s not what I meant.” He says coldly as he avoids eye contact.

You grab his chin and make him look you in your eyes, “I’m not leaving until you tell me…”

Mattheo has that dead look in his eyes when you add, “please? For me?” 

He rolls his eyes but decides to tell you, “remember when I disappeared for a bit during 5th year?”

You nod your head, listening.

“I was just named captain when I had to go home. You know who my parents are and that was when Azkaban was broken into and-” he starts rambling.

You take his hand and he realizes he’s rambling. He pauses for a second before continuing, “When I came back, it was halfway through the season and Adrian Pucey replaced me as captain. I tried to focus and earn my way back but my head wasn’t there and I really fucked up. Adrian told me that I was being benched and…I started this fight with him.”

“A fight? Wait…isn’t that when he was in the hospital all winter?”

“He didn’t play for the rest of the season because of it.” He adds. Mattheo knew how to throw punches and he also knew some pretty bad curses to throw at people. “I was kicked off the team and told to never come back.”

He had never been this open with you and you had a feeling that he’s never really told anyone this story before.

“You told people you had gotten bored and quit…” you process.

“Draco, Blaise, and Theo know obviously but nobody else does. They swore to me they threatened the rest of the team to keep quiet.”

“I had no idea…” you trail off. You felt really shitty now, “baby I’m so sorry”

Mattheo looks up to you with his doe eyes before he smiles lightly, “say that again”

“Say what again?” You ask, unaware.

“What did you call me?” He smirks.

“Oh…baby? You like me calling you baby?” You tease as you run your fingers through his hair.

“You’re just so sexy” he says as he wraps you in his arms. You laugh as he buries his head in your chest.

“Matty, I think it’d be good for you to go tomorrow.” You suggest quietly.

He pulls himself off of you, “no fucking way”

“I know it’s a sore subject but I also know that you still love it…and I would be there the whole time with you.” You add.

“No. I can’t.” He rolls his eyes and looks away.

“Matty-” you try to grab his hand before he stands up.

“Just drop it ok?” He looks at you with a clenched jaw.

“Fine.” You get quiet and watch him as he pinches the bridge of his nose. You stand up and walk up behind him, setting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his waist while on your tiptoes.

He turns around in your grasp and returns your hug, “I love you. Please don’t ever leave me.”

“Mattheo, where is this coming from?” You back away, concerned.

“Everything I’ve ever loved has left. Everything. And I know I don’t deserve you.”

Nobody ever got to see this side of Mattheo and clearly you brought it out of him with the talk about the quidditch game.

“I don’t plan on leaving any time soon. Just forget I asked about it, ok? I’m not upset at all” You reply, grazing your hand over his cheek.

“I didn’t-”

“I know what you were thinking. It’s not a big deal, seriously.”

You smile lightly before you back away, “I'm gonna head back and change before dinner. I’ll see you there, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He responds holding your hand as you walk away, finally letting go when you’re out of arm's reach.

You go back to your dorm and change before Pansy comes in and walks down to the great hall with you. 

You all sit at the table, eating when the topic of the match comes up. Draco and Blaise continue to talk about how well practices have been going and how they planned to dig Ravenclaw’s grave. Typically Theo participated in these discussions too but he had been skipping dinner to avoid you and Mattheo.

“Mattheo, we switched Harper to chaser like you suggested. I think she’s settling in nicely.” Draco pipes up.

His eyes gaze over towards you for a split second but he doesn’t let his persona falter.

“Good. I’m sure she’ll do fine.” He responds quickly, trying to not drag on the subject.

You watched how his eyes found their way down to his plate. How he messed with his food instead of eating it. How his jaw clenched just slightly, just enough for you to notice but nobody else.

The more you got to know him, the more you were so impressed by him. Not even you got to see his emotional side often which meant he held it all in. All to himself. You were amazed.

You watched him eat his food, trying to ignore the talk around him. You noticed his long eyelashes as he blinked and the scar on his eyebrow. 

You felt mesmerized by him. You felt…in love with him. You were in love with Mattheo Riddle. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest.

“You ok?” You snap back to reality hearing Draco ask you.

You gather yourself before responding, “I’m fine”. Your gaze finds its way back to Mattheo, him now looking at you.

You were so screwed.

taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @princessluvssleep @hatakemrs @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss @schaebickel @swamp-box @iamdnb

[ravenn-darkholme]

Permanent Price chapter 1

Alex Summers x Mutant!OC

Summary: Isabella Darkholme, sister of raven Darkholme and Charles Xavier. Also a mutant. Her mutation allows her to blend in with the light rays, turning herself and whatever she's touching invisible. word count: 1280 warnings: none that I know of

series masterlist

Isabella couldn't help but sigh softly as she watched her brother talk up another girl, not because she was jealous, but because she was bored of the same thing every time. She and raven always just sat back and watched him. Bella tried to talk to people - boys and girls - but Charles would always step in and pull her out. It was like he didn't want her to be happy. But she knew he was just caring for her and making sure she didn't get hurt, even though she was never able to even ask the person's name, that's how fast he was.

Raven could see the bored look on her sister's face so she thought she would distract her.

"Wanna' play truth or dare?" She asked making Bella smile. Raven was always the child. She loved playing games, whether it was board games or hide and seek. She just loved being a child. Especially playing tag or just chasing her other half around with a spider. Isabella loved that about her sister though, she never lost her sparkle.

"Sure." she dimly said.

"Okay, truth or dare?"

"dare." Belle loved playing this with raven, no matter how old they were she loved it.

"mmhm, okay. I dare you to go behind the bar and mess around with the bartender."

"ok, but I dare you to mess up Charles's date with that girl." She said with a smirk.

"That's not how the game works but fine."

Bella moved to the bathroom and turned herself invisible, whilst raven went over to Charles and the girl he was with to introduce herself. Bella went behind the bar and started tricking the man tending to a customer. She knew she had a limited amount of time before Charles would find her out so she knew to make it count. She created a tapping noise on a glass behind his ear to start with. He instantly turned around and walked through her. Thankfully she could not only turn herself invisible but anything she touched, she also could phase through objects and people when she was invisible.

Then she started whispering near his ear. Watching him freak out was hilarious to raven. This was not the first time pulling pranks like this. They really were children at heart and Bella loved it. Charles turned to look over at raven and Isabella's table. He saw raven smirking and looking to a specific spot behind the bar. He then looked over to the table raven was sitting at and saw that Bella wasn't there. That's when he knew they were pulling their little pranks again and decided to step in. He excused himself and walked near the back of the bar where he assumed Bella was.

Isabella, are you behind the bar again?

shit.

no. Why would you think that Charles?

because I see raven smirking and you aren't anywhere near her table. She is also looking at a very specific spot where there isn't anything to laugh at. I also know my sisters very well.

Bella sighed and walked to where Charles was and made herself visible again.

"Right. Get raven we are going." He said sternly.

"Look I'm sorry. We just wanted a bit of fun." She said softly before going to get raven.

"Yes, well you can have fun in different ways. There was no need to expose your mutation like that. What if you couldn't hold on long enough and someone saw you turn visible? what then?" He was clearly disappointed in them but she didn't care anymore. He wasn't the owner of them they could do what they wanted.

"He's mad at us again." She said to raven before walking back off to Charles and out the door.

"Don't talk to me. You did that on purpose." He said angrily once raven caught up with them.

"I did not! Why would I do it on purpose? We were just playing a game!"

"Yes, you did!"

"And you, that little stunt you pulled-"

"You know I can't control it sometimes if I'm stressed or tired."

"You seem to be doing a perfectly good job right now.-

"Mutant and proud." Raven started, imitating the girl Charles was with.

"What? Or is it only with pretty mutations or invisible ones like yours and Belle's? But if you're a freak, you better hide." Bella knew raven hated her mutation at times. Though bella thought it was a beautiful one, Raven never thought of it that way. Any time Isabella tried to tell raven she would just storm off and wouldn't talk to her for a whole day. She grabbed her sister's hand and squeezed it to comfort her.

"You're being ridiculous. I don't mean to sound like an old fart." -"Which you are."- "Sometimes. But we've talked about this, Raven. A small slip-up is one thing. A big one does not bear thinking about."

"Mutant and proud? If only." Raven said walking off and dragging her sister with her

That night, when they got home Belle went straight to her room without saying goodnight. She was sick of Charles deciding what she was able to do. She knew he was only caring for her but sometimes it got out of hand. She'd never had a boyfriend - or girlfriend, not like that was hardly allowed - or even her first kiss! And she was done. She wasn't going to let Charles dictate what she did. It was her life and she was going to live it.

⋆✩⋆

Raven and Isabella sat quietly in Belles's bedroom, surrounded by silence. The air was thick with emotion as they both struggled to find the right words to express their feelings. They did this now and then. Sat together talking about their mother, childhood, or just in silence.

Finally, Raven broke the silence. "Do you ever feel like she's still here with us? Like she's watching over us?"

Isabella nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "All the time. Sometimes I'll be doing something, and I'll feel this presence like she's right there beside me."

Raven reached out and took her sister's hand. "It's funny, isn't it? How we can feel her presence so strongly, even though she's been gone for so long."

Belle sniffled and wiped away a tear. "I miss her so much. Sometimes I feel like I can't go on without her."

Raven squeezed her hand gently. "I know. But we have each other, we have Charles, and we have her memory. She may not be physically here, but she lives on in us, in our memories, and in the love she gave us."

Isabella looked up at Raven, her eyes brimming with gratitude. Raven smiled sadly.

"I wish I could take away the pain, but all I can do is be here for you, and honor her memory by living the best life we can."

Isabella nodded, a sense of peace washing over her. "You're right. She wouldn't want us to wallow in sadness. She'd want us to be happy and live our lives to the fullest. And NOT hiding or being scared of our mutation." She stated to her sister, sternly.

Their mother always made sure they were proud of their mutation. And she promised them that one day they wouldn't have to hide it.

Raven stood up and pulled Isabella into a tight hug. "That's right. And we will. Together."

authors note

italic is charles and belle speaking in their minds :)

this is a book that is on my wattpad gravity-barbie and all chapters are released on there rn!

dont forget to vote && comment !

[jeonscatalyst]

Can we talk about Jikook spending multiple holidays together by choice. White Day, Silver Day, Valentines, Chuseok. However you view their relationship, they enjoy spending these days together for years over others, including bdays & that speaks volumes.

Now, Lets talk about how Jikook scheduled their Jeju trip during Chuseok, originally meant for the 2 of them. Jk already memorizing recipes saying Jimin will love this while in NY, to fix on their Jeju trip. I can see why they were annoyed with their "guest who insisted & only found out through group chat two days before". Not only did JK have to go straight from NY to Jeju, which he probably thought he'd be spending alone with Jimin after being away on promotions, he had to deal with an unexpected guest. Since JK was busy in NY, I'm guessing Tae insisted to Jimin & Jimin talked to JK about him coming. I can see why Jk was annoyed with them both esp Jimin, bucking up at him over nothing & locking him out the house lol. Also, Jikook's suitcases were bigger then Tae's & the phone call with JK's mom asking about Jimin & asking if Jk is coming home for the holidays, kinda paints a picture. Jikook wanted to spend the holiday together, planned this trip around Chuseok, just the two of them in Jeju & were probably gonna head home to Busan to see their families after. I know they love Tae & had fun with him, but its clear this was a holiday vacation planned for ONLY 2 from the start. I don't want to say what Tae did was selfish, but he clearly didn't read the room beforehand. Maybe he will next time.

Hi anon,

Jimin and Jungkook choosing to spend many special days together over the years is and has always been one of my favourite things about them. I love how those two value (d) spending certain moments together and that was pretty consistent for so many years. It was always one of the things that always set them apart from the rest of the members in my opinion and one of the things that showed how deep their bond and friendship is. Like you said, it speaks volumes.

You may not like this but I am not one of the people who believes that Jungkook was annoyed about Tae joining them in Jeju. I didn’t see anything about his or Jimin’s behaviour or demeanor that gave me that impression if anything, I thought Jk was indifferent about it. I don’t think he had an issue with Tae being there. Some people mentioned sensing some annoyance from him towards Tae but I honestly didn’t, was he sometimes bratty, sure but not annoyed. Yes the trip was originally planned for Jimin and Jungkook but if those two didn’t want Tae there he wouldn’t have been there. These guys have known each other for over a decade and Vminkook are really close so I don’t think Jimin and Jungkook wouldn’t have been able to tell him no, if they didn’t want him there and Tae could be a little clueless sometimes but I don’t think he would have insisted to tag along if he felt like Jikook didn’t want him there. Maybe to Jimin and Jungkook, it just felt like ��the more the merrier” and even though they teased Tae alot about him being a guest and joked about how the show was meant only for two, I don’t think they would have had a problem if other members wanted to join too.

Jimin and Jungkook may have loved to spend time together alone but that doesn’t mean they cared too much if they had some company at certain times, so let’s allow Tae some grace ok. I loved that he was there because they all seemed to have a really great time with him especially on the first day. I felt like he was a little off on the other days but maybe it was because he wasn’t feeling too fine or probably had other stuff on his mind or maybe he was just bored when they weren’t actively runninf around plus, him being there also aided in showing us how different Jikook is from Taekook. I don’t know about u but Tae being there validated my thoughts Jikook’s and taekook’s dynamic and how obviously different they are. I made a post a few months ago about their dynamics and I got tkkrs fuming in my inbox so when I watched AYS and saw all my words come to life it felt good to know I had a very great understanding of the boys. Jk’s little snarky remarks and pissy attitude is just Jk. I feel like sometimes we forget about the fact that even though Jk is the most amazing little bean he could be a brat sometimes and he knows how to work his hyungs nerves. He had his bratty moments with Tae but I don’t think that had anything to do with him not wanting Tae there. He was also very welcoming and him and Jimin tried not to make sure Tae didn’t feel left out so I guess they actually loved having him around.

Maybe Jikook’s suitcases were bigger because they planned to go to Busan after or maybe they just packed more than Tae did. Who knows?

[rotten-pomegranate]

Day four : pet play with yandere shalnark

Tags: @shalscumbunny @aliceattheart @my-eyelash-flew-off

Warnings: but plug tail, pet play, yandere, threats, abuse, mentions of animal abuse, butt plug

/|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\

You suppose this wasn’t that far off from how he treated you anyway, like a pet, and who are you kidding you where a pet

He fed you, made you sleep on the floor next to him, had you fallow him around all day the only difference is that only deeply disturbed people use there pets like sex toys

He’s always ordering blowjobs while he’s at his desk working or playing games, making you ride him while he just lays back to watch, now however your all dressed up like a pet too, cute little ears on the top of your head and the dreadful tail butt plug stuck in your ass

“Your so cute, I don’t know what your being so pouty about” he gives the tail a yank to emphasize his point

“Ow, this is embarrassing, I don’t wanna do this” you can’t make eye contact with him

You had trouble with it normally but now? Oh now you might just die if you looked him in the eye

“Well that’s to bad isn’t in, why don’t you come over here” when you start to walk over he stops you “cats don’t walk on two legs do they?”

Humiliate must be one of his favourite things to do to you because he sure did it often

You sink to your knees to start crawling over to where he sat on the couch

“That’s good!, see your learning” when you get there he pulls you up into his lap with ease

“Your so cute, I could just squish you” he would to, his hands go down to fondle you breasts and pussy faster then ever

He lightly squeezes your clit between to finger at the same time pinching your nipple, god that feels awful

He wraps both hands around your waist to push you further into him and grinds his dick agains you

You felt so vulnerable with him fully clothed and you in nothing but ears and a tail but when he took off his shirt you felt even more vulnerable

“Open up” you open your mouth and he shoves his fingers down you throat

“This’ll make it hurt less when I put them in you, so suck them good” the first time he took you he told you this and you didn’t listen, you don’t wanna feel that again, his dry finger scrapping against your insides forcing moisture out

So, you suck on his fingers like your life depends on it, and you can feel his dick twitch under you every time you roll your tongue around them

“That’s enough” he roughly yanks them out and and lifts you up by the waist for easy access to you pussy

When he sticks his fingers in it hurts but not as much as you know it will in a minute

He pumps his fingers in and out of you for a few minutes before he gets bored

“ I think you ready now” your definitely not but putting up an argument will only hurt you more

He pulls his fingers out and tosses you on the couch so he get undressed

“Just lay back and let me have my fun” his pants drop, you can see his dick poking out more clearly now

“Ok” shit, that not what you where supposed to say, maybe he won’t notice “what was that?” He noticed

“Yes master” no matter how humiliating it was his punishments where always more humiliating them anything

When he gets on top of you he doesn’t wait to push his cock in you

“Ahh, your still so tight” well of course, he didn’t prep you right, he starts moving slowing, that’s how he always started, slow and steady to preserve the warmth your pussy offered

“Roll your hips with me” so much for just laying back, when you start you feel him speeding up

“Yes just like that, your so good” his hand went to hold the back of your neck, a place he loved to have his hand, a place that gave him power over you

His pace kept getting faster as he got closer to release, it started hurting less but not so little that you would be able to cum

“Ahh I’m almost there, your being so good” you close you to eye when the one hand he has on you hip gets tight to a point he’s just squeezing loose skin

“Ah-ahh, shal, your hurting m-me” his grip only got tighter “I’m not gonna respond to that name y/n”

“I’m sorry master, ow, your squeezing me to tight” he doesn’t stop, of course he doesn’t

“Just a bit longer, ahh”

His pace is sloppy now, hitting harder and harder against your insides until he burst and pulls out quickly to let all his cum go on your stomach

“Ahh that was so good, we‘l have to try it again don’t you think” all you can do is lay back and the coach

“Yes master” if saying that would let you avoid more pain then he’s already inflicted them you would say that

Every. Single. Time.

[aluminumneedles]

The Great Knitted Christmas Gifts Bonanza of 2024

(Working title)

Besties and beloved mutuals, welcome to the chaos.

This will be wacky. Zany. Incredibly boring at times and possibly excessively dramatic for no reason at all except my (and hopefully your) amusement. We will laugh! I will cry! We will perhaps commiserate over things and also I will aggravate my carpal tunnel! I will ask for advice on things I don't know how to do! I will make polls because audience participation is enrichment for me! Good shit good shit let's get started

At the time of writing it is September 18, 2024, also known as 98 days before Christmas Eve, which will heretofore be known as The Deadline™️. I have, at present, four family members for whom I am making gifts. Now you may be thinking "Kay, that's only four people. That does not warrant a big post." But I'm making one anyway so here we goooo

PERSON #1

Mom. I already decided on my mom's gift, she's getting a shawl. It's my first shawl and I'm kinda geeked about it. It's the Cosmos Textured Knit Wrap from Mama in a Stitch

(photo taken from Mama in a Stitch's website I hope that's ok??)

Yarn is Red Heart worsted weight acrylic in Royal. Now here's the situation: I haven't made a wearable with acrylic yarn in awhile and I wasn't a huge fan of how it felt last time. But I know people do it literally every day, so: when the time comes I will be soliciting advice on how to make it soft and comfy. Plus I hate blocking and I'm gonna have to block this so yay growth!!

PERSON #2

My sister. Adorable, likes a pastel, super long hair, so I was thinking...scrunchies? And then I was thinking scrunchies are not necessarily on the level of gift I was aiming for so I thought...scrunchies + matching leg warmers (babydoll goes to the gym sometimes so i thought it would be cute)? And then. AND THEN. Was scrolling Pinterest instead of sleeping and I found these!!!

Now there are pros and cons

Pros:

I have been wanting to knit lace

I have been wanting to knit socks

Cons:

I have no experience knitting lace or socks

Oh well f*ck it we ball! Will still try to match the scrunchies to the socks. Send thoughts/prayers/advice/yarn recs, because idk what I am doingggg

PERSON #3

My brother. So, at the first of the year I started knitting a blanket kind of just because--I really liked the pattern and I wanted the feeling of starting something new in the new year. In April I decided it would be a gift for my boyfriend at the time, in May it became too hot to knit with wool, and in July the relationship ended. My brother has expressed interest in a blanket from the same pattern and has offered to take this one off my hands. I'm about 3/4 of the way done. Should be an easy gift, right? Maybe I'll throw in a matching pillow?

However, I once promised to make him this sweater:

(image snagged from the MomentsinTwine Etsy shop)

I bought the pattern, I bought the yarn, and I never delivered. (I started it and frogged it twice because my gauge was so so off.)

So uhhh PLEASE do the poll I need help deciding. Yarn would probably be a golden yellow wool blend, because that is the color he wanted 3 years ago and if I ask for an updated color choice he'll know what I'm working on 😭

PERSON #4

My dad.

Y'all.

I have no idea what to do for this man. He is a very classic "I don't want anything" person, and I am a classic "Must. Give. Gift." person. So already, times are tough!! What am I supposed to knit this man???

So I was thinking slippers-- I found a pattern for Woodland Loafers on Ravelry (pattern by Claire Slade) and I thought they were adorable. But then I was thinking why not make a whole, like, cozy care package? So I thought slippers, mug rug + mug cozy, maybe something else? He likes music, he likes to relax and watch his lil shows, he likes M*rvel?? Open to so many suggestions babes.

So...yeah. That's the show. I'll update as I go along, and if you're ever curious about how things are going or want to bully me about not making progress, please nudge me!! Sorry this was so long okay bye

[carlyraejepsans]

you just mentioned in the tags ''toriel stopping sans from [cutting the humans' journey short] by killing them'' ive always wondered, do you think sans would actually have killed the human if he hadnt made the promise to toriel? i think you mentioned once that the ''youd be dead where you stand'' moment is another one of sans fumbling attempts to seem threatening but despite that, do you think he wouldve actually done it ? if hed seen them kill monsters or during a pacifist run? or do you think it wouldve played out similarly to canon in the genocide route or that he wouldve been just less involved with the human during their journey in a pacifist run?

(ok i found this in my drafts and I don't remember where i was going with this, but i kinda went off so have this as it is lol)

i keep 5 versions of sans that are Ever So Slightly Different According to How I Interpret Different Details simultaneously rotating in my brain at all times. so uhhhhh yes and no.

jokes aside, I'm starting to gravitate more towards the interpretation that like... the threat he made at the restaurant? full on jackassery. shithead extraordinaire. he WAS messing with us.

but would he have tried to kill a human if toriel hadn't made him promise otherwise?

...yeah i think so. let me elaborate

here's the thing though: i think people put way too much weight on that! i mean it's a fighting RPG, every single other character—bar toriel—fights you to either capture and have you sent to the capital or to kill you themselves. either way they want your SOUL. papyrus... is his own neutral case here with his refusal to kill you.

my point being: every monster you meet wants to fight you. it's through that fight (or what happens afterwards) that you actively challenge their point of view and befriend them.

you don't go through this with sans. he never fights you, so you never need to change his mind because that belief was challenged before we even got to the underground, through toriel's words alone. that's... kind of admirable?

but it does frame his actions in a very creepy way from our point of view in-game. not to forget his dumbass scary pranks. because we go from someone a bit mysterious though ultimately friendly and goofy whom we thought we could trust, to someone who openly tells us he could've been a threat for us... and then never delivers. at least, not in any playthrough where we hear that line of dialogue.

so much of sans' character and appearance stems from tonal dissonance. he's shamelessly comfortable in the game's tone and vibes, but still stands out as an outsider. he plainly doesn't play by the same rules as everyone else, so we don't judge him by the same standards, either.

even more, if he actually kept his promise the way toriel meant it, that would've meant playing the entire game like a tutorial. sure, you can enjoy the story, but did you enjoy playing the section in the RUINs when she's with us? it's basically handholding the entire time. it's BORING for us, and ultimately, Undertale is a game! so it should be enjoyable to its player. which brings me to our next point:

ultimately... yeah maybe he would've tried to kill us. and yes it is kinda shitty that he only kept his promise by not doing that. in a sans characteristic troll way, i mean. but acting like the "sans was happy to watch a baby get beat up and killed" jokes are, well, anything other than jokes is just a plain bad reading. forget about post pacifist. during a gameplay, frisk IS the Human IS us IS the PLAYER. which means capable of RESET and SAVE. which means essentially immortal, at the end of the day. it's the "special power" sans tells us about in his judgement. you can't treat us with the same moral lenses as an NPC. the power we hold over their world in the game is lovecraftian. we can literally destroy it entirely, an outcome that was scientifically predicted by some characters in the game...

...sans being one of them. every interaction with you, every joke and every hand extended in friendship and eye closed to your shenanigans. all of it, the good and the not-so-good. it's all colored with the knowledge that the "human" in front of him could end the world. whether you actually do that or not.

this is one of my favorite moments in the canon. one time. one second where the mask slips and we see through the cracks in the façade of laid back confidence. and what we see is a mirror, held up to our face.

and it's fucking terrifying.

"waaaa sans is bad because he lets us die" boo-FUCKING-hoo brother! cry me a river then throw ice cubes in it. mans goes through all of this on the daily and still gives us a chance, you should be thanking him.

i have a few other opinions on this topic that i feel are relevant, but I don't feel like putting them into a coherent argument so I'll just list them instead:

there are some collateral factors that i think would've prevented him from killing us outside of toriel's promise. mainly the fact that papyrus was feeling down and meeting a real human would've cheered him up. then he would've befriended us because of course he would, and of course sans wasn't going to kill his brother's new bestie.

so would he have fought us in a pacifist or papyrus-friendly netral run? maybe not! but he WOULD'VE whooped ass sooner if things got out of hand.

it's kind of a given that sans figures out you can manipulate time very early into the game. he works for/with asgore, who knows from first-hand child-murder experiences that it's an ability humans have, he's a scientist who studied the space-time continuum of their world and he's a friend of alphys', the royal scientist who studied human souls and determination (and let's not even get into his connections to gaster). he's a bright lad. he put two and two together.

while he COULD have seen taking a humans' soul as a necessary evil for monsterkind's freedom (promise to toriel aside) he openly sympathized with the anomaly. he's not there to be a time cop. he just wants to avoid the literal annihilation of the universe.

[...? yeah i never continued this. still stands tho.]

[kinardsevan]

this was actually a Send Me Asks list I posted back in June, but I'm bored and want to answer these anyway sooooo. enjoy.

🫓 What is your most popular fic? -this really depends on which metric we base it on. hits: empty bones. comments: empty bones. kudos: the saboteur (in terms of WIPs and not one shots, aneurysm fic is first) bookmarks: it's gonna be alright (piece by piece) [aka aneurysm fic] that all said, these two get just about equal attention (which is why I love them both equally)

🥘 What category do most of your fics fall under? 😂😂😂😂😂 emotional angst, hurt/comfort. my friends have a lot to say about it too 😂😂😂😂

🍲 When did you start writing and why? literally as a little kid, because my mom told me about her writing poetry as a little kid and gaining recognition for it. i thought that was cool. given the fact that I'm now a published poet and have had a group exhibition, I'd say my artistry is paying off.

🍱 Do you read your own fics? yes and no? I don't read all of them, but with stories like aneurysm fic and empty bones (and a little bit the devil doesn't bargain), I need to refer back to them for information. Plus, I tend to write shit I end up being really proud of, and I like to read those scenes back to myself.

🍛 Have any comments, tags or reactions to one of your fics every made you laugh or cry or both? make me laugh? all the time. @im-turnip and @girlwonder-writes always entertain me with their responses. I haven't really ever had one that's made me cry, but every time I've gotten a review on Empty Bones (or Lost That War in the PLL fandom) about the way people could relate... I screenshot and save those babies as memories that someone else understands it too. Makes me feel less alone and more understood.

🍜 Do you ever feel pressured to write? fuck yes. I thrive off of positive reinforcement, and at one point last summer I was posting EVERY. FUCKING. DAY. Waking up to those reviews drove me to write even more. Now that I'm back in school and have less time to write, it's harder to generate content, but I still crave that attention. But even beyond that, I know there are people waiting to see what's going to happen (fun fact: you and I are going to find out together 😂), and I don't like the idea of letting them down.

🍠 How long does it take you to write one of your fics or a chapter/part? ....depends. if I have the time, an 8-10k chapter can be cranked out in about 3 days, sometimes less. For something with chapters the length of aneurysm fic (which started at 10k and now have some as long as 20k)....weeks? chapter 6 probably won't be done before November. Honestly it just depends on how much detail goes into one scene and how much I've mapped that dialogue out in my head.

🍢 Have you ever gotten hate on a fic? yes. not in the 911 fandom (yet...that i can remember lmao), but way back when I was a teenager writing in the tslotat fandom, I got it more than once.

🍣 What helps you focus or get in the mood to write? music. youtube videos. little 'what-if' scenarios.

🍥 What's your favorite fic you've written? 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

DON'T ME PICK BETWEEN THE TWINS, OK?

Ok ok, though... it's empty bones. BUT. It's my heart and soul and I just... you know?

But also, it's aneurysm fic, because of the level of work and research and it's my little baby and and and. So.... you know?

🥮 Do you have any writing milestones you're working toward? I know at the end of the summer I was closing in on like 400k on the year. I'd like to hit 5 and maybe even further. in the depths of my depression in 2013, when I quit writing, I'd done roughly 750k that year (for a fully calendar year), and there's something enticing about breaking that record, especially knowing my mind is in a completely different place these days.

🍡 Which of your fics was the most emotionally difficult to write? One Tear At A Time. I wrote that entire series off the heels of my friend dying when we were 21. I had a really hard time dealing with it, especially because I was living at home with unmedicated, severe depression and no prospects for my future. He was married, in the army, with a baby on the way. I used that story as a vehicle to really face my issues with the fact that I was angry about my own situation and also talk about what it's like to lose someone you were once in love with at such a young age, but I still cried while working on it.

🍘 Is there a fic or idea for a fic that you've abandoned? oh absolutely. 40 Days was supposed to be a 4 story arc. I wrote two of them and started the third....and then fell off hard.

in terms of what I'm working on now.... I mean I still have my list of ideas. I wouldn't say I've abandoned anything newer, mostly that I'm just super busy and haven't found time to get back to them. even with Your Arson's Match, I know what happens next. I just have to get around to it 😂😂😂😂

🍙 Is there a fic you wish had gotten more attention? I mean selfishly I want them all to 😂😂😂 However, I realize that I write a particular brand of fic (angst) for a ship that, while it's doing well, isn't the #1 ship for its show. That all said... empty bones and aneurysm fic 😂😂😂😂😂😂

🍚 What genre do you have the toughest time writing? .... .... .... ( @girlwonder-writes no one asked you 😂😂😂) ...fluff.... LIFE IS PAINFUL OK. I NEED TO PROCESS THE ICK. 😂

[rebeccajwrites]

It Didn't Have to Happen Like This

Matt jumped into his truck and hurriedly started the engine. As the engine roared to life, the bluetooth connected to his phone and the excited tone of two male podcasters blared from the speakers.

“- yeah, it’s finally happening. Congress has finally reinstated the section of the Comstock Act of 1873 which criminalizes the use of mail to send birth control or any material designed, intended, or advertised for abortion causing purposes. 

 Wow, so this is great, right? 

Absolutely. The Department of Justice released a statement of support of the reinstated law, stating they plan to prosecute offenders to the fullest extent of the law - “

He punched the power button to the radio off and pressed his foot harder on the pedal. The panicked thoughts that raced in his mind were loud enough and he needed to focus. The text he’d received earlier only said: Emergency. Get to St. Francis. He called 3 times only to be sent to voicemail before shooting off a quick text: On My Way. His white knuckled grip on the steering wheel navigated the vehicle as he headed into downtown San Antonio, speeding past slower cars on Highway 90. 

The furious pounding of his heart was the only thing he could hear as he pulled into the hospital parking lot.  St. Francis was one of the new state run hospitals that recently opened providing much needed medical support to the area. Many of the privately owned hospitals had closed down and publicly funded hospitals were dwindling. As he ran towards the entrance, he knew there could be only one place to go. He dashed towards the elevators and shoved a waiting group out of his way to barge into the first available open doors.

He jammed his finger on the button to the 8th floor cursing under his breath as the doors slowly closed. He hit the button again silently begging it to go faster. The elevator doors opened and Matt rushed out, quickly scanning the room for the reception desk. The waiting room was painted in soft pastel pink with pastel blue chairs. A sharp smell of cleaning products and antiseptic wafted in the air. It was eerily quiet except for the small TV playing on low volume in the corner. There were a few men seated in the waiting room. He spared them without a glance as he spied the reception desk in the corner and hurried over. 

A male nurse dressed in dark blue scrubs sat at the desk. His name tag said Nathan. “Hello, what is your name?” The bored sounding nurse did not bother looking up. 

“Matt Wilson, I’m here -.” 

“Yes, thank you.” Nathan turned his attention to the computer in front of him.

“My wife, don’t you need her name? She was brought here-” 

“No. Female patients are identified by husband’s name only.” Came Nathan’s curt reply. There was no further response, only the sound of the clack of the keyboard and the click of the mouse as Nathan began to search on the computer. Minutes passed and the nurse kept clacking and clicking away, only pausing to read the screen. 

Matt huffed loudly while glaring at Nathan. He drummed his fingers against the desk and tapped his foot impatiently. He looked towards the door that led to the patients. A thick steel door guarded the entrance beyond. It had no windows or view to the inside and there were no handles to open from the outside. There was a camera pointed directly at the door.

The sign above the door said: Preborn Unit. 

Matt returned his attention to the nurse. “Is everything all right? What’s taking so long?” Annoyance replaced concern as the nurse continued to delay.  “I need to know what room my wife is in.” Matt demanded loudly. 

“One moment please.” The nurse picked up the phone and turned his chair away. Matt could hear Nathan murmur urgently to someone on the other line. 

Nathan swiveled his chair to face Matt once again. “Ok. So, some people are going to be right out. They’ll explain everything.” He plopped the phone back down and abruptly stood up. Without another word, he walked towards the back of the reception area.

“What! Who! What people? My wife is here somewhere!” Matt shouted after the nurse. He started to panic. What was happening? Why wasn’t he allowed to see his wife? He clenched his fists and paced the length of the reception desk. I should just push my way in, they can’t keep me out. He took out his cell phone. Great, no reception!. Groaning inwards, he raked his face with his hands. 

There was a loud buzzing sound as the door to the Preborn Unit opened and two men in dark suits with police officers appeared in the doorway. They marched towards Matt with stony and unsmiling faces. Matt narrowed his eyes as they approached, a pit in his stomach beginning to form. 

“Mr. Matthew Wilson. I am Agent Roger Servino with the DOL. And this is Special Representative Kevin Roberts from the DWH.” Both men pulled official looking badges from inside their coat pockets. “We’ll need you to come with us. We have some questions.”

Matt’s eyes darted between the two agents that stood before him. Perspiration formed on his temple and his mouth became dry. Suddenly he became too aware of his rumpled work uniform and scuffed steel toe boots. 

“What do you want? What is this about?” Matt asked hesitantly. 

“Mr. Wilson, we need you to come with us.” Agent Servino motioned to grab Matt’s arm. 

“Hey, don’t touch me!” Matt jerked back and angled his back towards the wall. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on!”

Agent Servino motioned to the officers waiting. One of the officers grabbed Matt’s wrist and he twisted away. Matt struggled to stay on his feet as he felt multiple hands aggressively shoving him to the ground. His arms were bent painfully behind his back as he was forced onto his stomach. He heard the click of handcuffs being put into place. 

“You can’t do this! I have rights!” Matt shouted. No one listened to his protests as the officers yanked him up and dragged him down the hall. They pulled him to a windowless dimly lit room that had a metal table and 3 chairs. Matt was forced into one of the chairs while an officer shackled his wrists to the cuff bar on the table. 

The two agents slid into the chairs opposite Matt and laid out their files. Matt’s heart was beating loudly in his chest. His fingers were beginning to tingle from the tight restraints at his wrists. He clasped his sweaty hands together to hide the shaking. You need to calm down. You have to get ahead of this. Just do as they say and this will be over. He sat up straight in the chair, the cuffs clanking loudly on the table, as he puffed out his chest and stared evenly at the men across from him. 

“Mr. Wilson, as I stated earlier, I am Agent Roger Servino with the Department of Life. We promote the life and health of women and their unborn children and we have full authority to conduct investigations on their behalf.” Agent Servino’s oversized vacuum shaped mouth opened like an accordion when he spoke, revealing jagged rows of yellow stained teeth. His sloping forehead framed black beady eyes gleaming from sunken eye sockets. He motioned to the other agent. 

“Special Representative Kevin Roberts represents the Domestic Women’s Health Department. He serves as the lead on all matters of federal domestic policy development related to life and family. He’s here to mostly observe.” Representative Roberts shifted in his seat looking uncomfortable as if he was wearing a suit made of human skin. He offered Matt a thin lipped smile that didn’t reach his soulless blue eyes.

Matt raised his chin and said with more confidence than he felt, “Department of what? I’ve never heard of it. There has to be some misunderstanding. If I’m not released, I’ll call my lawyer and sue all of you.” 

Agent Servino ignored Matt and continued, “Your wife was admitted today at approximately 1:15 pm complaining of severe abdominal pain and significant vaginal bleeding. When she arrived, Doctors did not feel there was a true threat to the mother’s life and all efforts were made to prevent embryonic death.

He paused before continuing, “The decision to prioritize the fetus postponed care to the mother and ultimately, your wife succumbed to the blood loss and went into cardiac arrest. The doctors are currently doing all they can. We should be hearing an update shortly.”

Matt’s heart dropped into his stomach as the air rushed out of his lungs. His mouth gaped open like a fish as he tried to force the stale air into his lungs. The edge of the metal table bit into his forearms as he leaned heavily against it. He pressed his sweaty palms down onto the table letting the coolness steady him. This shouldn’t be happening. Why didn’t the doctors treat her immediately? 

“What do you mean there wasn’t a true threat? You delayed care and now she’s had a heart attack!,” Matt shouted. “Are you even a doctor? Are you some kind of medical professional? Because I need to talk to them.” 

“We are working with life affirming medical professionals to conduct this investigation on behalf of the fetus.” Agent Servino stared blankly at Matt. 

Matt’s eyes widened in disbelief, “What investigation? For my wife? What’s this got to do with me? You drag me in here and give me no reason! I want answers!” 

“Mr. Wilson, you and your wife are being investigated for intentional feticide by labor induction. We reviewed your wife’s last prenatal visit. There was no indication that there was reason to worry. We need to know about your recent trip to New Hampshire.” 

“What? What are you talking about? I didn’t - I haven’t -,” Matt closed his eyes, his mind spinning. He tried to rack his brain for answers but kept coming up empty. “Look, I’m a truck driver, all right? I was long haul until recently, I had a load that went to New Hampshire. Call my boss. He can vouch for me.”

“What did you do while you were in New Hampshire? Can anyone account for your activities while out of state? Did your wife go with you?” 

“Are you deaf!? I just said I had to deliver a load. And yeah, sure, I dragged my 8 months pregnant wife in a semi trailer truck on a road trip.” Matt licked his lips nervously. “What are you getting at?”

“Mr. Wilson, are you aware New Hampshire is currently a haven for abortion tourism?” Special Agent Roberts interjected with a snarl. 

Matt stared dumbfoundedly at Roberts and then to Servino. Unbridled disgust was written all over both of the agents’ faces. Realization dawned on Matt as he flushed with embarrassment. He wanted to scream in frustration. Of course he was against abortion. How dare these men imply otherwise. Anything he could do to save the unborn he did it. Sign that petition? Done. Donate a little extra during collection at church? Fine. 

He was aware that the newest restrictions passed by the government were extremely strict but he hadn’t really given it any thought. The restrictions did not allow exceptions for rape or if the mother’s life was in danger, but he didn’t know anyone who had been raped and nothing would happen to his wife. The new strict laws would mostly affect women who didn't want to face the consequences of their actions. If Matt was really honest, he was a bit glad that those types were facing some type of accountability. 

“Are you serious? We don’t believe in that. My wife and I are good Christians. We would never do that. Ever.” Matt snapped. “There must be some kind of misunderstanding. This shouldn’t be happening to me.”

Agent Servino interrupted brusquely. “Mr. Wilson, you and your wife are facing serious allegations. I suggest you comply with this investigation. If you truly have done nothing wrong, then let us do our job. We need you to sign this authorization which allows us to conduct a full check of your employment, credit and criminal history.” He slid the paper to Matt.

Matt hung his head and exhaled slowly. Exhaustion settled in his bones. He numbly glanced through the document before quickly signing and pushed it back across the table. 

Agent Servino collected the files and both agents left the room leaving Matt alone still cuffed to the table. He rested his forehead on the cool table and closed his eyes. His wife was somewhere in that hospital, alone and scared. He wanted to smash his way out of that room and tear down every door until he found her. He choked back the rage building and forced himself to stay calm. 

There was no clock in the room so he passed the time by praying. He asked God to watch over his wife and their baby. He promised God they would attend church every Sunday from now on. As time crawled, Matt begged, bargained and pleaded with God for deliverance.   

Eventually the door opened and Agent Servino walked in with a solemn looking man in a white coat. Agent Servino unlocked Matt from the cuffs as the solemn man spoke. 

“Mr. Wilson, I’m Dr. Stephen Walker - ”

“How is my wife?” Matt interrupted. 

“Mr. Wilson, by the time emergency doctors were called, the patient was unresponsive and she had no pulse.  She was intubated and chest compressions were performed with no change in cardiac rhythm.” Dr. Walker paused, looking regretful before continuing. 

“Emergency personnel performed CPR for approximately 20 minutes. As the patient remained pulseless, CPR was continued and a medically indicated maternal fetal separation was performed. There was no change in the mother’s condition following the separation and she was pronounced dead. The infant was intubated and resuscitated and transferred to the neonatal intensive care unit. However, the infant died approximately an hour later. The autopsy of the mother was inconclusive, but her death was determined to be due to natural causes.” 

Time slowed to a stop as Matt’s heart dropped into his stomach. Bile rose up his throat and suddenly he couldn’t remember how to breathe. A cold sweat broke out across his chest and back while he lost the feeling in his arms and legs. The roar in his ears as the blood rushed out from his face was deafening. He stumbled on his feet as the room spun out of control. 

The doctor said something that Matt couldn't hear before awkwardly patting Matt on the shoulder and walked out. Agent Servino pulled Matt towards the hallway and dragged Matt’s limp body like a rag doll to the reception area. 

“Mr. Wilson, my condolences for your loss. The loss of a child is something no parent should have to bear.  We are sorry for your wife as well. The DOL recognizes that many women can find themselves in difficult situations but with that, the heroism of every choice to become a mother. The investigation has been closed and you have been cleared from any charges. A nurse will be right with you to sign the paperwork to release the bodies.” Agent Sevino, eager to begin his next investigation, turned on his heel and rushed back to the Preborn Unit. 

Matt leaned against the wall resting his forehead against the wood panel. He choked back the bile still burning in his throat while his jaw was clenched so hard he could feel a vein throbbing in his neck. Matt tightly squeezed his watery eyes closed and concentrated on breathing. He inhaled the antiseptic hospital smell and forced the nausea down. 

He slowly pushed off the wall and looked around the waiting area. His gaze fell onto a man slumped over in the corner, crying quietly. He recognized his father in law and trudged towards the man with trepidation. His father in law looked up, his eyes red and swollen. 

“Matt. I’m so sorry.” a voice rasped out between stifled sobs. “I should have never brought her here. I didn’t know what else to do. There was so much blood. They told me about the baby. I can’t believe my grandbaby is gone.” He stared at Matt with glazed eyes, “They questioned me too. I told them I would never support ending a life. I raised her right. You don’t think she did any of this on purpose? I just never thought this could happen to me. I felt so embarrassed being questioned like that. They treated me like I was a criminal.” He pressed his hands over his face and cried. 

Matt said nothing and stared at his father in law, disgust curdling his stomach.

He heard Nathan call his name in the distance. The nurse gave Matt an unconcerned glance while he shoved a clipboard into Matt’s hands. “Please sign here. I’m sorry for your loss. Both bodies will be released within 24 hours. If there is a funeral home you want us to coordinate with, just let us know.” 

The nurse thrust the signed documents into Matt’s hands and marched off. Matt felt numb and unsure of what to do. His mind clouded over like misty fog in the early morning. He watched his father in law for a few more seconds before walking out. 

He pulled into the driveway of his home with no memory of how he got there. He turned off the ignition and sat in the dark silence. The stillness suffocated him. He looked at his home, his face expressionless and vacant. There were no lights, movement, or sounds to greet him. He gripped the house key tightly in his hand until he felt the metal bite into his flesh. 

With a heavy heart, he crossed the threshold of his empty home. He stood in the entryway and took a deep breath. Fresh laundry mixed with her vanilla perfume still clung to the air. He spotted her running shoes casually strewn on the floor. Her purse was still on the entry table. Shadows in the shape of his wife mocked him from every corner. 

The soft padded footsteps on the carpet was the only sound he heard as he walked down the darkened hall. He came to the doorway of a small room and pushed the door open. It opened with a loud creak. He staggered inside and glanced around. Light from the street streamed through the window casting the room in a yellow glow. He stood unmoving, not trusting his shaky legs could carry him any longer. He held his breath and swore he could hear the distant cries of a baby. 

Waves of grief poured over him as his eyes burned with unshed tears.  He looked around with unseeing eyes. A crib for a baby that would never sleep in it. A rocking chair for a mother that would never come home. A room for a family that would never be. 

His gaze fell to the dresser and he released the breath he was holding. On the top of the dresser was a photo of him and his wife. He snatched the photo off the dresser and choked back a sob. It was the maternity photo she had made them do. He remembered pouting about having to get dressed up and how it made her mad at him. He would give anything to go back to that day. He softly caressed the photo willing her to come back to life.

Matt collapsed onto the floor as a guttural inhumane scream escaped from his lips. He clutched the photo to his chest as a hot serrated knife slowly pushed into flesh and tore his heart out, piece by piece. He screamed again into the darkness, begging for relief. The excruciating pain of loss was too much for him to bear. He was so angry. How did this happen? Why did this happen? Why did my wife die? 

It didn’t have to happen like this. 

[pyroselkie]

Ok I feel like this is gonna be like super problematic or something but I feel like I should just get it out. I welcome comments, discussion, reblogs, and tags.

I find it really hard to talk about my own culture, because white (as in American/Canadian/British/Australian/etc) people talking about their culture has become such a taboo. And understandably so, to be fair, because due to colonization, there are a lot of cultural things that are no longer specific, and are now global in several other cultures that wouldn't otherwise have them.

I often see people in fandom from so many different countries and cultures take characters and put them in their culture: wearing certain clothes, eating certain food, doing certain activities, and so on, and I LOVE it. I love people exploring their love for their own culture and their love for their blorbo(s) at the same time. There's so much joy in it.

There's been several times where I wanted to join in, but felt like I couldn't because I "don't have a culture", as a white British person. But that's just completely untrue? I DO have a culture. It's not one that most people seem to care about, but I do. Sunday dinners, chip shops, pantomimes. Despite growing up in England, my dad is Scottish and I visited his side of the family up in Aberdeen on a regular basis, so kilts (they were worn by most if not all of the men at the first two weddings I remember attending) and bagpipes (I LOVE the sound, they're beautiful when played well) are also on there for me. My accent is a part of my culture too, and I genuinely love my accent (my strange little combination of RP and East Midlands that has people asking me if I'm Canadian...). Don't even get me started on the food (yes it's pretty bland and looks very boring but done right it's tasty and it's filling, yes i think it's stupid as hell that the british empire colonised a bunch of places in order to get spices and now a lot of white people in the UK don't even USE most of those spices)

With a little more thinking, I could probably list a lot more, but I feel like I can't so much as mention it off-handedly without someone showing up out of the woodwork to make fun of lower-class British accents (like when people say "bri'ish" (although I enjoy it when it's used in a neutral and fun way) or when people just completely fuck up and bastardise whichever already-discriminated-against English accent they're making fun of this time - honestly I think RP could stand to be made fun of a bit a lot more), or to make fun of the spices issue (like I said before YES it's stupid, do you think I colonised those countries myself????) and make horrid over-the-top gagging noises whenever "UK" and "food" are so much as mentioned in the same sentence.

I mean look at this. I just wanted to talk about my culture and how it affects me and I feel like I have to have such a huge lead-up and THEN I still feel the need to explain that the british empire sucked and that a lot of our food is quite bland etc etc etc.

With other (non-English speaking/non-white) cultures, people can just mention things and dress their favourite characters in traditional clothes and it's lovely and celebrated. Please keep doing this. Please put your favourite characters in your culture, there is NOTHING more joyful in fandom spaces than spreading your love of your own culture through characters that you also love.

I'd like to join in, is all. I'm not asking for the red carpet to be rolled out for me, I just feel like someone's gonna attack me if I mention my faves enjoying my favourite British food.

But even asking this feels like I'm being White(tm) and throwing a tantrum and whining "WHAT ABOUT MEEE?!?!?!?!" - this is NOT what I'm trying to do here. I don't need attention for it. Honestly the less attention I get the better, it feels like. I've seen some british hate on here that is genuinely horrible and disturbing. And sure, it's deserved for all of the colonisation and the many attrocities, but I didn't choose to be born here????? YES it's terrible but I'm tired of being the punching bag of everything that my country (countries?) have ever done wrong.

Is this entitled of me? It doesn't feel like it, but reading through this post, it kinda looks like it. Am I just insane and paranoid? Maybe. I don't know.

[evening-winds]

20 Questions for Fic Writers Tag Game

saw someone do this and tagging "and everyone who sees this and wants to answer" so i'm stealing this. consider yourself tagged if you see this and want to answer!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 19!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 224,584!

3. What fandoms do you write for? raileon all the way

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? let's see...

1) wouldn't have it any other way — relatively short and a quick read, fun banter, pretty cute 2) keeping count — my emotional distress fic (to quote a bookmark a reader made). it packs a punch 3) dragon song — surprised that the novel-length one is this high on the list!! wow people really managed to read that one huh 4) the best way to put together me (will you and i make a breakthrough) — baby's first (finished and published) fic, and it shows. made it to this list by virtue of being posted in the relatively early days of the fandom lol (i suppose it's still decent enough) 5) you are my delightful intruder — direct sequel to breakthrough, so i guess it makes sense to see it here right after it

5. Do you respond to comments? yes! well, 99% of the time. a couple of times i've gotten a comment and went like "huh. ok. i have literally nothing to say. even a thank you would feel weird in this context" and not replied

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? a shadow of a memory aka hurt no comfort bad end au!! i know such a string of words may sound very unappealing but it's a good fic!!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? uhhhhh......... i'm a sucker for happy endings (asoam notwithstanding) so i really can't say. i'm gonna go with the most self-indulgent answer and say certainty 👍 nothing happier than self-discovery (and smooches) (but there are also so many that have them getting engaged/being married by the end so. you know)

8. Do you get hate on fics? nope *knock on wood* (speaking of certainty, the reason i put off finishing it was because i had a very vivid dream about getting doxxed and death threats for having bad headcanons and it genuinely freaked me out for a while. good thing nothing like that happened in reality)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? nope. not my cup of tea. i barely read it, either. sorry for being both ace AND boring

10. Do you write crossovers? nope. also not really my cup of tea

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? i hope not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no, unless you count the translating i have to do myself for every fic i write (tough EFL speaker life 😔👊)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? the very first fic i wrote was written round-robin style with a friend nearly 20 years ago! we never published it (thank the stars). after that, nope.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will? everything in my wip folder.............. the one posted wip, heart as a compass (soulmate au), is on hiatus but i keep thinking about it. if only it wasn't 100k+ words long. that's too much!! ain't nobody got time for that (that includes both me and any potential readers)!!! out of the unposted ones i have to say serendipity (time travel au), which!! man!!! i have the setup, i have the romance, i have the fun little bits that appeal to me specifically and make me feel like a genius, i have the slowburn and the yearning and the delicious impossibility of it all, but. the plot. what is it. why is the time travel needed. i still don't know. also yet-unnamed champion!raihan au. i think about that one a lot, too. mostly the romance part and how it would be different when only one of them is a public figure. again, i'm missing the actual plot. every time i try to think about how the story of the games would pan out in this setting, i just skip straight to the end and start daydreaming about the role-switched post-eternatus hurt/comfort instead lol

16. What are your writing strengths? a background in linguistics and generally just. reading a lot i guess. learning by observing, absorbing everything. understanding the rules and techniques of prose. knowing where to look for guidance when you get stuck with something language-related. that sort of thing

17. What are your writing weaknesses? perfectionism. also the fact that i """have""" to write in english. this combo means that it takes a lot of work and effort! and i hate work and effort!! (anyone want to learn a globally insignificant and allegedly very difficult language that is 100% useless unless you want to live here so i could simply write in my first language and not have to deal with my nemesis (affectionate), i.e. the english language)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? if it makes sense in the narration and context, why not. not something i have personally had to deal with as a writer

19. First fandom you wrote for? hp..... unfortunately (see #13)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? it changes constantly. right now i can barely make myself look at any of them, let alone name a favorite. so i guess i'll say this: give a shadow of a memory a chance. it's unconventional but pretty cool

[bteezxyewriter12]

Drunken Night

Pairing- Jin x Named Reader

Word count- 2.3k

Includes- drunk sex (consensual), missionary, cock riding, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxxmine

@yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana

@tannie13 @borntowalkaway @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝 BTS Masterlist

📝Jin Masterlist

Part 2

Jin POV

We stand in the liquor section of the supermarket, trying to decide if we want regular vodka or one of the flavor ones

She already got her tequila

I want to try whiskey so I got a bottle of that

"Mango", she says

"What no!", I shake my head

"Yes. I like mango"

"But mango really? Why not lime?"

"Boring", she sings

"I just have good taste while yours is sub par"

"Fuck off Jin. I'm getting the mango one" she scowls

"Fine then I'm getting the regular one"

"Fine!", she rolls her eyes

Sometimes she drives me crazy

No scratch that, she's been driving me crazy since we met a few years ago through Namjoon

She laughed at one of my jokes and I immediately liked her

We got to be really good friends, hanging out anytime I had time

And after coming back from tour, I have a few days off and I called her

She was gonna go out to a club with her friends but she changed her plans because she knows I'm not great with crowds and people I don't know

I felt bad she changed her plans, so I told her we could get some drinks and watch a movie

She agreed and here we are arguing over vodka

We both grab the bottle we want and head to the cash register

The cashier rings up the bottles and I pull out my card, paying for it

"Kim, Seokjin, no!"

"Oh c'mon Jo", I snort, "It's just some alcohol. That I'm going to drink too. It's not a big deal"

She scowls, "Fine but don't do that again"

I roll my eyes, "Ok Jo"

She sticks her tongue out at me and I just laugh, "Very mature Jo"

"Yes I am. Now let's go"

I grab the bags before she can, with her giving me a glare

I smile sweetly at her and we leave the store, heading for her apartment

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

"Ugh", I groan, making a face

"Ugh what?", she groans

"This tastes hhh...hhhh..horrible", I slur, leaning back on the couch

We both had a few shots of each liquor and we're drunk

We just broke out the mango vodka and I had a sip

Nasty

"You... you...don't...uh... like like like...mmm...mangoes?", she slurs

"Yesh I uh um do. But not with vvvv...vodka. Gross"

She starts laughing hysterically and I don't know why

"Not funny", I frown which just makes her laugh more

"Is this the same as how you like bbbbb...bananas but but but not things that taste like bbbb...bananas?", she babbles

She looks at me confused

What is she talking about?

She said so many words about bananas and I heard her say I don't like them?

She knows I do

"I llll...like ban...ban...bananas", I frown more

"Ok", she shrugs

"I don't llll... ah...like things that that that I'm um taste like bbb...bananas"

"I say that!", she yells, "Right? Right Jinnie? I said said tttt... that?"

Did she?

I don't remember

I shrug, I don't know

She huffs at me then takes my shot glass and down the rest of my vodka

"Hey! That. Is...uh.. mine!", I yell

She drank my vodka

Without asking

Not nice

"Yyy..you....you said you no...", she trails off, stuttering, "No like"

"But...but...but"

It's so hard to think of words

My brain thinks them but my mouth isn't saying them right

"But it still mine!", I whine

"More?" she asks and I nod

She holds my glass trying to pour more into it but she keeps missing

"Jinnie, help!", she whines

"Uh ok"

My hands are wobbling and my vision is shifting just as I try to pour the vodka

And I get it all over her hand that's holding the glass

Shit

"Jinnie! My hand!", she protests

"Ssss....sorry"

She just takes the bottle and drink from it

"Hey! That's.....yuck", I mutter

She hands the bottle to me and I drink from it too

"Ugh!", I say, tasting the nasty flavor and swallowing it

"You..you said you want more", she says confused

"No no no more. Gross", I declare

"Then gimmie", she says reaching for it

"No", I shake my head, leaning back and holding the bottle out of her reach

She's gonna smell like mango and it's gonna make me throw up

"No more this. You have have have mmmm...mango breath"

She looks at me shocked, "You too"

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

"Gimmie", she shouts lunging for the bottle

But she misses and lands on top of me

"Ow", I complain, her elbow hitting me in the stomach

She glares at me like I did something wrong, her face so close to mine

"Then give me!"

"No!", I snap

We glare at each other for a few seconds before she moves closer

Her lips crash into mine in a kiss

How did this happen?

How am I kissing her right now?

I don't know but kissing her feels good

She pulls back looking at me confused as I feel

But I want it again

"More", I ask

She moves so fast, her mouth on mine, her arms around my neck, hands in my hair

I drop the bottle, hearing a crash as it hits the floor

I don't care

Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her to me tightly

I slide my tongue in her mouth and hers touches mine, feeling so good

Feeling her on top of me and kissing her makes me hard

Fucking hell I want her

I haven't had sex in awhile and I'm so horny

I pull away for a second, "Want you", I say, then go back to kissing her

"Want you too", she says, then kissing me again

She wants me too

Thank God because I need her right now

I sit up making her sit up too

Grabbing her shirt, I lift it over her head quickly

Reaching around her I try to undo her bra but I can't get it

Fuck it

Using both hands I pull, ripping the back of it, the fabric tearing in my hands

Grabbing the front of it, I tear it off her, then stare at her body

"Holy shit. Fuck", I breathe looking at her

My drunk brain registers that her body is fucking perfect

And so hot

I just want to touch her so I run my hands up her body, slowly

"Fuck Jin", she moans, grabbing my shirt, pulling it off

Her mouth drops staring at me

"Fuck Jin. Yyy..your body...uh.. fucking sexy. You're make me...so uh so... fucking horny"

"Good", I growl, pushing her back against the couch

Immediately hooking my fingers under the waistline of her pants and panties, I pull them down

I get off the couch and get everything off her

Then I take my pants and boxers off, getting back on the couch

Opening her legs, I suck in a breath

"Oh my my uh my fucking ggg...god", I moan staring at how wet she is

I just got harder

"Now Jin!", she yells, reaching out and touching my cock, "Want you now!"

Fuck yes

Leaning over her, I kiss her lips and bury my cock inside her

Oh god she feels fucking amaizng

"Fuck yes", she yells, holding onto my upper arms tightly

I start moving fast and hard listening to her moan and scream

"Jin oh my god Jin", she yells, "Fuck so good Jinnie. So fffff...fucking big and so fucking hhhhh.....hard"

Oh god she's turning me on so much

"You gggg...good. So tight. So wet", I groan

"Harder Jin. Fffff....fuck me harder", she demands

I nod, opening her legs more, slamming hard into her

"Yes Jin fuck!"

I feel her getting tighter on me, making everything feel so much better

"Jin, Jin, JIN!", she screams, squeezing my arms so tightly as she cums on me

"Holy shit!", I gasp

Oh my god it feels incredible

I fucking love it

I'm not going to be able to get enough of it

Bending her leg, I lean on it and holding her other leg open, I thrust harder into her, going in deeper

She screams loudly, her body shaking and moving up the couch

I want to hear her scream more, so I pound back into the same place

"Fucking hell Jin. There! Right there there there Jinnie!"

Hitting that spot again, I tease her, "There Jo? You want uh there?"

She nods her head rapidly

"What going to happen if I keep...keep....keep fucking you there?"

It's hard to think of words but I want to know the answer

"I'm gonna...fuck.... I'll cum on your...your ..uh...your cock", she shouts

"Promise?", I ask, getting excited

I want to feel her cum again

I fucking love it

"Yes!", she moans

"You sure? I'm going to mad if you don't ... don't...cum on me", I slur

Fuck it so hard to talk between being drunk and the massive pleasure I'm feeling

"I will. I pppp...promise. Jinnie!"

"Good uh girl", I answer, snapping my hips and burying myself in that spot in her over and over

It doesn't take long before she screams again, her pussy throbbing on my cock so fucking hard as she orgasms

"Seokjin! Oh my god, Seokjin!"

Fuck, I never loved hearing my name as much as I do right now

When she finishes she pushes me back

"What?", I ask confused

"Shh", she says kissing me and pushing me on my back, "Wanna ride uh ride you. Want too?"

There's nothing I want more than that

I nod quickly

She kisses me hard again, going on top of me

She sits up, getting me inside her and sliding down my shaft

"Fuck!", I moan as I watch her shake on top of me

From getting me in

Fucking amazing

She grabs onto the back of couch, leaning back and grabbing my thigh tightly, holding on

Fuck the pain feels so fucking good

She starts moving, bouncing hard and fast on my cock

Pleasure blasts my body as I watch her ride me so fucking well

My eyes are glued to her breasts which are bouncing hard from how hard she's fucking me

"Fuck Jin. You're fucking cock. Is uh fucking amazing. You feel so ..sss....so good. I love you cock inside mmmmm....me"

I whimper listening to her

Fucking hell, she loves me inside her

I love being in her

But the pleasure is so intense I can't speak

She get so tight on me making me gasp

"Sss...shit. Ddd don't let go", I moan

"No? Bbbbb..baby likes my pussy this ttttt.....tight on his cock? Feels good?", she teases

"Yes. Yes. Fffff...feels so good", I pant, breathing hard

"Does baby boy want mmmm...me to cum on his bbb..big hard cock?"

"Yes fuck please please please. Yes!"

She smirks, riding me harder, slamming herself down on me

"Fuck Jin", she moans, as I feel her get closer

"Want watch Jinnie?", she asks

Yes

Yes I do

I nod

She moves her hand from my leg, burying it in my hair and moving my head down from looking up at her

"Watch my pussy cum on your cock Jinnie", she orders

My eyes immediately move to her pussy fucking me

"Fuck", I whisper

My cock is fucking soaked with her cream as I watch her her slide up and down

Her legs start shaking and she screams my name coming

I watch her soak my cock with her cum, every time she slides up

"Fucking hell", I whisper

She lets go of my hair, grabbing onto my leg again as she keeps slamming down on me

I snap my hips up when she comes down, going in a lot deeper

"Fuck", we both yell at the same time

She's so tight, making every move we make feel out of this world

Sliding my hands on her hips, I hold on to her tightly

God the way she fucking moves is driving me crazy

It's like she's making sure I'm feeling so much pleasure

I fucking like that

"Good Jinnie?"

"The..bbb...best"

She smiles down at me, "Good. I want my Jinnie to ffff.....feel so gggggg....good too"

"I do Jo. You making sure I uh I.... I do", I moan

"Want my Jinnie to cum"

Fuck I want to cum too

"Yeah princess?"

She nods

"Wwwww....here do you want me to cum?"

"III....inside"

Oh god yes

I slam up into her, trying to make her cum first

"Oh fuck Jin!"

After a few more slams, she screams loudly, her body shaking on top of me as she cums

Her hand is digging into the couch while the one on my leg is gripping me hard

"Seokjin!"

She comes down again and I cum hard inside her, pleasure taking over

"Joanne, oh shit", I yell

"Jinnie, Jinnie, fuck Jinnie", she screams

And I stare in complete shock as she cums again, shaking and sweating so much

Holy shit!

Did she cum from me coming?

Is that possible?

No girl has ever orgasmed from me coming

Only her

That's fucking insane

I lay back on the couch, breathing hard as we finish

She's still on top of me, her head back against the couch back cushions

I watch her chest moving hard up and down as she breaths heavily

Reaching up for her, I move her on top of me, her head on my chest

"I can hear your heart Jinnie. It's beating so fast", she says softly

"You made it that way Jo", I laugh

She giggles too and it's so fucking cute

I play with her hair as we lay on her couch

After a few minutes I hear her breathing evenly

She fell asleep

On me

I can't get up now, I don't want to wake her up

I'll just stay for a little longer before I leave to go home

Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her to me, closing my eyes

[mmarthajones]

Ok at the demand of literally no one, I am so obsessed by the idea of a period drama, honouring the book, drawn out character development and trauma heavy adaptation that I’m going to drop my ideas here. Not at full outline level, bc however stupid I’d love to actually do this one day, but here’s why you should trust me with Dracula(under a read more cut bc this IS going to get long)

I’m going to clarify before I start that I’m almost definitely going to forget stuff but if I were to do this I would have the biggest corkboard with tons of info and ideas on. This is just a flavour of the corkboard.

First thing, format: TV over movie at almost all costs. It’s an epistolary novel with bits and viewpoints and details and far FAR too much stuff for a movie. As many parts as the studio will give you. While adapting it into a movie could be done, it’s just so much better fitting for TV to me.

Genre: see, everyone gets that its gothic horror, that part isn’t in question. The thing most adaptations don’t get straight in their heads is which genres they’re going to borrow other tropes and stuff from. The book is actually a mishmash designed to compliment the horror, and while I’ve nothing against horror movies, a TV series needs more to fill it out. To me, one of the big reasons everyone hates on the Coppola flick is that it draws more from the tropes of other horror movies, but Dracula is *psychological*. This will become important later. 

So what genres am I borrowing from? Period drama. Sure, seemingly the total opposite, but actually that’s the point. If you borrow from the calmness and romanticism of period drama in the quiet moments, it makes the horror all the more horrifying. USE the audience expectations. Romance, bc Jonathan/Mina relationship goals. 

Character development: Oh, so much to say. Jonathan fully established as female gaze hero to start off with. This is not played off as boring. A character arc filled with trauma, at least one solid breakdown, and a portrayal focussed around a solid core of emotional strength. You must be incredibly attached to harmless little Jonathan, so that his trauma harrows you to the core. And then I shall make him go after Dracula with his big knife. You’re welcome.

Mina: Strong female character, but not StrongTM. Strong, supporting literally everyone, putting the bravest face on it. This will only make it more terrible when we see her break down in private. Somehow has Eldest Daughter syndrome without siblings.

Dracula: Oh, Dracula. Yes, I will make you scary again. To my mind, the sexyman Dracula actually undermines the thing that should terrify you most. You don’t go to Dracula because you are drawn in by his charisma. His magnetism is unfair, unwilling, and a complete violation of all that makes you you. He will delight in your struggles, draw it out, undermine you psychologically, all with a smile on his face. This is an ancient master of war tactics, battlefield veteran Dracula. And anything that is played for laughs, any stupid failure, is just serving to underline how unfair the whole thing is, how much he can get away with. A relentless, creeping evil. 

Everyone else: look, I could go on for ages about every single individual person here. Safe to say, I would be trawling the tags for every character essay and taking it all into careful consideration.

Castle Dracula: Yes, I’m making a distinct point of this because it struck me today. This setting will not be played for laughs either. Creaky doors and dramatic organs begone. It will be a place where you should watch every shadow, because it being the Count’s home means something. Seat of his power. It should feel like an extension of him.

Hope: Yes, I’m making its own thing. Jonathan/Mina should be the cutest thing. The quiet moments of any heroic viewpoint should be full of warmth, handholding, hearthsides. A general sense that people are the heart of this, and that with them there, you might be able to get through it. The hope is what makes the horror. Hope, and the lack of it. When Mina gets burnt, it should ripple effect through everyone. Jonathan’s desperation at the return of the Count and the idea of going back to the Castle should be visceral. Just like the book, this series would be made by the quiet moments. 

Ok this got very long and I’ve seen so many great analyses in the Dracula Daily tag that I’m not talking about but wow guys look at this and tell me you don’t want the heart-driven Dracula series. 

(This is also where I tell you this is my first time through the book and I’ve never properly watched any specific Dracula adaptations. But I’ve Heard, yknow?)

[rosemaidenvixen]

Dig your eight graves

Part 1

Ao3

Big thank you to @avirxy they were a huge help with this story and it absolutely wouldn't have gotten off the ground without them.

Strong content warning: this story includes gore and graphic, onscreen deaths. Please take note of the rating and look over the tags carefully before you read to make sure this story is ok for you.

That being said, pleasant reading and Happy Halloween

---

“Come on Pepperjack, everyone knows Halloween was invented by the candy companies,”

“It was not! It’s based on the Celtic festival of Samhain!”

Claire rolled her eyes and went back to reclining against the large stone. It was a lovely day and she had a lovely view; perfect fall weather halfway between warm and crisp, the trees around her rustling with autumnal colors; red and orange and gold. Even Steve and Eli’s squabbling couldn’t ruin it.

“Saw-een? You’re making that up,”

Eli bristled “I am not! Samhain was their harvest celebration and when the ancient Celts believed that that gate to the afterlife was–”

“Dude if I wanted a boring history lesson I would have gone straight to the museum with Mr. Strickler, you totally made sew…in or whatever is up, just like you made up seeing those monsters,”

“I did see monsters! Last month I saw two of them fighting under the canal bridge before one crawled into a drainage pipe and escaped,”

“Pics or it didn’t happen, and since there’s no pics, it didn’t happen,”

Eli’s face turned lobster red, but before he could get another word out Shannon spoke up.

“Ignore him Eli,” she said cooly “He’s just baiting you,”

Eli snapped his mouth shut and glared at Steve, who smirked back at him, before folding his arms and staring daggers down at the ground with an indignant pout on his face “Why are we even here again?”

“Steve wanted to show us where his grandpa smoked pot,” Mary said cheekily.

The smug look dropped off of Steve’s face “He did not,”

“Yes he did,” Toby piped up “Source, my Nana came out here to smoke pot with her buddies in the woods back in the seventies,”

“He did not! Grandpa just found this place while he was hiking, and he came up here to commune with nature and become one with the universe and stuff,”

“That’s secret code for smoking pot,” Jim mumbled.

“Either way it doesn’t look like anyone’s been up here for a while,” Darci nervously eyed a rusty beer can.

Claire was inclined to agree. The clearing was only about twenty feet across in any given direction and nestled deep in the woods. The trail leading to it so overgrown that it would be almost impossible to find unless you knew it was here. 

The border was ringed by medium sized rocks, possibly put in place by bored and/or stoned hippies, and there was a fire pit in the middle slightly sunken and surrounded by smaller stones. Little traces of human presence were here; a candy wrapper by that boulder faded beyond recognition, rusty beer cans scattered everywhere, grass poking through the mound of ash in the fire pit, along with the tops of several beer cans. 

People had definitely been here before, but not for a long time.

“Yeah Nana says that when they opened the planetarium in the eighties all the stoners started going there instead,”

Shannon leaned forward “I heard there was a bunch of cult activity in Arcadia back in the twenties,” her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper “They used the woods to perform their rituals, and police had to bust them up again and again before the cults were eventually forced to leave town,”

“Cults?” Darci’s voice was tight and small.

Mary waved her off “That was forever ago,"

"Yeah," Toby said with a shrug "Cults, hippies, po-tay-to, pa-tah-to, and they both smoke pot,”

“Grandpa didn’t just come here to smoke pot!” Steve’s face was nearly as red as Eli’s had been, voice a hair away from a shout.

“Then why did he come up here Steve?” Toby fired back.

“Well just…it’s a really cool place,” Steve spread his arms, gesturing all around them “My grandpa always said he felt like this place was special, he took my mom here a bunch of times, and then she took me, and I…I wanted to show you guys,”

The surprising amount of vulnerability in Steve’s voice gave Claire pause. For as long as she’d known him Steve had basically been a huge jerk. But this year had been different, he didn’t shove Eli in his locker anymore, he actually pulled his weight on group projects, and it was times like this that she saw just how hard he was trying.

She leaned back against the stone and looked around. And besides this place did feel…special. 

The clearing was just rocks and trees and grass, nothing that they couldn’t find in the rest of the woods surrounding town. But there was a peaceful stillness to this clearing, even though she knew that the town was close by, here Claire felt worlds apart.

“You’re right Steve, this place is special,”

Steve practically glowed at the praise.

Darci shifted uncomfortably “Can we head back now, this feels too much like the start of a horror movie for my comfort,”

Mary just shrugged “Nah, we’re fine for a little longer,”

“I mean a group of teenagers alone in the woods on Halloween, talking about cults and–”

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled “Then the chainsaw wielding maniac comes in and starts randomly picking us off one by one,”

Toby rolled his eyes “Get your facts straight Steve, it wouldn’t be random, the ones who sneak off and make out would be killed first, and then there’d be one final girl at the end,”

“So Lake and Nuñez are definitely going first–”

“Go bite a tree Steve,” Jim said with a scowl.

“So who would be the final girl?”

Toby tapped his chin, looking around the clearing at the rest of them “What do you think ladies, who’d be the last woman standing?”

Mary made a big show of thinking it over, then turned over towards Toby with a wide cheshire grin on her face “We’re all getting out and leaving you boys to die,”

He hissed “Ouch, harsh Mare,”

“Except for Claire, she and Jimmy Jam definitely die first,”

Claire glared at her “Hey–”

“Sorry C-Bomb, but since the two of you started dating you’ve had tunnel vision, you’d be so busy making goo goo eyes at each other you wouldn’t see Mr. Chainsaw until he’s already hacking you apart,”

Despite herself Claire felt her cheeks start to burn “I could be a final girl,”

Mary just flashed an infuriating smirk at her.

Shannon shrugged “All I know is I’d definitely survive, I clawed my way to the treasure’s seat, I could take out one dude with a chainsaw,”

Eli cupped his chin thoughtfully “Yeah you’ve got powerful final girl–”

Mary cleared her throat.

“Or girls, energy, you’d survive for sure, at least until dying in the first ten minutes of the se–”

“Can we please go back now,” a desperate pleading, almost a whine, entered Darci’s voice.

Steve held up his hands “Hey we’re just discussing classic horror tropes,”

“Yeah, like the one about how characters that look like me don't live very long!” she spat bitterly, eyes brimming.

Just like that the upbeat mood was gone.

“Sorry,” Mary mumbled.

Claire got to her feet “Let’s head back, it’s about time anyways,”

They all stood and started heading towards the faint trail at the edge of the cleaning. All of a sudden Eli froze and whipped his head around “Did you guys hear that?”

The look Mary shot at him was murderous “Dude that is so not funny,”

“No really I–” 

The loud snap of a twig echoed from the woods in front of them, all of them instantly going dead silent.

Claire felt her heartbeat kick up a notch, there was no way all of them imagined that, so what was–

“There you are!”

They all shrieked and staggered back.

Coach Lawrence stepped out from behind a tree, nostrils flaring “I let you out for a five minute potty break, and you all sneak off to try and get acquainted with your good friend Mary Jane!?”

“Why does everyone think that…” Steve mumbled.

“We weren’t smoking pot Coach!” Eli piped up defensively.

“Nice try,” Coach folded his arms, still glaring at them “But I know exactly what a stoner hang out spot looks like,”

“How do you know that Coach?”

“I– you– Never mind how I know! Now I want to see all your butts in the van on the double!” 

They trooped along the faint trail back towards the main road and the van parked alongside it, Coach Lawrence muttering to himself the entire time. After they all took their seats and buckled in, crammed elbow to elbow, Coach Lawrence settled into the driver’s seat before turning to face them.

“Now I know you all volunteered to help Mr. Fier with his Fall Fair, but that doesn’t mean you can just run wild. I want all of you on your best behavior; no tricks, no hijinks, no nothing. One whiff of shenanigans from any of you and I will turn this van around! You hear me?”

They all nodded enthusiastically at that, Toby making a zipping motion over his lips. 

Coach gave a soft grunt before turning back and pulling out onto the main road. Claire tugged at the edge of her jacket. The idea of sitting silently in the car for another twenty minutes was unbearable, they were already way out of cellphone range, and bringing up horror movies again seemed like a bad idea, but maybe…

“So what do you guys know about this Mr. Fier?”

“Nothing except for the fact he’s doing this Fall Fair,” Shannon replied.

“I think he also does the Christmas market,” Toby leaned forward “And the 4th of July parade,”

“I know a bit more about him. He sets up this Santa’s Village at the hospital every year, my mom’s talked to him a few times,”

They all turned to look at Jim, he squirmed slightly at the attention but continued “He’s super old, and he owns almost all the buildings downtown, all the trendy restaurants and shops and stuff, he inherited them from his dad who got them from his dad, and I think if you go way way back his great great grandpa or something was one of the original town founders,”

“I read about him!” Eli stretched back from the passenger’s seat, seatbelt straining “Solomon Fier, he was part of the first group of settlers who founded the town in 1875. And he was the one who started the city’s anniversary festival, he hosted the very first one to celebrate the town’s first anniversary,”

“So his family has been hosting these fairs and festivals for over a hundred years?” Darci spoke with genuine interest, her anxiety from minutes ago gone “That’s pretty cool,”

“Well you can ask him all about it yourself,” Coach Lawrence’s voice cut in “Because we’re here,”

Claire scooted to the side and craned her head to see out the window. The van had emerged from the tunnel of trees into a large clearing, absolutely massive compared to the one Steve showed them. The gravel road led up to a large red barn, with several smaller buildings and a white clapboard farmhouse set behind it. And on the far side of the clearing there was a squat yellow structure, which as they got closer, Claire realized was a hay maze.

On the opposite side of the road from the barn were two small fenced in areas. Nothing was inside them, but signs posted outside them read ‘Future pony ride’ and ‘Future petting zoo’.

A couple of large wooden posts stood on either side of the road just a little ways away from the main barn and the fences, where an old gate or sign used to be if Claire had to guess. But instead of a huge sign an old rocking chair had been placed in front of one of the posts, sitting in it was a smiling scarecrow wearing overalls and green flannel with a wide straw hat, holding up a wooden sign that read ‘Welcome to Fier Fall Festival’.

Driving past the scarecrow, Coach pulled the van to a stop and killed the engine, turning and fixing them with his trademark stare as they filed out of the van.

“Alright listen up, let’s go over the game plan one more time. We’re here because Mr. Fier wants your feedback on what he has set up so far, and that’s what we’re going to do; no tricks, no monkey business. And once we’re done you’re all getting back in the van to go to the Pumpkin Ball at the museum, understand?”

They all sounded off with ‘Yes Coach’ although Claire caught Toby, Steve, and Mary rolling their eyes.

Shannon glanced around “Wasn’t Mr. Fier supposed to meet us out here?”

For the first time this afternoon Coach Lawrence’s steely expression flickered into uncertainty “Oh, uh…yes he was. I’m not sure why he’s not here yet,”

Eli wave a hand in the air “You should check your phone Coach,”

Coach grumbled but nevertheless pulled out his phone “Pepperjack we’re in a dead zone, if Mr. Fier had texted me it would have to have been nearly an hour agoooo…”

His eyes practically bugged out as he stared at his phone, gaze shooting back up at them with a sheepish look on his face “New plan. Mr. Fier’s car broke down, so I’ll head back into town, pick him up, and come back here,” he scrambled back into the driver’s seat “And because I can’t fit him and you all in the van, you all will wait here until we get back,”

Abruptly his gaze turned narrow again “You kids will wait right here,” he pointed sharply down at the ground just outside the van “You will stay together at all times, and will not touch anything while I’m gone, you got that?”

‘Yes Coach,’ they chimed again.

Coach gave a tight nod, shooting them one more ‘I’m watching you’ with two fingers before shutting the door and heading the van back the way it came.

They all stood there watching as the van vanished into the tunnel of trees, leaving them standing alone in front of the barn. No one said anything.

For about ten seconds.

“Welp, you buttsnacks stay here if you want,” Steve turned on his heel and started walking into the farm “I’m going to check this place out,” 

“Count me in,”

“I’m in to,”

Toby and Mary broke off from the rest and sped up to join him.

Eli’s jaw dropped, eyes going huge behind his glasses “B– but Coach said we have to stay here!”

“I’m not standing in the parking lot for an hour,” Mary waved him off “And what Coach doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” 

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled “We have this whole place to ourselves, might as well enjoy it,”

Claire, Jim, Darci, and Shannon all glanced at each other, matching giddy looks slowly spreading across their faces, before following after them, leaving Eli gaping in the parking lot.

“Buh– but–”

“Eli it’ll be fine,” Jim called back after him “We’ll just have a look around and be back way before Coach gets back. Besides, sticking together’s the most important thing, right?”

Eli shut his mouth, glancing back and forth between the road where the van disappeared and the rest of them, then dashed to catch up with them.

Jim then turned towards Claire, a shy smile on his face “And maybe before Coach gets back we can have some time to ourselves?”

Claire smiled back at him, reaching out to grasp his hand with her own, feeling a thrill of excitement when his cheeks turned pink as she did.

“I’d like that,”

---

Lawrence let out a sigh of relief as the dirt underneath the van turned to coarse pavement. Then, after quickly checking to make sure he was the only car around, pulled out his phone and dialed.

The other end picked up after just two rings.

“Hello?”

“Hello Mr. Fier, this is Coach Lawrence with Arcadia Oaks,” the words all came out in a rush “I’m so sorry I missed your call earlier, I just dropped the kids off at the farm and I am on my way to pick you up. But don’t worry, they will not touch anythi–”

The voice on the other side of the line let out a hearty laugh ”Oh please don’t worry yourself, let the kids have fun, and my daughter’s in town so don’t worry about keeping me waiting,”

Lawrence held the phone away from his face so his sigh of relief wouldn’t be heard “Really Mr. Fier I can’t thank you enough for being so understanding,”

More laughter “No, thank you, and please call me Sam,”

“Oh, ok…Sam,”

“Really it’s you and the kids doing me a favor, I already have a good idea what the little kids like, but I want to make sure the fair is fun for older kids to. Having your students walk through my trial run and give me their honest feedback is invaluable. I grew up going to harvest festivals all across the east coast, and I want the children of Arcadia Oaks to have the same. And once I get your students’ feedback and make the necessary changes, I can start planning and the Fier Fall Festival will be open to the public next year,”

Lawrence slowly relaxed into his seat, easing up on the gas as the road became twisty, a sure sign that the highway was close “Well I’ll be over as soon as I can to pick you up, and then we can get back out here and get started,”

“Like I said, no reason to break your neck getting here, and the kids can have fun exploring the place by themselves, maybe they’ll even find the surprise I left for them,”

“Surprise?” Lawrence shot up ramrod straight “What kind of surprise?”

The voice on the other end of the phone took on a mischievous lilt “Well if I told you it wouldn’t be much of a surprise now would it?”

He settled back into his seat, keeping his eyes locked on the road. Had to be careful now, there were several sharp turns along some steep inclines here. And with all the trees he couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead at a time “Oh…ok then, I’ll be there soon,”

“See you then,” 

Lawrence hung up the phone, letting out another sigh of relief, turning his focus back to the road. It was really good that Mr. Fier wasn’t upset about Lawrence missing his text, or about the kids having free run of the place for a bit. He might not be on the school board, but it wouldn’t be good to piss off the guy who owned half the town.

Now all he had to do was pick up Fier as quick as he could and head back to where the kids were–

As he rounded a sharp corner he came face to face with a large deer in the road only feet away from him. Lawrence jerked in panic and cranked the wheel hard, he swerved, missing the deer by inches, but sending the van over the side of the road. Lawrence fought to regain control as half the tires went into the dirt, but he’d gone too far off the road and the ground underneath him was too loose. 

The van violently rocked from side to side as it fishtailed along the edge of the road. Leaning far to the side as the tires lost traction against the dirt. 

Abruptly the land on the side of the road dropped off into a steep incline, tires losing purchase and center of gravity giving way, sending the van toppling over the edge of the cliff.

Its momentum shot it forward and down, rolling down the steep hill, rocks and trees tearing at the metal frame, crashing to a stop as it collided with a large tree near the bottom of the embankment in a deafening bang of metal against wood. 

The vehicle lay there crumpled between the hill and the tree, four tires spinning in the air, Lawrence hanging limply from his seat, suspended by his seatbelt, blood dripping from his forehead down onto the windshield. 

Back up on the road the deer hadn’t moved so much as an inch, not even twitching at the near miss from the vehicle.

For a moment things were still, the only movement the slowly rotating tires of the van. Then a figure stepped out of the trees on the opposite side of the road. They walked across the street to the deer, leather boots soft against the pavement, slinging it over their shoulder before turning and going back the way they came. Walking a few yards into the woods, they came to a large black truck and threw the deer shaped archery target in the bed before climbing into the driver's seat. 

Pulling the truck out onto the road from the hidden side street, the driver only spared a brief glance down the embankment before speeding away. Heading back up the road without turning once towards the upturned van, the last of its spinning tires slowly coming to a stop.

---

Claire flicked the switch on the electric tea light, setting it onto the shelf with the others “You know…I don’t think that dog has been house trained,”

“Really?” Jim set down his own candle and stepped over to her “You should report them to the humane society,”

She looked up from the snarling wolf animatronic, stationary without a power source, smirking “You know, I think I will,”

They’d just finished going through the farmhouse, set up as a haunted house. Turning on all the electric candles and giving a running commentary as they went.

Moving towards the door Claire stepped out onto the back porch and into the glow of autumn sunlight, Jim just behind her.

“Let’s go check out the pumpkin canon,” he spoke up “I know Toby said he wanted to figure out how it work,”

“Sounds great,”

They stepped down onto the grass and started walking towards the back of the main barn. As they got closer Claire heard the hiss of compressed air and the ‘thwump’ of it releasing.

She felt a smile slowly stretching across her face “I think he succeeded,” 

Rounding the corner, they came to the main space of the fair. A large clear space ringed with rocks  was slightly off from the center, plastic sign by it reading ‘Future bonfire pit’, directly behind the main barn a massive throne of sorts had been constructed out of hay bales, pumpkins scattered on and around it. Mary occupied the seat, posing and taking selfies with the small pumpkin on her lap. And then on the far edge of the clearing was the pumpkin canon, motor humming, with Darci and Toby standing by it. 

“Pull!” Darci shouted.

Toby yanked a lever, a pumpkin shooting out of the barrel with a ‘fwoom’ arcing over the stretch of clearing before landing with a dull thumb in the distance.

“Hey Tobes, you had enough of tormenting innocent squash?”

“Not even close,”

Mary clutched her pumpkin protectively “You’re prying Penelope out of my cold, dead hands,”

“Hey girls,” Claire smiled at Darci and Mary in turn “You know where everyone else is?”

Darci jerked a thumb behind her towards the double wide trailer “Eli and Shannon are checking out the escape rooms, and Steve’s over at the haunted house,”

“We just came from there, I didn’t see him,”

“Oh,”

“So Shannon and Eli are in the escape room,” Toby called out from where he and Jim were struggling to load a large pumpkin “And none of us have any idea where Steve is,”

“Tobes I don’t think this pumpkin is physically capable of fitting inside the canon,”

“Not with that attitude,”

Mary perched back on her pumpkin throne “Having a good time ladies?”

“Yep,”

“You know it,” Darci glanced towards the front entrance uneasily “But shouldn’t Coach have been back by now?”

That gave Claire pause, a quick glance at her phone told her it had been just over an hour since Coach had left, he should be getting here pretty soon…

Mary waved them off “He probably just stopped to trim his nose hairs or som–”

“Jackpot!”

Claire jumped at the sudden sound of Steve’s voice. Turning to see him walking over dragging a large cooler behind him.

Toby abandoned the large pumpkin, Jim looking all too happy to do so, and walked over to them “What are you talking about?”

“I was checking out some of the concession stands when I found this!” he opened the cooler with a flourish.

Curious, Claire stepped closer to see what was inside.

It looked like a bunch of snacks, which she’d sort of expected with it being a cooler, but this was a lot more than just goldfish and juice boxes. 

Full size candy bars, caramel covered apples, cupcakes, shrink wrapped packages of fudge, even a gallon of apple cider.

 “Yeah I thought about keeping this all to myself,” Steve leaned against the cooler with exaggerated casualness “But this is too much, even more the Palchuk, so I figured why not spread the wealth,”

Darci bounced up and down with barely restrained glee, giddy smile stretched out over her face as she hurried over to kneel in front of the open cooler “Steve you are the best!”

“Totally dude!” Toby joined Darci kneeling in front of the cooler “I take back everything I ever said about you!”

“No big deal I– wait what?” Steve’s smugness flickered as they all gathered in.

Claire rolled her eyes “Thank you Steve, this was really sweet,”

Steve’s smug grin slid back into place.

Jim picked up the gallon of cider out “I’m going to see if I can find some way to heat this up,”

“I’ll go get Eli and Shannon,” Claire and Jim turned and each walked off in opposite directions. Coming up to the double wide, she went around to the side door and gave it a soft knock.

“Shannon, Eli, you in there?”

“Don’t open the door!” Eli’s voice piped up “We have to find our way out ourselves, escape room code!”

“We found fudge and candy apples,”

“....please open the door,”

Claire complied, letting the two of them out, all three of them heading back to where Mary, Darci, and Toby were already divvying up the snacks with Steve standing by.

“I’ll take the white chocolate candy apple,” 

“Ooh gimmie one of the cupcakes with chocolate frosting!”

“Hey save some peanut butter fudge for the rest of us!”

As the three of them came up towards the cooler, Claire saw Jim approaching with his arms full and a big grin on his face.

“Cups, a kettle, and a battery operated hot plate. We have cider,”

Claire settled on the ground as they finished distributing the snacks between all eight of them, Jim getting the cider set up.

Soon they were all sitting on the ground and assorted hay bales, no sounds except for their munching on snacks and occasional sips of cider.

Wiping the fudge crumbs carefully off her face, Mary selected a shiny red candy apple and leaned back to take a selfie with it.

Darci gave her an unimpressed look “Do you have to do that every time we eat out?” 

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,”

Toby looked between the two of them, then pulled out his own phone, slung an arm around Jim’s shoulder, and flashed a gigantic smile.

“Smile for the camera,” Toby said while raising phone and his cider in a cheer “Here’s to our best Halloween ever,”

Jim started for a moment before raising his own cup and flashing a smile as Toby clicked a picture of the two of them.

Claire felt her own lips twitch, grinning and holding her cupcake up to her cheek while she snapped her own picture.

Darci threw her head back and let out an aggravated groan “You guys are literally the worst,”

Mary smirked at her while she took a picture of Steve and Eli ‘dueling’ with their candy apples “Jealous?”

Toby nodded sagely “She’s totally jealous,”

“Ugghhh!”

Shannon smiled and reached into her own pocket, but the second her hand went in the smile dropped off her face.

“Shoot, I lost my phone,”

All of them turned towards her.

“Where’d you see it last?” Eli asked.

Abruptly Shannon sat up bolt upright “I had it in the hay maze, and I took out to take pictures,” she got to her feet “I’ll check for it there,”

Claire set aside her cupcake “Want us to come help you look?”

Shannon waved her off “I got it, the maze wasn’t too hard so I should be quick,”

She turned and jogged off towards the hay maze, the others watching her go until she vanished around the side of the barn.

Coming to a stop at the entrance of the maze, Shannon paused to pull in a deep breath and headed in. She took the maze slow and steady. Keeping a hand on the left wall, surveying the various rows and glancing down corridors on either side of her for any trace of her phone. 

Ten minutes of careful searching passed without any trace of her phone, but she refused to let that worry her.

This maze was big and twisty, and she’d only covered a third of it, she still had a lot left to search before her missing phone became panic worthy.

Shannon glanced left and right as she passed by the different hay aisles.

No phone, no phone, no phone, no pho–

There!

She skidded to a stop, backtracking two steps. Down the aisle to her right there was a small black rectangle that could only be her phone, sitting on a large ‘chair’ of hay bales less than twenty feet away. A small sigh of relief escaped her, Shannon did not want to have to go to her parents about another lost phone, as she turned and headed towards it.

Approaching the hay chair, Shannon leaned down and picked up her phone, and looking closer it was indeed her phone, sliding it back into her pocket with no small amount of satisfaction. 

She raised a foot to turn and go back to the others, when she heard a soft snap from behind her. Shannon gave a little start, foot still poised halfway off the ground. Did one of the other kids follow he–

Something flew in front of her face, crushing pressure enveloping her throat.

Her body reacted faster than her brain. Limbs flailing a blind panic, clawing at her neck and kicking out at anything her feet could reach.

Blood pounded in her ears, lungs burning for air, the unyielding pressure wrapping around her neck tighter and tighter not letting so much as a gasp escape.

Even in her frenzied haze she could see the shadow of a person standing behind her, two hands pulling the cord tighter around her throat.

I’m being strangled, someone’s strangling me–

Shannon fought to regain her bearings even while her body was still in panic mode. Trying to direct her kicks and punches towards the figure behind her. An elbow to the gut, a kick to the shins.

Anything to get them to loosen their grip.

It felt like her head was going to explode, bright spots of light burning in her eyes, lungs aching for air. 

She might as well be fighting back against stone. The person behind her didn’t move, unflinching against her blows, pulling the cord around her neck tighter and tighter.

The pressure in her skull was nearly unbearable, the blazing spots swallowing up all her vision. Any lucidity she had left was burned away in animalistic terror, clawing madly at her neck, desperate to make this stop–

The blinding lights in her eyes began fading away into darkness. Panic flared at what that meant only to be instantly sucked away into the blackness that was claiming all sensation. Shannon was vaguely aware of her hands falling limply away from her neck, legs going slack, static in her ears. 

One final thought bubbled to the surface before her mind was completely consumed by oblivion.

I’m going to die here.

---

Claire bit her lip, amber sunlight filtering through the trees. 

“Maybe we should try calling hi–”

“We’ve tried calling him!” Mary’s voice was a shrill snap, barely masking her panic “In case you’ve forgotten we’re in a dead zone!”

Coach should have been back over an hour ago. The sun was well and truly setting, filtered into a dusky glow by the forest, and Shannon had been gone for a long time. 

She knew in the pit of her gut that something had gone wrong, definitely with Coach,  and maybe Shannon to.

The jovial mood from earlier was gone, stark tension taking its place. Being alone here wasn’t fun anymore. And Claire couldn’t help but wonder if she was the only one whose mind kept cycling back to their talk of horror movies.

Either way no one was cracking jokes anymore. All flickering their gazes back and forth between the road Coach was supposed to drive up on, and the steadily setting sun. Waiting for something to happen.

Then Jim stood up. 

“Shannon’s been gone too long, we need to go look for her,” 

Mary shot to her feet alongside him, looking relieved at the chance to do something “Agreed,”

Claire was standing next to them less than a second later.

“We should all go together,” Toby added “I don’t think we should be splitting up right now,”

The others all got to their feet and joined them, except for Eli. 

He shot a stubborn glare up at them, folding both arms across his chest and firmly settling into his seat on the hay bale.

“I’m staying right here,”

Claire looked over at the others, the same uncomfortable look bouncing across the six of them. Darci broke away and took half a step towards him “Eli…I really don’t think we should split up like this,”

“Well tough, I’m not going anywhere, so if you guys don’t want to split up, stay here.”

“Shannon could be hurt or stuck somewhere,” Toby fired back, narrowing his gaze at him “And you’re more worried about getting in trouble than helping her?”

“You can tell Coach we made you come with us,” Jim added “But we shouldn’t leave you or Shannon all alone out here,”

Eli’s expression wavered, a shadow of uncertainty passing over his face, before hardening “It’s bad enough I let you guys convince me to wander off in the first palace, and eat the snacks Steve stole. I’m sure Shannon just got lost in the maze, and Coach is going to be back any minute, you guys do what you want, but I’m not going to move from this spot until he gets here!”

By the end Eli was practically shouting at them, all of them staggering back a little. Stunned at the normally meek Eli losing his cool.

Claire was torn, she knew deliberately leaving Eli by himself wasn’t right. But Shannon could be in desperate need of help, while Eli was just being stubborn.

“We’re going to go look for Shannon,” Claire said at last “Wait here and we’ll be right back,”

Her words seemed to give everyone the permission they were waiting for. Turning and heading towards the hay maze, all of them shooting tentative glances back at Eli as they went. But not slowing down.

Eli kept his mouth fixed into a firm frown, glaring at their retreating backs until he disappeared as they went around the barn.

“Yo Shannon, are you in here!” Toby shouted as they came up to the maze.

No reply.

“Well uh…looks like we’re doing this the old fashioned way,” Steve let out a nervous chuckle.

“Let’s stick together in here,” Darci said, tone forcibly light “If we split up things will just get even more confused,”

“Sounds good,”

“Works for me,”

“Definitely,”

“Let’s do it,”

Claire nodded her head, the six of them heading down their first turn into the maze.

They searched the corn maze as methodically as they could, someone going to examine every twist and dead end, without ever leaving the sight of the group, constantly calling out Shannon’s name, but even after almost ten minutes of searching there was no sight or sound of Shannon.  

Steve lingered by a group of haybales stacked into the shape of a chair “You guys think she’s mad at us, she has to, like, just be ignoring us….right?”

Claire tried to tamp down her steadily rising nerves. In theory it was possible that Shannon had slipped out of the maze without them seeing, but where would she go without telling them? And this farm was big but not that big so why wasn’t she answering when they called? 

Mary walked back to the group from the short dead end she was exploring “Let’s go to the beginning, try taking a different tu–”

An ear splitting shriek cut through the air, all of them involuntarily whirling towards the source of the sound.

Steve was scrambling backwards from the hay chair, face deathly pale and trembling all over.

Claire hurried over to him “What is it, what’s wrong?”

Steve didn’t say anything, jaw working up and down, skin chalky, raising a shaking finger to point at the hay chair. Claire stepped over to it to try see what had Steve so–

Her heart stopped.

Steve hadn’t been pointing at the chair, he’d been pointing at what was behind it.

From behind her she heard the others scream and stagger back, Claire herself couldn’t move, paralyzed by the sight in front of her.

Laying crumpled in a heap behind the hay bales was Shannon. Her eyes were blood red, staring sightlessly up at the sky. Deep claw marks had been gouged into her neck, from where she must have tried to tear away at the electrical cord still wrapped tightly around her throat.

“Is she– is she, dead?” Toby squeaked.

Mary shoved Jim forward “Your mom’s a doctor– check her pulse or something!”

Jim stumbled towards Shannon, he hesitated in front of her for a few seconds, before bending down to press two fingers against her neck. He looked up, face grave, and gave a single shake of the head.

That small action set the group a buzz with chatter, voices rising in pitch and intensity.

They all washed over Claire in a haze of noise, eyes still focused on Shannon–

Her dead body

In front of her. Heart pumping icy cold blood through her body with each drum-like beat.

Shannon couldn’t really be dead. This had to be a trick, or a prank or something. She’d been snacking and chatting with them just half an hour ago.

Before she even realized what was doing Claire was stepping around the hay chair to kneel in the dirt right next to Shannon.

This had to be a prank, a hoax, she knew Jim wouldn’t joke like that but he probably just made a mistake. Just because his mom was a doctor didn’t mean he knew exactly how to check for a pulse.

“Shannon?” Claire leaned in close “Get up this isn’t funny any more,”

Shannon didn’t so much as twitch.

The chill beneath her skin dropping a dozen degrees, Claire reached out to grab her wrist.

“C’mon Sha–”

The words shriveled and died in Claire’s throat.

Shannon’s wrist hung limp and lifeless, dead weight in her hand. Her skin cool, far too cool, to the touch.

There wasn’t any way she could be faking this.

Shannon was dead.

She scrambled back from the corpse–

That’s what she was now a corpse

The voices around her come back into focus with a pop.

“There aren’t even any mental hospitals around here!”

“Which is why I’m saying this has to be the guy who owned the farm!”

“But why the fuck would he want to kill us!? What did we do!?”

Claire all but stomped to her feet and whirled on the others “It doesn’t matter!”

They all jerked back, stunned into silence by Claire’s sudden outburst.

“It doesn’t matter who killed Shannon or why. What matters is that they’re here, they killed her, and now we’re all in danger. So what are we going to do about it?”

Everyone glanced around at each other uncertainly.

“We need to find somewhere secure to hunker down,” Darci said at last “Barricade ourselves in one of the buildings until Coach comes back,”

“No, what we need to do is get out of here, now.” Toby said with no small amount of force “The longer we hang around the more chances we have of this psycho finding us,”

“Agreed,” Mary added “We’re close to the woods right here, so I say we tear through the haybales towards the edge and then book it into the forest and head towards town,”

“What!?” Steve squeaked out ”There’s a psycho murderer here and you want to run into the dark spooky woods!?”

“It’s not like we’ve got a lot of options here!” Toby snapped.

“I’m with Steve one hundred percent,” Darci folded her arms “Running off to stumble through miles of dark woods doesn’t seem like a good idea,”

“And waiting here like sitting ducks is!?” Mary spat, face red.

“So your answer is to take us into the woods to get picked off one by one!?” Steve shot back.

“Oh like you–”

“Enough!” Claire shouted the word with enough force that everyone fell silent again.

She shut her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. Running through the different options in her mind “Toby and Mary are right, we need to get into the woods ASAP,”

“But–”

“I know it’s dangerous,” Claire cut Daric off “But staying would be worse. Coach should have been here over an hour ago, something went wrong and we can’t count on anyone coming to help us. Staying here just means that Shannon’s killer knows exactly where we are, and bottom line there’s no where here we can hunker down that the killer couldn’t set on fire,”

Darci shut her mouth, skin going ashy.

“I don’t want to run around the woods in the dark any more than you do, but at least whoever did this will have a harder time finding us there. And I’d rather deal with maybe a murderer in the woods than definately a murderer here,”

Dead silence settled over the six of them, tension crackling in the air.

“You’re right,” Darci’s voice cracked “We need to–”

“Oh my god,” Jim spoke up in a hushed whisper, eyes going wide “Eli!”

A fresh wave of shock rippled through the group.

Darci scrambled towards him, both of them whirling on the rest of them “He’s all alone,” her voice was shrill with panic “We have to go back for him!”

No one moved, Mary and Toby sharing a look.

Jim glanced back and forth between the two of them, clearly picking up on some nonverbal cue “Guys, what are you–”

“I think we need to make a break for it,” Mary said at last “Without Eli,”

Four jaws simultaneously fell open.

“Chances are Eli’s dead already,” Mary said stonily “And if we go back for him we’ll just get killed to,”

“What!?” Darci all but shrieked “We can’t just leave him behind!”

Toby shifted from foot to foot, gaze pointed down at the ground “If there’s a killer on the loose who’s picking us off one by one when we go off alone then Eli’s probably–”

“You don’t know that!” Jim fired back “If there’s a chance that Eli’s hurt and scared and we can still help him we have to try!” 

No one moved, a tense standoff forming, Darci and Jim on one side and Toby and Mary on the other. Steve whipped his head from side to side at each of them, jaw gaping open and shut with no sound coming out.

Claire looked back and forth between the two groups, weighing the decision in her mind, going back and forth before making her choice..

She moved to stand by Jim and Darci “If there’s a chance we can still save Eli we have to try,” she met Mary and Toby’s eyes in turn “We’d do the same for either of you,”

Toby and Mary wavered, glancing at each other.

“Ok…” Mary said softly “We’ll go back for him,”

“But no messing around in the maze,” Toby added “We knock the hay bales over and make straight for the entrance,”

“But….what about Shannon?” Steve’s gaze flickered back over behind the hay chair, face turning green and staggering back “We can’t just…leave her like this?”

“We can’t carry her Steve,” Mary’s voice was hollow “And I didn’t know Shannon too well, but I know she was pragmatic, she wouldn’t want us to risk our necks when she’s already beyond saving,”

Claire couldn’t help but flinch at that.

“But…” Steve eyed the chair again, expression pained.

“I– I got it,” Jim stepped around the stack of hay, reached down, and unwound the electrical cord from her neck, throwing it to the far end of the aisle. He pulled off his jacket, gently laying it over Shannon’s face and torso before standing back upright, face pale and hands shaking “Let’s go,”

Claire nodded at him before looking over to the rest of them “Toby and I will take point, Jim Mary, do you mind bringing up the rear and keeping an eye on our backs?”

“Got it,”

“Can do,”

“Great, Steve Darci, you stay in the middle and be ready for anything,”

Steve managed to squeak out an ‘ok’ while Darci’s only response was a tense nod.

They cut through the hay maze, Claire and Toby tearing bales aside to clear a straight line towards the entrance, Jim and Mary followed in last, constantly looking behind them and occasionally pulling some hay bales aside to cover their trail, with Steve and Darci nestled in the center.

Soon, far too soon, they stood at the entrance of the maze, lingering. The maze wasn’t safe, they’d just proven anyone could knock down the walls, and there was a good chance Shannon’s killer could still be lingering inside. But nothing bad had happened to them in the maze, now there was a sense of security to it, however irrational. No one wanted to leave to pseudosecurity of the maze to face the unknown.

But Eli was out there.

Claire swallowed.

The only way out is forward, dragging your feet is just going to put everyone in more danger. You have to keep going. 

“It’s just a straight shot and then one turn to the front of the barn. We’ll keep the same formation; Toby and I up front, Mary and Jim watching our backs and Steve and Darci keeping an eye on our sides,”

She forced herself to take a step outside the maze, a distance of less than two feet that felt like a thousand miles, then turned back to the others “We go in, grab Eli, and then book it straight into the woods,”

No one moved, all of their faces were pinched with various levels of panic and terror. Then Darci pulled in a deep breath and took a step after her. The others followed.

They moved quickly, a tight knot of people hustling towards the barn constantly surveying their surroundings in every direction. Searching the rapidly growing shadows of the deserted farm for any sign of a threat. It was less than a five minute walk to the front, but it seemed to stretch so much longer. Every step closer to their destination ratcheting Claire’s heartbeat up another notch.

Towards the fire pit, past the pumpkin throne, around the other side of the barn to where it faced the parking lo–

They stopped in their tracks, Claire’s stomach dropping, from behind she heard several soft gasps.

Eli wasn’t here, the hay bale he’d been sitting on, all the hay bales heaped in front of the barn were empty.

“Pepperjack?” Steve called out hesitantly “You here?”

They spread out among the bales, scanning all around them for any sign or trace of Eli.

“Come on out dude,” Toby this time “If you’re trying to get back at us you totally did it,”

Claire fought to keep her breathing under control, even while she couldn’t stop her mind from bracing itself for another sight like Shannon in the maze.

The only reason Eli wouldn’t be here was if something happened. They left him alone and the same person who got Shannon got him and–

She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood.

Stop working herself up and assuming the worst, Eli probably just stepped out to go to the bathroom. They were going to find him and then they would all get out of he–

“Oh– oh god–” Darci let out a strangled sob.

Claire snapped her gaze over towards her, seeing Darci with both hands pressed against her mouth with an expression of abject terror, and followed her line of sight to–

Her heart stopped for the second time today.

Ten feet inside the barn there was a steel tub, despite the thicker shadows inside she could see the glimmer of water filling the tub to the brim. Hanging over the side, face down and completely motionless in the water was Eli. Even through the dusky gloom she could see water dripping from his limp fingertips to land soundlessly on the dirt floor.

All around her the others screamed and shrieked with distress. Claire herself couldn’t make a sound if she wanted to, pulled by some nameless forced to step closer to Eli–

His corpse, another corpse.

She stared down at him, a dull roaring in her ears.

How long ago did this happen, did the killer pounce on him the second we left, could we have saved him if we were just a little faster.

Ears filling with static, she reached out to pull Eli from the tub. Maybe it wasn’t too late to save him, maybe they could still do CPR or something and bring him around. And even if he was dead they couldn’t just leave him like thi–

“Claire look out!”

She snapped her head up, whirling around towards–

The breath was knocked from her lungs.

A figure lurked near the wall of the barn, maybe they’d been there this whole time, with their all black outfit they blended seamlessly into the shadows. Long sleeved black shirt, black jeans tucked into black black boots. Even a pair of black leather gloves. The only color on them was the rubber clown mask they wore, white latex, a rubber fanged grin with a tuft of red polyester hair sticking straight up.

And the shining silver butcher knife they held in their hand. 

Claire knew, knew all the way down to her bones, even while the rest of her mind was screaming in panic, that this was the person who’d killed Shannon and Eli.

And they were going to kill her to.

Clown face stepped towards her, knife raised and ready to be brought down with lethal intent.

Claire couldn’t move, couldn’t breath, frozen in place even while her instincts were screaming at her to run–

Toby didn’t have that problem.

He let out a primal cry of rage, charging the clown face with a large rock in his hand.

Clown face whirled and stabbed down at him, Toby sidestepped at the last second and tackled clown face to the ground, not wasting a second and bringing the rock down hard against the clown’s temple, again and again. 

Seeing Toby rushing in broke the spell and spurred the rest of them into action. 

Jim tackled clown face’s other arm, pinning them completely to the ground while Claire kicked the knife away. Mary ran up and stomped on clown face’s groin as hard as she could again and again, her and Toby pummeling them from either end. Steve and Darci stepped in closer, but otherwise hung back and watched them go to town.

After what seemed like an eternity, Toby stopped pounding at clown face with the rock, the hand holding it still raised and ready to bring down again, panting.

Clown face lay there on the ground unmoving, Toby had been bashing him so hard with the rock that maybe…

Mary took a step back “Is he…”

“I…I think so,” Toby got off of him with shaky steps “But just to be safe let’s find some rope and– hnk”

Something hot and wet hit Claire in the face, hand going to her cheek involuntarily, it came away red.

She spun to the side only to see Toby sinking to the ground, a gaping hole in his neck.

Another clown face was standing behind him, same black pants and shirt, three tufts of green hair and blue diamonds over their rubber eyes.

And a bloody scythe in their hand.

The whites of Jim’s eyes bulged inside of his blood spattered face.

“Toby!”

Claire grabbed Jim by the arm and yanked him back to where the others were clustering up together.

On the ground the first clown face slowly rose to his feet, reaching over to retrieve his knife– 

He was getting up, how was he possibly getting up, even if he wasn’t dead Toby and Mary had beaten him so much he had to be at least a little injured, how could he possibly just get back up?

They’d been so focused on the killer clown in front of them that they hadn’t noticed another one sneaking up behind them. Claire had thought only one person was doing this but she was wrong, there wasn’t just one killer, there were at least two, maybe even–

She whirled around frantically, trying to see if there were any–

There, another clown face outside, fringe of blue hair and a wide red grin on his mask, steadily approaching the barn entrance.

A machete in hand.

Three killers– at the least, maybe even more, laying in wait, boxing them in from all sides. 

This wasn’t a spree, it was a hunt.

“Run,” Claire whispered.

They booked it, Claire pushing her way to the front, dragging the sobbing Jim behind her. Leading them all away from the macheted clown before they could be surrounded “Follow me guys, I’ve got a plan,”

Did she, did she really? Was this really a plan or just a flimsy, half baked idea thrown together with adrenaline and desperation?

But she needed to do something–

Inaction would only get them all killed.

Whether because they believed her or she was the only one giving orders, or maybe they were just acting on instinct now, they followed Claire as she ran towards the haunted farmhouse. Running up the porch steps, tearing open the door, and shoving Jim inside, the rest of them rushing in after. As soon as they were all inside she stepped in and slammed the door shut behind her, grabbing the coat rack and a chair and an end table– throwing whatever she could in front of the door to barricade it. At some point she noticed that Steve had joined her, grabbing the heaviest objects he could and piling them up to try and bar the door. Behind her she was vaguely aware of the sound of Darci consoling Jim.

“Toby would have wanted you to live, you’ve gotta keep going for his sake,”

The image of Toby with his throat slashed open flashed in her mind, a phantom spray of blood on her cheek. The real blood now dry and tacky against her skin.

It had been bad enough, more than bad, terrifying, horrific, to stumble across Shannon and Eli dead. But to actually see Toby being…

A wave of nausea hit her, but instead of crashing it rose higher and higher.

Just a little while ago they’d all been hanging together chatting and laughing, now three of them were de–

The manic fear crescendoed, Claire’s body could barely contain it. 

Who are these people, why are the doing this to us, why are they doing this why are theydoingthiswhyaretheydo

Claire squeezed her eyes shut, studs digging into her palms as she threw the end table against the door. Forcing the panic deep down past her stomach, all the way to the bottoms of her feet, putting herself on top of it.

It didn’t matter who these people were or why they were doing this.

They were here. They were killing them.

That was all that mattered.

As she grounded herself the sounds of the others around her came back into focus.

Steve huffing and puffing as he labored alongside her, Jim and Darci’s sniffles, and Mary’s quiet shushing.

Just like that there was nothing left to throw at the door, Claire and Steve stopped and stepped back. Claire allowing herself one more deep breath.

Claire needed to get it together. Running around in a panic like frightened rabbits was the worst thing to do right now. If they were going to survive she needed to keep a clear head. Calm, controlled, rational. 

Their survival depended on it.

“That’s not going to hold them for long…” Steve said slowly.

“It doesn’t have to, just long enough to slow them down,”

“Uh Claire, I hate to poke holes in your master plan,” the sarcasm Mary’s voice barely masking her terror “But there are only two ways in or out of here, all the killer clowns have to do is have one of them stand outside the exit and we’re trapped,”

“Not exactly,” Claire turned to face them “There’s a root cellar in the basement, saw it from the outside, I think we can get into it through the kitchen, if we can get there we can escape out the basement and book it to the woods before the clowns ever spot us,”

None of them said anything to that, and how could they really. It didn’t matter if it was a good or bad plan, it was their only option.

“Let’s go,” Jim said, cheeks and voice wet “I know the way,”

They moved to the next room, Jim in the lead and Claire right behind him. The first room off the front entrance was the dining room, the majority of the space taken up by a long wooden table, half a dozen chairs set up around it. The table had been set up with props for the ‘food’. Dishes of eyeballs and severed fingers, a bowl of rotting fruit and a severed head on a tray. All made more haunting by the light of the electric candles.

The chairs were occupied by dummies. Most looking like farmers with gruesome injuries, a bashed in skull, a saw blade sticking out of a chest, but there were a few skeletons and zombies mixed in.

But thankfully no clowns.

They crept around the table, keeping their backs to the wall as they edged around the room.

Everything they were looking at was plastic and latex, Claire knew that, she’d seen all of this earlier when she and Jim had gone through the house.. But in the wake of everything that had happened, there was a new sinister edge to the display in front of them.

Worst of all was the chair at the head of the table. Seat empty, pulled out to face them, hanging from the top was a sign written in jagged, sloppy letters.

‘Room for one more’

Her guts gave a painful twist.

They all skirted past the final chair silently, creeping into the next room, Claire forcing herself to turn her back to the dining room and face what was aheaad. 

The next room was the living room. Wine colored couches and chairs, fake cobwebs stretched over every surface, upside down crosses and pentagrams on the walls, tall flickering candles on the tables and mantle, and a portrait of a pale, dour faced man in a black robe hanging over the fireplace.

Just through this room, down the hall, then into the kitchen. From the kitchen they should be able to find a way into the cellar. Then from the cellar they should be able to slip out past the clown faces. Then all they had to do was lose them in the woods, and the–

“Did you guys hear that?”

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks.

“I just…” Darci glanced nervously from side to side “I thought I heard a creak or something,”

No one moved. Completely still and dead silent standing in the gruesome parlor. 

Nothing but silence radiated through the house, not even their breathing, all standing completely still and waiting for something to happen.

After a few more moments of dead quiet Jim hesitantly took half a step forward “I think that was probably just the house set–”

In a blur of motion a figure jumped out from behind the couch, charging towards Jim with a flash of silver. 

Claire’s ears and throat burned as they all screamed, Jim staggering back, both hands pressed to his belly, blood spilling out between his fingers. Clown face charged forward, raising the bloody butcher knife, but before he could bring it down again Steve slammed his shoulder into the clown’s chest and knocked him to the ground.

The two of them wrestled on the ground, Steve kicking the knife away and trying to pin him to the floor “Go!” he shouted, struggling against the squirming clown “I’ll be right behind you!”

Darci and Mary pulled Jim back and slung an arm over each of their shoulders, dragging him with them through the room to the exit. Claire was right on their heels, lingering by the doorway even as the three made their way down the hall. Fingers gripping the edge of the frame, watching Steve struggle against the clown “Come on Steve let’s go!”

He twisted and thrashed, each of them fighting to gain leverage over the other. Then in a surge of strength Steve bodily shoved the clown off of him and staggered to his feet, charging towards Claire.

He sprinted towards the door, but before he could reach her clown face grabbed his ankle and yanked him back with all his might, leaving Claire to helplessly watch in horror as Steve toppled towards the fireplace.

The fireplace was old and cold, there hadn’t been an actual fire in it for over sixty years, maybe even longer.

But the cast iron grate was still there, and the spikes were still very sharp.

Steve’s back hit the grate with a wet, sickening crack. Bent over it at an unnatural angle with two spikes piercing through his chest, blood soaking into the fabric around them. 

“Steve!”

Claire stood there, frozen in horror, Steve twitching on the grate.

A faint groan came from off to the side. She whirled to see clown face slowly but surely getting to his feet. 

She needed to get Steve out of here, take the whole grate if she had to–

But could she carry that much, even just Steve on his own? And even if she could, was Claire capable of moving both of them fast enough?

And even if she could carry him, moving him would make his injury worse, and with a wound like that would he even live long enough to get to a hospital? 

She needed to leave him. 

Steve was dead already.

But she couldn’t just abandon him, this wasn’t like the others. Steve was right here, he was alive and moving, Claire couldn’t just–

From across the room the two locked eyes. Steve coughed, a trickle of blood coming out, then his mouth soundlessly formed the shape of a word.

‘Go’ 

Claire didn't move, jaw working open and shut. She couldn’t– wouldn't leave Steve behind, they’d already lost Shannon and Eli and Toby–

Clown face was on his feet, stepping over to retrieve his knife.

Steve spasmed, hacking up more blood, his expression turned pleading ‘Go’.

Claire’s vision blurred, eyes brimming. 

One way or another Steve was already dead. Leaving him behind was the only option. He knew that and he was telling her it was ok.

But it still tore her up inside.

With a sob Claire turned and sprinted down the hallway after Mary and Darci, leaving Steve to his fate.

---

Steve watched Claire vanish through the door. Relief washing over him, but not enough to drown out the agony. 

His whole chest was a blaze of pain, more stabbing through him with every heartbeat, lungs burning, every little twitch and motion sending fresh bolts of agony through him. But just in his chest, he didn’t feel anything below that. Not just ‘no pain’, nothing, not his feet, not his legs, nothing. He tried to wiggle his toes but nothing happened.

They said that’s how you knew you were hurt really bad.

His body gave another painful spasm, mouth filling with a coppery taste he knew had to be blood.

Steve didn’t want to die, he didn’t want it to be game over at fifteen. There was so much he still hadn’t seen, so much he wanted to do. 

But at least in the end he hadn’t been useless.

The second things had gotten bad, no– his whole life, Steve had just been dead weight for everyone.

He hadn’t done anything to stop Shannon and Eli from going off alone and getting killed. And he’d been a coward and wanted to ditch Eli and make a break for it, Darci and Jim were the ones who made them go back for Eli.

Claire was the one who came up with the ultimate escape plan. The rest of them jumping into action to follow her lead without hesitation while Steve just stood there like a useless lump.

Toby had charged the killer without wasting a second, getting killed because Steve was too stupid to watch their backs….

He heard rather than saw, moving his neck right now or even moving at all, wasn’t going to happen, the killer clown walking over to him. Staring down at Steve with an utterly blank stare, or maybe not, that was a mask, not his actual face.

At least in the end he was able to help the others get away, at least he’d gone out doing something useful and hadn’t dragged anyone else down with him.

He might be a goner, but the others would be ok, they were going to get out of here. That was something, right?

The killer grabbed a fire poker and raised it high above his head.

Steve felt his eyes brimming, even as more blood filled his mouth.

He didn’t want to die.

The poker came down hard against his skull.

---

Claire sprinted down the hallway, choking on her tears, rushing into the kitchen through the entryway.

The others were already here, Mary and Darci were tearing the room apart, shoving aside dummies and props and ripping away faux bloodstained sheets. In contrast Jim was still, leaning against the counter with one hand pressed to his abdomen, face pale and t-shirt stained with red. 

They whirled at Claire rushing into the kitchen, marginally relaxing when they saw it was her.

“Where’s Steve?” Darci asked.

The only sound Claire could manage was a strangled sob.

All three of their faces turned grim as the realization sank in.

Mary shuddered once and then it was back to business “We think that the entrance to the cellar’s in the floor, help us lift up this rug,”

Claire got down on her knees next to Darci and Mary, lifting the thin, stiff carpet to expose shriveled wooden floorboards. They rolled the carpet away, an injured Jim watching from the side, exposing more and more floor, and finally–

“Here,” Darci pushed aside a section of carpet, revealing a wooden square cut into the floor, fixed with a large brass ring.

She and Claire grabbed the ring and pulled. The door opened with an ear splitting creak, a puff of stale, musty air filling the room, below was a rickety ladder propped against the side, descending into the darkness beyond.

Mary grasped Jim’s shoulder and gently tugged him towards the trapdoor “Let’s go,” Claire watched the three of them descend into the cellar one at a time, and once Jim disappeared from her line of sight she followed. Climbing down the ladder and shutting the trapdoor behind her, descending into the darkness below.

She didn’t see any of the clown faces on their immediate heels, but she couldn't assume they weren’t following.

They still had a chance to take them by surprise and give them the slip, but their window was slim and getting narrower by the second. They needed to move fast and get out of here.

She caught a glimpse of Jim, both hands locked against his bleeding belly, her stomach pinching dangerously at the sight.

And get Jim to a hospital.

Unlike the rest of the house the basement was old and decrepit and dusty in an authentic and not intentional way. And because she and Jim hadn’t come through earlier and turned on the electric candles, the only light came from Mary and Darci’s phone flashlights.

Claire pulled her own phone out and turned on the light. Bouncing it around the dark space until she spotted the cellar doors.

“There’s the exit, we may have to bust it open so let’s be ready to–”

“Claire, wait,”

They all turned towards Darci, who was eyeing the cellar doors suspiciously “One of those guys was already in here waiting for us, what if they set up another ambush outside?”

Ice water crashed over Claire, now eyeing the door like she would a nest of poisonous snakes, imagining one of the clowns waiting just on the other side.

“Then…what do we do?” Jim croaked out.

Heartbeat in her throat, Claire frantically bounced her light around the small space. There had to be another way out, a third option, something she just wasn't seeing, there had to–

She froze as her light caught something shiny, and when she realized what it was, hope surged.

“Over there!” Claire pointed towards a small door set high on the wall, metal slide leading up to it “I think it’s an old coal chute, that’s our way out,”

Mary rushed forward to join Claire at the shut, Darci letting Jim lean on her as they stepped up themselves. The light of their phones flashing on the metal as they pointed it up towards the door.

“Darc, C-bomb, you guys head out first so you can pull Jim up while I give him a boost, I’ll follow behind him,”

“I– I can–” Jim spat up a mouthful of blood.

Something cold and heavy sank in Claire’s gut “You just take it easy Jim, we’ll get you to the hospital in no time,”

Jim’s only response was a tight nod.

Claire opened her mouth to ask if Darci wanted to head out first–

What if they set up another ambush outside?

The words shriveled and died in her throat.

“Wh– why don’t I go first,”

Darci’s eyebrows raised, sharing a quizzical look with Mary “Oh…ok,”

Claire knew if she dragged this out she was never going to do it so she got down on her belly and started shimmying up the chute without wasting another second.

She pushed open the metal door, wincing at the load creak, and peeked out. In the brief time they’d been inside the daylight had faded away to almost nothing. But even through the dusk she could see that the area behind the farmhouse was vacant.

“All clear guys,” Claire pulled herself up and out through the metal door, bellycrawling onto the grass, as soon as she was clear she turned and reopened it, extending a hand down “Come on, I’ll pull you up,”

Darci’s ascent was fast, crawling up the chute and out the door to join Claire on the grass in less than ten seconds. 

Through the cracked door Claire could hear Mary’s voice wafting up from the basement.

“Come on Jimmy Jam you’re up,”

Claire and Darci flanked the door, holding it wide open and each of them extending a hand down as far as they could reach. From below Mary helped Jim climb onto the shute, boosting him up to them by a foot, bringing him high enough for Darci and Claire to each grab a hand and pull. 

Something inside her twisted when she spotted Jim’s face. Expression pinched, skin pale and clammy, practically sweating in pain, and maybe she was imagining it but the dark red spot on his belly seemed even bigger.

Claire bit her lip and fought to keep her breathing under control as they pulled him out onto the grass. Jim would be fine, he was still alive and moving, they were almost home free, they were going to get out of here and get Jim to a hospital.

He was going to be fine, they all were.

Jim collapsed onto the ground, she moved to help him up, but he held up a hand.

“I’m….fine….” he pushed the word out past gritted teeth “Get…Mary…out”

She crawled back over to rejoin Darci at the door, reaching a hand down to where Mary was already shimmying up the slide to pull her up through the door.

Now that they were out they needed to get into the woods ASAP, the closest way would be back the way they came, but Claire really didn’t want to be funneled between the barn and the hay maze again. They could go through the empty booths set up behind the house, but with all those little buildings their could easily be another amb–

Something ripped Mary out of her hands.

Mary caught herself on the edge of the edge of the door by her fingertips, face a picture of shock.

Glimpsing past her down into the cellar Claire’s breath caught in her throat.

Down in the basement two figures had grabbed Mary by the ankles. 

Both of them wearing clown masks.

Turning and peeking behind her, the whites of Mary’s eyes bulged.

“Pull me up!” 

Claire and Darci surged forward, grabbing Mary’s forearms and yanking with all their might.

The pull on the other end was unyielding but they didn’t give up, they didn’t dare.

Mary gritted her teeth, her whole body pulled taut “Don’t stop,” she forced out “Keep going,”

She couldn’t let Mary go, not when she was so close, not when they were so close. They’d lost so many, half of them were dead. They couldn’t lose anyone else.

She wouldn’t let that happen.

Claire dug in her heels, tightened her fingers around the flesh of Mary’s hand and forearm, and pulled.

Finally, finally, there was some give. Slowly but steadily Claire and Darci pulled Mary through the door. Tugging and tugging until her shoulders were out, then her waist. 

Buzzing euphoria shot through Claire

They were going to do it, they were going to pull Mary free and book it towards the woods and then–

Out of nowhere the pull dragging Mary back into the basement suddenly became much stronger, before Claire could react Mary was ripped out of their arms, dragged screaming down back into the cellar.

With the killers.

Claire immediately dropped to her knees, scrambling at the small door. Tearing it open, through the basement gloom she saw Mary crumpled on the ground in front of the chute. Behind her stood the two clown faces, one of them had his arm raised. He was holding something shiny, it was too big to be a knife, so what could it–

The machete.

“Mary!”

He swung the machete down hard, landing in Mary’s shoulder with a sickening squelch of blade meeting flesh and a spray of blood, an agonized howl ripping out of Mary’s throat. 

Then he did it again, over and over, more blood spraying out, spattering the metal shute and the pasty clown masks, Mary thrashing on the ground under the relentless hacks of the machete, her cries of pain getting louder and sharper, stretching out into something so pained and twisted that it barely sounded human.

She had to do something, help her, save her, she couldn’t just leave Mary to die–

Something ripped her away from the barn, the sight vanishing but wails of pain and sounds of blade meeting meat persisting. Claire yanked one arm free, spinning around to shove away the force pulling on her other shoulder.

Only to stop dead when she saw it was Jim tugging on her. Face waxy but expression resolute. From off to the side Darci recovered from the harsh shove “C’mon Claire we’ve gotta go,”

“We need to go back for Mary!”

“Claire we…we…” Darci choked up “We can’t help her…”

“So what, we just leave her behind!?” 

“We can’t help Mary without getting ourselves killed…” Darci moved to grab Claire’s shoulder again but Claire shook her off, something breaking in Darci’s expression as she did “Claire we’ve got to go, we’ve got to–”

A blur of motion cut past them, a low grunt escaping Jim. Claire and Darci snapped around, Jim was staggering, the shaft of an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. Fresh panic spiking through her, Claire whirled her gaze upwards. There was another clown face standing on the roof of the farmhouse, staring down at them through the sights of a crossbow.

“Run!” Darci screamed. 

They each grabbed one of Jim’s arms and ran.

They booked it around the side of the house. This wasn’t the fastest way to the woods, in fact there was a large stretch of empty field between the woods and them this way. But an open area meant less opportunities for ambush, and they’d be able to see anyone com–

As they cleared the farmhouse and sprinted towards the clearing, Claire glanced to their side–

The pumpkin canon, which earlier had been pointed down towards the open field, was now aimed directly at them, with a clown standing by it.

Claire staggered to a stop, pulling Darci and Jim to a halt with her.

The tell-tale hiss of compressed air crept across the clearing.

Darci stumbled “Claire wha–”

“Back the other way,”

“What ar–”

“Back the other way!”

Darci’s gaze landed on the pumpkin canon, confusion smoothing out into terrified realization. 

They scrambled back the way they came, pulling a staggering Jim after them. There was a loud whoosh and a rush of air, a large pumpkin shooting past where they’d been standing just seconds ago to splatter against the side of one of the booths.

Claire and Darci rushed back past the haunted house. Couldn’t go through the field, couldn’t go past the booths, their only shot was the gap between the barn and the maze that cut straight up against the woods.

The three of them charged, Claire’s heart threatening to beat out of her chest. The narrow passage to the trees seeming miles away.

Almost there, they were almost there, the woods and the meager protection they offered were right in front of them. They were so close, they just had to make it past the barn and then the–

There was a deafening crash and Claire was knocked to the ground.

Head spinning, Claire pushed herself upright, struggling to regain her bearings. Blinking her vision back into clarity, Claire found herself staring at a large chunk of concrete sitting on the ground in front of her. Jim was off to the side, groaning and pushing smaller chunks of concrete off himself. Darci was–

Her mouth went dry.

Darci wheezed, trying and failing to squirm. While Claire and Jim had just gotten glancing blows from the debris, from the chest down Darci was pinned underneath a gigantic pile of concrete and rebar. 

She looked up, eyes bleary and unfocused, but still softening when they landed on her “Claire….”

Hearing Darci sound so frail shot Claire into action. She scrambled over on her hands and knees, tearing chunks of concrete off of Darci as fast as she could “It’s going to be ok Darc, I’m gonna get you out of here,”

Darci’s only response was a strangled moan.

Blood was rushing in her ears, Claire’s hands were shaking. The concrete was so heavy, some pieces she could barely lift, and there were so many on top of Darci, crushing her, killing her. Claire needed to get her free and get them out of–

In a tremendous crash more concrete rained down on top of them, Claire jerking her arms up to shield her face and Darci letting out a shrill cry as more piled on top of her.

As soon as the hail of concrete ceased Claire’s gaze shot up. Another clown face was standing on the roof of the barn next to them, staring down at them through their mask, holding an empty wheelbarrow.

Claire forced herself to rip her gaze away from the clown, going back to frantically tearing at the pile of concrete on Darci. Her hands were worn raw, blood oozing from her palms, but she didn’t slow down, she didn’t dare.

Darci whimpered, twitching under the concrete.

“I’ve got you Darci, I’ve got–”

Another deafening rain of stone and concrete, sharps chunks bruising and cutting Claire’s face and arms as they descented. And when it finally ended only one of Darci’s hands was visible.

Claire’s galloping heart gave a painful clench. There was no way she could dig her out of this in time, she’d given it her all and barely made a dent, and that clown kept throwing more and more–

Desperate, Claire grabbed the hand sticking out of the concrete and pulled, Darci’s finger’s feebly gripping her own “Come on Darci, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I–”

Glancing off to the side, her blood went cold, frozen with Darci’s hand in her grip, two clown faces steadily approaching them.

Nerves screaming, Claire’s pulling intensified, even while Darci’s grip weakened “I’ve got you I’ve got you I’ve go–”

Another relentless hail of concrete and stone, but this time Claire didn’t let go of Darci’s hand, even all jagged chunks of concrete ripped at her face and arms.

She glared up at the clown on the roof through her tears.

"Leave us alone!"

Darci’s hand barely had any strength left in it, but Claire didn't stop pulling. 

Can't leave her behind, have to get her out of here, have to get all of them out of he–

Jim groaned from behind her, off to the side the clowns were getting closer, butcher knife and bloody machete held at the ready.

And no matter how much she pulled Darci wasn’t budging.

Her hand a limp, heavy thing in Claire’s grip. 

Claire let out a howling sob, dropped Darci’s hand, heart ripping in two, pulled Jim up by the shoulder, and ran.

She sprinted with all her might towards the woods, Jim stumbling beside her with one arm slung over her shoulder, not daring to look behind her. Even when they reached the treeline she didn’t slow down. Stumbling over roots and brambles charging deep into the dark forest with all her might.

---

From atop the roof of the old farmhouse, the lone figure kept their gaze trained and crossbow aimed at the two smaller figures in the distance as they ran towards the forest, barely visible in the dying sunlight. 

The figure held steady, even as the two on the ground vanished into the trees. For a second they continued holding the crossbow up, then slowly lowered it. Unloading and un-notching it. Crossbow lowered, they pulled a small object from their hip and raised it to their face.

"I just spotted the last two heading into the forest by the barn," 

The device crackled in their grip, the static clearing into another voice. 

"Leave them, the last thing we want is to be playing hide and seek in the woods, and the six we already got will be more than enough,"

They reholstered the radio, not bothering to reply, and headed towards the edge of the roof, climbing down the same ladder they’d used to get up.

On the ground near the bottom of the house others in similar garb waited for them.

The figure from the roof looked over them for a moment, all of them standing there silently, then reached up and pulled off her mask.

---

Claire didn’t know how long they’d been running, the woods were pitch black, she had no idea where they were going, they'd nearly tripped countless times in their breakneck sprint over rocks and tree roots. 

But she didn’t dare slow down, for all she knew the clowns could be right behind them. Claire could see it so clearly in her mind, the clowns chasing after them, right on their heels with blades in hand, ready to carve her and Jim apart in an instant. 

So she kept on running, even as her legs and lungs ached, heart threatening to burst, keeping a steely grip on Jim’s arm slung over the back of her neck.

By now she was practically dragging him.

The whole time they’d been running Jim had been getting slower and slower, putting more and more weight on her. Claire struggling to keep up her speed while practically carrying him. 

And while the front of her mind was ablaze with panic, deep down dark worry of what that meant for Jim swirled. 

Claire gritted her teeth, hauled Jim up higher against her shoulder, and pressed on. Emptying her mind of all thoughts except putting one foot in front of the other. 

She had to keep going, no matter how far away it was their only hope was forward, behind them was certain death. Had to press on, couldn’t slow down, their lives depended on it. 

Just keep runni–

Her foot caught against a rock, gravity took control before she could right herself and their momentum turned against them. 

Claire and Jim hurtled towards the ground, dirt and bark tearing into her arms and legs as she tried to break her fall, and landed hard. The air knocked from her already burning lungs and sudden brightness popping into her vision.

Shocked at how bright it was, Claire scrambled upright, ignoring the stinging in her palms and knees, and glanced around. They had stumbled into a clear space in the woods, the moon wasn’t full full but it was pretty big, and now that it wasn’t blocked by the trees it gave her just enough light to see by.

Shaking off the surprise, Claire frantically crawled over to where Jim lay sprawled out on the forest floor. Fortunately he’d fallen on his front, so the bolt hadn’t been forced in deeper. Her fingers twitched, tempted to yank it out, but she knew that would only make the bleeding worse. She grabbed one of his arms and pulled him onto his side.

“C’mon Jim we gotta keep going we gotta–”

Jim spasmed, head jerking to the side, a horrible hacking sound escaping him, blood coming out with it.

Knives twisted in her gut “Jim we have to keep going, we have to get you to the hospital, we–”

“Can’t–” he coughed, more blood flecking on his lips “C– Can’t…”

“Jim you have to, we–”

Claire happened to look down, the chill already racing beneath her skin getting even colder. The front of his shirt was completely soaked with blood, ink black under the moonlight.

She gritted her teeth, if Jim couldn’t walk she would carry him herself. Claire put her feet underneath her and pushed herself upright, only to get knocked back to the ground by a wave of exhaustion. She tried to get up again but her muscles were jello.

Stopping had been a mistake, now the adrenaline that had been keeping her going was gone and she could barely move.

Jim needed a hospital, but neither of them could stand right now, let alone run. She needed to try to slow the bleeding down herself.

Shaking, Claire sank back onto her knees and pulled Jim into her lap, taking care to avoid the bolt. And even while the idea of what she was about to do made her nauseous, Claire put her hand over where the blood was thickest on Jim’s stomach and pressed down. Bile rose in her throat, gagging as warm sticky blood oozed between her fingers and a pained hiss escaped Jim’s teeth “It’s ok, I’ve got you I’ve got you…”

Claire kept pressing down, even as more blood welled up around her hand, stomach pinching dangerously, forcing back the urge to vomit. She didn’t dare let up on the pressure, but if she kept looking she was going to puke.

Tearing her gaze away, Claire forced herself to focus on the far side of the clearing to try and clear her–

An unexpected pop of color stood out against the forest floor. It took a few seconds for her to realize what it was.

A rusty beer can.  

She swept her gaze around the clearing, taking scope of their surroundings. A clearing in the forest surrounded by stones, littered with decades old debris, and a small fire pit full of empty beer cans in the middle. They’d been here, all of them, just a few hours ago. The rock she’d tripped on had been the same one Darci had sat on.

Jim coughed again, Claire’s focus snapping back to him, a low mumble escaping him.

“Don’t try to talk, just hang in there and I–”

“I…I made you slow,” he wheezed “If I hadn’t…then Darci…and Mary…and Steve wouldn’t have had to…” he was cut off by another spasm, shaking him from deep within.

“Don’t talk like that!” Claire snapped, harsher than she intended “It’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong, you couldn’t have…”

Jim’s bloody lips twisted in a grimace, he opened his mouth again, only to have it come out as a wheeze that turned into another bloody cough.

Claire’s heart twisted in on itself, squeezing his shoulder as tight as she could, pressing on his stomach as hard as she dared. Her eyes never leaving his.

“It’s gonna be ok Jim, I’ve got you,”

Jim’s shoulders slumped back into her grip, blood pouring out from between his lips, looking up at her with a pained gaze.

“It’s going to be fine, we’re going to get you the the hospital and–”

Jim shuddered again, a low rasp of air escaping him, the back of his head slumping into her arm as his entire body went limp.

The pain in his eyes fading away into an awful emptiness.

“....Ji….Jim?”

He didn’t move, a heaviness to his body that hadn’t been there seconds ago. Face slack, trickle of blood running out of his open mouth, blue eyes staring sightlessly into her own.

She jerked her bloody hand away from his stomach, the world around her spinning to a stop.

Jim was gone, she was holding him right here in her arms, staring into his eyes, but he was gone.

A deep hollowness settled into her gut, even as her ribs constricted around her chest.

She’d pulled him from that basement, dragged him halfway through the woods, and now he was gone.

No it was just her, all alone, clinging to Jim’s dead body.

Everyone was gone. Jim, Mary and Darci, Steve, Toby, Shannon and Eli.

They were all dead, all but her.

Claire couldn’t move, breath picking up faster and faster, pinned in place by the shock and horror of it all, hysteria rising.

Even though she was covered in their blood it almost didn’t feel real. Things like this were only supposed to happen in movies, not in real life, not to them.

Just a few hours ago, it felt like a lifetime, all of them had been sitting here without a care in the world, laughing and joking together.

Then those sick bastards had killed them all.

Leaving just her standing among all the bodies.

I could be a final girl.

Despite everything the edges of her mouth involuntarily curled upwards, panting breaths twisting into a hysterical laugh.

That’s how stories like this were supposed to end right? With one final sole survivor. 

The last woman standing. 

The final girl.

Left alive to walk triumphantly into the sunrise as the end credits rolled. 

Just as quickly as it had come the manic laughter trailed off into gut wrenching sobs.

What a sick fucking joke.

She didn’t feel anything like a survivor. All her friends were dead slaughtered in front of her eyes. She couldn’t save a single one of them, their lives ripped away in front of her eyes.

Weak.

How could she go on after letting all their lives slip through her fingers? 

Useless. 

And the worst part was deep down she knew their killers would never be punished.

By the time Claire made it out of the woods, called the police, and got cops out to the farm, the killers would be long gone.

Her eyes burned, tears running down her cheeks, as she stared into Jim’s sightless ones, more sobs gushing out of her. They’d only been dating for a month, but he was sweet and caring and she loved the time they’d shared together. Now every future kiss, every future dance, every moment they’d never had was stolen from them.

A keening sound escaped the back of her throat as more tears fell.

Mary and Darci, her two best friends, they’d known each other for over a decade. Made plans for senior year and college and adulthood together. Now all that was gone, their lives ripped out of her hands.

More sobs came, rocking her whole body with their force.

And Steve, for almost all the time Claire knew him he’d been a jerk, but he’d been trying so hard to be better, and now he never would.

She’d only known Toby through being Jim’s best friend, but she liked him, he was sweet and funny, and he’d charged at the killer without a second thought. And now he was gone.

Eli hadn’t deserved what had happened to him, dying alone and abandoned.

Even Shannon, someone she barely knew, and now never would.

Claire was barely aware of  Jim’s weight in her arms, an ocean of grief surging through her. Countless emotions crashing into her at once, pinning her in place on the ground while her body quaked with the force of the sobs shaking it.

People she loved, people she knew, people she wanted to know. All gone.

You failed them.

And every time she shut her eyes she saw them dying all over again.

The storm inside her surging to a peak, Claire pulled Jim as tight to her chest as she could, threw back her head, and screamed.

Screamed with grief for what she’d lost, screamed with anguish for what she would never have, and screamed with helpless rage at the killers who would never be punished. 

Claire screamed and screamed until there was no air left inside her, trailing off into a hoarse croak, no emotions left to empty out into the empty forest, absolute silence filling the clearing. 

Sitting there on her knees, panting and trembling, Jim still sprawled across her lap, body too weak to move but still burning with–

A concussive wave blasted through the clearing. 

Wobbling, Claire braced herself on the ground with one hand, the other protectively clutching Jim’s shoulder. Grief eclipsed by fresh panic.

What was that?

The sensation had reminded her of the boom of especially loud bass at concerts, but even that wasn’t quite right, and that sensation had always been more like a push, this had been a pull tugging her towards–

Claire glanced towards the center of the clearing only to stop dead. The firepit was gone. The circle of small stones was still there, but the inside was gone, everything inside the ring of stone a solid void of pitch black. She kept looking and looking and waiting for her eyes to adjust and give her a peek at one of the beer cans inside it, but it remained a bottomless black.

A chill swept over her that had nothing to do with the autumn night or the horrors she had just endured. Hadn’t it been normal when she’d stumbled into this clearing a few minutes ago? She hadn’t been paying a lot of attention to her surroundings, but a pitch black pit like surely would have grabbed her attention so when–

The stones bled.

Claire jerked backwards reflexively, dragging Jim with her, the oily redness around the pit rapidly spreading outwards. Grass and plants withered as the redness touched them, shriveling into burned looking husks. Rusty looking flakes peeling off of them falling–

Claire’s mouth went dry.

Up, they were falling up. Filling the air like flakes of bloody snow ascending to the sky.

For a moment she was so stunned she forgot to be afraid, it was only when the redness was about to touch them did she remember her fear.

She fumbled backwards, trying to get Jim and herself clear, but the redness swept under them, leaving them untouched, continuing its progress along the clearing, only halting when it reached the larger stones at the edge.

Claire just stayed there kneeling in the dirt, swiveling around at the inexplicable scene unfolding around her. So caught up in the sight of the rusty stuff rising from the ground she nearly missed the little flicker of motion.

She stopped and stared, surely she’d just imagi– 

Something moved inside the bottomless blackness of the pit.

Claire froze, breath caught inside her chest. More shadows shifting inside the dark pit, before something emerged. 

It was long and narrow, the top tapered to a sharp point, several more just like it following shortly after all connected to a–

An icy chill crept up her spine.

Those were fingers, that was a hand.

The hand slowly reached over the circle of stones and pressed against the ground, joints cracking as it did. The wrist bent at a sharp angle, releasing more cracking sounds as it did, the hand pushing against the ground to raise a long long arm connected to it out of the pit. Then a second hand emerged with another long arm behind it.

Claire could only watch, heart pounding in her throat, as whatever was in the pit pulled itself free.

A round head emerged first, facing away from her, followed by a spindly neck connected to broad, angular shoulders tapering to a narrow, almost emaciated chest. The…the thing sank low to the ground, crawling the rest of the way out of the pit. Its waist impossibly thin, almost wasp-like over sharp, jutting hip bones, legs just as long and gangly as its arms trailing along after it. 

For a moment it stayed there crouched on its hands and feet on the ground, then it snapped its head straight back, in a move that should have broken its neck, piercing Claire with its gaze.

A sharp gasp of breath escaped her, pinned in place under the thing’s stare. Its head was smooth and featureless; no mouth or nose, not even ears, just eyes. The thing's eyes were solid silver, the only part of its body that wasn’t dark, no pupil or sclera to speak of, staring back at her like twin, gleaming coins. 

Without moving its head, the creature slowly stood and rose to its full height, body snapping and contorting to face her without its eyes ever once leaving her. It was tall, head nearly even with the tree trops, long fingered hands hanging down to its knees. There was something vaguely skeletal about it, the suggestion of hip and shoulder bones in the sharp angles of its waist and shoulders, rib-like ridges lining its chest. Under the moonlight the thing had looked black at first, but now she could see it was actually a dark, almost wet looking red, giving the overall appearance of something that had been skinned. Shining silver gaze still locked onto Claire. 

Her instincts were screaming at her to run, but exhaustion pressing down on her too heavily.

They stared at each other in silence, red ash falling up all around them. 

“Who are you who has summoned me?” 

A voice boomed out, not overly loud, but unfathomably deep, echoing across the clearing.

Claire jerked back out of reflex, was that the–

“You who have called me to this plane,” the thing took a step towards her, speaking somehow despite having no mouth “What would you have of me?”

Her jaw gaped open and shut, struggling to get words out of her petrified throat "Wh– who are you?"

The creature didn't so much as twitch “I have been known by many names across the eons, but the ones who first pulled me through these stones knew me as the crooked one, the god of the bloody mound, Crom Cruach,”

“Cr– Crom Cruach…” 

For the first time the thing’s gaze left her own, going down to Jim in her arms.

“So that is what called to me, your loss,”

Claire scrabbled backwards against the ground, sneakers kicking up dirt, sending more red flakes up in a flurry, dragging Jim away from it “Do– don’t you touch him!” 

She tried to make her voice sound angry, but what came out was a desperate whine.

It– he? Crom, lifted his gaze back up towards her “Tell me child,” he took another step towards her, Claire scooting further back “What would you do, to have your lover returned to you?”

Claire’s jaw dropped open, blinking in surprise.

Did he….did he mean….

Crom slowly raised a long, dagger sharp finger, pointing it down at Jim in her arms

“Ask it of me, and you may hold him, whole and sound, in your arms again this night,”

Her teeth ground together so hard they hurt, fresh burning surging behind her eyes. 

A big scary monster rising out of the ground and offering to bring her dead boyfriend back to life?

Yeah, fuck that.

“No thanks,” she growled.

Crom crooked his head to the side with a painful sounding crack “You speak of denial, but even now I can taste your sorrow, why try to deceive me and yourself when I can grant your deepest wish?” 

All the emotion from the past several hours; rage, grief, fear, exhaustion, surged, boiled over, overriding ever ounce of self preservation in her body “You think I’m stupid!?” she snapped “You say you’ll bring him back, but you're probably just full of it! And even if you could bring Jim back it’d just be as a– a– a zombie or something!”

He cocked his head even further, so far that it almost looked like its neck was broken “Zom…bie?”

Claire pulled a lip up in a growl “A walking corpse! A sick, rotting fake! You say you can bring him back, but I don’t believe you!”

She sat there panting, heart pounding, Crom staring at her with his liquid metal gaze. For a moment Claire was sure he would rip her head off with a single swipe of his hands, then he stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a single breath.

“Lies are a human art,” he bent down towards her in a series of jerking motions “The wolf does not deceive as it slaughters the lamb, nor does the flame as it consumes the forest, so child…” 

His face was only inches away from her now “Look into my eyes, and tell me if you think I am speaking false,”

Alarm bells were screaming in Claire’s head, clutching Jim protectively to her chest–

But there’s nothing to protect, he’s just a corpse now, you’re clinging to a dead lump of meat.

Despite every instinct in her body wailing at her to get away– she couldn’t contain her burning curiosity…and the faint flicker of hope.

Claire squeezed her eyes shut, raised her head until she knew she was facing Crom dead on, and then opened them.

Twin pits of liquid silver started back at her, glowing with unearthly light. As she stared, she found that she was able to pick little flecks out of what she had thought had been solid.

Glimmers, flickers, sparks.

Hundreds of thousands of white hot metal sparks swam in his eyes, burning in an infinite, silver inferno, the head of them heat searing into her eyes.

Brighter, hotter, than anything she’d seen before.

Than anything that had a right to exist.

Claire wanted to look away but found herself mesmerized, even as the horror grew.

These weren’t eyes, they were gates, pits leading down into that merciless white hell, burning and burning.

This fire wasn’t something that deceived, squeezed itself into a different shape and pretended to be something it wasn’t. It would only tear and burn and consume everything that it touched.

Claire finally forced herself to rip her gaze away, staring at the ground, panting with fear, blood rushing in her ears, hearing the creaks as Crom stood back up straight.

She didn’t know what this thing in front of her– Crom, was, but he wasn’t lying, that much she was sure of, but still…

“It can’t be that easy…” she whispered, still looking down at the rusty, peeling ground, Jim clutched protectively against her chest “If bringing people back to life was easy everyone would do it…”

Crom snapped his head up straight “There is truth in what you say. Death takes a tithe that even I cannot deny. Your love’s human life has ended, but I can summon his soul from the otherworld into a new life,”

Claire peeked up at him “You…make it sound like he wouldn’t be human,”

“He would not,”

Her gaze lowering until her eyes met Jim’s sightless ones, heart pounding “If he wouldn’t be human…what would he be?”

“A beast of old, a being of magic reflected from his own essence. But though his flesh will no longer be human, his soul will be untarnished, his memories intact, and his mind his own,” 

Despite herself Claire felt her breathing start to pick up, it sounded too good to be true. But it had to be, whatever he was Crom wouldn’t– couldn’t lie, and Jim wouldn’t be human but he would still be Jim, and tha–

“Then, there is the matter of my payment,”

The glimmer of hope flickered.

There it was, the horrible catch, he’d bring back Jim, but only if Claire paid some kind of terrible price. She knew this was coming, Crom might not be a liar but she knew he was dangerous. If she was smart she’d tell him to go back to whatever hell he crawled out of, but….

She looked down at Jim again, his eyes, once so full of warmth and kindness, now cold and empty, his entire front slick with rapidly cooling blood, the sight twisting a knife in her heart–

Darci and Mary’s fingers wrapped tight around her own, the sickening crack as Steve's spine hit the iron grate, Toby’s blood splattering on her face, water dripping from Eli’s clammy fingertips, Shannon’s crumpled body lying there behind the hay–

She’d failed them, she’d let them all die. But now she had a chance to save them, all of them, and she wouldn’t let that slip through her fingers.

No matter how much it cost her.

“I’ll do it,” her voice was diamond hard “But I want to bring all of my friends back, not just Jim, all seven of them,”

If Crom was pleased or displeased by this he gave no sign “The payment for seven souls will be greater than for one,”

“I don’t care!” Claire snapped “I want them back, All of them!”

Crom stared at her for a moment, studying her with his molten silver gaze, before raising a hand, large enough to wrap around a tree trunk, and holding it out towards her “Very well, now my price,”

Claire swallowed hard but nodded her head.

“You shall serve as my priestess, blessed with unrivaled power and the collective knowledge of all my past shamans, and–”

“No.”

Crom stopped, his stare burning into her.

Claire swallowed but held her ground “I don’t want power, I don’t want revenge, I just want my friends back,”

A shudder rippled across Crom’s body, claw-like fingers curling together over his palm.

Claire shrunk back.

For the first time since she’d seen him, Crom was…displeased.

“There are forces and tithes in these worlds that even I cannot deny,” his voice was no louder than it was before, but now had a jagged edge to it “In order to work my miracles on this plane I need an anchor for my power,”

He raised his other hand, a single sharp finger pointing down at her “A priestess, and I have no use for a weak emissary, the power and knowledge I would give you is not something to be bargained for, but tied to your priestesshood. What you do with that power is entirely your own choice,”

Claire felt herself start to shake but nodded her head “Ok, I– I’ll be your priestess, but you said you needed a priestess just to bring them back, what else do you need?”

Crom’s head twisted to the side with a sharp snap “There is a balance to the worlds that cannot be disrupted, in order to summon seven souls from the otherworld I need seven more to cast down. To give your life new power I need a life to consign to the flame. For the seven souls returned and your own flesh reborn I require eight souls before the sun rises, eight for eight,”

“So…to bring my friends back…you need me to be your priestess to give you an anchor, and you need…you need to…take…eight people, before sunrise, to keep the balance?” 

“Correct, on this night while the veil is thin, all souls may exist on this plane, but if you do not bring me the eight before the sun rises, your power will fade and the souls of your companions will be pulled back to the otherworld.”

“If…if that’s just what you need, then….” Claire’s voice dropped to a low whisper “Then what’s the payment?”

---

Crom kept his hand outstretched towards her “Do we have a bargain?”

Claire bit her lip. This was it, she was so close to bringing them back, all of them, and yet…

“What happens to people whose lives you claim? Do their souls go to…to hell or…”

Crom crooked his head again, by now Claire knew that was the way he showed surprise or curiosity, but for her sake, not his own.

“Just as this world has mountains and deserts, so to does the otherworld have many peaks and valleys. The souls of those who depart this world dwell there, as do I. I can call souls forth or cast them down but I cannot control where they fall,”

Claire’s teeth dug so hard into her skin she tasted blood. That was…still unclear, but it was probably the best she was going to get from him, and it didn’t sound like souls he claimed were instantly condemned to hell. That was good right?

But still, what he wanted in return…

“So child,” Crom again offered her his upturned hand “Do you accept the terms of our compact?”

Claire didn’t answer him, again looking down at Jim’s bloody, dead-eyed body in her arms. Even though the thought of what she was about to do, what she was agreeing to, sickened her, Claire didn’t let herself stop. She reached behind him, grabbed that shaft of the bolt, and yanked it out of his shoulder with a sickening squelch, throwing it to the other side of the clearing. Now free of the protrusion, she gently lowered him to lie flat on the ground, and then forced her own feet underneath her.

This was going to be bad, just the bare minimum of what he needed was almost too much. And then the actual price…

Claire swallowed back her nerves, forcing her trembling arms and legs to steady.

But all the people she failed, her friends, they would be back, all of them. And maybe they wouldn’t be human, but they’d be themselves and they’d be alive. And Claire would be the only one to pay the price, not them. 

She raised her chin, meeting Crom’s gaze without flinching “I do,”

Crom stepped even closer, Claire forcing herself to hold her ground as he approached.

Only a foot away from her now, Crom held out his upturned palm, which as she watched, welled up with oily red fluid. It reminded her a little of blood, but blood wasn’t this dark, or this thick.

“Then accept it,”

Even though every instinct in her body was screaming at her to get away Claire lifted her own hand.

She was going to get them back, all of them. She would save them the way she couldn’t before.

She eyed the dark fluid in his hand, belly churning with dread. Crom remained still the entire time, liquid metal gaze watching her every move.

Then before she could stop herself, Claire plunged her hand into the middle of his. It sank up the wrist, the fluid surrounding it thick and tacky, almost like tar. Even as more dread flooded into her Claire shoved her hand deeper and de–

The fluid clamped around her hand, thousands of needles stabbing into every inch of skin it touched. Lightning shooting up her arm until it hit her spine, crackling through her entire body, every cell wailing in agony. She tried to jerk her hand away but the nerves wouldn’t respond, her entire body spasming as electricity raced through her, hand crushed inside a thousand teeth.

Then, through the agony spotting her vision, Claire saw Crom raising his other hand, lifting a single finger to tap her in the center of her forehead.

Bright light exploded in her vision, head threatening to crack in two even as every inch of her body blazed with pain.

The ground rushed up to meet her, Claire barely noticed hitting the dirt, getting a flash of black veins shooting up her arm as she fell. She lay there helpless, spasming on the ground. Wave after wave of agonizing energy coursing through her, tearing into every inch of her body. From the skin on her fingertips down to her toes all the way into the marrow of her bones, not one part of her escaped, every speck of her flesh searing with pain. 

Her teeth clacked together as she continued to convulse. Lightning crackling through her skull, the white hot stars flashing behind her eyes morphing into images.

A wild storm over an ocean of raging garnet colored waves.

People standing in a circle inside this same stone ring, raising blank, wooden masks to their faces.

Squalling babies thrown into a dark pit.

Countless gaping mouths full of gnashing teeth.

Claire was barely aware of the foam spilling out the corners of her mouth, writhing on the ground as unrelenting waves of pain crashed over again and again. In between the flashes of visions she could see Crom still see Crom’s shining silver eyes watching her.

Men with cords wrapped around their necks and blades stuck in their chests shoved into swamps.

Blood pouring from a slit throat.

Shriveled grains turning green and plump.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, that her body would rip apart under the strain, there was a shift.

The caustic energy shooting through her didn’t abate, but it started to settle. The pain simultaneously getting worse and better as the flesh that had rebelled so violently to the energy’s presence slowly started to let it in.

A man with a white beard down to his feet, raising his hands to the sky as rain fell around him.

People dressed in furs dancing around a massive bonfire, heads thrown back in joyful laughter, lips smeared with milk and honey.

The pain started to drain away as her body hummed with energy, a storm captured beneath her skin..

A woman painted in red from head to toe, only the whites of her eyes visible. Monsters of all shape and size, teeth and claws and fangs, all ran, but not towards her, from her. Fear flashing in their yellow eyes.

The last of the pain faded away, sensation slowly creeping back into Claire’s limbs, feeling the power that thrummed through them.

The storm wasn’t trapped inside her it was her. It swam in her blood, crackled in her nerves, sang in her bones. Buzzing along the contours of her flesh. 

That’s what she was now, a storm in the shape of a girl.

Claire rose to her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm, the crippling agony from moments ago a faded memory. She squared her shoulders and looked Crom dead in the eye. He hadn't moved the entire time, hand still outstretched, palm welling with fluid, watching her expectantly. Without breaking eye contact she flicked her wrist, the storm inside her surging.

Flames burst to life around the edge of the clearing. Circling them in a ring of fire.

Crom let out a satisfied hiss, the flames illuminating the blizzard of red around them, his meat-like skin glistening in the light.

The fluid in his hand bubbled and seethed, threatening to spill over the edge of his palm.

“Our compact is made,” Crom turned and took two steps towards Jim.

Claire watched as he raised his hand over Jim and tilted it, letting some of the deep red fluid dribble on to his face.

“Now let the fallen return,”

She kept her eyes locked on Jim, on the fluid that had landed on his cheek. For a second it sat there stagnant, before sinking into his skin, draining away like water into parched earth until it vanished entirely.

Claire didn’t move, her eyes still locked onto Jim’s blue ones as they stared blankly towards her.

Then Jim blinked.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Milkshakes

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Overwhelmed when Loki saves you, you respond to his kindness with fear. Determined to apologize, you seek Loki out to thank him with a couple of milkshakes and some fries. Warnings: a tad angsty but much fluff A/N: This is actually one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written. Hope you all enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart​ @marvelouslovely​

Disclaimer: Picture not mine

Of course it had to be during your lunch break that a supervillain attacked the city. Of course today you decided to go out to eat instead of packing something. And, of course you had to be walking by the building right as it crumbled. You started praying to any god that there may be to save you from being crushed. Though, you hadn’t actually expected one to save you.

In the moments before you would have been flattened, Loki put an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. Raising his free hand, a glimmering green force field appeared around you. The falling matter bounced off of it and landed around you, the shield offering strong protection. Of course you were thankful to be rescued, but did have to be Loki? You knew he was supposedly reformed, but so many news outlets still ran stories about how he was dangerous. A ticking time bomb. You’d never quite formed an opinion on him, and it was causing great conflict in you now. On the one hand, he looked very intimidating from this close, what with his impressive stature and horned helmet and all. But on the other, he was saving you from the actual super villain destroying the city. Perhaps if there wasn’t so much going on, you could think more clearly. Alas, your thoughts were a messy, confused jumble, leaving you fearful of the super-powered god in front of you.

“Are you alright?” he asked in his deep, smooth accent as the shield shimmered away into nothing. The god brought his arm to shield your eyes from the small pieces of debris still falling, the other one still around your waist in a protective manner. “Are you injured at all?

“I, um, uh, I- I,” you stammered, backing up. “Mhm. All good. Uhhh, thanks.”

You were certain you must be the most awkward person in history, but instead of making fun of you, Loki just looked sad. Even with the hurt behind his eyes, his arms shot out to catch you when you stumbled over the wreckage. He guided you away from the obstacles to a place where you could walk unhindered. He moved back from you as soon as he’d finished escorting you.

“You are welcome,” he finally responded. “I am sorry for frightening you. You should get somewhere safe.”

Without waiting for a reply, he left to rejoin the battle. You started retreating from the scene, steering as clear of any large structures as you could, cursing yourself the whole time. Loki had saved you, and you’d been afraid of him. What kind of nonsense was that? And you were certain he got that kind of reaction all the time, based on the way he’d looked at you and realized your bumbling actions were a result of fear. Fear of him after he’d so carefully and gently saved you.

You felt stupid and petty as you joined a throng of people being guided away from the scene. After nearly two years of working to protect the city, Loki should have gotten more praise and love than he did. You realized it now, only moments too late. Someone should tell him he was appreciated, a hero. And if no one else was going to do it, you resolved to do it yourself.

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

The meeting was dreadfully boring, but someone had to go. Seeing as all the other Avengers were busy, that someone was Loki. Besides, Stark had told him it would be good for his image to head up the restoration of the city this time round. The committee and resources were all a part of Stark Industries, of course, so Loki felt there should be some employee to take care of it instead of him. But whatever, he’d been roped into it now, and he figured that there was some merit to what Tony has said about his reputation.

Luckily, with a week having passed since the battle, great headway had been made with the repairs, and the meeting was much shorter than expected. Itching to get outside, Loki headed to the main doors.

“You don’t understand,” Loki heard someone say to the receptionist as he approached the front desk. “He saved me the other day. I have to thank him. Please?”

Loki just rolled his eyes as he pushed through the turnstile. He couldn’t even begin to count how many fans had tried this tactic to meet their favorite Avengers. Granted, no one had ever tried to see him, but he was coming to terms with it. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder which of his colleagues you were trying to get through to see. Perhaps Steve, or maybe even Thor. Loki was so lost in thought it barely even registered when the voice switched from pleading with the receptionist to calling after him.  

He turned and stopped, recognizing the person jogging after him as you, who he remembered from the battle. “May I help you?” he asked in the most pleasant tone he could manage.

“Yeah. Uh, hi. I don’t know if you remember, but you saved me the other day,” you explained sheepishly. “You know, during the attack.”

“Yes, I recall.”

“Oh! Good. I just wanted to say thank you for that. For saving me, I mean. And the city.”

“I see,” the god replied, suspiciously raising an eyebrow. “Well then, you are welcome. Really, I was just doing my job, though.”

“Well, I still appreciate it.” There was a lapse in the conversation, as neither of you were really sure what to say next. “Can we go somewhere? Like for coffee or something. Can I buy you a coffee?”

Oddly enough, that made Loki distrust the situation even more. Ok, maybe you were actually a super nice person who had a guilty conscience for making him feel bad, and maybe that prompted you to come thank him properly. But that you wanted to buy him something, presumably to show your newfound appreciation? Absolutely preposterous. The only people who ever did something remotely as kind as that were his fellow Avengers, and not even all of them or particularly often. Any of the other people who openly supported him didn’t show appreciation, per se. It was more that they felt he’d done enough to redeem himself at this point, which wasn’t exactly the most thrilling phrasing either. But here you were, awkwardly shuffling your feet and asking to buy him coffee. Loki supposed he shouldn’t pass such an opportunity up. And yet, he probably was going to.

“No thank you,” he finally replied, shaking himself from the shocked, catatonic state he’d fallen into. “I do not much like coffee.”

As he walked away, he thought that would be the end of it. That perhaps you’d only been talking to him in the hopes he’d invite you to see the other Avengers, too. That maybe you’d go back to trying to wheedle your way inside at the front desk. Much to his surprise, you came hurrying after him.

“Wait,” you called. “Ok, so scratch the coffee. How about ice cream or tea or a milkshake or something? Anything really, you name it.”

Now that you were outside, he observed you again while he thought, as if hoping the sunlight would reveal your true intentions. He couldn’t find anything malicious in your expression, just some sort of anxiety. Loki must have taken too long in coming to a decision, because you started rambling.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to pressure you into it or anything, but I wanted to do something nice to say thank you and-” you cut off and bit your lip. “Is this stupid? It sounds stupid. It’s probably stupid. I’ll go now. Again, I’m really sorry to have bothered you.”

“One moment,” he said before you could make your retreat. “You said anything I want, correct?” You eagerly nodded as Loki got an idea. “Alright then. I would like a five course meal at the nicest restaurant in London, please and thank you.”

“I, um. I know I said anything but, uh...” You noticed his serious expression had turned into a sly grin. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. My apologies, but I simply could not resist,” he chuckled.

You began to laugh, too. Not in a way that made him think it was out of courtesy or pity, but an honest to goodness laugh. Briefly, he thought it one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard, before quickly shaking the idea from his mind. It was ridiculous; he hardly even knew you. But you seemed pretty adamant on showing your gratitude. Plus, you’d apologized to him, which was more than he could say for most of the people in his life.

“You know, I would usually say tea, but a milkshake actually sounds quite lovely right now,” he told you once you’d calmed down. “That is, if the offer is still open.”

“Of course it is!” you happily told him, the smile on your face growing. Not to mention you seemed much more at ease. “I actually know a great diner that’s just a short walk from here, if that works for you.”

“By all means, lead the way.”

It took approximately ten minutes to get to the restaurant. After properly introducing yourselves, you kept up a light dialogue. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly; just hesitant, as if both of you were afraid of saying the wrong things and shattering the blissful moment. Loki still couldn’t bring himself to fully trust you. Such a feeling just wasn’t in his nature, especially not when it came to someone he just met and had a considerably rocky start with. Even so, he found himself enjoying your company.

Arriving at the diner, Loki held the door open for you as you walked in. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait for a seat, the classic red stools at the bar free at this time of the afternoon. Loki swiveled the seat back and forth ever so slightly, and found himself chuckling when he caught you doing the same thing. You offered him a shy smile as a waitress handed the both of you a menu.

The God of Mischief had only ever had the pleasure of drinking a milkshake once before, a vanilla one when the team had convinced him to try it on one of their outings. He’d thoroughly enjoyed it and planned on playing it safe by ordering the same thing now. When you asked what he was getting, though, you were having none of that. After nearly five minutes of rousing debate, you’d finally talked him up to chocolate. Part of him was having so much fun with the discussion and how animated you became about the topic that he almost didn’t want to concede. But the waitress came back to take your orders, and he didn’t want to make her leave and come back again.

“Oh, and some French fries too please,” you added after ordering your favorite milkshake.

Loki shot you a perplexed look. “French fries?” he asked after the waitress moved away.

“Yeah. Please tell me you’ve heard of them before.”

“I have. I have even eaten them a few times before, believe it or not,” he answered as you turned to face him, leaning on the counter. “But are you certain they go with a milkshake?”

Your jaw dropped open. “Of course they do. Listen, Loki, you haven’t lived until you’ve dipped French fries in a milkshake. You’ll love it, I promise.”

You continued to help him expand his knowledge of Midgardian cuisine as you waited for your order to come. Once it arrived, you dipped a fry in your shake, just as you had said, trying to convince him just how delicious it truly was. The trickster skeptically picked one up and mimicked your actions, plunging it into the frothy liquid. The second it hit his tongue, his face lit up in pure delight.

“See, I told you,” you laughed.

“Indeed you did,” he said back, the corners of his eyes crinkling from how wide his smile was.

An hour and another order of fries later, the two of you finished your snack. Loki was in a better mood than he’d been all month. Honestly, he was a little sad when the bill came.

“Are you certain you do not want me to pay?” he checked as you fished out a twenty from your wallet to cover the low-cost meal. “Or we could split it, at least.”

“Loki, it’s fine,” you giggled. “This is me thanking you, remember? And, honestly, it’s me apologizing, too. I was just startled the other day and there was a lot going on. I hadn’t ever really thought about what I’d do if I met an Avenger, least of all if it happened while they were saving my life. I was overwhelmed; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about yourself or anything.” Without really thinking about it, your hand moved to rest on top of his. It was a surprise to Loki, but a welcome one. “Because—and I can say this with absolute certainty—you’re amazing, Loki. You do so much for the city. I hope you know how appreciated you are, at least by me.”

His other large hand came to cover yours. “Thank you, darling.” He didn’t mean to say the pet name, but it just slipped out. “I cannot express how much that means to me.”

Somewhere in his heart, he wanted to tell you everything, make you privy to all his inner turmoil. But that was buried underneath years of pain and rejection, too heavy to move for someone he didn’t know all too well, no matter how connected he felt to you in this moment. So he let the urge pass over him, hoping his thanks would be sufficient enough in expressing how he felt.

“You’re welcome, Loki,” you told him, squeezing his hand. Then you stood up. “So, I guess I’ll be letting you get on with your day then. This was really nice, though. Thanks for agreeing to it.”

“You’re welcome and thank you,” he replied. “It really was.”

After waving goodbye to each other, you exited and Loki stayed where he was, picking at the last few nubs of fries left in the basket. He didn’t know exactly why he didn’t leave, too. Just that something was missing.

“Ah, young love,” the elderly waitress who had been serving you all day said to Loki as she came to collect the empty dishes. “Magical, isn’t it?”

“Love?” Loki choked out. “I am afraid you are quite mistaken. It was not even a date. I hardly even know them. I will probably never even see them again.”

“And you’re just gonna let them walk out?” she tsked. “It’s a right shame, sonny. Let me tell you, you don’t just let something like that walk out on ya.”

He looked at the door for a second in melancholic contemplation before bolting out after you. He shouted his thanks to the waitress as he pushed open the glass door, exiting out into the harsh sunlight. As his eyes adjusted, they scanned for your form before it walked out of his life forever. Spotting you, he jogged in your direction and called your name. Funny, he thought, how just earlier that day the roles had been reversed.

“Loki?” you asked, stopped on the sidewalk as he caught up to you. “Are you ok? Did something happen?”

“Actually, the problem is what did not happen.” He kicked a rock with his shoe, as suddenly the ground became very interesting to him. His insides were a nervous mess. Clearing his throat, he gathered his courage to continue. “See, I do not have any way of contacting you again. And it had been my sincere hope that you would want to do this again, let me take you out somewhere.”

“That sounds amazing,” you agreed, jotting down your number on an old receipt you’d found in your wallet. Smirking, you parroted back his words from earlier. “How about you take me for a five course meal in London?”

“Oh, so you have turned my own jokes against me. How very clever of you,” he laughed. “What if we just went to see a movie, instead?”

“Perfect,” you nodded. “Just text me a time and place, and I’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it. As soon as I buy the tickets, I shall let you know.”

“Sounds awesome! It’s a date.”

As you parted ways, for real this time, it registered in Loki’s mind what you’d said. He hadn’t particularly been thinking about his phrasing or in what way he was asking you to hang out. But apparently you’d taken it as an invitation for a date. As Loki arrived back at the Tower and flopped onto his bed, already dreaming of your laugh, he found he was quite happy that you had.